The Quality of My Thoughts

When the people you are tethered to in childhood or marriage are the same ones who kick your feet out from under you, it fucks up your belief that things can ever be ok, or better. You doubt that people are who they say they are. It becomes difficult to make plans and choices and to envision a future of peace or emotional security.

When the feet kicking is sneaky and the reaction to IT, is more observable than the attack, it is damaging beyond words. This is how you make a person crazy. You undermine and sabotage their peace and then pretend you didn’t or you blame them.

After another night of disrupted and poor sleep, the quality of my thoughts is spectacularly bad. My worries for my sons over the stress imposed by the very intentional divide of our little family is immeasurable. My sons associate my sister and family of origin with being divided and separate. Their resentment for their father is growing, while their trust in him is shrinking. My older son’s inability to hide the pain, separates him from his innocence, as well as from his brother and father, who are quick to silence and judge his struggle. What a nightmare.

I feel hopeful that with a night of sleep and mental separation from the thinking of the thoughts, this will feel less heavy, or at least more manageable. Just for today. I can do hard things, one day at a time, together, with you.

Formatting Errors v. Compatibility Issues

Labelling the Formatting Issues as errors is part of an ongoing joke between Sweet Greg and me. As I said, we really do not get angry with each other and the times in which we have, we attribute to what we now recognize as “formatting errors”. For us, this means, that possibly, the person who is angry is rightfully so, because the other person said whatever they said the “wrong” way.   And if they would have communicated correctly, there would be no problem.

Greg and I are blessed with compatible operating systems. We prefer for life to be quiet and slow, not too peopley, and with minimal plans and schedules on our weekends. We enjoy down time together, separately and simultaneously while in the same place. I tend to need more space than him, maybe from damage and recovery or maybe because I was born this way. Either way, it is a fact, not a defect or a problem. Greg is not offended or challenging of my reality and the needs which make me uniquely me. He loves me unconditionally in all of my most Maggie-est of ways, not in spite of my Maggie-ness but 100% because of it, even the prickly parts. God bless that man.

The one time, in which I recall being genuinely (and irrationally, of course) angry with Greg, I mistook a compatibility issue for what was, in fact, a formatting ERROR. We were both happy and relieved to identify this thing, which for so many people, tears them apart, because they have not learned to recognize “it”.

Greg and I spend our kid-free weekends at my house. (We do not spend nights or share beds(unless on a trip)) in the presence of our children. He brings his sweet Golden Retriever, Sydney, who is always welcome. AND– like all Golden Retrievers, she shits and sheds. Greg would see me vacuuming or poo picking and ask if I wanted “help”. I would say, “No, I got it” and be resentful AF. I allowed this to continue for months until I wanted to end it with him.

See, I did not consider it “help”, for him to clean up after his own dog. I considered it his job. It was not a gracious favor, because if not for Sydney, I would not have the tufts of hair and additional poops to manage. But because he called it help, I would not allow it. Conditioned to “favors” and help, bound by fat strings and a secret price, to be extracted later, I could not accept. Insane. Truly. When I confronted him and attempted to shame him and label him irresponsible and selfish, which he is not, at all–it became clear what was happening. I was accustomed to dirty, indirect communications with weird secret emotional contracts to which I unknowingly entered, first, with my family, then in my marriage, I had no understanding of what it was like to deal with an emotionally present, generous, and direct communicator.

Sweet Greg and I enjoy high level compatibility and still experience formatting issues, which turn to laughter instead of divisive arguments. We each loathe talking by phone, needless complexity, indirect communication, we laugh at ourselves and each other, own our mistakes, apologize, and care deeply for the other’s peace and comfort. Finding food is generally our biggest challenge. There is never anything to eat…anywhere. Ever.

No Means No

This morning, over breakfast, my older son(S1) asked if Greg and I ever get mad at each other. Of course, I did not offer a short response to this. I asked if he has ever seen us disagree and he said: “yes but you guys never get mad. ” What an excellent opportunity to explain that it is possible to disagree (with trusted others) without becoming angry, being, mean or disrespectful, which is something I only learned in recovery.

This reminds me: When we were living in CA, and the boys were 4 and 5, we had a neighbor friend named Ethan. Ethan was zen, reasonable and kind, this gentle Vietnamese little Buddha of a guy. I would always offer Ethan food and more food and he would politely decline. When I kept asking, he would say so wisely: “Maggie, No means no.” And I would just love it(without knowing why). and I would repeat it and still chide him to eat more than he wanted, just so I could hear him say it again.

But see, when you grow up surrounded by people who do not listen when you say no….who pretend you did not say it or attack you for saying it, you do not learn about the boundary of NO. So, tiny little Ethan was my first model of healthy boundaries via the direct statement of “NO”. No is a complete sentence and it is not mean, or a crime.

Give it a try. You are welcome. Now, I am your life coach.

So, I reminded S1 of our friend Ethan and then went on to tell him of the only time I recall Greg ever getting angry with me, and still not being mean. We were in our first year of dating, and in the car. I thought something was funny and reached over to grab and squeeze his knee as I was laughing (something I do—grab you when I am laughing). He said calmly “Please do not squeeze my knee”. Because, this was unfamiliar behavior, I did what I knew, I reached over and squeezed it again, asking; “you mean like this?”(so assholey, but this is what I knew). And he was like; “Seriously, I do not like that. Please do not do it again, ever.” Mind blown. I kid you not, that I said these words to him: “Oh my gawd, where did you learn that? Did you fucken invent that?” I had not ever observed a person to honestly and directly say No in this way. Without heat, volume, profanity and totally serious about it. Greg is amazing at saying No to me and I am getting better at saying No appropriately and honoring it when it is said directly, to me. Directness is essential. Passive aggressive no is more damaging than aggressive aggressive no because it creates unspeakable conflict and confusion…but looks better on the surface.

I can think of little which makes me feel more loved and safe than knowing that No means No. We are each allowed to say it and mean it without being mean or being hurt. Here is an example I did not share with S1, but hope to remember and so, will share here. In our first months of getting to know each other, Greg and I were kissing and he did something with his finger along the edge of my ear.(This was before he taught me the magic of NO). I pulled away with his face between my hands and said “do not ever fucken do that tickly bullshit again, please”. He processed it with grace, zero resistance. Later, I asked him “That was a little harsh, huh?” Without judgment, he replied: “Yeh you prolly could have been a lil more gentle about it.” I asked for an example. Boundaries 101. He said: “Maybe, like, hey I do not like that.” How could it be that I could say I did not like something and a person would stop???? Is this for real? The exact opposite of my family and marriage experiences. Boundaries, Gentle Truth Speaking, Consideration, Intimacy……These are the miracles of recovery. Without the work I am doing, I would never have appreciated someone as healthy as Greg. I love when he says No to me. I love learning how to say No better and that people who are healthy will respect it, even if they do not like it. People really show you who they are when you say No to them.

Favorite and I get big kicks out of saying No, cleverly to each other. I look forward to a time when saying no to my children will be more effective. And when No really will mean no. I am a work in progress. The second part to this lesson of No, is learning to discriminate between when a person has displeased us and when a person has genuinely done harm.. Having a clear and direct boundary and Saying No are healthy— not harmful….but definitely won’t win any prizes for people pleasing. And if people require me to please them, they are not my people. That is neither my job nor intent.

Never say Never

With active substance abuse and addiction, running in all directions of our family tree, we get to have many discussions on this matter. Both my boys insist they will never try alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, because those things are gross and make no sense.

I explained that it is likely that they will be offered those things and may try them, BUT- if they like it, it may be more difficult for them to stop, than for someone without addiction and abuse in their families, and that I will be here for them. They can always come to me.

They roared as I sheepishly admitted details of my friends and I using cigarettes, pot, and alcohol. I was explicit in conveying that my hope for them is not that “they never try it”, but that if they do try it, they do so, only with people whom they trust.

There are those whom might offer them something that is not what they say it is, and that could be dangerous, even fatal. And also, trying drugs with a trusted other because you are curious might be fun, while trying something you do not want because you are afraid of what a person might say to or about you will leave you feeling bad, period.

More than anything, I want to teach them to trust their guts, trust truth, trust kindness, trust in people who have proven to be trustworthy, kind, benevolent, fierce truth tellers.

These conversations led us directly into–how it is possible and common for people to lie and mis-represent by telling only partial truths, deliberately not sharing all information necessary for accurate context. We clarified what it means to lie. It can be done by omission. Lying is deception and intentional mis-representation, not just speaking of words lacking factual accuracy. Truth speaking requires courage and faith and full disclosure, transparency.

Lying is what people resort to, when they want something not meant for them or when they are avoiding consequences that would naturally be theirs. Lying is for trying to manipulate what others think. For them to get used to or confused by the omissions, partial truths, and words that are out of line with actions– will otherwise, make them doubt themselves, rather than the people in positions of authority who are misrepresenting and creating confusion- DIS-EASE. This, I cannot have.

Our bittersweet journey through demystification continues. The ongoing loss of innocence is at least brought into balance by our illuminating conversations, offering us shared language to discuss matters which would otherwise defy articulation. I do not need for them to get straight A’s, be popular, cool, or athletic all-stars. I need for them to believe in truth, to find comfort in truth, to speak truth–for themselves and for those who cannot. My measure of parental success is weighted by their dedication to being good citizens, protectors, helpers, witnesses.

The one thing in which I hope my boys will strive to NEVER– is denying their feelings and truths or even denying the feelings and truths of others. I firmly believe in a strong link, between denial of feelings and the need to self soothe in ways which prohibit healing and growth. Grow and heal sweet boys. Please. Be healers and growers.

You Can’t Make Me and Neither Can I

You can’t make me and neither can I.” I am almost finished with Gretchen Rubin’s Four Tendencies and this line really stayed with me. ???Hard truth.  Discipline over my thinking is a daily struggle.  I think as a result of having my reality challenged, debated, and dismissed for most of my life. I became obsessed with trying to prove my truths and adamantly resistant to those who insisted on trying to dictate my reality– and ultimately also gave up on self-discipline. The only things in charge of me were the fear, shame and guilt for feeling how I felt in the company of those who disapproved mightily and collectively.

Help with my thinking is the only thing for which I pray.  Praying, for me, just means alone time dedicated to articulating my awareness of my need for help, from a power greater than myself.  My will or the will of another human is not enough to get me to do, feel, believe a thing. My program offers me the tools to navigate and to allow my thinking and instincts to become changed, one day at a time.  I will not be bullied by another person or group, or even myself, into living my best life.  Flow not force!

The grief of my mother’s passing and the family to which I was born, wreaked havoc on my body this week, leaving me with debilitating sciatica.  On the way to the accupuncturist, I passed the Cancer Treatment Center where I sat thru many treatments and drs visits with my late mother.  I also drove past the hospital where she underwent some scary surgeries and recoveries.  At the time, I was terrified, not that she would die, but of the proximity to my mother, my sister and her hubz.  And that my mother and I would resume our historical dynamic, once she was well, as we had not done the work of healing.  While she was ill, housebound, helpless, and lonely, she appreciated me, my presence. And once well enough, it seemed my only role was to submit to words and plans that openly diminished me. 

Relocating my family, to be of service, in this critical time was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done (besides knowingly marrying someone identical to those I fled).  Nobody could have forced me to or stopped me from our move, because it was the right thing to do.  I am grateful that I did.  And– it has been only slightly more painful than anything I would have dared to imagine.

Trust in Kindness

It is painful to witness my boys being expected to suffer silently or get comfortable in the presence of unkindness. Their father and I have very different principles and versions reality. Obviously. The ways in which we differ are the exact ways in which he relates to my mother and sister.

Just as I cannot discern who is telling the truth when my boys come to me in conflict with accusations, they cannot be expected to discern the “truth” between their parents . They want and deserve to believe in us both. This possibility has been snatched from them, not by divorce but by an unwholesome and damaging triangulation of my ex, my sister, and my mother.

The most I can hope and model for our sons, is to recognize genuine kindness– To learn to discriminate between friendly(social) and kind. A person can be friendly and social with one person and harsh and mean to another. Kindness is not conditional, like friendliness. It is not dependent on liking a person. Kind people just are. Some of the most well known sociopaths and criminals are reported to be friendly and charming. Both of my boys have first hand experience with charming bullies.

If a person behaves in ways that are cruel and diminishing to any other human, animal, or even the earth, they are not kind. Kind is not subjective. Kindness is unrelated to friendliness or how well you enjoy a person or situation. Kindness is a value and a practice.

Kind is not scary and does not judge or gossip. It does not require you to pretend to like, want ,or be ok with things which are not ok.

Kindness can be trusted. Because kindness, by definition, would exclude dishonesty. It is not possible to change the people to whom my sons are related and exposed. But I will break this freaking cycle of dysfunction, even if I just knock a chip of it off, that is progress. Overturning one sick myth and ritual at a time. Information is power. Faith is power. Higher power is power.

For the models of unyielding kindness and honesty in our lives, I am grateful. #blessed Because when you are not frequently exposed to kindness and gentleness, it is unfamiliar. While my children know they cannot count on me to feel happy or calm(sad truth), they can count on me to truth tell and own and work on my bullshit. 100%!! And to expose them only to Trusted Others—people who, as a rule, are kind and truthful, benevolent. In their entire lives, I have not lied to them or misrepresented in the slightest. Nor have I offered them up to any kind of non-love. They trust that they can say, do, and feel anything in my presence and it does not diminish my love for and commitment to them. Both of them. Differently but equally.

For today, I am giving up my need to be right or believed, because that is unwholesome and unreasonable and always leaves me sad. Instead, I will call out acts of kindness, courage, and truth telling. Attempting to manage people’s perceptions of the past is an insane and manipulative waste of time. Yuck. Letting that go. I miss out on the abundance of kindness in my world while I am tangled up trying to understand or prove unkindness of the past.

Reclaiming my emotional sobriety, so I will gladly accept that Day 1 chip. Thank you very much. ?

Day 15 I Can Not Be Counted On

I Can Not Be Counted On:

  • To be perfect
  • To be manipulated by fear, favoritism, or gifts
  • To agree or even feign agreement
  • To pretend that things are different from how they are
  • To act as if I like or want what I do not
  • To tolerate diminishing situations of any sort
  • To retaliate or engage in dishonest dynamics(which are non-optional)
  • To participate in gossip, flattery, or people pleasing

I Can Be Counted On:

  • To continue putting one foot in front of the other
  • To practice radical self-love and self-care
  • To make better mistakes today, than yesterday
  • To participate in difficult conversations
  • To work toward resolution
  • To speak truth and practice courageous honesty
  • To practice humility and forgiveness
  • To have courage and faith in a power greater than myself
  • To make amends when possible
  • To prioritize Kindness and Service
  • To excuse myself from things not meant for me
  • To support anything which strengthens and nourishes my children’s spirits and to object to anything which imposes on their serenity and sense of overall wellness and security
  • To break the cycle of abuse in my family
  • To be honest with my children about mental health and wellness, addiction, recovery, kindness, honesty, loyalty, and integrity
  • To laugh too loud
  • To say inappropriate things and to overshare
  • To feel deeply and to love hard
  • To listen with empathy and hold space, even when I do not understand. I may not relate to a person’s exact experience, but I will always openly relate to difficult feelings, struggle and fear. This is one of my more wholesome badass super powers.

Day 14 Character Analysis

https://www.instagram.com/p/BsjOiTTHM7C/

Nearing the end of Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead, I am taking note of the qualities in the characters that I find admirable and deplorable. Initially I could not understand why, Ellsworth Toohey, Peter Keating, and his awful mother made me sick. Their behaviors are so common and familiar that I almost mistook them for normal. Maybe they are normal, typical–but they are unwholesome posing as wholesome and good–each people pleasing, heavily reliant on sneaky, underhanded diminishing of and climbing on the backs of others. I also did not fully comprehend my immediate awe over Howard Roark, whose disinterest in conformity could be considered freakish. His fierce, unyielding truth speaking is breath-taking. A million ways he could sell out for the benefits of social and professional “success”. But his truth matters most to him and he gladly pays the price. Not for a moment, pitying himself or resenting others. He is free, as a result of his purity of intention, which is transparent and unwavering. AND that level of integrity and respect for himself and others, is what I seek for myself.

Roark’s words, actions, and beliefs remain in alignment. That badass integrity- that way of being in the world, has been defined, in spirituality, as genuine happiness. In the non-spiritual world, this is considered subversive, and just cause for abuse. His ease with himself and others seems a natural by-product of his deep knowing of what is real and important. He chooses to honestly work for what he wants, without gunning for those who oppose or obstruct him. Roark wastes no effort trying to control or to please others.

Howard Roark’s manner of living, reminds me of the Doctors’ Oath to DO NO HARM. His void of drive to please or punish others exceeds my original ideas of wholesome badassery. In these ways, I find him to be spiritually excellent and very sane. …reasonable.

I am reveling this book, as it relates to my recovery and parenting, which to be honest, are the only things I have going these days.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BsjcCyYHnP2/

Day 13 Second-Handers

Every spare moment has been dedicated to slowly devouring The Fountainhead or binge-watching Schitt’s Creek. Regarding Fountainhead, it is a loooooong read but the depth of the characters is beyond captivating. And the concepts and language around society thinking and culture is like scripture to me. I did finally get to the love/rape scene between Dominique and Roark and feel conflict about my take on it. She definitely wanted him but never said yes and seems, based on the explicit and intense nature of their connection, responded to him with resistance, because it is what she thought he wanted and also what she wanted. She also never said yes or fully surrendered to it. Wow. A lot to consider about sex, love, passion which can each be part of a rape. When it comes to this encounter, I dunno. I definitely do not agree that Ayn Rand has endorsed rape.

Wanting to understand more deeply this concept of second handers, I found this quote worthy of posting and contemplation. It relates strongly to my recovery and parenting and all that I am working against in raising wholesome, good hearted boys.

Second-Handers

Isn’t that the root of every despicable action? Not selfishness, but precisely the absence of a self. Look at them. The man who cheats and lies, but preserves a respectable front. He knows himself to be dishonest, but others think he’s honest and he derives his self-respect from that, second-hand. The man who takes credit for an achievement which is not his own. He knows himself to be mediocre, but he’s great in the eyes of others. The frustrated wretch who professes love for the inferior and clings to those less endowed, in order to establish his own superiority by comparison . . . . They’re second-handers . . . .

They have no concern for facts, ideas, work. They’re concerned only with people. They don’t ask: “Is this true?” They ask: “Is this what others think is true?” Not to judge, but to repeat. Not to do, but to give the impression of doing. Not creation, but show. Not ability, but friendship. Not merit, but pull. What would happen to the world without those who do, think, work, produce? Those are the egoists. You don’t think through another’s brain and you don’t work through another’s hands. When you suspend your faculty of independent judgment, you suspend consciousness. To stop consciousness is to stop life. Second-handers have no sense of reality. Their reality is not within them, but somewhere in that space which divides one human body from another. Not an entity, but a relation—anchored to nothing. That’s the emptiness I couldn’t understand in people. That’s what stopped me whenever I faced a committee. Men without an ego. Opinion without a rational process. Motion without brakes or motor. Power without responsibility. The second-hander acts, but the source of his actions is scattered in every other living person. It’s everywhere and nowhere and you can’t reason with him. He’s not open to reason.

Back to the book. Only a few hundred more pages…before I set off to re-read. Hopefully, before finishing the book, I will be able to discern the reason for the title. Fountainhead????

Day 8 Reflection

Ok, not writing at all, about IT is unreasonable and unhealthy. I am tweaking my resolution to add an allowance for myself, to contemplate and write once a week on the things from which I am recovering. To deny that, is unreasonable. It is not all or nothing…that is the sick thinking I was raised on. It is not THIS or THAT.

Healthy, expansive thinking is a matter of BOTH AND. So, while I will intentionally dedicate more thought and energy in other directions, I will also allow myself the outlet for the ongoing effects of my broken family and the brokenness that is being forced on my sons. I am offered daily reminders of that sickness, with each interaction with my ex. I watch helplessly, as my sons have their most basic need for strong unshakable sense of connection & belonging with each of their parents, systematically and righteously undermined. THAT behavior will never be ok, but I am beginning to make sense of IT, and this allows me to recognize healthy options. What is happening, is not OK or normal. BUT, I have tools to help me respond to what I cannot change.

What remains disorienting, when dealing with a disordered personality- Things go their way, and they may randomly behave with kindness and generosity. Things don’t go their way and they swiftly become shaming, cruel, and punitive. You can never know. who or what you are getting.

When you are small and being shaped by this dynamic, it is natural to assume that you cause the changes in behavior/mood. In fact, you are told that you are. In some moments, you will be regarded as drastically more favorable, yet have no clue as to why. You will lose sleep and many hours of your life, trying to discern how to be only the person who dodges cruelty and earns kindness. I am keenly aware of what continues to remain the same. The only things changing—-are the ever-changing moods and– my responses to those. One day at a time. ⏳