Why I was controlling — A self psychoanalysis

NS
NS
Aug 27, 2017 · 9 min read

The ability to look within is a rare quality. Acknowledging your bitter observations is rarer.

However I wish to do both today.

The statement above reflects exactly who I am. A person set out to do things differently. A person obsessed with the grandeur.

People like me are good leaders. But there is something very common with all the great leaders. They have very limited close knitted relationship.

They do know how to work their charm on a vast majority of people they meet but they tend not to put a continual effort to keep up that charm with most of the people. If they do, they don’t do it out of their general nature, they do it because they do it because it is a part of the leadership they command.

Speaking of command. Another ‘C’ word common with leaders is ‘controlling’. I have often been described as controlling which isn’t a good thing.

So let me start with the main trait that I want to address today.

Controlling- It might not be easy to digest but I believe controlling nature is borne out of ‘fear of rejection’. An insecure person tries to control more. This is a bitter reality in my case. However, to say that it makes me deplorable would be a sad understanding. We all are product of our memories and experiences. There have been numerous traumatic experiences that made me an insecure person always fearing rejection. It’s a side which isn’t noticeable on the surface but it does come out in deeper relationships.

Now onto why I became such. I was raised during my childhood mostly by my maternal grandfather. He used to take me everywhere he went- at relatives’ house, at friends, at gatherings, at lawyers. Practically everywhere. I spent a majority of my early childhood with him instead of my lovely father. He was a feared man and not particularly liked in his vast family. I was a quite and shy kid and didn’t used to talk much. As I used to accompany my grandfather, I seldom faced rejection from his side of the family. Since I spoke less, they took me as ‘akdu’ (arrogant) a trait they generally associated with my grandfather.

It is very important to understand here that a child generally sees himself through his elders’ eyes. How you treat a child tends to have life altering implications.

This was the early stage of rejection in my life that continued into my early teens. My second stage of rejection was a relationship I invested myself in at an early age. The girl with whom I used to spend the whole day at school and chatted for hours post that chose another guy from a different city. First it was kept a secret from me, later it became overt when I first learned about it from a common friend.

Here comes my second trait. “Fear of Secrets”

When it was revealed to me after such a long time that she had been romantically involved with another guy, it broke me. It broke me to such an extent that I became too suspicious of Secrets. Secrets became my enemy and I became a fan of keeping everything in open light.

My fear of rejection that is, as I believe the underlying cause of my controlling demeanor, also comes from a personal issue I dealt with for a very prolonged time in my life. I have not yet discussed it with anyone, and I will not again. However this did affect my first serious relationship and caused more pain to me than her. When you are in pain and in a relationship, it tends to infect the partner as well. Its more sad when the partner, unknowingly inflicts the same pain on you over and over again and you cannot tell why it hurts.

The third underlying cause is the death of two people who loved me most. Two very different people but definitely most important ones. First, my grandfather.

As soon as my grandfather died. I was left alone. My father used to be on tours and my mother with my sister. The extended family already despised me, for I was ‘akdu’. The fact that I was a smart kid, smarter than the other kids in the family, made people envy me more. I was considered ‘a privileged brat’. Which is true I guess. But underneath the privilege, I was a very kind kid too. Since early childhood I had seen many mythological shows. My father was a very generous man. This quality imbibed in me from a very early age. A symbol of my generosity would be a memory that is coming to me as I right this.

I remember there was a time when our family and that of nishi (friend) went together on Maharashtra trip. We were visiting a temple in a village and I saw a young girl (of my age) who asked me for money. I only had ₹5 coin in my pocket, and I gave it to her but was ashamed. I wanted to give more. So I not only took money from papa, aayi and Nishi’s parents but also from every single adult who came to visit the temple. I begged for money wearing very nice clothes. When they asked me why I needed money, I pointed to the girl and said for her. Each person smiled and gave me atleast 10 rupees. In 15 minutes I had collected a lot of money and gave it all to her.

Now, all grown up, I have the urge to help people as much as I can but then I realize my own state of destitution and pull my hand back. A lot of times it cringes me to think How papa would feel if he saw me rejecting a beggar. I guess your life’s own miseries make you less sensitive to those of others at times.

Alright, coming back to the second death. My father. In between the death of my grandfather and my father, there was a good 7 year gap which was the period I really, truly, sincerely, deeply bonded with my father. I still say he was the only person who used to get me. As he passed away, I was left alone. Again. My sister and mother were the closely knitted ones. And many times I left I don’t belong. My sister used to sleep with my other, and I used to sleep with my father. Well into the first year of my college as well.

I used to cuddle him, kiss him and play with him. Being a studious guy, he was the only friend I had outside school. He used to come tired home after a long trip and yet there was I, sitting in the porch with a bat and ball in my hand. He used to play too. He used to say I am tired sometimes but always gave up when I insisted. This is something which I won’t deny to my kid either.. Adopted or otherwise (unlikely).

After his death, I was truly left alone. And shortly after I went into a. Relationship.

It wasn’t an ideal time now that I think of it. But maybe I needed it too.

The relationship was truly beautiful and I still cherish the memories. But it started to go bad once the insecurities started coming in. At first it was her ex.

Her deciding to end it within a month on his return, her chats that hit me on two levels and lot of things affected me. I talked myself out of it, saying that I love her more than anything else and she does too. Nothing else matters.

We grew close, spending the whole days with each other. Our love was Beautiful. Nothing like that exists today. It reached another level. However things started going bad when her family started intervening. Her inclination shifted. I had by then made her my everything and when I began to realize there are more important people than in me in her life, it troubled me. I started becoming more of a control freak. I asked of unreasonable things. All originating from a point when I was discarded.

She thought that I would do some things that I still cannot dream of (after I have the resources, the method and the means) more shockingly she revealed her thoughts to people that in my subconscious had already become ‘competition’.

When I was threatened of a complaint by the girl who was everything to me, on the instructions of anybody, it left a permanent mark.

The thing I held so sacred was being treated like dirt and I became the personification of it. From that particular incident, post which it I was the one who reconciled, my urge to control increased (for I was loosing someone I loved most) and her desire to be controlled declined. At this stage if she would have come to me, instead of me reaching out, things might have gotten better. Because then the insecure part of my head, that said “you ain’t important to her” would have assuaged. It didn’t. It still hasn’t.

Reason-post that moment, every time after “a major conflict”, I reached out. Not her.

I even proposed marrying her. Now that I think of it, I saw it as necessary for it was the only way to assure my subconscious mind that I was important. I was not redundant and she considered me as close as I considered her.

Being rejected at this proposal, however bizarre it might be was an end to the chances of my insecurities going away.

Those were at sky high when she stopped talking to me when she went to Mumbai. When she was going for one last time, permanently, it drove me crazy as I once again tried to establish control, to look for proofs that she valued us more than anything else, like I did. The fact that she had once again discarded me when the first time she was Mumbai had a major impact too. It was once again, I, who initiated a return to the romantic relationship. Another chance she missed, another experience that would traumatize me, and in turn, the relationship.

Now that she is gone forever and I have nobody. After I have lost a few good chances of getting my life back on track. After another traumatic final episode of being rejected. Of not being considered important enough. Another set of me crying, screaming, dying to see one last act that showed I mattered, After another juncture where she didn’t come forward to make things right, after all of this it has ended.

And so has my desire to live. Everyday on my way to office I have the urge to burst my vehicle into the next bus I see. Everyday I see myself dying. And I ask myself, would I matter then? Would I be important then? Would this make her remember that there was a fool, a stupid controlling lover she left behind?

To be honest, after all of this I do not have a sure answer. Maybe it will momentarily. But then every thing is forgotten.

This insecurity, this fear of rejection that made me a control freak has also made me suicidal. However suicide isn’t the only thought I get. A part of me, says I become ascetic and leave off to some place far away. But then I fear I still be longing to see her. What’s the point I ask.

Everyday I try and forget her but throughout the day she rides my thoughts, whether I am awake or sleeping has no bearance. I used to open Telegram ever 30 min. Now I reduced it. It is the only medium that connects us somehow, apart from Twitter.

Why has he not yet changed her password I do not know. Twitter is my only outlet. I made sure to block her so she couldn’t read my tweets, but then I unblocked thinking she doesn’t read anyway, why bother.

Coming back to my own psychoanalysis, I think I am beyond cure now. Never will I be able to truly forgive her. Unless she pulls off something miraculous that would forge our Alliance (which she won’t).

There are moments in the day when I am normal. After writing these things I feel like I shouldn’t have. I see it as an act of wasting my energies on a person who doesn’t care enough.

But these moments are rare and are overpowered by my desire to end my life- the only way I can get rid of her memories. The last rejection of my life.

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NS

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NS

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