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(the first post in this series is here:  On Being A Social Outcast )
There is a link at the bottom of this post
that will take you to the next post in this series.

As I said earlier, I was able to read an entire book in one day. The book was called “Telling Yourself the Truth“.

The most singular thing which stood out in this book was that of self-rewards.

When I was growing up, there were no rewards for good behavior, only an endless supply of punishment. This is what the introject-father has been mimicking. Only punishment. Never reward.

In years past I’ve been told to tell myself in the mirror; “I love you.” And that if I do this long enough, I will actually begin to feel it. This has not been the case with me, nor I wonder if it could work with anyone who has had to overcome the pressure such a strong, powerful, and negative introject-father as I have had to.

But now I no longer have this introject-father pressing down so hard on me.

So I decided I would try put this to the test. And how I decided to go about doing it was to give myself verbal pats on the back. Without interference from the introject-father this seemed to be easy… fun even. As I was cleaning the house, something I have always found difficult, I started to ‘reward’ myself by telling myself, over and over and over again, how great I how wonderful a person I was for doing such an excellent job of cleaning up. I just kept saying; “What a good girl you are for doing this! You’re doing a great job here! Atta girl!” Every kind of verbal reward I could think of, I spoke out loud to myself.

The verbal rewards felt like basking in the summer sun lying in a warm delightful meadow. Like refreshing water given to a person who has, for years, been dieing of thirst. I rolled in the reward like a horse rolling with extract in the hay. Like hugging a puppy because it went potty on it’s paper. I can’t describe the warmth I was feeling inside as I cleaned and cooed to myself like this. There was no introject-father to interfere. No introject-father to harangue me, or to destroy my kind words. No introject-father to remind me that I was total shit. The words of love I spoke to myself came out as clear as a sprightly bell. They embraced me, and I felt it.

I just can’t tell you how wonderful that feels. To feel so much love coming to me… from myself.

The next post in this series is here:  Retribution