I’ve been experiencing deep anxiety about starting and completing tasks.

So I decided to I sit with that emotion for a little while and several memories spontaneously came up.

The first memory was in the third grade. I had to stay after school because I didn’t pay attention or wasn’t able to complete an assignment. I really didn’t know what I was doing and the teacher offered no help. Apparently, she was punishing me for my inabilities. I’d been sitting in my chair for at least 30 minutes staring at the paper. I had to go to the bathroom. I asked the teacher if I could use the restroom and she said no. I couldn’t wait any longer and I peed my pants.

It was Friday and I can still see the clock showing 4 pm when she allowed me to leave. I had been sitting in a pool of urine the entire time. My pants were soaked.

The seats we had back then were large fiberglass seats with a bowl to sit in.As I left I looked bad and I could see a pool of urine in my seat.

By the time I came back Monday morning the pool of urine had dried into a yellow crusty stain. I remember sitting in my chair and being ashamed. I didn’t want anyone to know what had happened. I would squirm around and try and get the yellow stain off the chair and onto my pants. It took several days of squirming before the chair was clean.

My second experience in school was in the fourth grade. The teacher knew I wasn’t paying attention so she intentionally had me go to the chalkboard and perform a math problem. I didn’t know how to do it. I can remember standing at the chalkboard and having shame wash over me. All the students were staring at me. She let me stand there long enough so that I would “learn my lesson.”

Incidentally, I never had anyone help me with any of my schoolwork. I only got reprimanded because my grades weren’t good enough and was told to try harder. No one understood at that time that I probably had ADD and ADHD. The best solution was to shame a child into trying harder.

I also had an experience in the seventh grade. I was sick for a couple of weeks and missed out on a perspective drawing art class that I really enjoyed. I remember working very hard on my drawing and I thought it was great. The teacher gave me a C+, but my friend Steve Lang looked at it and told me how bad it was. He really chided me for how pathetic I was.

I can remember feeling so inadequate and stupid.

Another experience was in eighth grade in Mr. Clark’s math class. Mr. Clark was a big 6’6” tall and very muscular man. As usual, I wasn’t paying attention. He called out my name and told me to come to the front of the class. He had me bend over, grab my ankles and then he hit me with a paddle so hard I cried all the way back to my desk.

The Last experience I remember is being in high school in the 10th grade. I had a history teacher named Mr. Gear. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but in front of the whole class he called me Crotch and everyone laughed. I can still see some of the student’s faces laughing at me. I wanted to kill him

I was a scrawny kid and got picked close to last in gym class for team sports. That didn’t help either.

No wonder I’m an introvert and hate groups of people.

I never remember my father ever telling me I did anything good. Throughout my childhood and teenage years, it seemed like I was only a disappointment to him. On one occasion when I was 16, I remember him yelling at me and telling me he’d never seen anybody do something so stupid.

What’s been helpful for me in dealing with these memories is to recall the memory. I talk to my child-self and let him know that it wasn’t his fault and that I was actually a very creative and bright child. And that it wasn’t his fault no one ever bothered to help me. I also let my child-self know that I would never ever allow anything like that to happen again.

I speak to the adult in the situation and let them know that they were fuckers and how dare they treat a child like that. I stand up for myself now because I couldn’t back then.

This seems to have a profound effect on my psyche and some sort of healing takes place. Each time I do this work I find the fear and resistance begin to fade and occur less often.

In some situations I’ve worked with, I experience complete freedom from my previous feelings and they never return.

Another process that has been extremely liberating is to forgive both myself and the person who tried to belittle me. I realize they didn’t know any better and in their own fucked up way they were trying to help me. Well, maybe not Mr. Gear, he was just trying to get a laugh at my expense.

I’m not playing the victim. I believe my life is my responsibility. However, it is extremely helpful for me to uncover the origins of my feelings, especially those that limit my behaviors.