Anxious

I’m currently reading How To Do The Work, by Dr. Nicole LePera, a Christmas gift from my sweet girlfriend, and also Polysecure, by Jessica Fern. As a result, I’m learning a lot about the Four Attachment Styles. I’m also learning about mine in particular: Anxious Attachment style.

Most of us develop these attachment styles in our childhood (although, I’m learning, it is possible to change into an “earned” attachment style that is different than your original one). There’s a whole host of interesting behavioral science behind these styles that both of the aforementioned books explain better than I could.

The Anxious attachment style is heavily associated with parents who just weren’t around much in early childhood. My father was aloof and distant, and when he remarried, his new family became his priority. Check!

I always thought I had a very good and strong relationship with my mother, but she was a single working mom. As a social worker, she sometimes had to prioritize her patients, especially when she worked in the emergency medical field. And when she remarried, trying to stabilize a very chaotic blended household was sometimes more of a focus than I was. I do remember a lot of times playing in my room alone while battles took place in the hallway outside my door. Double check!

As you can see from the above graphic, I have a tendency to think highly of others and lowly of myself. While doing the work, you’re asked to identify your core beliefs, and one of mine can be summed up as: “Other people are important; I am not.” Not a healthy attitude, clearly, but one I have really struggled to shake in my life.

Low self-esteem has plagued me my entire life, and the shame from my sexual abuse made it so much worse. As a result, I really have a hard time prioritizing my own needs in a relationship. I feel like I’m lucky just to have anyone who will be with me. I believe that I surely don’t deserve their love, so I cannot rock the boat and ask for anything I want. If I do, they will reject me, leave, and I will b alone again.

Of course, that doesn’t mean my needs go away — I’m just not listening to them. Over time, they build into anger and resentment. A textbook case of this is my third marriage, which in hindsight lasted far too long and was characterized by my inability to break away until she kidnapped our kids (more on that story later).

Now that I’m aware of my problems, I can work on them — but they are not easy habits to break. On one level, I know that I am a decent friend, a good dad, and a caring partner. In sum, a decent to good man. But I cannot see my value from an emotional perspective.

When I am struggling, all of my feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness return. I believe that my partner deserves better, that I’m unworthy of being with them, and that they will certainly leave me as soon as they realize this for themselves. It’s so obvious for me; how can they not see it?

This leads me to get very clingy. I perform more and more acts of service, completely ignoring what I want in favor of doing their dishes, cleaning their bathroom, cooking them a meal. I become so desperate to hang onto the relationship that it can in turn drive those people away.

It’s a terrible, awful cycle. I feel miserable but cannot break out of it. I just spiral, down and down and further down. Often this is accompanied by physical symptoms as my body disregulates and throws me into fight-or-flight mode.

Is there a cure? I don’t know yet. There are things I can try. I’m headed back to therapy again and I recently started taking anti-depressants again. I’m trying to educate myself on attachment styles and explore my past with fresh eyes, unclouded by my childish misinterpretations.

I’m trying to figure out the rest of the steps but it’s a definite work in progress. For the sake of my current partner, though, I need to make progress before I sabotage the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had.

Have you ever struggled with this? Can you provide any advice? I’d love to hear.