We change when we choose the temporary pain of something different over the unrelenting pain of staying the same.

Why I Did IT

Why I Did IT

Why did I marry a man who made me feel unsafe, unlovable, unworthy of comfort or acknowledgment?  Because it was the kind of love I was raised on. The kind I knew.

I did not love the way he spoke to me, his looks, vibe, clothes, his chest or back hair, his white sneakers with jeans.  Mostly, the way I felt in his presence. And also: He was untraveled, unread, not college educated. He made less than me.  He lived in the back of a machine shop.  He was not eager to pay for our meals out or to engage in any conversation initiated by me. He openly did not like my dog.  His best friend was a clownish, kind hearted addict who had done time in prison, and who overwhelmed me.  His sisters (the two he worshipped) were cold and demeaning.

When I met him, I was thin and fit, playing beach volleyball every weekend and on all weeknights possible.  I owned my home.  Had good friends, work life, book club and a part time job at Starbucks just for fun.  After our first year together, I quit both jobs and volleyball because the constant fighting and crying left me unable to function.  I found temp work and slowly parted from friends because I was too mortified to be honest about my situation.

In our marriage, he took off professionally and began to make friends and more money. His life and ego grew while mine shrunk- day by day.

I did not legitimately desire marriage to him anymore than I wanted the divorce.  I just wanted everything to hurt less.  When he promised to never change, I filed for divorce.  I cried and apologized as I reported that my friend’s cousin would serve him papers the following day.  I told him we each deserve peace and that in the end maybe the divorce paper would not make us any more divorced than the marriage certificate had made us married.

After decades of weekend binge drinking, I stopped drinking altogether when we got “together”, because I realized that I was a blackout drinker and in my blackouts, I would say all of the things which I worked hard to not admit or say (like “I hate you and I feel crazy and sad beyond words, more so when I speak to you and spend time with you and am terrified that you will find out and then leave me”)….and then not remember saying the things.  I knew I felt like shit when I was with him.  I knew he thought more of himself than me and I tried mightily to agree with him so we could be on the same page.  It was all familiar. 

He was different though, from others I had dated, quieter, less fun and funny and emotional (I thought this was maybe the maturity which had been missing, but— it was emotional vacancy).  I hated everything about him except that he appeared to always keep it together (while I have always been emotionally sloppy af)—oh that must be the maturity thing.  I now recognize the neatly contained rage which I mistook for something other.  I also thought it might legitimize me within my family to have married someone morally and emotionally similar…..to them.  And because I was still immature and broken myself, I did not know what maturity was (I had not witnessed it nor had it modelled for me) and his presentation, to me looked like calm and mature. 

We agreed on one thing only “He was an asshole because I was crazy and a bitch”.  If only I could correct that about myself, we would be golden. I knowingly enterered into a loveless marriage because I hated myself, only slightly more than I hated him.

I do not suggest for one second I was a champ. I own that I clearly was a train wreck, because no sane healthy, mature person with an ounce of self love would have chosen as I did.

Nate Posthlewait Photo Text: Those who have harmed you...

The Non-Redeemable

As I watch and try to untangle and make sense of what is happening, I see how those who need to feel admired will frequently and relentlessly cast a person who fails to perform admiration, as being non-redeemable. Again and again, I see it. The person with the injured ego reponds with a campaign to dehumanize that person or group, apparently making it permissible to harm them–moral exclusion. The cycles and legacies of THIS trauma and mental abuse are haunting and I proudly disrupt THEM. My boys’ father is dedicated to doing to our son, as was done to two of his sisters and also me. I will not allow my boy to be reduced in this way, though. That is the difference. That is where the cycle has been broken. My son has a solid ally(several actually), people who support him and believe him and are deply interested when he expresses pain. Neither his aunts nor I had that. He will fare better, for this, and his children will (in the future, obvi), as well. His dad can feel right and mighty all he wants AND, if hurting our son in these traditional / learned ways feels right, deniable or dismissible by him, my son has enough self awareness and self esteem to know he does not earn, deserve, or imagine the pain of that…and also the option to keep a safe distance.

His father is increasingly frustrated by his inability to force our son to engage in chit chat or to pretend or just return. Having his own repeated efforts to bypass acknowledgement of the harm he did, knowingly and repeatedly, for months— denied, is causing observable resentment and frustration. I hate the situation, but I cannot help but celebrate the breaking of THIS cycle. Unfortunately, I am unable to spare our younger son who is being groomed as an ally and supporter for his father(over his brother- see the pattern?), desperate as ever to create the illusion of happiness and connection, all the while causing the exact opposite. It is no wonder he and my female sibling relate strongly—frustrated by those who love themselves more than they admire THEM and boldly dare to say NO.

What a fn mess. I do marvel, watching our older son say No, without volume or profanity or any level of reactivity. What a lil man. He has attempted to have a healing converstation which his father has refused, repeatedly, instead offering/ trying to demand our son return without assurance of something different and better. Literally de ja vu. I asked for an open conversation about what we could do to resolve issues, and it was regarded as a call to war. Threats and attacks on my lil family promptly followed and continued. I honestly cannot imagine what my sister had to say to cast me as so completely non-redeemable. I may never know.

Team Colors in full swing in our little mess of a family. Those who can do no wrong–and the rest of us.

Do you want to break a generational curse? Give your kids to ride to tell you on something you’re doing is hurting them, without being defensive or dismissive.

Get Well Soon—PLEASE

To the people who were older and on whom I relied to teach me about love, trust, and connection:

The messaging that your encampment in your ways was more important than me, wounded me, deeply and from my earliest recollections, left me thinking it made sense to marry a person who would also leave me feeling all of these ways:

Invalid – Overwhelmed – Panicked – Sidelined  –  Benched  –  Discarded  –  Dismissed   –  Denied  –  Anguished  –  Alienated  –  Banished  –  Persecuted  –  Shamed  –  Abandoned  –  Unworthy  –  Alone  –  Non-essential  –  Unprotected   –  Unwelcome  –  Unacceptable  –  Excluded   –  Unchosen  –  Despair  –  Hopeless  –  Powerless   –  Unwanted  –  Outside – Marginalized  –  Insignificant   –  Humiliated  – Existential Dread – Ashamed  –  Cursed  –  Broken  –  Unlovable   –  Less than  –  Confused  –  Disconnected  –  Raging  –  Afraid  –  Misunderstood  –  Violated – Undesirable  –  Worthless  –  Stunned  –  Disoriented   –  Paralyzed   –  Trapped  –  Inadequate   –  Bizarre  –  Anxious  –  Desperate  –  Lost  –  Separate  –  Naked  –  Ugly  –  Bad  –  Erased

And, I do believe that you achieved exactly what you intended. I think you thought I “made you sick”. But in fact, you were already sick. And I too was deeply affected, by the sickness, only my reaction to those practices differed. And that meant trouble for me.

My boys’ father, committed to doing only as he has known, LITERALLY may as welll hand our sons each a gun, a beer bottle, and some drugs and direct them: “There, now–Go self soothe, like me, and those who have gone before us. This is how we do it. Get on board or fuck off. The price for making waves is higher than you might be able to withstand.” This brand of sickness, the family practices of addiction and mental unwellness fight hard to rule.

My wish: For everyone to seek help and healing and stop infecting others with this soul-killing curse. Break the cycle. Starting RFN.

I observe in anguish, my boys’ father now behaving in exactly the same way to our son (as he did to me, and as his father did to his children, and also as my mother and sister to me), who is now unwilling to live with, speak to or visit with him.  Fuck this cycle!!! Punishing and diminishing children who fail to please, satisfy, and revere you is tyranny, not discipline. Allow children (and people) the freedom and dignity to experience life as they will. Stop trynuh be god and king.

Nobody in my home shall be forced to show up to be made to feel any of these ways.  

60 Year Old Bearded Alcoholic Girlfriend

From our first email(we met online),phone call, and meeting and all of the days that followed, I felt on edge and scared. And that was familiar. Anxiety had been my singular experience with those who “loved” me. I KNEW I would marry him. Not out of love or attraction, but for the shocking familiarity. It felt like home. Nobody else had ever made me feel EXACTLY as I had with my family.

It was immediately clear that not only did I not come first, or even second, I literally did not count. Any attempt by me, to express a need, desire, feeling was met with coldness, if even acknowledged.

Sweet Greg has alllllways actively sought to know what I need. Favorite just tells me what I need– Where my family and the person I married just didn’t consider (and openly resented being asked to recognize) what I needed. Until my reaction to that, inconvenienced them. As far as they were concerned, the only thing I needed– was to be different and take up less space.

The grief of that lived experience of 40+ years seems infinite. I worry that it will forever be my preference– to be disconnected and checked out. That is when I feel the safest and most peaceful–guaranteed freedom from tension and the fear of being not enough or being too much. It does help though knowing with certainty, that I am loved uncondtionally and am needed by my people. But the gravity of my responsibility to honor, be available for, and to return that love is overwhelming. I am tired from overwhelm. And my natural response is to seperate myself entirely.

I would be lonely af without my children, Favorite, and Sweet Greg. And I am incapable of enjoying extended periods of time in close proximity to them, without feeling oversaturated from basic contact, lasting more than like an hour.

Was I born, already short circuited, – how much of this is a result of having been ignored, denied, persecuted by the people in charge of protecting and looking after me? My historical tendency to go barreling toward any relationship which promised more of the same, makes perfect sense.

It is excruciating and humiliating to be non-chosen by your mother family. The curse continues – AND my older son is forced to manage the agony of being openly non-chosen by his father for his failure to be or act pleased by things which overwhelm him. At least, though, he is possesses the language to name and share– with both me and a professional, how his father alienates, betrays, uses, and triangulates against him, with his brother, and now the 60 year old woman who allures their father with her assurances of what she and her assets can do for him/them. Gross.

Their father had a sit down with them to say, in these words: “This is not just a fling. She can take us places”. Ew! Still looking for that free ride. My older son said to me: “Whatever, I will take myself places–you should try it” hahahahaha. He recognizes the pattern of his father attaching himself(like a barnacle) to any person who may be useful to him- His older sisters, me, my sibling, and now the 60 year old bearded woman who is rarely without a drink in her hand, who shows no regard for my children, only a desire to impress and force herself upon them. No inclination to allow a connection to develop naturally over time. She has been in their faces non stop, from her second date with their dad, which included them. I think they are approaching 3 months, now, so good chance that their representatives may have a slip and shit will get real. And also who tf uses the word “fling” with children or anyone at all. I think the 80s just called and they want their word back.

I am deeply disturbed today and gladly taking their inventories. Perhaps physical activity, fresh air, and some cleaning will help. I have fantasized that the boys’ father might end up with a woman who possessed even a little empathy and awareness outside of her own agenda. This woman, with the blessing of the person to whom I was married, demands sustained engagement with our boys and then enjoys judging my older son’s discomfort (understanding only what she can after 14 seconds of knowing him- 15, awkward, introverted and fifteen!!!), and elects to fan the flames of rage which her new boyfriend has for me, in front on our children. They each and both are a fn situation. I hate it. I am powerless over it. I am childish for many of the things I say here, today. While immature, it is all still true and sucks balls. Randy Dean Ross Long Beach Monroe NC

Narcissists- No Accountability- Maria Consiglio Photo Text- Catherine G Whitney

Maybe I Am

I see now how my ability to develop or pursue creativity or ambition of any sort, was stunted. I became crazed by my need for vigilance, and wasted from the futility of my uninformed efforts to prevent, predict, understand, cope: “what tf just happened and why?”. I felt equally panicked about what was to come. There was not space or support for me to learn how to live. I missed out on what was happpening in the moment because I was spinning from a previous interaction and fearful of the next. I missed out on learning opportunities for so many of the things you just come to know, from being in the world with role models and guided by even one mentally healthy person. I am now, still, recovering from that struggle and am hopeful that I may some day, derive a more purposeful, joyful, creative life. It is as if my identity and ability to hope and dream were erased replaced by the constant panic of being.

My boys’ father recently shared with them how he would like to attend a therapy session with me, just -so the therapist can agree with him verify that I am crazy. Like what sort of individual suggests therapy for that purpose? Why would a person pretend to want therapeutic counselling for anything other than for each party to gain wisdom into what (s)he may do better or differently in order to bring healing, growth, peace and trust to the relationship. And who would not be crazed by being forced to deal with and navigate a person who maneuvers in this way?

There is a continued lack of interest in self reflection, along side his only value- to be right, and to have everyone agree —at all costs. Literally, all! My boys are like “But mom maybe if you do go, the therapist will see through him and things can start to be better. Can you please give it a chance?” My answer is no. I officially know better than to offer time, energy, money(all in short supply) to engaging with someone dedicated only to their rightness. I would surely end up hysterical and rocking in the corner…and to him –his point would be made. See? She is like that.

True, I am easily overwhelmed by over-head and bright lighting, most sounds, smells, or touches and am therefore more prone to quickly feeling unravelled by things which feel like additional threats to my ok-ness- in a world which is, for me, beyond overstimulating. And– even if I am— the worst kind of insane, it does not at all, exhonnerate another from their dishonest and degrading tactics. Both the boys’ father and my female sibling hold tight to the notion that IF they can convince my children and others, of my wrongness (not of any act in particular–just of who I am), then they have effectively established themselves as right, good, correct, better. Like, what… so then they get a pass on morality and are excused from examination of their behaviors and contributions??

TRUTH: I have been deeply wounded and I do have large reactions. Not a secret or a source of shame. And, I am an open book, transparent and direct and my boys are learning to trust what they see and experience, first hand. Rather than the narratives about me, which have been offered. I remind them: Please don’t worry about believing EITHER me OR him. Just practice believing what you know, experience, and observe. Patterns don’t lie. You know what you see and what you hear. And you know the value of kindness, honesty, and honor. Only doubt those who prefer for you to doubt yourselves.

I cannot help but ask though—what kind of sick fk requests to go to a counsellor with the intent to make the other fall apart— as proof. I 100% promise, if a person cooly misrepresents, with both confidence and authority, to me and about me, and I cannot exit the situation, I will lose my shit. But what does this prove? My fragility is not evidence of their strength.

Apparently my boys’ father now has a girlfriend of 2 months who gladly fans the flames for him, just as my sister did. God help my sons. In my 6+ years with Sweet Greg, my boys have not heard him speak ill of their dad, same with Favorite. So while I do many things incorrectly or poorly, I have gotten this right. I will continue placing them only in the presence of people, who pull and work for healing and peace.

In a zero sum game, there is one wrong person and one right person. So, I suppose, in this way, that if you prove another’s wrongness, you by default, have proven and established your rightness. Really tho? Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Catherine G Whitney

Jeff Brown Photo Text

Perfection v. Self Reflection

There are folks (those who are perfect and infallible- the blamers, accusers, hustlers, takers, the entitled, and delusional) unable to to say or think any of the following:

I made a mistake

I blew it

I was wrong, out of line

I was over reacting

I did not know–I was confused, scared, panicked, frustrated, feeling insecure

I misunderstood

I did not have all the information

I regret that I said/did that

What I said/did was hurtful

I do not know

I was unfair

I was unreasonable

I want to change and do better

I want to fix the damage and pain of my choices

I don’t want to always be right if it means you have to be wrong

There are things about myself I need help with and would like to change

My behavior was childish

My reaction was uninformed and dishonest

I need help with my destructive patterns

I do not want to continue in the way that I have

What do I need to do to make things right J

I would like to to get it right more than I need to be right.

Any 12 Step meeting can help, help to reparent and heal you, help with spiritual recovery, spiritual retrieval. On-line and in person. Meetings are anonymous. They help all– who are genuinely seeking change, transformation, healing.ilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Catherine Ghoneim Maggie Ghoneim

Dear Narcissist....From Everyone YOu Hurt

The House Rules

I am never wrong, out of line, erring in judgment, lacking in kindness, patience, grace. It is ill advised to suggest otherwise. Nor am I responsible for my own difficulties or the pain of others.  And therefore, I am not sorry. I am always the hero OR the victim. I must sense that you are impressed by me, threatened even, also charmed by me, and seeking my constant approval- desperate to avert my discontent. You will smile warmly, appear contented and unaffected in my presence. OR Else.

You shall not recall or speak of my less favorable words and choices, OR else. You will be intentional to make me look and feel good, OR else. You will not trouble me with specific needs or feelings, which are inconvenient. You are either with (in complete blind agreement and support of) me or against me. If you challenge me or even appear to hint at getting in the way of what I desire DESERVE, you will suffer.

You know the rules. Beware. I will not hesitate to come for you. I will make you pay. And then justify or deny it. Your choices either make me look good or bad.  It is all about me. You– may be you, when it serves me. You will need for me to feel good, if you wish to feel safe. I will be in charge of who connects and who is separate. But… it’s your choice. I will gift and flatter you when my brain chemistry is on an upswing and criticize and shun you when It drops. You will never understand what it is you have done to earn or lose my favor. Making you responsible for my erratic moods and behavior– is the only way I can manage the pain and disappointment— of who/how I am. Your usefulness to me is your only real assurance hope for non-abuse. Again, it is up to you.

Sound familiar? Get to a meeting. Any 12 Step meeting will do. You will find help, hope, connection, truth.

Fuuuuuuuuuck

So, the boys’ father is especially manic now that he has found a woman to claim a WE with. Whatever. On my boys’ weekends with their father, I have learned, he packs a fuckin bag and drives 25- 30 minutes to spend the night with this woman of a few weeks, who has no children in her home, leaving our young sons alone for the entire night, with nobody close by, like even a loosely familiar neighbor. Neither of the boys are even yet old enough to drive. And without any notification to me so that I could be on standby.

Before finding the wisdom of recovery: I would have name called him and told him what to do, with volume and profanity. Now with 10 years under my belt, these are text messages I have crafted in my head and NOT sent. See, in my life before recovery, poised people could do harmful shit and my overtly pained and disturbing reaction was all anybody would consider…. Magda’s troublesome reaction(the collective disregard of my pain, exacerbating my unhinged-ness)–like the only probelm was my unsuitable response to abuse. For now, I have said nothing at all, and am waiting for the words which will leave me with the most peace and dignity.

Things that without recovery, I would have said, repeatedly: You impossibly selfish, stupid loser. What is wrong with you? I don’t know who is more disgusting, you as their father or her as a mother, with children of her own. You are fkn sickening and will stop at nothing to get, do, have what you want. Your obssession and attachment to your entitlement are deranged. Get some fkn help. Oh and go fuck yourself. Good luck trying to take her money and shit too. She deserves you.

Things I will communicate, once I have the wording juuuuuusssst right. (Recovery teaches me to say things in ways that do not compromise me and also to have no expectation of changed behavior. For 40 years I believed(because therapy told me so) that if I used the exact right words, and tone, and timing, that I would be heard and things would change or improve. This is, 100% untrue. Narc addict gonna do only as they like and try to flip a sane request made upon them into a war.)

If you and that equally selfish skank On nights when you intend to leave the boys alone overnight, please just drop them off here.  It is in our divorce decree that this is the ruling for when either of us are are unable to care for them on our custodial weeks, I think it is called right of first refusal.”

The best part is— that I already know from too many previous attempts to protect my children…that he will respond as if this is an attack– by coming after me guns blazing, saying any cruel thing he can think to say about me. Then he will spin the story so that he is the victim and try to gain pity and alliance from anyone who might listen. He will probably wish to consult my sister for her alliance and agreement and construct a message intended to cause me anguish. She would enjoy soothing and guiding him. Catherine G Whitney sister Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Fayetteville

In confronting him, I know he will come down on our boys for expressing their concern to me, and accuse them of “snitching” or betraying “privacy”. I cannot stop his choice to neglect, divide, silence, and manipulate our sons(and me), and I also will not stand by and say nothing.

Narcissistic Bullying

As I continually have opportunities to PRACTICE detachment, using my recovery tools and skills, it feels only right to share tips (just the tip-hahaha) for safely negotiating narcissitic bullying, when removing myself entirely, is not an option.

So, narcissistic bullying is evidenced by a person, who, when displeased or frustrated, rather than self reflecting and adjusting themselves, opts for retalliation and dominance. They may send their target (scapegoat) a subtle, barely discernible warning shot communicating: “I can and will make trouble for you (in nearly imperceptible fashion)”- or they may just get right to it…depends on who is looking and seeing.

This type of person failed to learn to accept that frustration, failure, and displeasure are part of the human experience and may be learned from and handled with grace & acceptance. And so- they default to blaming, shaming, undermining, campaigning for their rightness and entitlement to be pleased or serve up a consequence of their choosing.

When does (even the most subtle) blaming, shaming, judging, and persecuting- result in a wholesome outcome, though?

I am tired from this. Trying to arm my sons with the ability to recognize and respond safely in this dynamic. It is everywhere. King(and Queen) Babies (google king baby and addiction) never stop angling for dominance and approval at all costs….armed with a wealth of cunning and ruthless tactics to curate what others think and feel. Catherine G Whitney

Today’s tip for responding to narcisstic bullying: While it may feel impossible: Engage minimally, stick only to the facts (like hard undeniable data) with as few words as possible. And ignore attacky words and suggestions of your “issues” baiting you to defend or doubt yourself. By ignore, I mean; do not acknowledge in any way- but – feel free to flip out in your head or later with a trusted other, when possible. Narc bullies thrive on the energy in these conflicts. It is called narcissistic supply. (Google it) Do not give them the thing they crave and expect-your energy, emotion, defense, lengthy justification. This is called Gray Rock-Google it. Pure wizardry. You know how poeple say, “You are givng them all of your power.” This is what they are talking about—We must choose to disengage. It is no easy feat. BUT. Try it! Share it, with anyone you know, struggling in this insane dynamic- tangled up with a person who needs to see themselves as infallible and elevated! Let’s keep dropping keys. Together. One Day at a Time.

Pathological Shaming

As a child, everything, for me, became a source of shame, because nothing about our family,home,lives was normal or normalized. It was directly communicated that if no one is feeling it or talking about a thing, that is because it is only me, who percieves it.  And I am therefore wrong….wrong at a cellular level for thinking or openly communicating about an experience or feeling which noone else would share or acknowledge. I could find no comfort or relief from this dynamic. Gaslighting, from my earliest days.

Literally anything which was not pleasing or relatable, to people in my family of origin, was pathologized.  There was the constant message, you are like us and with us or you are wrong and against us and will be treated accordingly.  And so I was.  Treated accordingly.  Because I was overwhelmed and over stimulated by just about everything. And this vexed the people in charge- who felt it my duty to be pleasing or at the very least easy to ignore- or pay the price. Catherine G Whitney

Our house pulsed with rage- with vile laughter, rage with volume and raging silence, but no peace -no quiet.  My sensitivities and differing needs set me on the outside from the get go.  Collectively rejected. I became the target for my family’s anger and dis-EASE. I was shamed for my emotions, my hunger, my inability to tolerate many sounds, smells, textures, my inconvenient need for a restroom, nap or an extra blanket or sweater.  It was tolerated and normalized for others to say about me(to or in front of my mother- if she was not the one saying it), things like:  Ugh, nobody else is complaining.  She is the only one who has issues with it.  Why can’t she lighten up and quit being so difficult.  Just be easy for once?  Selfish.  Always trying to get attention. What a pain in the ass. This was regularly said to me and about me, within earshot.

I wanted to matter, not be ignored or fixated on, just allowed to be who and how I was.  I cannot help but cry for lil Magda.  Always in the dog house for differing, struggling, and needing, incorrectly-  coming undone and trynuh to crack the code for how to become or appear ok, worthy, connected. I am not sure what anyone thought or hoped to accomplish by curating my life experience in this way.

I think I was supposed to hate and distrust myself enough that I might fall in line- listening only to the words of the people who could punish and alienate me.  But also not hate myself so much that it caused disturbance.  Unsurprisingly, I did learn hate and distrust—-of myself, them, and others.  

I continue to agonize over one of my sons being “handled” in a similar way by his similar father who enjoys wrangling our other son into agreement over the wrongness of his brother.  Choosing pathologizing language and expressing collective displeasure.  He is not even a collective with anyone but his other son.  I am fn sick of people being divisive and diminishing and feeling right about doing so. I literally do not know how much more I can stand. Ugh.

This rant was prompted by this Hafiz quote about being a cage builder or a key dropper. I like to believe that my sharing here, is dropping keys for those who have not yet found recovery or words to help them unlock their cages. Finding the langauge to name my experience gives me power of understanding and meaning and best of all, healing and connection. I will continue sharing. Oh- and one more thing- Fk the shaming, pathologizing, cage builders.