My oldest boy has always loved pestering my middle child.
One day in particular a couple months ago, my oldest was being especially mean. Sitting on the couch, I watched as he swung his arm and slugged my middle boy for no reason, making him cry. Tired of this, I calmly looked at my middle child and told him to hit his older brother back. A cruel smile spread across his face, and he took full advantage of this opportunity by slamming my oldest over and over again. Eventually, I had to pry him off.
This was probably not one of my best mothering moments. I probably shouldn't have encouraged violence, but the reason I tell this is story is because just like my middle child sometimes I enjoy hurting those who hurt me, and sometimes I do it without even knowing.
Several years ago, I had an experience in my work. Part of my job as a Medical Coder was to review the notes of providers to make sure they were following documentation guidelines. and then provide feedback and recommendations to the doctors to make their notes better.
I was newly assigned to a doctor that I'd never met and knew very little about. I was asked to audit his notes, note trends and then encourage the provider to make changes accordingly. I did so and just like I did with all the other doctors I audited, I sent some emails to ask some questions and communicate my findings. This doctor was kind in his responses, something I appreciated since many doctors are less than friendly... which is why I was caught completely off guard when this doctor sent an email to all four of my supervisors and the department manager saying that I was an overwhelming coder.
My supervisors immediately removed me from the task of auditing this doctor's notes and I was told to never send an email to him again, not even to apologize.
This experience has haunted me for the past five years, surfacing occasionally, and forcing me to relive the embarrassment and shame that resulted from what I did. Perhaps I did send one too many emails or perhaps I asked a question that I should have known the answer to. No matter what, I was to blame for the whole mess, and I felt this burden every time I relived the experience. I tried especially hard to forgive myself for being an "overwhelming coder", but no matter how hard I tried, this experience continued to fester inside me.
A couple months ago, this experience popped up again making me feel sick to my stomach as it entered my mind. Because it was making me feel so discouraged and worthless, I decided to sit down and really try to figure out what was going on. After working through things for two hours, I finally began to understand.
All along I had thought the feelings of embarrassment and shame were a result of the mistake I had made, but they weren't. Instead, they were the result of how people had treated me and how they made me feel after I made the mistake. Everyone involved had made me feel unimportant and stupid by telling me I was no longer good for this provider and, whether I deserved to be treated that way or not, they hurt me by the way they handled what I'd done. I was holding on to that hurt.
Without even realizing it, when the event happened, I had decided, just like my middle child hitting my oldest, that I wanted to hurt them back.
The harm I chose, was hate.
I, of course, did not want to let go of the hate once I realized that that was what I was feeling, but I could feel this was hurting me more than it was hurting anyone else. I don't want to feel that way anymore. I don't want to feel worthless, stupid and insignificant, and I knew in that moment that the best way for me to get rid of all those feelings was to choose to forgive. And so I did. I made that choice, and I was amazed at how quickly I felt that feeling of worthlessness disappear. It was freeing!
This experience with the doctor has since popped up more times, but each time I attacked it with words of forgiveness towards those involved. Instead of feeling worthless for the rest of the day, I feel relieved and in charge. I feel good.
It amazes me that my feelings of hate towards someone else could be so misconstrued in my own mind as hate for myself and could make me feel so worthless.
I've since gotten better at recognizing this feeling of hate when it first plants itself, and I have discovered that harnessing hate is a favorite pastime of mine :) I do it often. But I now feel more empowered in knowing that I understand what's happening, and I can choose to do what I need to in order to feel better, about myself... and others. I've been able to let go of a couple of other haunting experiences because of this knowledge. It's great.
"To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you." Lewis B. Smedes
By the way, this is a picture of my oldest boy giving my middle child a hug on his birthday. Awww, they do love each other. :)
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