Organized Chaos

At this point I’m not sure I want to have children. My whole life I’ve anted children, in fact I even work with children as a child therapist in training. However, after the last two months, I’m not too sure it’s what I want anymore. My parents are good people, albeit a bit unstable. They tried they’re best while raising me and any outsider would think they did a bang up job. I don’t think people become parents and the first thought that pops into their head is “Let’s see how much I can fuck this one up without necessarily breaching the point where they kill themselves.” I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t go through that thought process. No matter how well-intentioned they were, however, here I am. Having been emotionally abused my whole life (unintentionally as it might have been) I feel a little lost.

I feel like every drop of affection I’ve received has always been contingent on something. I might be generalizing a bit too much since even I don’t think it’s possible that it was always the case. My mistakes have always cost me dearly and the punishment rarely ever fit the crime. Most of the time, my parents didn’t beat me or anything most people would consider “serious”; more often than not my parents (specifically my dad) would simply say how dissapointed they were in me. Which ultimately always left me feeling dissapointed in myself, and then becoming an embodiment of that sentiment, “I am a dissapontment.”

And therein lies my issue with kids, if my parents tried their hardest and still wound up screwing me up, what hope is there for me? Will my honorable intentions harm someone or can I overcome my shortcomings?