Today I remembered several experiences from the recent period, and my heart is bleeding and screaming with pain. I feel incredibly sad, and my eyes are as if they’re looking through a window onto which rain is falling. I knew that my native family, in which I grew up, was not ideal, but I thought that I had forgiven what had happened and that I had managed to deal with my past. After reading these books, together with the sessions with C's, I see now that my original family are probably all three OPs — where one is a narcissist, one a psychopath, and one perhaps “just” OP.
I feel pain at the memory where, not long ago, I’m standing outside with my mom, talking to an older married couple. My mom is mocking me, making fun of me, and this older lady gently strokes my cheek with love and says something. I don’t remember what it was, but I remember those eyes — eyes that were full of kindness. A kindness I have never seen in my own mother’s eyes. I feel sadness that the father who was supposed to protect me never did. He either pretended everything was fine or even poured oil on the fire. For a long time I thought he was the only one who truly loved me. Sadly, today I see nothing but his cowardice. And my sister? She has been envious of me since childhood – that I did well in school, that I got into good university, that I had a good job... Whenever she had the chance, she would smear me, even if it meant outright lying. She still does it today; I’m simply no longer within reach, so now she does it to other people.
And in the end, after today’s endless flood of memories from childhood and all those moments we spent together, I feel that I love them. That I truly care about them. In the background there’s anger too — that I love them and they probably don’t love me, and they probably have no idea what it even means to truly love someone.
Your post touched me deeply. I feel your sadness, and your story is also my own. The clear, unveiled view of our lives can lead our entire system to complete collapse. To truly recognize ourselves or to understand the dynamics that determine our lives, we need external triggers that break us down and dissolve us.
For me, there is a comparison to Gurdjieff: We crystallize at a certain level that takes us further and further away from our own core. It’s like an onion whose layers keep multiplying, becoming firmer and thicker. We ourselves feel the contradiction, the inconsistencies, and often sense how we act against our own convictions. To become a conscious human being, we need triggers that shatter our system—the layers of the onion dissolve. That is the only way to recognize our inner core.
The path of realization is merciless. There is no veil here, no excuse. The truth lies openly before you, and you feel as though you won’t survive it. This year, I myself experienced twelve months of complete system collapse, which brought me in November to the point where I was ready to end my life because I could no longer bear the pain and fear. Only with the help of close friends was I able to stabilize myself again and keep my head above water.
In clearer moments, I tried to analyze every situation and find reasons to understand it all. Here in the forum, I received many valuable pieces of advice that I implemented. Yet my intuition told me that my situation had not arisen by chance. I had a strong sense that there was something I needed to discover—something existentially important for me, the key to my core, the path to myself.
Images emerged, fragments burned into my memory, and there was only pain left—pain that had left traces deep in my bones. I felt as if my bones were dissolving, my feet losing contact with the ground. I consisted only of a bubble of sadness and fear.
Today I know: This year was given to me as a gift to open my eyes and to experience myself more deeply. I remember a similar collapse about 13 years ago. At that time, I suddenly had access to information that had remained hidden and inaccessible in my normal state of consciousness. It was a profound inner realization—a world reachable only through pain, fear, and deep sadness.
Another important insight concerns emotions. Highly sensitive people often develop an exaggerated emotional intensity toward others, which becomes their norm. The nervous system adapts accordingly. If you live with constantly high stress levels since childhood, the system adopts that as its baseline. In my case, I observed very high resilience to stress.
This year, I consciously decided to distance myself from people who emotionally drained me—takers rather than givers. This included parts of my family of origin. Since it was a conscious decision, my system coped well with it. This emotional distance allowed my system to readjust to a healthy emotional level.
For me, the crucial question was: What meaning do these people have in my life? If they have meaning, I will reestablish contact at this new, healthy emotional level. Every contact was restored, and there were surprising insights. Emotional regulation took place on both sides—wonderful, balanced, and open conversations in which everyone shared their perspective. Today, we are emotionally connected at a healthy level, without expectations, guilt, or fear.
The closer people are to you, the more important it is not to let yourself be guided by exaggerated emotions. Sometimes a temporary separation is needed, sometimes a permanent one. Today I know that I had a deep emotional dependency, even though I thought I was a free person. To all those who triggered negative emotions in me and were unable to clarify their own emotional situation with me, I have forgiven and let them go in love and peace. There are no attachments left.
I’m sorry for writing so much about myself now. The deeper purpose was to recognize the dynamics and perhaps to point out a path that could help clarify your situation