Hrvatska verzija dolje ↓
I remember being six years old and attending kindergarten (a pre-school program in Croatia). I hated kindergarten. I didn’t like mean girls, and I didn’t understand its purpose. It seemed like a waste of time. Nothing of my interest was going on there. I was dreaming of the day when I will start going to school. Things will be different there, I thought. Of course, I had no idea why that was, and why was I so desperately wanting to go to school. On weekends in the morning I used to take a backpack, stuff it with coloring books and a doll, and I used to proudly walk up and down the street from our house pretending I was going to school. I couldn’t wait for it to become reality.
School was the highest achievement institution in the eyes of my parents, and the community I grew up in. School achievements were how worth was defined, they were worthy of praise and rewards. People with higher education were respected in society, they had people’s admiration and respect. Including my parents’.
At six years old, I was desperate for my parent’s attention and love. I didn’t know that back then, but I was not getting nearly enough of it. So, I had to find a way to gain some for myself. That is how any addiction happens – our subconsciousness is desperately searching for love, admiration, and appreciation we were not getting from our primary caretakers while growing up, so we resort to other things – anything that can get us there, or so we feel that is getting us there.
My weapon of choice was school. School was where I put all my attention since, as you saw, even before I started attending it. My parents’ guidance growing up was centered around school and my success through it: ‘Do you want to dig dirt for a living?’,‘Just be good in school, that’s all that matters’, ‘It is important to have good grades should you wish to amount to anything in life’. It was obvious that success in school was required should I wish to succeed. At life, as they said, or at survival as a child desperate for love, as I later discovered.
My father was not present much while I was growing up. Only words coming from him that stayed engraved in my mind were the ones where he says that having education is the most important thing, ‘that is the only guaranteed success for my future’. A child cannot really perceive what ‘success in life’ is and why would that be important. A child does not understand what it has to do with her life right now, when she is only ten. What a child hears and feels from this sentence is that her daddy is going to love, praise and respect her if she succeeds in school.
So, she did. Like a good girl she is. Like a good girl desperate for love and acknowledgment of her absent father. It’s all she did, attended schools, diploma programs, workshops, courses. She went on, and on, and on. It seemed like a Pokemon game – Gotta catch ‘em all! I remember being twenty-five and studying for my second master’s degree in the Netherlands. My father coming to me and saying ‘Good God, girl, when is that you are planning to stop studying, I would like to retire!?’.
After that degree I did stop studying on my father’s expense, but that was still not the end of it for me. I continued searching for stipends to study when I did not have my income, and later while earing my own money, spending that on further studies, courses, workshops.
It was only couple of months ago, at the age 31 that I first time asked myself ‘Why am I doing this?’. Why do I need that? Why do I so desperately want all these certificates? Don’t I have enough already? There seemed to be always something more where I can improve, a new course I could take, more I could learn. I was proud of myself for doing that, I thought of myself as a high achiever, which was something to admire and be proud of.
Sure, from the surface of things. By digging deeper into questioning the matter, for the first time I noticed that this behavior was hurting me. I was hurting myself in the name of achievement. I was not enjoying the journey I was taking. I was not enjoying going to these courses, I did not enjoy spending my evenings and weekends doing the hard work, studying, reading, re-reading, writing and re-writing. I sacrificed myself for the end-result – the achievement itself.
I did not like the harsh truth that slapped me in the face: I am an addict. An achievement addict. Inside of me there was still that little Martina desperately trying to get her parents’ love and recognition. She didn’t realize she grew up, and is not dependent on her parents’ care no longer. She doesn’t need to prove herself to anyone anymore. The achievement habit was so engraved into her, that it seemed to be a part of her DNA, something that defines who she is. Truth is, these patterns are not what defines us. It is a desperate scream for attention. We keep repeating it, and repeating it and repeating it in hope to finally give to that deprived child the love and care he or she deserves.
I was an addict in desperate pursuit of attention. I was an addict like so many others out there who have no idea at this moment that they are abusing and poisoning themselves with their addiction. Just because we did not choose drugs, cigarettes, gambling and other things labeled by our society as ‘negative’, we think we are doing the right thing. However, just like a heroin addict, we hate all those moments in absence of a ‘reward’, that achievement, that shot. Just like a nicotine addict, we don’t seem to be able to stop. Just like an alcohol abuser, we see that our weapon of choice is well accepted in society and just because it is widespread, we are convincing ourselves that there is nothing wrong with it. In reality, your desperate rat race for achievements owns you, its controls you, and you are its slave. Just like that one last shoot of heroin, your addiction will kill you. It will kill your joy, freedom, and healthy happy life that you might have had.
‘I wish I had slaved-away for one more diploma’, said no one ever on their deathbed.
Ovisnost o postignućima
Sjećam se sebe sa šest godina dok sam polazila vrtić. Mrzila sam vrtić. Nisu mi se svidjele zle curice i nisam razumijela svrhu polaženja vrtića. Ništa što bi me zanimalo nije se tamo događalo. Sanjala sam o danu kad ću krenuti u školu. Stvari će biti drugačije tamo, mislila sam. Naravno, nisam tada znala zašto je to tako i zašto sam tako strašno željela krenuti u školu. Vikendima ujutro uzela bi ruksak, napunila ga bojankama i lutkom i hodala bi ponosno našom ulicom gore-dolje praveći se da idem u školu. Nisam mogla dočekati dan kad će to postati moja stvarnost.
Škola je bila najveća institucija uspjeha u očima mojih roditelja i u zajednici u kojoj sam odrasla. Školski uspjesi bili su mjera kojom se definirala vrijednost. Školski uspjesi zavrijeđivali su pohvale i nagrade. Visoko obrazovani ljudi bili su poštovani u društvu, zavrjeđivali su divljenje i poštovanje od drugih ljudi. Uključujući moje roditelje.
Sa šest godina očajnički sam trebala ljubav i pažnju svojih roditelja. Nisam to tada znala, ali činjanica je – nisam je dobivala ni približno dovoljno. Trebala sam naći način da je pridobijem za sebe. To je način na koji se rađa bilo koja ovisnost – naša podsvijest očajnički traži ljubav, divljenje i poštovanje koje nam nedostaje, ono koje nismo dobili od svojih primarnih staratelja. Stoga se predajemo drugim rješenjima – bilo čemu što će nas dovesti tamo, ili mi mislimo da nas dovodi tamo.
Oružje koje sam ja odabrala bila je škola. Škola je bila ono gdje sam ja usmjeravala svoju pažnju, kao što ste vidjeli, još prije nego sam uopće krenula pohađati je. Instrukcije mojih roditelja dok sam odrastala bile su usredotočene na školu i moj školski uspjeh: ‘Želiš kopati kanale kad odrasteš?’, ‘Samo budi dobra u školi, to je ono što je važno’, ‘Važno je imati dobre ocjene želiš li išta postići u životu’. Bilo je očito da je uspjeh u školi bio potreban kako bih uspjela. U životu – kako su oni govorili, ili u preživljavanju kao dijete željno ljubavi – kako sam ja kasnije spoznala.
Moj otac je dio dosta odsutan dok sam odrastala. Jedine riječi kojih se sjećam bile su one gdje kaže kako je obrazovanje najvažnija stvar, ‘To je jedini način kako možeš zagarantirati uspijeh u budućnosti’. Dijete ne može razumijeti što znači ‘uspijeh u životu’ ni zašto bi to bilo važno. Dijete ne razumije kakve to veze ima s njezinim životom sada, kad ona ima deset godina. Što dijete čuje i osjeća je da će je njezin tatica voljeti, pohvaliti i poštovati ako uspije u školi.
I ona je poslušala. Kao dobra curica. Kao dobra curica potrebna ljubavi i potvrde svog odsutnog oca. To je sve čime se bavila, pohađala škole, diplomske programe, radionice, tečajeve. Jednog, drugog, trećeg… Činilo se kao u igri Pokemon – moraš skupit’ sve! Sjećam se kad mi je bilo dvadeset pet tokom drugog magisterija u Nizozemskoj. Moj otac u jednom trenutku rekao je: ‘ Pa dobro, kćeri, do kad misliš studirati, ja bih napokon želio u zasluženu mirovinu!?’.
Nakon te diplome prestala sam studirati na očev trošak, ali tu nije bio kraj studiranju za mene. Dok sam bila nezaposlena tražila sam stipendije za tečajeve i radionice, a kad sam počela zarađivati, svoj sam novac trošila da nastavim studirati, učiti, pohađati tečajeve.
Tek sam se prije nekoliko mjeseci, u 31.-oj godini zapitala: ‘Zašto to radim?’. Zašto mi to treba? Zašto toliko očajnički želim sve te certifikate? Nemam li ih već dovoljno? Uvijek je postojalo nešto gdje bih se mogla usavršiti, novi tečaj koji bih mogla pohađati, nešto više što bih mogla naučiti. Bila sam ponosna na sebe što sam to činila, mislila sam o sebi kao o uspješnoj osobi. To je bilo nešto vrijedno divljenja, nešto na što čovjek može biti ponosan.
Svakako, s površine se tako čini. Ispitujući dublje ovu situaciju, prvi sam put primjetila da me to ponašanje povrijeđivalo. Ja sam samu sebe povrijeđivala u ime postignuća. Nisam uživala u tom procesu kojem sam se podvrgavala. Nisam uživala u pohađanju tih tečajeva, nisam bila sretna provodeći večeri i vikende naporno radeći, učeći, pišući i prepisujući. Žrtvovala sam se za krajnji rezultat – postignuće koje je taj proces donosio.
Nije mi se svidjela surova istina koja me ošamarila: ja sam ovisnik. Ovisnik o postignućima. Unutar mene ona mala Martina i dalje je pokušavala osvojiti ljubav i priznanje svojih roditelja. Ona nije shvatila da je odrasla i nije više ovisna o brizi svojih roditelja. Navika trčanja za postignućima bila je tako duboko ukorijenjena u njoj, činilo se da je dio njezinog genetskog koda, nešto što ju je definiralo kao osobu. Međutim, istina je, ti obrasci ponašanja nisu ono što nas definira. Oni su očajnički urlik za pažnjom. Ponavljamo ih, ponavljamo i ponavljamo u nadi da ćemo napokon tom uskraćenom djetetu dati ljubav i pažnju koju zaslužuje.
Bila sam ovisnik u očajničkoj potrazi za pažnjom. Bila sam ovisnik poput toliko drugih koji u ovom trenutku nisu svjesni da se uzurpiraju i truju svojom ovisnošću. Samo zato što nismo odabrali drogu, cigarete, kockanje i ostalo što je etiketirano u našem društvu kao štetno, mislimo da činimo dobru stvar za sebe. Međutim, kao i ovisnik o heroinu, mi mrzimo sve one trenutke u odsutnosti naše nagrade, tog postignuća, tog šuta. Kao i ovisnik o nikotinu, ne čini se da možemo prestati. Kao i ovisnik o alkoholu, naša je droga prihvaćena u društvu i samo zato što je svuda oko nas, mi se uvjeravamo da nema ništa lošeg u našem ponašanju. U stvarnosti, ti si kao hrčak u svom malom valjku, tvoja trka za postignućima te posjeduje, kontrolira i čini te njezinim robom. Kao i onaj posljednji šut heroina, i tvoja će te ovisnost ubiti. Ubiti će radost u tebi, slobodu i zdrav, sretan život koji si mogao imati.
‘Željela bih da sam se pomučila za još jednu diplomu’, nije na samrti nitko nikada rekao.