Anabel González: "What didn't happen to us is harder to overcome."

Anabel González is a psychiatrist and medical doctor. She has written several books analyzing how what happens to us affects us, but in her latest publication she does exactly the opposite: she addresses how things that haven't happened to us shape us. She makes this clear in the title itself, What didn't happen (Planet).

"There is no worse nostalgia than glorifying what never happened.", sang Sabina. Is it true?

— It depends on what we put into that expectation that was not met.

Does what happened to us hurt more or what we missed?

— The problem with what didn't happen is that sometimes it goes unnoticed. It's an influence that's harder to control and, therefore, to overcome.

What could we be missing?

— Many things, however, there are three main cores: abandonment, absence and loss.

What is the difference between loss and abandonment?

— Those who leave leave because they choose to, even if it's a decision with many conditions. The loss isn't voluntary. A parent who leaves home isn't the same as one who dies.

Both examples are from childhood.

— I think you can only feel abandoned if you've known that feeling since childhood. How do you leave an adult?

Can't an adult feel abandoned?

— Let's take an example. My father left home when I was little, and I've been getting by, and the topic hasn't been discussed. Until my partner left me, and Pandora's box opens, because the brain interprets the same thing. An adult who hasn't had that experience will be left but not abandoned. Abandonment should resonate with us from childhood.

Can abandonment occur in everyday situations, such as a parent who works too hard?

— Only those who were there abandon you. A hard-working father isn't going to experience abandonment if it's always been that way.

How does it affect us?

— The fear of abandonment contaminates relationships. It can affect me by causing me to overreact when someone doesn't call me or tell me about something. Or, in the case of a partner, by making me jealous, dependent, or possessive. And at the other extreme is avoidance—all the things I do to avoid an abandonment that never happened.

What is the fault?

— Nothingness. And even though it's something we've grown accustomed to not being there, it takes its toll. And it's the hardest thing to identify.

Any examples?

— Growing up feeling like no one cares about you. And it doesn't mean your family is bad, but maybe there was someone sick who needed attention, or a sibling with a lot of problems who was the focus of the family.

And what consequences does it have?

— The figure of the invisible. He gets so used to being invisible that he always tries to make sure no one sees him, or goes so far as to always call attention to himself, because he thinks that if he doesn't make an extra effort or give something extra, he won't be valued.

Also be the great caregiver?

— Of course, the essentials. And it's highly socially rewarded, but it puts extreme demands on you. The risk is that your own needs will start to call out to you, or you'll become exhausted and depressed.

And with all this, what do we do?

— For me, the important thing is to look back to understand where the root lies. There are three phases.

The first one.

— Go in without a fight. There are people who have abandonment wounds so painful that they start picking and scratching, and that has never healed the wounds.

The second says that it is learning to see.

— If I, for example, haven't been seen or valued, there's a risk that I won't know how to see or value. Those who feel indispensable must learn to see that their needs matter.

And the third and last?

— Sowing. I use this metaphor because we're dealing with something that hasn't grown, so we must sow, water, cultivate the soil, and give it time. We must use a farmer's philosophy so that things that may not have had the opportunity to grow do so.

And isn't the most difficult thing daring to fight for what you didn't fight for?

— Sowing is less tiring than struggling. And you have to go millimeter by millimeter; there's no magic in this. Things are learned. But I have to teach my brain with the same patience with which one teaches a child, because it takes longer to learn something when we've learned the opposite.

He also talks about the trauma triangle.

— The persecutor, the victim and the rescuer.

And he gives the series as an example My stuffed reindeer.

— Because it describes it so well: the two main characters are very traumatized and constantly moving from one role to another.

That is, we do not have a single role.

— A child experiencing violence with their parents may intervene to rescue a parent. They act as a rescuer. But they're also a victim. And at school, they can be aggressive and act as a persecutor. We live in these paradoxes constantly.

Since we're talking about victims, does forgiveness help?

— There are therapeutic approaches that promote it. I'm not a fan of forgiveness. I think it ultimately places the victim under the obligation to bear that toll. To be well, should I forgive this complete son of a bitch? How will I do this? I don't think it's necessary; you can be well without forgiving. What I do think is important is letting go of the anger, because trapped in resentment, it's hard to be well.

Does bad luck exist?

— It's not a cosmic phenomenon; there may be coincidences. What is certain is that if you believe you're an unlucky person, when negative things happen, you don't cope with them any better.

And how does it affect the way we talk to ourselves?

— It's like the soundtrack effect; it completely changes the movie. We are the narrators of our own story, and it changes greatly depending on how we tell it.