Wednesday Morning Text

R: I saw my girlfriend last night and she just learned she was exposed to Covid at work yesterday. I have already dropped O off at school I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do?

Magda:  I’m not sure. What I do know is that we cannot disrupt the scheduled MRI this Saturday. Boys should stay with you for the next five days.

Magda: When is she getting tested? If she is positive. You all need to quarantine. She should test immediately. If negative today I will also need confirmation of a negative result in five days before the boys may return here. So please plan to take him for MRI.

R: so the state is OK with him being exposed everyone at school but just not you? And it’s OK with you to take W to an MRI as long as somebody else does it?

Magda: I cannot help that our county is relaxed about masking and protocols. The Imaging center will ask questions about exposure and symptoms and decide how to proceed.

R: this is actually you doing what you want with no logical thought process.

Magda:  I think you may be describing yourself here. Leaving the boys late on school nights as you have been doing.

R:  I assume this was some ridiculous way for you not to approve of what I do with them on my time. They don’t need me catering to them every night. It’s good for them to learn to be more independent. I’m not seeking your trust or approval anymore Maggie. I haven’t been since 2000 I haven’t been since 2010.

Me to myself:   OK—-wtf is even happening?

Magda: OK. Five days with proof of a negative test for Tracey at the end before they come home. You texted me you didn’t know what to do. So now you know.  I choose to avoid unnecessary possible exposure to Covid. 

R:  As you know I meant there (I suspect he meant “their”) school. But hey keep making up random shit that suits you.

Magda:  CDC protocol is not random. You get so unhinged when I have a boundary. Still.

R:  Trying to tell me what I should be doing with them on my time is not a boundary.

R: You criticised what I was doing.

Magda:  In response to your attack on my logic, I suppose I did. My boundary is me protecting myself from possible Corona. And I literally never told you what to do outside of CDC protocol….because you asked.

R:  Keep playing the victim, Maggie.

Magda: LOL emoji.  Duuude, you always believe yourself to be the victim or the hero.  I do not feel victimized, at all.  

R: The bold is a cute touch –laughing emoji.

Magda:  Your anger is something. So Ragey at me when you are inconvenienced by your own choices and consequences. Always trying to punish, shame and blame.

R:  Again, your opinion must be the truth.

Magda: Regarding W’s MRI on Saturday medical imaging centers have mask protocol and will be fine doing the MRI unless he has tested positive, especially since he vaxxed. We don’t wear masks 24/7 around the house which is why the five days before return here. I was happy to take W to MRI. Mary Ann was joining, and Greg was taking O to the trails. None of this is my choice or my doing.

No response.  I sure hope he will take our boy for an mri rather than being too busy feeling something unpleasant- for having chosen to run out late on a school night to go 25 miles away to see a woman he barely knows, because he is frantic- and that did not work out for anyone.   HE TEXTED ME to say he did not know what to do.  I shared CDC protocol and he escalated immediately to combat status.  

This is the type of destabilizing exchange I am accustomed to with both him and my female sibling, WHEN THEY FEEL responsible for anything but their own joy.  Sadly, for my boys, this was a group text.  I need them to see the insanity.  They need to know this is insane and that it is not them.  This is what happens when you challenge or do a thing which makes a narcissist feel criticized or non-perfect.

Totally judging tho: In more than six years, Sweet Greg and I have never left our boys at night, during or past bedtime, for any reason. I did try to beg him once, to sneak over while his son was asleep and he objected and I loved him more for knowing that it was a non-sane idea/plan.

Recovery kept me on track in that exchange with his repeated attempts at diversion with straw man tactics. Non recovery leaves me aching to say unfortunate things to him. But me losing my shit or behaving badly is an example of the thing people were always trying to tell me “about gving or throwing my power away”. Now that I know better, I do better. I am not a victim. I have choices, even if they suck. My boys are the victims, as they have no good options for navigating or avoiding our tension. I bet my sister would smile fondly upon him if she could observe him fighting the same battle in the same ways. Desperate to force me to submission…. two peas in a pod, they are! CatherineGWhitney Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Fayetteville Academy

There are Some Good Things

We live in a nice, cute & safe home, which I can afford. My boys are able bodied and minded and excellent in many ways. They are creative, strong, bright, fun, and funny as hell. We enjoy the stability and love of Sweet Greg and Favorite and her family for all of the special days, crises, and best of all – for the majority of ordinary days in between. Favorite and Sweet Greg remain unshakable sources of goodness and comfort and so much laughter. We also have the good fortune of a few great neighbors. I have satisfying work in which I feel increasingly competent and valued. I receive steady income, health insurance, paid time off for vacation and illness, things I went without for 7 difficult years, while caring for small and frequently ill children by myself without court ordered support. I have a program of recovery to guide me through the easy and the hard times—as I had been neither raised nor encouraged to effectively navigate the world.

My older son will undergo a four hour MRI in 2 weeks, ideally to rule out MS. Without program wisdom and support, I would be utterly deranged over the implications and possibilities- a puddle on the floor over the fact that we (his father and I) will not support him similarly or together through whatever this may be.

Recovery teaches and reminds me to live one day at a time, to surrender what I cannot control or know. While I still struggle to accept haaaard things, I at least am now able to accept the reality of them. The practice of acceptance, not the feeling. Like, I accept that there may be something amiss in my boy’s spine, something scary. AND I still feel the fear, only I dont spin my wheels trying to change, understand, or know what I cannot. Worrying and obsessing will change nothing about the outcome. I have faith that I will do whatever needs to be done and that I will not be alone. These are my miracles. I am not hopeless, helpless, or alone –as my FOO and boys’ father insisted and wanted me to believe.

Fock, it always comes back to this. But seriously. I cannot help but marvel at initiatives to communicate, that I was wrong(in my being), invalid, discardable. The lies, the myths, the cycles, the impact of that: so much pain and anger with no place to put it or heal it– until I found the rooms and wisdom of recovery. And so, the healing continues. One day at a time I persist in the work of growing my capacity to love and be loved!

Hallllp

WIATF?

Imagine a struggling child (or really any person) whose parent, in no uncertain terms, communicates how: “Nobody can or wants to relate or even to help build a bridge to that place where you are.” Subtext: You are bad and alone. You, by your own defectiveness and doing, are on the wrong side of the gap, which seperates you from US, “the royal we”.

It is up to you, alone, to fix it, or deny and hide it, OR pay the price. But we will gladly welcome you at any time, once you have corrected your perceptions and feelings. We wish you the best, tho.

Literally, this is how it was. And this is how it is for my son. His crime: feeling too much and failing to mask it for his King Baby of a father. What kind of people actively take measures to convey the message “You are unworthy, hopeless, and alone”? The broken kind with god-complexes– robbers of trust, hope, faith, self love, dignity, self esteem.

The shit must stop. Parents and good humans build relational bridges not walls for children. Also, if you cannot be faithful allies for your young children, in this way…get some help for yourself. You ARE the PROBLEM. Just Ew. Yikes. Stop.

A continuing rant… Why expect decency from those who show repeatedly that they are fundamentally incapable of showing up to engage in basic unearned kindness, self reflection & adjustment of themselves, humility, nurturing…? Same people…always claiming to be a vicitm or a hero. I am now firmly back at Step Zero. Thank gawd, I have twelve steps to guide me out of this, once I am in enough pain to become sufficently willing.

YOur work is not to change who you are. You are not too much.

December

In the past month:   **My boys’ father met a woman, requiring him to stay out late on school nights (past 10 and even 11) leaving my boys home alone, at night to go to bed, without knowing when he might return.  He only has them every other week. This is neither necessary nor ok. ***The father has whisked them on a frantic last minute trip to the mountains for a weekend to meet her, with them all staying in the same house.(more on this in a later post). **My older son’s continuing numbness in his legs and feet required a visit with a neurologist who mentioned the possibility of Multiple Sclerosis and recommended an MRI to rule MS out. My sons’ father texted feverishly with new woman throughout the neurology visit, of which he did not report to me a single detail, even when asked directly, like not even the mention of MS which had been made in front of our son. He engaged in minimal dialog, to our son before returning him to school to finish out his day, with thoughts of possibly having MS. While he felt uncompelled to comfort or soothe our son, I bet big money that he promptly contacted everyone he knows to share the news and extract compassion and support for himself.

Regarding the introduction of the woman, after so little time, and in such an unfair way, the mountain cabin intro yielded highly predicatble results. It made my older son very uncomfortable and the ways in which his struggle manifested, led his father to call him shaming names repeatedly and over an extended period of time, followed by cold silence. In his messaging, he let our son know that our son’s discomfort IS THE problem, that he was the problem, and it is agreed by new woman and previous woman, by all of the people. What a sick mother fucker. Expecting our sons to tow the line for his new relationship, requiring them to make her feel welcome(perform comfort), like family.

After tearing our son down, his father was childish enough to say, “Well, there go my New Year’s Plans”…as if that is what matters at all- or is relevant and hinged to my sons. When a woman splits, that is on him, them, a failure by THEM to develop a sustainable and durable connection. If a woman of less than some number of years even tries to blame our sons, she is toxic and good fkn riddance. I intentionally waited 6 months before making mention of Sweet Greg. Then another two before making introductions, where we met at a park, and our boys could play and have space and then another four months before they saw one another again. It has never been the boys’ jobs to make Greg (or anyone) feel any kind of way. NEVER. We don’t intentionally manipulate people’s perceptions & feelings. And if it wasnt a good fit, we would just have continued to see each other only on kidfree weekends, for as long as it worked. I am not perfect at anything but I have allllllways put my children first, ahead of any other person, including my FOO (family of origin) and their own father. In true narcissist fashion, they rejected and punished such behavior. Thus the departure from those systems—and THEIR crucifixion of me.

Last night, there were dinner plans with the “woman of one month” and my son was panicked as the evening approached, knowing he would be persecuted and punished for literally being who and how he is. Not sanely or fairly punished like a natural consequence for rule breaking, but shamed and banished for failing to perform and to please and be pleased. He texted me early in the dinner to say “I am trying to be different and I can’t”. I felt crushed for him and was grateful to be surrounded by my people who are sympathetic and supportive of our sons. Fortunately, his aunt, who has some recovery sensed his struggle and was able to speak to and comfort him. She was one of the two sensitive truth seekers in her FOO and is familiar with the price to be paid.

THE emotional tyranny and obsession with his appearance is the legacy, the cycle, the curse of those who have gone before us. It must end.

My mother and sister similarly, I think, felt a certain kind of non-almighty-ness in the face of my observable discomforts and requests (not so unlike our son’s life experience). They were enraged by it, as if it touched on some essential beliefs about dominance and control potency and importance, about both the wielding of power and losing of power. And also somehow tied to their ideas of success and failure.

Each, overly invested in the idea of their own authority, and offended by anything and anyone posing to them, as an outside influence, like outside of their own ideas and desires.

As if they believe that their control shall universally be agreed upon and affirmed as unyielding and absolute, with no other option but to apply discipline in the firmest and most unequivocal of ways.

There was constant and collective resentment over my unwillingness to stop being so sensitive and assertive. Because our son is of similar composition and disposition (to me) I cannot help but worry. AND Favorite reminds me that he has something I did not. He has people(allies and witnesses), undeniably in his corner, me, Sweet Greg, Favorite and her family. Will it be enough, though?

Will I accept the truth of my experience or continue to break myself against it as I observe it in real time being repeated?

AND one more thing—Rather than correcting or acknowledging the damage of his words and behaviors, my sons’ father would judge only their sharing of the continued hardship and trauma imposed by him. I behave like a rabid animal at times, lose my shit completely, and have and would never consider telling or even suggesting to our boys to not tell their dad. A person’s experiences are theirs to share, explore, learn and heal from. Victim’s Children’s secrecy and silence are never part of the solution. Deep dep sigh. This is ALL so terribly familiar.

On Fidelity

I long desperately (as I do most things) for my boys to desire and believe in the best for each other (in time, I get that ages 13-15 may be difficult phases to put this into practice), for them to know and to choose fidelity and love. To me, Fidelity (and love also) is a principle and practice suggestive of: “I will not knowingly choose or even stand by for things which harm, diminish, invalidate, or pain you.” This may be rookie level understanding of loyalty and love, and perhaps this thing which I am trying to comprehend and articulate is simply the practice of being a good human-non-abusive. Like, I mean to empower and inspire my people rather than overpower and reduce them.… an all new tradition within my son’s blood lines. Witnessing and relating/living in this way, was first introduced to me, in my program of recovery. Principled living! Committing to static principles(a higher power) for guidance and direction, rather than the ever changing moods and whims of myself or others. Whoa!

This is a difficult time of year. My older son’s birthday, the holidays, and I thiiiiink the anniversary of my mother’s physical death. The division between the boys’ father and me did not begin with the betrayals in her final years, but was certainly exacerbated by initiatives of my sister and mother. It is hard not to feel like shit as I recall that and suffer the escalated tension and inability, as co-parents, to make these times the best they could be for our children. Our sons have two grandparents gone and going to their graves with their children not speaking to each other or to them. I am intent on disrupting this cycle. I expose my sons only to those, proven, over time, to be intentionally kind and loyal to those they claim to love. Also, I will continue unlearning all of the old shit and practicing all of the new. So tiring.

I hope to not live to see a day when our adult sons have turned or will easily and righteously turn on one another. Though, It feels nearly guaranteed. Nature and nurture weigh heavily against them.

In the process of writing, I realize it is not loyalty necessarily, that I am trying to get my head around. Because this elusive thing I strive to understand be, model for my children… It is not limited to only loved ones–but to living life as a genuinely good, upright citizen of humanity. Recovery(and Sweet Greg) taught me that I don’t have to like or feel pleased by a person to do right by them. Shouldn’t we each aspire to and be able to expect integrity extending to all people in our lives, where we walk our talk, speak truth and are kind? It seems like this could be considered common sense or common decency, when it is in fact not common at all. I continue with the work to mature spiritually and emotionally, quite late in life. Still, better late than never. Life on earth is v. hard. Jil an Catherine Ghoneim Whitney

NANEA HOFFMAN SWEATPANTS & COFFEE QUOTE: YOUR EXPERIENCES DO NOT NEED OT BE VALIDATED BY OTHER PEOPLE FOR THEM TO BE REAL AND TRUE.

Good Input

How have I provided good input for my children?  Who, in my child’s life is a reliable source for good input (consistently kind, considerate, trustworthy, loyal, present, protective, loving)…intentionally contributing to strong senses of trust, hope, belonging, confidence?  

When it is communicated that: what a child/person thinks/experiences/sees/needs/feels is not real or valued, this is bad input.  Continual bad input from people in positions of authority, compromises potential for development of creativity, confidence, hope, the ability to persevere and connect in healthy and sustainable ways. Communicating to a child any version of: “Not only are you incorrect about what you are seeing and feeling, you are bad for perceiving it that way AND for failing to hide it." is super fucked up.

When children learn to distrust and dislike themselves for their own perceptions and then also assume responsibility for the scary reactions by their adults, it stands to reason that they may give up on the idea that it is within their power to live a better life.

To expect or get our children to defer to us exclusively for TRUTH, may feel (for a narcissist) like a success: to have(posesss and control) children who do, feel, say, and like, only as directed—but in my experience and estimation, it is a tragedy – a nasty cycle worth breaking.

I witness the cycle begging to repeat itself with one of my sons and his father, who feels deeply offended and disrespected by anyone daring to openly differ. To a narcissist, one who does anything but smile favorably, agree, approve, admire, is an enemy– to be punished and eliminated. Because: When you are not making the narcissist feel good and important, you are (in their minds, opposing them) making them feel bad and this angers them.

The shame his father means to heap upon our son while favoring the other and creating division between brothers is familiar(literally—of the family) and vile. So grateful that my son has the option to safely share with a counsellor, Favorite, Sweet Greg, and me, the truth of his experiences.

As parents, we can be unknowing sources of bad input. Especially when we limit ourselves to doing only what we learned, know, and have always practiced, a generational curse. Foooooock, our sons have one parent who absolutley denies their own struggles, failures, hard feelings, and unwholesome contributions, while the other heads straight to the center of it- and remains there, in despair- a pathetic effort to prove the reality of the pain rather than just healing from IT and moving tf on. Yikes. Poor guys. God helpem.

We cant control other people's reactions to us, only what we make them mean.

Connection & Purpose

I was raised on reduced by the continual messaging that my sole function was to make myself pleasing to those displeased by me…. To seek approval from the disapproving: TO dedicate myself to curbing who I was, what I felt, wanted, needed, liked, disliked, feared – Performance and pretense were requirements, but only if I hoped to be accepted non-banished and non-reproached. Unworthy, unlovable, defective, punishable for being too muchy and not enoughy of certain things. Those voices of disapproval became my own voice and identity. I thought they were reflecting back to me who I actually was. And you know what….fuck that.

In order to qualify for “safety and connection” I would have had to, basically, become someone other than myself.  It made no sense and did not work out for me, at all.  I nearly died trying, first in my family of origin, then in a marriage which mimicked that original dynamic.

Decades without the ability to discern authentic & meaningful purpose and connection, wrecked me at a cellular level, leaving me lost, untethered, confused and very very angry about being denied what I craved and at some level, knew that I deserved (and which seemed impossible for me to “earn” and sustain)- assurance of a safe and nurturing place in which I might thrive and guidance from people who could be trusted and kind.

As my teen boys now seek (though unconsciously) to know “to whom do I belong” and “where will I head”, I watch and listen closely.  They observe their father and me with our diametrically opposing beliefs (and results) regarding these matters.  I feel both hopeful and pleased that they seem to be grasping that: true purpose brings true connection…  a higher purpose — greater than personal (and often uninformed and reactive) wants.  I recall with shocking clarity how my believing wrong and untrue things led me to want wrong things(things not meant for me) and do wrong(unwholesome) things.

Long Story Short: When people are not comfortable with or accepting of us, that is not our cue to be different, but to beWARE: Those are not our people. Some people will simply not like, appreciate, or understand us, in fact they may wish to harm and diminish us, as the only way they know, to manage their own discomfort. That is proof only of THEIR issue and defect. Oh, and also, fuck them.

Very ranty today after more horseshit maneuvers by someone with whom I must deal, for as long as we both shall live. While this post is not my most wholesome or badass, it is recovery at work. Because instead of telling him about himself, I pop off here, in my space, with only those who care to know what I might feel or have to say.

Mercy Wholsome Badass

Mercy

So…. One of my tattoos is the word “mercy”.

MERCY:  compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm.   

It was around age 30 when I was first able to discern those rare and random occasions(while with my FOO, and then my marriage) in which I could sense moments of non-banishment.  Not due to kindness, compassion, empathy, or even mercy. Those were simply the times in which I happened to present as useful, amusing, pleasing, pleased (rarely this) and not needing.  Most especially the latter.  Not overtly desiring or or expressive of a need for anything, which was not freely offered(or collectively appreciated) was the requirement. So basically shutting TF up, getting small, and denying my reality.  I was terrible at this.  Put out or be put out. No mercy.  No love.  No acceptance.  No safety. Only eggshells and shame…oh, and rage, of course. A fuk-ton of anger. My FOO and marital home houses literally pulsed with rage, both unspoken and screamed.

It was very fucked up and also unsustainable.

So, now that I am super in the know(lol- total newb- love rookie, actually), I absolutely love love love the practice of being merciful.  I am frequently in a state of disbelief that MERCY is even a real thing that we can learn, do,  model for our children and practice with those whom we have decided to judge as least deserving.  I had previously come to learn that they (we) were meant for punishing, withholding, and pushing to the margins.  Dismiss, ignore, invalidate, smear, withhold, destroy.  Super Hitlery and terrifying.   PSA:  Nobody’s worth can be proved or disproved.  Efforts to do either are proof of unwellness and brokenness at the deepest levels.  I am now gratefully in recovery— unlearning the things that made me believe and then behave badly.  

Anyway, on a less meta note:  I am heading out to play with Favorite and her niece for a few hours before Sweet Greg arrives.  Boys are with their dad, so perhaps also I will get the house tidied, while I contemplate mercy and try to be receptive to Sweet Greg’s unconditional love. After nearly 6 years, it can still feel unnatural, uncomfortable, and completely fkn unbelievable.

I am a work in progress.

Joy- Word Text Photo

JOYful Thanksgiving

It was happy, fun, funny, yummy, cozy. Each and all of us were both free and held. Diametrically opposed to my previous tradition of: untethered and trapped.

Anticipation leading up to “special days” is difficult for me. And I cannot help but marvel over each special day, in which I experience sustained and sustainable loving connection, peace, and JOY. I am capable. I am worthy. I did it. I do it. Together, with people who love me—one holiday at a time.

Beyond grateful.

You can bet money that I will still trip TF out in the days leading up to Christmas Eve. Even with five rock solid great ones under my belt, I lack holiday confidence and anticipation of the positive type.

Bart Simpson Meme about toxic family nightmares

Another Thanksgiving

For only the briefest of moments, I considered feigning, here, as if I felt purely serene and celebratey about today, Thanksgiving.   But why?  For whom would I be posing?  Recovery frees me from the urge to seek approval from the disapproving. If a person sits in judgement of my struggle and pain, or my sharing of it, that is not my concern. Those are the folks from whom I am unhooking and healing.

Last night, I slept poorly and in the hours intended for rest, I obsessed about difficult and scary Thanksgivings with my FOO and in my unfortunate marriage, in which certain others felt it was their duty to insure that each person have the exact holiday experience that they wanted them to have: either feeling safe and included or excluded and overlooked- a cautionary example for all to witness and heed.  

My boys and I are excited to spend THIS day with Favorite and family, where we are unconditionally welcome, wanted, included. Favorite was gracious enough, to suggest: “if you are feeling generous, feel free to invite the boys’ father”.  She gets that in my vision of our cross country move, I was most hopeful about our continued ability to work together, as co-parents, sharing responsibility and special occasions.  So, I asked the boys to find out if their had plans(with others), which I doubted.  He does not.  It was decided. I shall invite him, even sensing the likelihood of him rejecting the offer in some way which would leave me feeling degraded.

I was thrilled at the idea of my children having mom and dad again, able to celebrate and commune, at the same table (and in knowing that no matter what Favorite and family know of our story, that they would include him fully- not just “allow” but also shun him).  Because they pull for us as a family.  

After further examination of this option, with both Sweet Greg and Favorite, it was made clear for me, that A) He does not deserve it and B) this is an (emotionally and mentally) unsafe plan for me. I would surely fool myself into believing that a shared holiday celebration is evidence that the boys’ father has now decided in fact, to surrender his need to position himself as an enemy and threat to me- which opposes his consistent patterns of behavior.  I argued that while I do agree that he does not “deserve” it, my boys deserve it. And- Mercy is not earned but offered.  Favorite rebuttled with “Yes, AND–him asking you for help and you showing up to help, would be merciful but you offering access to the sacred, is something else entirely”.

I feel disconsolate(for my boys), that their dad is all alone—and also cannnot be with us for our holiday tradition, which we love and treasure. I told them they could offer themselves to him for Thanksgiving if that felt like the right thing to do. I will not lie or pretend though, that I have not had some schadenfreude thoughts of: Ha ya bastard! You tried to crush me, repeatedly—To snatch at what was not yours and NOW you are fkn left with the results of your best efforts, only yourself. And still, my truthiest truth is THAT I want us to coparent in peace, if not also some harmony, sharing the hard and necessary and also celebrations and achievements. I will always want and be open to the healing required to do that. And I have recovery to help me navigate, to be merciful and also honest about the very real responsibility to protect my space from that which knowingly threatens it.