Accepting Acceptance I've also noticed a similar refusal of acceptance in my relationships. When people show me real affection, I feel a confusing mix of anger and sadness. It feels like an unbreakable barrier. Love can't get in, and I can't let it out.
So, ummm, how does one go about dealing with this? — csalisbury
My amateurish attempt at an answer with the usual disclaimers:
Those who have little power over others (have difficulties embedding themselves socially) can fall back on asserting power over themselves through self-punishment. Sort of a minimal affirmation of identity (if I can at least feel contempt for my weaknesses, I exist in some sense beyond them). To allow affection in then would be to short-circuit that self-sustaining dynamic (if I'm accepting of affection from others, I'm worthy of it and need not punish myself) and leave oneself in a potential vacuum where one is now pushed to identify with one's "weak" self and the locus of power shifts to the unpredictable external (so now what if that affection gets pulled and I've no punisher to fall back on? I'm unified, but I'm nothing. No good). Kind of chicken and egg. You need a strong sense of identity to properly receive and reciprocate love, but what you most need to achieve that strong self is loving relationships or at least stable positively reciprocative relationships.
How to deal with it? I'd say turn it around. Be the one who gives affection first without any expectation of reciprocation. Be the one who helps. Be the one who gives/creates as much as possible for what that is worth in itself. Take everything else as a bonus. Likely positive relationships/interactions will then form naturally on which you can build an identity that doesn't require you-the-sinner as a foil to make it feel real. In that context acceptance of affection becomes less crucial and more organic.
Another thought: if you want something too much for the wrong reasons, you'll find a way to thwart yourself getting it and become reliant more on wanting it than the thing itself (whatever it is) so that it becomes you (in the sense that up until the point you actually get it you exist minimally, but if you get it, you are lost because there is nothing left of you, you were all want). In Dante's hell, as you pointed out, the sinners have become the sin, have achieved its logic and are reduced to a minimal level of identity within it (i.e. that necessary to suffer) from which there is no escape. There is nothing left of them, they were all want, yet they cannot ever achieve oblivion. The worst of all worlds in which forgiveness is impossible because the sinner embodies its obverse and so is beyond even seeing the other side of the coin.