Count Your Blessings

Count your blessings if you find any peace and joy at all from being with family, ever.  Because for those of us who do not, it is very painful.  Holidays illuminate this for US, and do not undo or magically heal the decades of #abuse and #betrayal.  When someone, especially a family member, watches you get the beat down and says and does nothing, the beat down goes from betrayal to slaughter. ?A part of you, so deep inside, that wants to hope and believe in #love and #family, is destroyed. Be grateful if you are fortunate enough to have not experienced or witnessed such an encounter, and recognize how completely unable you are to relate.  Thank God if you are compassionate enough to not minimize and dismiss the ache of those who are not so  blessed, by making comments like “Can’t you just put it behind you, just for this one day? How bad could it be?  You know he/she/they love you.  Nobody is perfect.” True. Maybe true.  But why, on a day that is meant to bring people together should anyone submit themselves to those who either openly diminish them or to those whom are ok with it?  If you are one who believes there is good reason to pretend it did not and does not happen, be kind and share that, only with those who share your sentiments and lack of experience.

I am blessed in many ways this holiday season, grateful for so much.  And yet- the pain ?and reality of this do not vaporize because of what the calendar indicates as a day of togetherness with those whom it is unsafe.?✂️Time changes nothing. Time doesn’t give AF.  Doing the work changes things.

  • Nobody earns or deserves abuse, verbal or physical.   People are responsible for their own behavior and words….especially true for adults, unless they are mentally unwell and unable to rectify their behavior.
  • There is no such thing as an silent and innocent bystander, with the exception of a small child.

LIES:  What was communicated through speech and behaviors by the adults in my life.  What I learned in my upbringing:

  • Love will hurt you and it will be your own fault.
  • Who I am, what I feel and say-does not matter.
  • Suck up to people if you want something from them.
  • Expect people you know and love to treat you badly.
  • If I was lovable, none of this would have happened.

What my mother failed to recognize is that I was not just “her problem”, but I was actually my own person, with my own unique wiring and spirit.  She treated me only as a problem to be dealt with.  I will spend the second half of my life unlearning this.  It is bullshit.  And I will not knowingly perpetuate it and hand over these broken pieces of myself directly to my children.  I will not.  It stops here. And for the record, what I share here–is my story, my account of my experience, how I see it and remember it.  It has nothing to do with how anyone else sees or remembers or feels about it.  If it happened to me, it is MINE to share.

Estrangement is not a choice….though, it appears to be my sister’s need/choice to perpetuate and maintain my estrangement from my foo and the father of my children–based on her triangulation with my ex-husband.  Having my mother’s unyielding support must confuse her into believing it is ok, though clearly it is unwholesome and damaging—but only to my children–and their mother.

Paper Plates–The Cheap Kind

Today is moving day and my best friend of 40 years helped me pack but is physically unable to be here now. And Sweet Greg who also joined and calmed me from my urge to enter into packing hysteria, is away on a scouting trip…So physically, I am alone for the move. And yet, emotionally, I feel un-alone.  The people who show up are always the right people– consistently, without hesitation for the small things that add up to life- random meals, rides to airports, sick children, special days, help of all sorts, doggy watching, spontaneous visits.  This is how we experience and recognize love-not formal, fancy, or rigorously scheduled and managed.  Love, like god, just is— or is not.  Love is…not forced

I acknowledge an achey-ness  that not once (even before the schemed triangulation began) did my “family” show up in small meaningful ways.  I now see that we define and do love so very differently.  To me, love does not require  contraction, in order to be together. When everyone Is welcome/encouraged to show up, as they are, when they can, love happens and it lasts and nobody is scared shitless or IN CHARGE.  When we  moved here 2.5 years ago, I allowed myself to hope that this sort of love might become possible for my family of origin.  That was foolishness, not faith.

My boys and I were blessed with a joke(that always delivers) from our last meal at my sister’s home, strained and white knuckley, we sat around her well set table at a dinner time which was heavily negotiated by me; an effort to accommodate my boys’ bedtime.  My mother bought shrimp which my sister cooked and served to perfection.  My boys and I– voracious eaters. Period.  No secret, no shame- a well-known fact. We only eat food we like, in large quantities, at times when we are hungry, until we are full.  Unreasonable—right??  So….My sister laid out one beautiful shrimp skewer for

I am just now learning this. Because of what my sister has imposed on my children and family, her efforts to erase and nullify me, I share to heal, not to vilify(mostly) though I do find her initiatives to be villainous.

each of us, leaving two on the server plate.   Before anyone had taken barely a  bite, my sister declared “I know what I am having for lunch tomorrow.”   She not only showed visible agitation—  when moments later, I reached for a second skewer for myself and my boys. She (no joke) frantically snatched at the last remaining skewer.  Laughing, I said  “I thought you were having that for lunch tomorrow”.  She said, “I cant, if I don’t have it now, somebody else will.”   My boys and I roared and replayed all the way home.  Every chance we get, (Even Sweet Greg) now will announce at the beginning of a meal “I know what I am having for lunch tomorrow.”  (Translation:  That shit is mine, back TF off).

Teachable moments.  My sons and I agree that when you invite people to eat, you prepare and offer more than enough for seconds.  And when there is only a little
left; before reaching for it; you ask who would like to share whatever it is.  That is how we do food and love–no snatching and grabbing (as my also sister did with my ex and my sons,-total smash and grab maneuver)   Anyhow, for us; we enjoy paper plates, the shitty kind, with more than enough food and love, no fretting the amounts of food and at a time that accommodates the little ones, and we don’t wait until we have time, but we  make time for each other.  And, we always have enough and are happy to share, even when we are struggling.    We don’t own each other but definitely belong to each other, by choice and by birth….in that order.

Departing this gorgeous home is bitter-sweet.  Chosen for proximity to my mother and for school zoning, the empty-nester community was not ideal for my children, and was a lil beyond my financial comfort zone.  Who needs that?  FOO never stepped foot in the house, neither to casually help nor to visit.  So, it makes sense that they are not here for this. My ex,sons,dogs and I moved cross country at breakneck speed for time-sensitive “family matters”, even while not speaking and highly unresolved.  We showed up.  We served.  We tried.  Now, it is time to move on with our lives into a community that is best for each of us–  surrounded and supported by those who want to love and be with us exactly as we are, when possible.  People who genuinely want the best for us.  Period.  I cannot help but be reminded of my mother’s last words to me when I asked her to please stop with my ex for the division it causes us as divorced people who co-parent:  “I wish you well, Maggie” as she locked the door behind me with her implicit NO.

Movers to arrive shortly for relocation to our new home, well beyond the original radius to THEM, to a neighborhood richly populated with children, with great schools, lower property taxes, and even  yard for the pooches—with a mortgage and HOA dues that leave room to breathe and maybe even the option of saving for something like a vacation with my children.

I do not deny moments in which I long for a mom or sister whom I could call for casual contact and deep connection—the opposite of what is available.  But that is not my story.  Today, 11/18 marks the ending to the chapter we might call:   “So, that happened”  and the beginning of a new chapter.  Seems like a fine occasion for some more ink.  I looooove getting tattoos at major turning points in my life.  Even this difficult chapter enriches the story that is my life.  I will not forget the hard times before I have learned and grown from them.   Doing one next right thing after another with courage and faith in God and those whom consistently and gladly show up for us, is how we do life.   We are now entering into a very wholesome and badass new and exciting chapter.  I wonder what it will be called.  Maybe “Fk yeh”—much better than the past two years of “fuck them this”.

Every Chapter Matters

To ask a person to selectively numb feelings or deny experiences is an unreasonable request.  And yet, it is the demand of nearly 50 years—as if time changes anything other than our age.  The past 2.5 years of living on the same coast with my FOO has been beyond re-traumatizing. And at some levels, I would like to forget it all but will not and cannot.  Because of miraculous and brilliant moments with my sons, best friend, and Sweet Greg, I do not wish to just erase the time.  And I do not get to pick and choose which parts of my emotional experiences I am willing to feel & remember, to learn from and to forget.  I am to be fully present and mindful of what is and what has been.  This is how I heal, expand, and evolve spiritually, through the pain– and into the woman I am meant to be.

Big Open Heart, Big Fucken Fences
Big Open Heart, Big Fucken Fences

Learning to practice detachment and healthy boundaries has been labelled by my FOO, as angry and unforgiving.  Because wouldn’t a forgiving person, just put historical and on-going abuse behind them and show up and smile for all the “real” stuff, like holidays and photos….By this measure, I suppose I am unloving and punitive.  Whatev.  I was not placed on this earth to endure and pretend or to please others at the expense of my mental health and ability to function and to care for my children.  My purpose and sense of self are, at last, greater than that—after nearly a decade of vigilant unlearning.

Last week, my older son requested of me to pleeeeease consider hosting a birthday party for him with his friends and his father.  Because of the intentionally unwholesome triangulation with my FOO, I have elected to keep my new relations with local friends and families separate from him.  But, for my son, I have agreed to co-host a party in which his father not only gains access to these children and their families, but also will host a birthday dinner (allowing welcoming him) in our new home.  I asked my son: “Do you need for me to like it or to just do it?”… to which he replied “just do it, please”.  Of course, I will.♥

I love that I have enough recovery to do this for him.  This is one of the many gifts of recovery-to do,change, and accept the things I can.  Nothing about his father or the objectionable dynamic of his, with my FOO, has or will change.  This does not mean I have forgiven or forgotten or believe his father to be a safe person for me.  My willingness to work closely with him while he comfortably and righteously diminishes me, is a reflection only of my new knowledge of how to keep my self safe and separate.  For one night only— I submit myself to proximity, to which I would otherwise object…. and in my new home.  We will make a beautiful memory for this occasion of having mom, dad, brother, and friends altogether, against all odds….because for my children, there are no limits to what I will do FOR them.

I will do anything for my children, because they count on me.  Anything!  My love for them is Love is a promise, not an emotiongreater than my whatever it is which I feel for their father.   I am looking forward to the party.  I know it will be a fun and special occasion, for so many reasons.  And I will not be fooled into thinking that we have begun our new forever.  The only thing that changes is me, as I recover and learn to navigate THIS type of dynamic and to create the much needed space, when possible.  In my recovery I may do, what would otherwise be both impossible and unthinkable.  Happy Birthday Baby—anything for you, always and forever.  I will always want to work with your father when it is safe to do so.  I believe this occasion to be safe and too sacred to compromise.  Every chapter counts, and all of the pages leading up to this are what got us here, otherwise, I would burn them.  I love you!  Together, we will seek to learn from pain, rather than to forget it.  Okay?

And in case you didn’t notice I am courageous AF.  I will always find the courage to do what is good for you and to make your dreams come true.  Unconditional love, the cycle begins here.

PS–It is now clear why I spent too many years as an accomplished blackout artist.  It was the only way, I could master the art of just not remembering.  I would not wish that on any one.  Because, what we resist persists.

Trojan Horses

So, when I visited NC 9 years ago for therapy session with mother and sister which went poorly and in which I miscarried, I, for obvious reasons, felt unable to rally for Trick or Treat neighborhood parade with my sister and her family.   I required time and space to rest and grieve the tragedy of that session, my family, and the loss of a pregnancy–while nursing and caring for my baby. (more…)

So This

Rather than entering into a difficult conversation, some people will try to silence you when they feel threatened by having to look at something that shakes their sense of power or pride.  I am not sure what this tactic is called but it is very familiar and it is this from which I walked away.  “Oh, you are saying things I don’t want said, well I will come after you personally with a machete to make sure you don’t do that again. I will assassinate your character.”  I suspect this tactic is implemented to establish fear in those who might consider dissent and to create a lack of credibility for the person bold enough to challenge.  Apparently this is common in narcissists.  As I said, I am not vested to diagnose, but I am able to read about the behaviors and see and share the likeness of this disordered thinking and the behaviors of people with whom I share blood and last names.

I will phuckyoshitup.

There is an outward claim to wanting peace, cloaking the unspoken threat that reverence is required or else.  To me, peace is not just the absence of overt war.  Peace is kindness and calmness and it does take two or how ever many are participating.  Peace is achieved in unity not demanded.

 

Below are some links to resources which have been helpful to me in this painful journey of awareness, acceptance, recovery, and healing.

http://narcissist-sociopath-awareness.com/the-in-between/

Truth to Bullshit

Highly relevant and illuminating passage from Braving the Wilderness by Brene Brown and brilliant supporting meme made with ♥ by yours truly :

THE PROLIFERATION OF BULLSHIT

Someone who lies and someone who tells the truth are playing on opposite sides, so to speak, in the same game. Each responds to the facts as he understands them, although the response of the one is guided by the authority of the truth, while the response of the other defies that authority and refuses to meet its demands.

The bullshitter ignores these demands altogether. He does not reject the authority of the truth, as the liar does, and oppose himself to it. He pays no attention to it at all. By virtue of this, bullshit is a greater enemy of the truth than lies are.

Harry G. Frankfurt, Professor Emeritus, Yale University
(From his book, On Bullshit)

One of the biggest sources of bullshit today is the proliferation of “If you’re this then you’re automatically that” and “You’re either with us or you’re against us” politics. These are emotional lines that we hear invoked by everyone from elected officials and lobbyists to movie heroes and villains on a regular basis. They’re effective political moves; however, 95 percent of the time it’s an emotional and passionate rendering of bullshit.

Normally, we used forced choice and false dichotomies during times of significant emotional stress. Our intentions may not be to manipulate, but to force the point that we’re in a situation where neutrality is dangerous. I actually agree with this point. One of my live-by quotes is from Elie Wiesel. “We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”

The problem is that these emotional pleas are often not based in facts, and they prey on our fears of not belonging or being seen as wrong or part of the problem. We need to question how the sides are defined. Are these really the only options? Is this the accurate framing for this debate or is this bullshit?

If alternatives exist outside of these forced choices (and they almost always do), then the statements are factually wrong. It’s turning an emotion-driven approach into weaponized belonging. And it always benefits the person throwing down the gauntlet and brandishing those forced, false choices.

The ability to think past either/or situations is the foundation of critical thinking, but still, it requires courage. Getting curious and asking questions happens outside our ideological bunkers. It feels easier and safer to pick a side. The argument is set up in a way that there’s only one real option. If we stay quiet we’re automatically demonized as “the other.”

The only true option is to refuse to accept the terms of the argument by challenging the framing of the debate. But make no mistake; this is opting for the wilderness. Why? Because the argument is set up to silence dissent and draw lines in the sand that squelch debate, discussion, and questions—the very processes that we know lead to effective problem solving.

Our silence, however, comes at a very high individual and collective cost. Individually, we pay with our integrity. Collectively, we pay with divisiveness, and even worse, we bypass effective problem solving. Answers that have the force of emotion behind them but are not based in fact rarely provide strategic and effective solutions to nuanced problems.

We normally don’t set up false dilemmas because we’re intentionally bullshitting; we often rely on this device when we’re working from a place of fear, acute emotion, and lack of knowledge. Unfortunately, fear, acute emotion, and lack of knowledge also provide the perfect set-up for uncivil behavior. This is why the bullshit/incivility cycle can become endless.

It’s also easier to stay civil when we’re combating lying than it is when we’re speaking truth to bullshit. When we’re bullshitting, we aren’t interested in the truth as a shared starting point. This makes arguing slippery, and it makes us more susceptible to mirroring the BS behavior, which is: The truth doesn’t matter, what I think matters.

It’s helpful to keep in mind Alberto Brandolini’s Bullshit Asymmetry Principle or what’s sometimes known as Brandolini’s law: “The amount of energy needed to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude bigger than to produce it.”

 

Narcissist Be Like

My sons and I ♥luuuuv us some Pink Panther.  It never stops being hysterically funny.  We literally roar and do that thing where we punch each other’s arms for every ridiculous thing and then we rewind and replay certain parts repeatedly. Pink Panther is clever sneaky and selfish AF and somehow seemingly innocent and totally lovable. Our favorite episode is Blue Print.  Anyway, I created this meme because it is a perfect metaphor for my attempt at a clear and direct boundary with my FOO– ME building a door (NOT a wall) out of necessity and having it removed, via my sister’s triangulation with my ex. My stipulation for spending time together was that we address serious issues, not only for ourselves, but to spare my young children from the decades worth of white knuckle tension and eggshells.

The culture in which righteously voicing sentiments of judgment, shaming, weird gifting, and awkward flattering, with laser focused dedication to squashing opportunities for atoning or amending– is not what I choose to have modeled for them.  In relocating to this side of the country, I knew and accepted the risk,mother was sick and having grandsons and daughter close by to help and to be present for a fight for life seemed spiritually right.  So, I was either a courageous and faithful badass or a serious dumbass.   (more…)

Kthanksbye

Walks Scoots away, all placid and shit.

The End. (If only…)

The Loss of an Estranged Parent

Shit shit shit…I just got third party information that my mother has been taken to the hospital.  My mother has made her decision and choices clear.  So, I suppose I will wait and see what her family sees fit to share with or ask of me.  I never did get the playbook on how to manage this sort of thing.  But I did find these brilliant words of wisdom and comfort over at ScaryMommy:  “But there is only so much abuse a person can take before they say “enough.” For me, the birth of my son was also the birth of my backbone. It was the birth of me saying “enough is enough.” Once I became firm in my decision, I started hearing people say, “But what if something happens to her, how will you feel?”

That is the million-dollar question when you end a relationship in anger. What happens if they die? Can you live with yourself? My answer to that question is yes. Yes, you can.

As you can imagine, I have been dealing with a lot of emotions in relation to her death. When a parent dies, it is earth-shattering. Just completely devastating. You are forever changed. Yet, the truth is, I mourned my mother many years ago. After years of therapy and being open about this with my friends (and non-friends who ask), I can tell you that I felt, and still feel, a million emotions in regards to the death of my mother.

Not a single one is regret.

I chose to end an abusive, toxic relationship. I chose to allow people who loved and supported me to be in my life, and those who hurt me and betrayed me, those who took advantage of me and used me as a punching bag to be let out of my life. It was liberating.

But it is also devastating. I am so sad that I didn’t talk to my mom on the phone the night before she died. I am heartbroken that she never knew my amazing boys. At 1 and 5 years old, they are the most amazing creatures I have ever been privileged to know. Mourning the absence of the mother I needed, the one I knew she wished she could have been, and the one I lost has been the hardest and most emotionally taxing thing I have ever done.

As I sit here and think about the fact that my mother and I will never reconcile, I’m okay. She was never the mother I needed. She couldn’t be. But maybe she is also finally free. Free from the demons she faced in this world. Wherever she is, I hope she is no longer hurting. Having my children has been so healing because I truly understand a mother’s love. I never knew it growing up, but loving my boys as fiercely and intensely as I do? That has been more healing than I could have ever imagined.

It is so hard to be hurt by someone who should love you. But we cannot stand idly by and allow these relationships to continue. We have to set boundaries and end contact if needed. Because sometimes the only person you can save is you. So save yourself. You are worth it.

And who knows, maybe it is just a broken arm?  Either way, the collective need for my inclusion with this bunch was outlined clearly and repeatedly.  There really is nothing I can do but wait. And pray.

 

Thanksgiving with Family-More Spooky than Halloween–More Tricky than Treaty

I realize it is only halloween and I am already thinking Thanksgiving thoughts.  Getting out into the future consistently brings me down.  And, off I go.  My boys are enjoying plans with good wholesome family friends tonight and for that I am over the moon.  For me Thanksgiving will happen in the home of my best friend.  My boys are with their father this year for Thanksgiving and it would be silly to think they will go anywhere but with my sister and mother, with whom I have NO CONTACT.  From the day we met ( my boys’ father and me) everything that was mine became ours and everything that was his remained exclusively his.  My bank accounts, benefits, house, house downpayment, personal email, credit cards, friends, everything-shifted from mine to ours–and nobody forced me, it is what I learned, how to sustain illusion of cohesion avoid banishment.   (more…)