Ciji The Geek: Understanding a Shame-Based Personality

onlinecounsellingcollege:

There is a difference between blaming and shaming a person. Blaming is being told you did something wrong. Shaming is being told that there’s something wrong with you, and you’re worthless, bad, inferior or inadequate. Examples of shaming statements include:

•  “You were a mistake; I wish I’d never had you”
• “You’re useless; you’ll never amount to anything.”
• “You could never do what he/she does”
•   “You’ve ruined my life; you ruin everything for everyone”

Adults shamed in childhood have the following traits:

1. They are afraid to share their true thoughts and feelings with others.
2. They are terrified of intimacy and put up walls in relationships. They also fear commitment as they expect to be rejected.
3. They are often extremely shy, easily embarrassed, and are terrified of being shamed or humiliated. They tend to suffer from debilitating false guilt.
4. They struggle with feelings of worthlessness and believe they are inferior to others. They believe that is something they can never change as worthlessness is at the core of who they are.
5. They often feel ugly and flawed, even when they’re beautiful – and everyone tells them that.
6. They may be narcissistic and act as if they have it all together; alternatively, they may be completely selfless, almost to the point of being a doormat.
7. They are often very defensive and find it hard to bear the slightest criticism. They feel as if they are being constantly watched and judged.
8. They have a pervasive sense of loneliness and always feel like outsiders (even when others genuinely like and love them).
9. They feel controlled – as if they always have to do want others want and say – and this blocks spontaneity.
10. They are perfectionists and usually suffer from performance anxiety. This may also cause them to be procrastinators.
11. They tend to block their feelings through compulsive behaviors like eating disorders, retail therapy or substance-abuse.
12. They find it hard to establish and enforce healthy boundaries with others.

more randoms facts about me

They wanted me to write something that evoked a strong emotion, a challenge, an unexpected situation or something that I had overcome. This covers all of those basis. 

          Entering a homeless shelter as a young child for the first time can be a very traumatic experience.  Not only has the realization that one does not have a home become concrete at this stage but the uncertainty of what’s to come can be nerve racking for just about anyone.

Upon my initial observation of the shelter I was surprised at the sheer amount of families there.  Even at the age of 10 I knew that there were homeless and those less fortunate; but to think I was now one of them was beyond depressing.  My family and I first began by queuing up with hundreds of others, outdoors, in the winter mere blocks away from the famed original Yankee Stadium.

Once within the confines of the facilities foyer I was forced to surrender my possessions and subject myself to pat down and scanning with both a wand and a large, door frame like metal detector while my possessions, along with my family’s were rifled through and likewise sent through a metal detector similar to one found in an airport security screening checkpoint. At least in this scenario I wasn’t subjected to some of the horrific and degrading treatment allotted by the TSA that has been documented by hundreds if not more of frequent flyers, celebrities, children and the elderly alike.

After this initial ordeal had passed my family and I was directed into a loud and cramped ‘Interview Room’ where an emergency housing applicant’s vital information was recorded for their personal record and a head count of the family was taken. Once this stage was completed one was to enter yet another line of perpetual waiting. At least this time around, we found ourselves indoors. At the end of this line was a single, bespectacled woman in a small room with a half, saloon type door. The woman rudely asked my guardians the number of adults and children in our ‘unit’ and proceeded to shuffle amongst the items within her tiny, prison-cell like work area. After much waiting the woman returned with a large, clear trash bag. The bag contained two blankets for each individual, a bag containing personal hygiene items such as toothpaste and soap, items for by young cousin, an infant at the time such as diapers and formula as well as other miscellanea meant to make our stay within the shelter comfortable; it was far from it.

At this stage is where the sense of helplessness and vulnerability sets in its truest and rawest forms; General Population. The facility itself was comprised of two floors. The initial first floor, who’s front rooms where dedicated to the areas I have already described: the security and screening area, the interview room, the hall in which we waited for our care packages. The remaining room left on the first floor was nothing but a huge waiting room like area divided into three areas separated by a partition wall. This areas only furniture were these cheap, grey plastic interlocking benches running along the length of the walls and in rows up and down the rest of the area.  Near the middle were two large locker room type bathroom facilities, male and female, that contained multiple bathroom stalls, benches, rows of blurry scuffed up mirrors and nary awarded the lights reflection, much less one’s own face and rows of damp, un-curtained shower stalls reminiscent of an episode of Oz.  The second floor, while containing much of the same upstairs; drab grey walls and cheap plastic seating, contained a large cafeteria, doctors office, with which I use the term loosely and the social worker interview area.

However, what was most alarming for me about General Population were the people. They looked like refugees. We looked like refugees.  One could tell the veteran dwellers from the amateurs. The veterans had secured corners of the room, most likely to ensure they could observe their surroundings easily. Camps were erected all over the place. People used the packaged provided them upon the initial intake and combined them with the items they had brought with them and formed small tents, beds, and general living spaces, corralled off with baby carriages, suitcases and the borders of others camps.  Amateurs just sat where they could, patiently awaiting the departure of others in order to attempt to gain more territory and expand what little campsite they had themselves.

Being new to the facility, my family and I knew not where to go, so we found the first empty space we could and began to set up camp. We laid out our blankets and tried to make ourselves as comfortable as possible considering we didn’t have the pleasure of a bench as many others did. I recall looking down the aisle ahead of me at a couple who had accumulated so many blankets, presumably because they had been rejected and reentered the system so many times, that they were actually able to construct a mattress on the floor, almost full size, and even had a few pillows of their own.

My bed was comprised of a sheet doubled up on the ground with my coat to serve as a pillow and a thin cotton sheet to cover me. All this I shared with my younger brother while my caregivers managed with what little covers they themselves had. I wanted nothing more than to be able to lay in the dingy Pack-n-Play baby corral that we had been issued for my infant cousin’ he was by far the comfiest of the bunch for now.

After the entire ordeal of entering the shelter had come to an end the realization that this was where I was going to live and sleep until further notice settled in and the wait for morning began…

SO yeah…I was homeless. This was just the first time too…

thatgirldaria:

BITCH, I SHOWERED FOR YOU..

Random Fact about me: THERE IS NOTHING IN THIS WORLD THAT INFURIATES ME MORE THAN THIS