My First Bullies

Who in your life held you in unconditional high regard and rooted for you, ride or die 24-7-365?

Who in your life consistently instilled messages of doubt, fear, shame, guilt, defectiveness? Chances are that those very people made damn sure to amplify that message at every opportunity, to share with anyone who would listen. The person/people who did so to me, needed for me to be bad and wrong so they could feel right about how they treated me and for enlisting others to support their smear campaign. AND to help them curate affirm their identities as the perpetual victim, the martryr, the hero.

Having the primary women in my life bully me, collectively, particularly when I struggled in ways they could not relate to or manage, was devastating. Allowing and expecting my proximity only when I happened to please them, banishing and condemning me the rest of the time. Never ever to be counted on as trusted allies to me. Conditional af –soul-crushing and heart breaking. Not loving. Not kind. Not Safe. Always needing to punish/shame or rescue. Who even benefits from that….ohhhhh- naricissists do.

As I review these patterns and try to make sense, I am finding undeniable connection between the bully, coward, persecutor and the “rescuer”. It is one persona, seeking control, pity or admiration— at any cost.

It is a freaking miracle that I have been able to learn to recognize and address the negative effects on me and to examine toxic attitudes and behaviors which I learned, copied, developed to cope within that malignant dynamic. I have so many things which I have said and done which make me cringe, too many to count. Fortunately, 99% of them are more than 15 years behind me. Cliche as it is…hurt people, hurt people. And when we know better, we do better.

I am beyond grateful for all of the unlearning and reparenting. I can see many reasons for why I behaved as I did and in my effort to understand and explain it, if only to myself, I do not think for a moment, that having a reason is the same has having an excuse. Some things can simply not be excused. Forgiven, maybe, but not excused.

Without recovery, I absolutely would have (unknowingly and naturally) abused my children, simply by doing what I had learned and experienced: each time I annoyed, inconvenienced, challenged my bullies–typically by having and expressing a feeling or need.

Are you seriously still talking about it?

I came to view punishment and shame as logical/natural consequences to being different displeasing. Great and collective effort was dedicated to reducing me to a more manageable situation. It is difficult to discern which was more demoralizing, being demeaned or ignored- like in like the Amish shunning type of way.

I cannot beleive I still get to be with Sweet Greg (nearly 7 years), who would not consider diminishing, ignoring, or abandoning me. This relationship is one of the greatest gifts and challenges of my life.  Receiving unearned unconditional kindness, love and loyalty, is unnatural and unfamiliar AND actually triggers sadness and pain. It is a reminder of the basic kindness and secure connection, I had not previously known.  So, even within the dearest of times, I struggle (with doing the unfamiliar) and am in pain.

It is not a negative attitude, not an obssession with the past or lack of gratitude. THIS is unhealed trauma. THIS is grief. I will continue doing the work to break the cycle and to heal myself. My recovery is the very most important thing I may ever truly do or model for my children. It is exhausting though and never fn ending.

Out Of My Control- In My Control

CPTSD often occurs as a result of being made to feel unsafe because of your identity.  Feeling powerless to change who and how I was, made me fearful, anxious, aggressive, which exacerbated my reality as an outsider. I was trapped within a cycle of stimulus- response and I had no support or skills for understanding and changing my responses to discomfort, need, fear (which, while smaller(easy to ignore) reactions may have curbed the need to abuse or banish me, technically would not have been an actual solution).  It was consensus that the manner in which I expressed “no, yikes, STOP, or ouch” was THE problem. As well as my inability to move tf on and pretend to be ok, pleased even.  These things about me, which seemed to cause the tension, appeared to be unique, permanent and pervasive.  Believing in my terminal defectiveness drove a whole battery of other issues.

One source describes victims of early childhood trauma “as a burden to themselves and others and a minefield many would prefer to avoid”.  I think that sums it up.

Complex trauma disorder is a psychological disorder that develops in response to prolonged repeated experience of interpersonal trauma in which the individual has little or no chance of resolution, repair, or escape. This way of being is not inborn and is not pathological– but is caused by lack of nurture- within bad relationships with people, on whom you must rely on to be caring, trustworthy, and protective.

I am working closely with a therapist to develop plans, goals, skills that are less insular than me trying to manage my reactions. With peaceful connection as a goal, I can no longer settle for minimizing the outward manifestations of my stress or pain. That failed to yield results worth continuing. Self regulation is essential, for sure, but still just a survival tactic- to limit how upset I might become from a person whom I percieve as intentionally menacing. Response management would have more than satisfied my family and the male version of my sister, whom I married.

What to say when you have reacted poorly- Sit With whit- Photo Text

dis-GRACEd

Ruminating (ok, obsessing) on the concept of grace and how I feel nearly frantic (obvi) that my boys may not learn to value grace, as a way of being. Intentionally evolving enough to choose and do (or not do) a thing because it is wholesome, kind, generous, considerate, connective…..rather than doing only the things which serve, suit or favor them. I can name only one person throughout both sides of “their” genetic families, who moves through the world with grace (and near superhuman benevolence)…and my boys have no access to her– Thanks to the handiwork of their dad and my female sibling–doing only and exactly as they like, at my sons’ immeasurable expense. That unholy alliance cost my boys their nuclear family and extended family. Catherine G Whitney Ghoneim Charlotted, NC

There have been exactly zero times when someone in my family of origin and my marriage (his family of origin) in which I observed people doing the things (they did not prefer) with grace. If and when one of them did so, it was because they felt strong armed and therefore resentful and owed….no genrosity of spirit. NONE. No grace, but managing their face so that it was arranged properly(the optic) while also mentally scheming how to extract their due.

It feels devastating to think of my boys carrying on those ways of being, particularly with each other. They deserve to learn to want and support the best for each other…to genuinley want the best— for all people. Wanting the goodness and blessings for only your self and your “people” is very non-gracey. Non-wholesome and Non-badass.

I continue working on myself.

While the choices I make are of grace, my frequent intense emotional reactions, are not- They may be explained (but not excused) by C-PTSD- hard-wired reacting to “triggers”— words, faces, tones, lies, indifference, selfishness, dismissiveness, sneakyness as an immediate dangerous threat/assault. I apologize immediately and remind them: 1- When I do THAT, that is my pain and unwellness, unhealedness. 2- It is not fair or right and they do not deserve it. 3- My inappropriate reaction is my problem and my responsibiltiy and ALSO in no way takes them off the hook for their parts.

Apologizing is natural for me. I was the family apologizer- born sorry. I was always sorry and desperately apologizing for feeling and acting in DISGRACEFUL ways, as well as for causing others to feel and act in unfortunate ways.

And now, I have one son who is leaning toward family apologizer and another who literally can find no wrong in anything he says or does. We remain painfully divided in our family of four: those who can do no wrong, and the rest of us.

Amazing Grace

I created this blog to discover(through reflection an sharing) and reclaim all of parts of myself which had been erased– or failed to develop as a result of learned distorted ideas about myself, love, connection, and God. I think frequently of grace and mercy, practices first introduced to me in recovery. How did I go for so long without knowing or being these ways? Tragically, that is exactly how.

I have a tattoo of the word mercy mixed in my slowly evolving sleeve. Mercy: compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm. I feel as though Mercy may be universally defined…so tattooing something so precious and clear felt easy. I get a fuckton of practice with an excess of opportunities to be merciful. I have contemplated the word grace for a tattoo, also. But I struggle with that one, as I do not feel that there is a universally shared definition and sadly I still sometimes give a teeeny tiny fuck about being misunderstood, by even those intent on misunderstanding me.

So, the kind of grace I have learned in recovery, is what naturally flows from behaving/ living with gratitude (the act—differing from gladness & appreciation), humility, courage, surrender. So…But for the grace of god, go I. -Grace resulting from teeth gnashing acceptance and difficult compromise- because it is wholesome to do so and also feels nearly impossible. That is THE grace, I want tatooed on my body. The grace of choosing mercy and compromise over rage, righteousness, and self service. Who would’ve thought a wretch like me might come to know grace? Amazing, I know!

I have descended from those who likely think Grace to be about poise, posture, manners, table settings. I fail in all of the ways to exhibit or care about that kind of grace. My idea of Grace: quietly offering some of your sandwich, maybe even to someone you don’t super like when it would be easy to eat it all and pretend as if you dont know they would appreciate it—My kind of grace(the kind I want tattooed on my body) is not a meal served up fancy and often with an expectation for praise and recognition. What impresses and inspires me cannot be purchased, crafted, curated, forced or feigned.

As a result of learning to practice gratitude (acts of gratitude—-paying blessings forward), humility, courage, surrender– my life is more beautiful and blessed than I could have imagined, or made with out spritual recovery. It is full with people and things which I love—but do not fully enjoy–cuz depression and trauma. But blessed beyond measure. I will keep doing the work. Forever. But why can recovery not be an event, rather than a process and daily practice foreeevvvver?

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind but now I see

Was Grace that taught my heart to fear
And Grace, my fears relieved
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed

Through many dangers, toils and snares
We have already come
T’was Grace that brought us safe thus far
And Grace will lead us home
And Grace will lead us home

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see

Was blind, but now I see

Stuff that is important to me

LoveEnjoyNeed
My sonsTattoosSafe Solitude
Sweet GregTacosKindness
Favorite(my bff)TiramisuSafe Laughter
AnimalsBooksSafe Connection
The BeachYardworkReading
Our HomeGood NeighborsSafe Disconnection
SunsetsCarbonated Flavored WaterEmotional Honesty
CaliforniaGreat SaladsTrust
RecoveryPoke BowlsHealing
CourageSushiUnity- a shared purpose
 VulnerabilityComediesFaith- my spiritual practice/program
AuthenticityEstate and Yard SalesExpansive People and Places
Unapologetic awkwardnessSalvation ArmyResolution and Repair
Accountability MemoirsBelonging 
The best revenge is none. heal. Move on and don't become like those who hurt you. Pamela short Photo Text Catherine G Whitney

In healthy, healing, loving family systems…

Ok, I have no experience within those kind of systems. My lived family experience falls well outside any of the categories of healthy, healing, loving.

How I remember my mother and my family treating me: The message, from mye arliest days, was consistent and I believe began with my mother and was readily adopted by her brother, mother and my older female sibling. It flowed through the rest of the genetic links and affiliations. “Because I regard you as lacking, it is fine to diminish, degrade, and alienate you.  I invite others to “see you as I do” so they may join or at least not judge anything but you.”

… because I think that little of you and that much of me

… because you are patently unlovable– a suboptimal human

I was robbed of any sense of self, purpose (outside of -JUST “become different already”), and peace. AND while that is undeniable. Only in a perfect world would it matter.

My observable and undenaibel unease/discomfort and sensitivity triggered the fragility of those possessed by a lethal preference for feeling in charge — responsible for only the things which make them feel elevated and revered.

I knowingly married a person eerily similar because I believed validation via proxy to a psychologically, emotionally and morally similar man could elevate my worth and potential for relating to them.

And my hope that these harmful things might not be so readily allowed to continue, drives the urgency to share about them. IN My very OWN space – I get to state the truth of what it has been like for me…. what it continues to be like, navigating and recovering from betrayals of the highest order. I do not consent to the erasure of me or my lived experience. While the details of my experience may qualify as inadmissable in my family of origin– they are admissable right here. Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Catherine G Whitney

She would never say it, but…

  • My inability to authentically love and be good and loyal to you was proof only of the work I needed to do on myself.
  • YOU deserved love, nurturing, acceptance, protection and to have your needs met.  Our neglect and alienation of you began not long after your arrival.
  • Your sensitivity is not a defect or crime, or proof of badness / unworthiness.
  • YOU deserved to be welcome and safe. But I needed for you to take up less space, and to like and want what I offered and only that. And you would not.
  • YOU deserved kindness and connection, a safe place to be, feel, grow, and explore the wonders of life.
  • I was responsible for my inability to understand and connect with you. The collective shunning was inappropriate, unkind, damaging to your spirit.  I should have bridged you to my family, not erected a wall, allowing YOU be welcomed/tolerated only with condition.
  • Our relationship was my responsibility. But it/you did not serve, entertain, or elevate me. So…
  • The relationship between you and your sister, also was compromised by me.
  • YOU did not cause me or others to be cruel, harsh, diminishing, or abusive.
  • YOU deserved to learn and be taught self-love, self-care, self-respect, and dignity.
  • YOU did not deserve to feel shame for who you were, how YOU felt, looked and what YOU needed-Of course you did not know how to effectively communicate the pain of that, to people who insured it and also were more burdened than interested.
  • Children mostly do not instinctively know how to sustain a constant state of shame, guilt, fear, insecurity, overwhelm and over stimulation— with ease and grace. 
  • Using your ex-husband to circumvent our family dysfunction to gain access to your children was wrong, more unacceptable and inhumane than anything YOU have done.  It was cowardly, selfish, dishonest, unfair, hateful, a betrayal of the highest order.  The pain and fracture that you and your boys are left with is immeasurable.  ilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney
  • I was fairly dedicated to proving to others how I was the victim of your existence, that you were wrong, bad, impossible, unlovable. Because I neeeeeded to feel non-wrong and non-defective, myself. I needed to be right. And I was failing as your mom. It felt better for you to be the fail-er than me.
  • By having people agree that you were impossible and inexplicably angry, I felt alleviated of my responsibility to connect with and support you (outside of academics, housing, medical, and orthodontia).  That is a form of gaslighting.  Undermining someone in the eyes of others to make it easier to get away with doing non-great things to them, so then ideally, only their emotional reaction gets recognized as problematic while affirming the rightness of the doer of the harm. It is sick behavior. I wished we could have broken the cycle together. You begged and we were not receptive or ready for the call. Your commitment to doing better with your boys requires more strength, courage, humility than anything done FOR or TO you. I did not so much intend to harm you as much as it was just more natural and easier than trying to know and protect you.
It is not my job to be a version of myself that puts other people at ease.

Dear Maggie

My homework from therapy was to write a letter to myself of what I would want my mother to say to me, what I would like to hear, what might help me heal and recover some ability to live life in peace or at least with less pain.

I cannot imagine my mother saying and meaning anything kinder than this.

Dear Maggie,

Truthfully, my inability to relate to you and connect with you was onerous.  It enraged me to feel helpless and controlled by something so foreign and inconvenient to me, and for which I was responsible.  The truth is I was annoyed and humiliated by your constant feelings and needs and my inability to contain, control, or eradicate them.

You were always so sensitive and needing and I disliked having my attention diverted to matters which were uninteresting to me.

My discontent with you troubled my mother and brother and diminished their interest, fondness or sense of protection for you. The difficulty of YOU— it seems your sister recognized that as advantageous–illuminating her (by comparison) as THE easy / good one and she leveraged that. I did not mind or stop her.  In all honestly, you were just too much.  Or… maybe I was not enough.  Either way, You deserved love, protection and loyalty and I surely did not effectively provide that, in fact my attitude and actions toward you blocked it. 

Rather than wishing someone from MY family might step up and be supportive and understanding of you,  I preferred their solidarity with me, in agreement that you were the problem and needed to be dealt with accordingly-as we collectively did.  You really never stood a chance.  To demonstrate love and fidelity to me, they chose me…over you. One of US- was wrong and problematic. The shared opinion of you was useful, a cautionary tale. As the youngest of all your cousins, when you came along, it was made clear that the price of being too much– would be a life on the outside—and always in the “family” crosshairs.

It is a shame that you could not have had a different reaction experience. Truly unfortunate. Catherine G Whitney Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney

Mother

PS- Regarding our alliance with your ex-husband, while knowing what we know, it was not ideal but it served its purpose, providing us access to your sons without dealing with or considering you. And– we did enjoy being in the company of another, who felt similarly put out by you.

July 4

In my family of origin and then later my mirror image marriage, assertive direct voicing of my own need, preference, or boundary was met with either dismissal, (like as if it did not even get said) passive aggressive blow off or direct aggression, all of which were deemed (within those systems) fair and appropriate. Only my reactions to that were considered problematic.  Catherine G Whitney

With Sweet Greg, I do not worry that he will dismiss, invalidate, judge, persecute or abandon me.  And still, I don’t fully surrender the idea that maaaaaybe we are wrong for each other because of our differing political stances on human rights and our unshared outrage over gun and reproductive rights.  We do believe in: sacrificing and compromising for each other, rigorous honesty, owning, learning, and growing from missteps and misunderstandings.  BUT—Is that enough?  It should be more than enough. 

We have, in nearly 7 years(longer, I think, than my marital entanglement), not considered doing harm or alienating the other.  Even in anger, the urge to do or say a thing to injure, does not occur for us.  Behaving as an enemy is not something we would contemplate, do, or tolerate.  I am certain we could break up without feeling or behaving as nemeses. I think that is love. Right? Wanting only the best for a person even when you cannot get along. Laughing, I have asked him, on more than one occasion “Why couldn’t you be the person I got to divorce?” No energy given to attemtps to dominate, win, advance, gain, defeat…..just parting from a relationship which was not working. He and I, from the get go, unapologetically declared that marriage was of no interest- while each of our exes were eager to get another marriage.

4th of July is little more for me, than tolerating the fireworks which stress the dogs and linger for weeks before and after our actual day of indepence.  Because today is a  “special day” I am triggered and have decided to rehash the ways in which my sister established herself as my first and most dedicated enemy(intermittently also posing as a rescuer of me—v confusing –exclsuively adopting roles as persecutor or savior) and then how I married someone who felt equally entitled and motivated to reduce me, when I was uncooperative, unimpressed, displeased or displeasing.  And the two of them, unsurprisingly pursued a connection, after our devastating and lengthy divorce. I want badly to wish the best for for the father of my children– but that would be some next level shit. 

I genuinely do not want the best for people who righteously seek to oppress, harm and extract. 

Maybe I can want the best for him — once he starts freely and honestly providing basic and accurate information to me, regarding the medical, academic, and logistical matters of our children. Like just a decent co-parent…

Freedom and independence, that is what I crave— to extricate and heal myself from crippling and paralyzing bitterness. Ugh. So much work to do.

My boys and I noted, recently, how the harmful association of their dad with my female sibling, is exclusively serving and soothing only to him and my sister.  Literally Everyone (with a capital E) else lost—most of all—our children!  His abiding antics make it impossible to not wish the very worst for him: whatever it might take to stop or humble him. His allegiance remains in doing only as he always has, at all costs. Prioritzing himself, his desire to be or appear in charge, above what is life-giving and good for our sons.

My persisting unmanageable reactions to this, in front of our sons is shameful and heart breaking. My face, my tone, my over the top expression of despair is beyond unwholesome and damaging. I will not stop working on that—the containment and restraint of reaction to inflicted pain. I cannot choose how I experience pain so I must learn to manage it. For as long as I am reacting to today’s bullshit with 53 years of unhealed trauma, I am not free. There is no freedom in that… And also—the gun and repro legistlation are triggering af. The hypocrisy, the righteousness, the oppression, the violence against living, already born humans is too much for me, maybe because of all my unhealed shit. Also, Fuck Greg Abbott!