Pixabay: Flensshot
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In my childhood, I never had a content moment, a moment of pure satisfaction, a situation that had a purpose I created.
My parents were young, 16 when the pregnancy happened. My father resented his freedom being stolen, later I would read about how narcissists only care about themselves .
I know a purpose would benefit me. My mother told me God made me to be a professional baseball player, my father just demanded I be twice as good as everyone else, there was no room for my purpose.
I do not feel sorry for myself, I want to understand why my life lacked purpose. Starved for approval throughout my childhood, adulthood was a lost journey for decades.
Who was I? “I” had no idea.
Looking back, experiencing approval was more important than my wellbeing. I would risk and persevere to earn approval.
Approval equaled happiness for me, but happiness is not what I felt.
Approval was external, fleeting and could change to criticism, so life was always stressful, in flux.
Approval was never permanent so my pseudo happiness was based on false assumptions.
I yearn for that content, calm, confidant feeling, an internal knowing I am fine.
My path has decided to enhance giving and gratitude.
Thoughts and emotions are discounted as ephemeral and transparent, like appendages.
My Aware Presence is given maximum energy.
Simple, concrete, specific goals are best.
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PTSD - A Way Out.com 
Posted by America On Coffee on September 23, 2019 at 10:10 pm
Very explicit.🍵
Posted by Marty on September 23, 2019 at 10:50 pm
Actually this description of my childhood is kind of general
Once a week my mother would buy and cook Lima beans
My father made a paddle he had drilled holes in.
He beat me once a week til he was tired for vomiting Lima beans
That was not the only beating but that was constant my whole childhood
Posted by Marty on September 23, 2019 at 11:36 pm
Thanks for your insight
It’s hard to have perspective when you were raised in such a violent and critical environment