The Healing Bell Curve

I remember what I felt when I declared my first real boundaries with the NFOO; relief.  I'd lived my life up to that point at their beck and call, conditioned to react to their actions, desires and wants and ever the doormat.  When I finally said 'enough,' it was the first time that I was able to take a significant action based on what I knew was right, regardless of their approval.

It was hard to draw that line, especially because it had been made clear to me for a very long time that my two choices were: 1. Go along with us to get along or 2. You'll be cast out.  But deep in the core of my soul I knew that it was right.  Finally listening to that internal voice of conscience - not to mention DH's external voice encouraging me to do the right thing  - was huge, and I felt very proud of my decision to limit contact and create safety within boundaries for my family and myself.

I've always been accommodating and kind.  My biggest failing in dealing with the NFOO in those early days was my natural assumption that other people are also accommodating and kind, at least to some degree.  It's funny when I look back now, how naive I was about how monumental the change I was making would be within the broken family system that the Nparents created and NSis and GCYB wholeheartedly supported.  To say that their reaction to my limiting access to my self and the DDs was violent would be an understatement.  I was proud to have finally stood up for us, and their reaction to that was to lose their damned minds.

As they attacked and attacked and attacked me, my self-pride was replaced by ever-growing fear.  Every time my phone rang it nearly sent me through the roof; my heart beat sped up, I began to hyperventilate, I stumbled in my speech, I became confused.  It occurs to me now, though it didn't then, to wonder in response to what type of people this physical reaction would be normal?

A burglar in the house.  A drunk driver on the road.  A madman with a knife.  A rapist in the darkened alley.  Yeah, all those.  And my mother, father, sister, brother and the minions.  Wow, it seems so clear in retrospect that I simply never should have had a relationship with any of these terror-inducing people.  But, at the time, it was what I knew.

So, even though I was terrified and ashamed and hurt and wounded, I was fortunate to have a couple of trusted advisers in my life who actually DID have my best interests at heart.  DH would say things like; you're doing the right thing, I'm right here with you, their actions are only proof of why we have to take these actions.  My therapist would say, "Vanci, the boundaries that you have set are NOT unreasonable, that they're choosing to violate them is proof of their dysfunction."

Somehow, no matter how confused I would become in the moment of full-on Narc Attacks, I was able to grasp the love, kindness and wisdom of the good people in my life and just hold on to those clear and reasonable boundaries I'd set.  And as the NFOO continued to step all over my limits, I began to make them clearer and tighter, until we reached the point of No Contact.

Even then, for a time, when the phone rang - even though I knew I wouldn't be answering it - I had a visceral reaction; sweaty, panicky, jumpy, scared.  When I spotted someone that I'd known from the 'old days' in a store or at a community event, I'd feel a strong urge to hide, and sometimes I did hide, or at least dial a friend on my cell phone to avoid conversation with anyone who wanted to tell me how awful they thought I'd been to my family.

It's taken a while, but I've started to realize that time has worked some miracles for me in the area of healing.  Doing the work is crucial, of course, taking initiative to be the best Vanci I can be and to never allow destructive forces like the NFOO to rule my life again is what has, metaphorically, spiritually, emotionally and physically, 'saved' me.  But, time is what I've found was necessary to remove those conditioned fear reactions.

When Uncle Minion called in April, it took me by surprise, sure.  It didn't wreck me, though.  When NM called the other day, I had a lesser fear reaction than I do when one of the DDs schools calls (my first thought is always that my daughter's been hurt, and I think that's a normal fear that all parents have.)  NM''s call and voicemail didn't even register on the Richter Scale, you know?

Today, I was at the supermarket with my youngest DD, picking up some things to make Christmas candy with and thoroughly enjoying ourselves, when an old family friend spotted me.  She had her sweet three month old granddaughter with her, so we ooh'd and aah'd over the kiddo as well as how grown up my youngest now is, and eventually the lady asked how my parents were.

Nothing happened to me, physically, and I gave the best honest answer I can, "I don't really know, we haven't actually talked in about four years."  Of course, this registered on the woman's face; whether it was shock or joy at scandalous information, I don't know and I don't care.  It doesn't matter.  If she'd pressed the matter, I'd have simply told her that as she is or was a friend of the Nparents, she should contact them if she'd like more information.  She didn't ask, I didn't feel the need to tell.  I had chocolate chips and candy canes to buy.

I started out proud and relieved.  I spent a lot of time in fear and terror.  And now?  They can't touch me, and not only can they not hurt me, but every time I have an interaction, every time I overcome another hurdle, I am a better and stronger person for it.  Today I showed my thirteen year old daughter how to handle an uncomfortable situation with dignity and honesty.

Time is a beautiful thing.

If you're embroiled in the first or middle part of the healing bell curve, stay strong and stay true; it WILL get better, eventually.  I'm so glad I was patient - there's peace at the end of the trajectory.

Love,
Vanci