Chapter 11: Masks Forged in Silent Scars

“The ego is not master in its own house.”

  — Sigmund Freud

Looking into the mirror, Alex searched for himself, but the reflection in it bore no resemblance to what he sought, hiding a scarred soul. Teeth, like rotting fences, glowed sickly through corpse-thin lips beneath the natural-born blond, which felt to him like wearing someone else's skin. His right ear—a mangled reminder of his father's drunken rage five years ago—had turned the world into a half-heard puzzle, another layer of confusion atop his already scrambled letters and racing thoughts. Shadows rippled beneath the surface as though the mirror glass held something alive and watching. He turned away, unable to bear it, the splintered image behind him whispering into his good ear.  “Look at yourself very carefully.  What have you become? Do you know who you are?” The inner voice was a harsh-puzzle of identity, broken but still conveying the meaning. 

“You are a coward! Weak and pathetic, and you can't even end that!” his self-destructive thoughts reminded him.  The morning after standing at the edge brought no dramatic changes. The same clock tower that had witnessed his near surrender casted the same shadows across Clock Junction, the neighborhood where he lived.  The growls of his stepfather's hangover still echoed through breakfast. His mother moved numb and quiet, still the same, as she served boiled eggs and sausages. Only now did Alex watch them with different eyes—a gaze that measured the speed of a nine-story fall and the force of impact on the pavement, yet chose to pull back. That night on the rooftop something fundamental within Alex had shifted; even survival itself became an act of resistance.

The classroom had become a battlefield by ninth grade, and school had become a minefield of both expectations and disappointments. Each day brought new disasters that seemed magnetically drawn to Alex's presence—shattered windows, burst pipes and explosions of temper that matched the chaos in his mind. The head teacher's office became as familiar as his own bedroom, as he was behind every blame at school.  His escape attempts from school were motivated by the same desire to leave traditional education and the blame he was caring.  It came not from rebellion, but exhaustion, of the reality he was in.

An ice cream vendor job offered temporary refuge and a taste of independence that felt like freedom. But seasonal work, like everything else in Alex's life, proved temporary. Persuaded by his wise grandmother, Alex decided to try and continue his studies at an evening school to at least obtain a high school education.

               The evening school experiment lasted two months on paper and two weeks in real life before imploding. A misfit and a dropout. The same motives that had haunted his days now followed him into the night—sporadic attendance, passive resistance, the magnetic pull to anything and everything that wasn't part of his studies. The expulsion surprised no one, least of all Alex.

The battlefield called “home” in the aftermath of that night on the roof, took on a surreal quality. His stepfather's rage now seemed almost like a movie act—a performance Alex watched from behind a carefully constructed wall of politeness. His mother's attempts at peacekeeping felt like scenes from a soap opera he'd watched too many times. His Sanctuary was across town—and in his grandmother's book-filled living room, where Alex discovered what home could mean. "Senele Panele" created a space where silence didn't mean danger, and where questions were welcomed rather than punished. The contrast between these two worlds shaped him in ways he was only beginning to understand.

The Grandmother's light echoed amongst mountains of books and wisdom earned through raising four children alone.  Alex’s grandmother offered more than shelter—she offered possibility.  “You have this nasty Vaicekauskas family gene,” she would say, her eyes bright with conviction. “Education is your compass.” Her words planted seeds in ground that was rich with seeds of desperation.

At sixteen, after a childhood marked by abuse and loneliness, Alex’s ego crafted a new survival strategy. He was lonely, dependent, withdrawn, and ignorant. Chronic stress, born from years of psychological suffering, became like a familiar friend, introducing him to dopamine’s solace. A daily habit, sometimes multiple times a day, became a strange salvation, calming his restless mind and numbing his brain, yet eroding his soul’s strength. Each act fed the ego’s illusion of controlling his pain, though deep within, a faint voice whispered that the true path lay ahead.

He yielded to external conflicts, becoming submissive and pleasant to everyone, though inside he felt like a bucket contaminated with clumps of stagnant tar. His “seeming” agreeability became his armor; better to numb the pain by people pleasing. Each smile, helpful gesture, and moment of putting others first built a fortress around his wounded, fragile little ego. But peace bought with pieces of yourself comes at a terrible price. The more Alex disappeared into what others needed him to be, the harder it became to remember who he was. His empathy, once a light, became a darkness devouring his soul, warped into a curse that forced him to sacrifice his desires and belief in himself. Shaped by childhood abuse, this gift sapped his soul’s fire, allowing others to manipulate him through guilt and flattery without effort, yet deep within, a spark of resistance smoldered.

The battles inside Alex's mind became a war raged between his wants and needs—he was torn between the boy who had stood on the roof and the young man trying to become himself and live. The need to please and the hunger to rebel. The mask of compliance and the face of truth beneath masked his authentic self.  Like holes in the ground that looked solid, the stages of development that didn't seem to be there changed Alex's life. Each stage made it easier for his ego to hide, walls to build, and masks to wear. It was this complex architecture of self that made his story not just about survival but about the price of becoming invisible. 

Unspoken truths about his pain—truths that not even his dearest aunt Dovilė could sense in the shadows of his soul—remained hidden. No one could see them. Alex concealed himself so masterfully that at times he forgot who he truly was, lost in the theater of his own making. This masking, born from childhood abuse and the constant need to please others, brought him to the threshold—the psychological annihilation of his authentic self.

But like that night on the rooftop, when he chose to live, a new decision emerged: to continue his vanishing or to let his true voice break through. The tower clock, its yellow digits cutting through the darkness, no longer marked an end—they heralded a beginning. The only person with whom Alex could still be somewhat open—the memory of Aunt Dovilė’s tenderness—stirred the courage to live as bravely as he had once dared not to die, revealing his true heart, still smoldering beneath a thousand masks.

Alex’s heart, still smoldering beneath masks, stood at a new threshold, where choosing to live authentically demanded not just courage, but a map through his inner labyrinths. His journey, marked by childhood scars and unspoken truths, was not only a personal battle but a universal drama of human development. Jane Loevinger’s ego development theory became that map—a beacon illuminating nine stages of ascent, where each step revealed how Alex’s soul, broken yet unbroken, sought its way to itself.

Jane Loevinger’s ego development theory is a light, guiding us through the storms of personal growth. Its deeply grounded model, applied in organizations, education, and clinical psychology, is valued worldwide. In Lithuania, the theory thrives, particularly in adolescent psychology research, remaining a flexible tool despite cultural challenges, opening a deeper understanding of human development.

There are nine ego stages:

• Symbiotic Stage: The infant merges with the caregiver, unable to distinguish self from other.

• Impulsive Stage: The child acts on immediate desires, beginning to discover their identity.

• Self-Protective Stage: The child learns self-control and manipulation, seeking gain and avoiding guilt.

• Conformist Stage: The person aligns with social norms, striving to fit in.

• Self-Aware Stage: Doubts about norms arise, fostering consciousness and reflection.

• Conscientious Stage: Clear values and long-term goals drive responsibility for one’s path.

• Individualistic Stage: Recognizing differences, the person navigates ambiguity with empathy.

• Autonomous Stage: Self-reliant, embracing conflicts and valuing others’ autonomy.

• Integrated Stage: Full identity integration, wisdom through self-realization.

Alex’s journey through these stages was like climbing a living mountain, each step transforming his soul. New peaks and valleys emerged, once hidden in fog. Doubt’s clouds shrouded the summit, and psychological scars—like scratches on a broken record—hindered his climb. Yet these scratches revealed a truth: even a broken spirit can rise, not by fleeing loneliness, but by listening to a long-silenced inner voice. These stages are more than theory; they mirror the dance between chaos and balance, explaining:

• Why we feel trapped in repeating patterns;

• How childhood wounds shape adult choices;

• Where our strengths and vulnerabilities originate;

• When change becomes possible;

• What it means to grow, not just for survival, but for self-discovery.

By understanding these stages, we can not only comprehend but also hope that our stories will change—not by erasing the past, but by embracing how it has shaped us. Alex’s path through these inner stages testifies that even pain is not a standalone element of suffering, but a part of growth—quietly waiting to be recognized, understood, and integrated. The greatest gift on this journey is that you do not lose yourself: whether you are still walking or have already glimpsed enlightenment. For now, the voice of truth within Alex remains fragile, a barely audible whisper, not yet allowing him to see the distant peaks of victory shrouded in mist. His scarred soul, accustomed to hiding and living in others’ expectations, did not yet know that true self-discovery would come not through sudden revelation, but through years of relentless struggles—through the discovery of new masks, their shattering, falls, painful returns, and emotional releases that set him free.

That wraps up Part 1—stay tuned for next week’s Part 2 and Chapter 12, or dive into the full book now at https://a.co/d/28W5OVP!