Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Explanatory Style

In the comments of my Disinfecting a Poisoned Well post, blogger jessie asked me if I still had the lists of questions that my counselor asked me to ask and answer before, during and after conversations with my Crazymakers when I was in the long process of disentangling from the web of obligation of my NFOO.

It's been awhile now, and that period of time was so chaotic due to the stress and complications that I had to go through to come out the other side into NC that I've largely forgotten details.  New day, new tools.  I went looking, though, and found some very interesting notes and writing.  I even found the fourteen page, handwritten missive of condemnation that NSis sent to me about three months after I declared that I would not speak with NM outside of a counselor's office (which, of course, in CLASSIC Clan style, meant that I had also declared the same boundary with everyone else in the family.)  That'll be a post for another day, though.

I didn't find all of the lists - I'm not a saver for a lot of reasons, but the main one is that when I reached the point of doneness, I was well done.  Blackened, sooty and smoking.  Burnt to a crisp AND bloody as hell (a l'il bit o' Pulp Fiction for ya there, racefans.)  When I hit the point of being done with the Bad Uns, I was done baby done, and I got rid of most of the shit that reminded me of them, including the letters that I didn't ever want to read again.  Some of these I burned, page by bloody page.  It felt good, it was a ritual to mark the passing of an era, the hope of a new start.  I felt cleaner when the nasty baubles were gone.

I kept some things; pictures, mostly, of the family in falsely happier seeming times, that live in a picture box in a deep, dark closet and that I haven't even thought of in ages.  I kept the letter from NSis because I'd thought that at some point I would want to respond to it, not necessarily to her but to myself.  Who knows, maybe I still will.

What I did find of my notes, though, was my scribbled explanation of explanatory style.  This was a massively helpful tool to me in beginning to separate my thoughts from my training, so I'll outline my version of it here.  It was a bit of a revelation to me at the time, I'll admit.  Looking back on it, it seems so simple, so logical, but at the time it was an epiphany.  Which says a lot, I think, about how ever loving hard it is to break out of a destructive way of life that's been so ingrained from such an early age.  I mean, this stuff just all makes sense, right?  But I'd believed differently under the influence and pressure of the Narcs, so I needed for someone else to explain it to me.
Here's what I understand this concept to be.

Explanatory style is simply the manner in which I explain something to myself, my way of thinking about an event and understanding it.

An example of two different types of explanatory style:
DH and I buy a new car.  It's shiny.  He says to me, "Vanci, when you go to the store, make sure that you park far away from everyone else.  That way, no one will park too close and scratch the paint on the new car."  I go to the store and park a reasonable distance away from everyone else, say two parking spaces from the nearest car.  Tralalalala I do my shopping.  I come back to the car and see that my car is now surrounded by cars AND there's a dent in the door of my shiny new car.

Style 1:
I am so stupid, I can't believe that I didn't park farther away.  DH is going to be mad at me.  I shouldn't have done this, I never do anything right.  He told me to park far away, why did I think that I was far enough, I was lazy.  This is all my fault.
Style 2:
Who the hell parks that close to another person's car?  I can't believe that somebody dented my car, what an awful thing for someone else to do.  I am within the boundaries of my parking space and this person in this other car has edged up close to me and obviously dented my car.  I have a right to be compensated for this and I will take action to make sure that I am.  I will take action to protect my asset.

This particular example is about fault.  Whose fault is it that the car is dented?

I was raised to believe that I was responsible for ... well, everything.  Especially bad things.  I don't recall any specific examples of the Nparents blaming me for bad weather, but I would not have been surprised if they did.  Whatever went wrong, regardless of what it was, I was at fault.  And if a child is told something about themselves enough, they will begin to believe it.  So naturally, I believed that I was at fault.

My explanatory style, my way of interpreting and understanding the world around me, was all sorts of screwed up, you see?
The person who perpetrates a crime or an offense is always the person who is at fault, never the victim.  I know this now, but I didn't then.  I had to stop and consciously go through every single step of an incident or a thought and learn how to explain it to myself in order to stop believing that I was at fault by default.

For years I would say, "I was sexually abused as a child."  Think about the structure of that sentence for a second.  Who and what are contained in that sentence?  Me, crime, me.  Victim, abuse, victim.  Who's missing from that sentence?  Only the person responsible.  After years of re-thinking, I changed that sentence in my vocabulary.  Now, I say this: "My father sexually abused me when I was a child."  Offender, crime, victim of said offender and crime.  It's a little thing, just a few words, but it was definitely a change in identification of fault for me.  Why was I leaving the offender out in the first place?  For me, it's indicative of how I thought about myself; responsible in some way for the crime itself.  It feels better to put the person responsible for it there, in his proper place; it's more true.

So, thinking of my explanatory style, prior to a scheduled phone call or meeting with any of the N's, I would ask myself these types of questions:
What specific action am I trying to accomplish?
And I'd write it down in simple words like this; do not call me.
(I was always tempted to elaborate, to put my reasons down in writing, but I discovered that this was counterproductive as I began to realize that it didn't matter what my reasons were because they'd only twist them anyway.  Much later in the process, I learned that I didn't have to give a reason, that I had a right to ask for what I was asking for, but like I said, that was much later.)

What response am I expecting?
Again, simple words, write it down:  agreement.
(Aaaaaannnnnnnddddd, this is the point in the process where I began to learn, again, later on, to stop and rethink.  Because I eventually learned that my expectations  - of sane, normal, civil responses were the point at which I might as well throw in the towel.  But early in the process, before I truly understood that I was sticking my hand into a den of scorpions and expecting them to invite me in for high tea rather than sting me, I really did expect such things as agreement, discourse, to be listened to.)

How will I know that I have accomplished what I am expecting?
Simple words, write it down: NM will say, "Yes, I will not call you anymore."
(Two guesses how that always went, but I can guarantee you that you'll only need one.)

I'd go through this process and I'd feel good about going into a conversation; grounded, centered, well prepared.

Of course, I was dealing with Narcissists, so the conversation almost always took a turn for a bad neighborhood around the time that I had the audacity, the sheer nerve, to let the Nfamily member know that I had a boundary or an expectation.  As DH said early and often, "How long are you going to keep expecting sane responses from insane people?"  But it was a process that I had to go through in order to even see the insanity.

After the conversation, I would ask and answer things like this:

Why didn't you accomplish what you'd set out to?
Simple words, write it down: She refused and told me that she'd call me whenever she wanted to and that I had no right to tell her not to as I was her child and "mothers never give up on their children."
(See how that works?  I was wrong for asking for space, I had no right to ask for space and the end result of my asking for space was two-fold; I would be given less space and it would be known that I was making her chase me, which she would translate to anyone willing to listen as - Oh my, look at what my daughter is doing to me and look at how hard I have to work... Woe is me, woe is me.)

How did the response you received differ from what you'd expected?
Simple words, write it down: It was the complete opposite.  She made it my fault for asking.
(Because that, in my opinion is the strongest weapon in most Narc's arsenal; they make any sane or healthy thing that we ask for appear to be wrong, wrong, wrong and hurtful of them.  They turn it around on us in a heartbeat, and they have the advantage because they are, after all, the people who set us up to fail by giving us a faulty explanatory style circuit board in the first place, so we are almost hard-wired to believe that it's our fault anyway.  All they have to do is hint and we fall in line to shoulder the blame.)

What would you do differently?
Simple words, write it down: ________________.
(I'm leaving this blank because I can't stand the thought of what I would have written down here.  The reality of the question is so clear to me know, looking back.  I couldn't have done anything differently. It wouldn't have mattered.  I'm sure at the time, I wrote something like "Don't get emotionally upset."  Or, "Have a third party on the phone with me."  Or some other futile thought or tool that I hoped beyond hope at the time would have kept the conversation on the right track.  But I know now that NOTHING would have changed these conversations.)

So I'd go through the process, usually repeatedly, and I'd take my little Q and A sheets to my counselor's office and we'd go through it.  I'd expected, of course, like the well-trained little monkey I still was in some ways (and I say that as endearingly as it is possible to say,) that these questions would help me to focus the conversation, to stay on the high road, to respond rather than react.  I'd expected that my approach and actions would have any effect on the conversation whatsoever.

What I learned is that the only way to have a nice, civil conversation with a Narcissist is to not have one at all, or possibly to draw a resemblance of the N's face on a sock, slip it over my hand and have a nice, civil conversation with the sock puppet while pretending that it was NM or ENF or NSis or GCYB.  (Ok, so I didn't really do that, but I'm confident that you understand my point.)

I did, however, learn some very valuable things about ME.
I learned that I am responsible for my end of the conversation, regardless of the other person's reaction.
I learned how to identify what it is that I need and will be asking for.
I learned what my limits are and how to set them with other people.
I learned that the importance of my setting boundaries was not contingent upon others honoring them.
I learned that I would never get anywhere talking to the N's in my life using reasonable tools.

Eventually, I learned that it was pointless to have these or any other conversations with the N's in my life, and MOST importantly, I learned that the deterioration of those conversations and relationships was not my fault, even though I'd always thought it was before.

That's made the biggest difference for me.  It's only one tool, but understanding and changing my explanatory style was helpful to me in beginning to understand that 'it' wasn't always my fault by default.  And led me to wondering why I thought that in the first place.  And that led me to understanding that this was just one more area in which I'd been abused.  And that led to the imperfect, flawed person that's writing this today, but also to my freedom in understanding that I can change the way I see the world at any time, and that I don't necessarily have to understand the why of a thing in order to know that I don't want it in my life.

Love,
Vanci

34 comments:

  1. I have more things to ponder and maybe comment on regarding this post. But I'm practically jumping out of my skin to say a couple off the cuff things.

    The fucking letter missives from narcissists. What the hell is that about. This was a favorite of my mother's. as if the more words in her indictment equalled more proof when when it really was the ravings of a resentful lunatic.

    When I take someone down (which is seldom, but I do. With emotional hangovers and no small amount of drunk of the self- righteous), I do it as incisively and with as few words as possible. The 24 page letters? The yammering of someone who knows their point can't hit home.

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    1. vi,
      Yeah, my N's tended to just un-freekin-leash in these rambling blame-fests.

      I tend to be a queen of the one-liner shut down these days, too. I try not to cut anyone off at the knees anymore, but like you, when I do, it's quick. Also brutal.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  2. A lot to absorb here so I'm kinda gobsmacked.

    My counselor had me script then rehearse before I had contact with my NPs. Worked very briefly but then NF and NGC started to escalate.

    I did start to analyze how I felt after...100% like shit! This got me started on being aware of feelings associated with my NFOO. Guilt, anger and profound sadness were clues to my being manipulated and emotionally abused.

    Finally, I accepted them as they were and always would be, focused on my own behaviour and fast-forwarded my escape.

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    1. mulderfan,
      Yeah, that introspective quality and the tools that we use are so instrumental in helping us to get to the point of realization that they aren't going to change.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  3. Vanci - this post shows the process of healing from N's so wonderfully! All the trying, the self blame for not being able to figure out how to get through to them, the attempts at a healthy realtionship before finally realizing that they just can't do healthy. Thanks for this - I'm NC with 3 Nsiblings, but feel muddled about a 4th sib, the Silent Partner who protects and defends - I'm really not sure why I hate to lose someone who can't hear or see me and is so emotionally dishonest that she blithely explains that she's seen none of the behavior of the 3 Weird Sisters and she's just so naive - See? When I write it down, I wonder how I can refuse to see the handwriting on the wall!!!

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    1. Toto,
      Thank you! It is amazing how we change our view when we approach it from a different angle/medium. I remember seeing the 'handwriting on the wall' but still being stuck in how to change *it.*
      Best of luck to you. :)
      Love,
      Vanci

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  4. D) "All of the above."
    With a little, "Yeah, what IS IT about these "missives" (which rightfully should be called "dis-missives",) these veritable "Wall of Words" they beat us up with? These voluminous BOOKS, CHAPTERS, verses they "compose" and send us with "Bulk Mail" imprints?"
    Yk, it does seem crystal clear what the deal really IS once we get OUT of it. But when you're in the thick of it you trust nothing including your own perceptions-at least I didn't. And that's exactly why I've always said, "Psychob NEVER LIED. At least NOT behaviorally." Of course I knew something was wildly out of wack here, but my default option was inevitably, "OK, TW, ya just gotta try HARDER to make this work."
    Until there was not a bit left TO "work harder." I think of the words to a song (U2, I think) "If ya wanna kiss the sky gotta learn how to kneel-on your knees now!"
    Great Post, Vanci. You're on a roll here, woman! Thanks so much.
    TW

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    1. TW, I think these letter are just the written version of the verbal shit storms they unleash in an attempt to drown us with their toxic sewage.

      Fuck 'em!

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    2. TW,
      Your comment reminded me of one of my all time favorite quotes, "The field cannot well be seen from within the field." Ralph Waldo Emerson
      It is so hard to see it when we're in it. Thank you, TW. I guess I have a lot to say these days.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  5. My first counselor had me rehearse conversations. She would have me practice what I wanted to say and then consider every possible conceivable reply. Eventually, I learned I couldn't anticipate some of the insanity I heard. I did learn we were not communicating on the same level. I could not assume anything about what was being said to me, no matter how innocent it sounded. In a healthy relationship, you don't have to cover every possible perspective.

    This did lead to one of my more spectacular responses. My NM asked if my physical therapy was helping. I thought: Oh, good, something positive. I said, "Yes, it really makes a difference." The little smile and she said, "It would help if you lost weight, too." ZING! I looked her in the eye and replied, "Thank you so much for tell me because I am clearly too stupid to have figured it out for myself." Yes, it was incredibly satisfying to show her comment didn't hurt, and in fact was a stupid thing to say. She hasn't mentioned my weight since... maybe she has, but I ignore it now. My own little version of NC.

    I love the sock puppets idea!

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    1. Judy,
      It's sad that we have to be so prepared, on guard, hypervigilant about even having a conversation with these people. But I'm so glad that there are tools to help us protect ourselves!

      Love,
      Vanci

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  6. Judy. I tried that strategy with my mother. The rehearsing things. It's like rehearsing the things you want to say to a girl to get her to go out. You can have an answer for every thing but a possible one percent. That will be the tack they take.
    It's better to put saw dust on the floor and be ready to dance around any contingency.
    My mother would do the weight thing. But tell me I looked good with a couple of extra pounds.
    Then give me sweaters that were two sizes too small.

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    1. Q,
      Ah, the classic Set You Up to Knock You Down routine. What a witch.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  7. Every time I've tried to mend fences and build bridges, it always came back to bite me. Once I'd written to Nsis to try to reach out, and she responded "How come every time I'VE tried to reach out to YOU it's been treated like crap." and I thought, 'Huh? Say what?! When did you reach out to me? How have I treated you like that?' There's no winning. History rewritten, and I'm always on trial and always at fault. My every word or facial expression interpreted as malicious or cunning, and all my earnestness dismissed. Once, based on a facial expression, Nsis accused me of "trying to turn (her) children against (her)." It's crazy. Just crazy, and never safe. sigh.

    My mother's birthday is this weekend. I haven't spoken to her in over a year. I'm thinking of sending a plain card with the gift card she sent to my husband for his birthday. I don't hate her, and I wish she could love me, but I recognize she just isn't able to love, and she and Nsiblings will never be safe. I just have to keep myself safe, among friends and my own family who truly know and love me.

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    1. Brace,
      It never fails to amaze me how they will turn even the simplest gesture or expression around on us. I can't tell you how many times I had a smile or a laugh thrown back into my face. Many. Delah.

      I'm not sure that I could find a balance on the birthday card situation if I were in your position. I didn't hate my mother either, in fact I still don't because I won't let her have that much power over me. I often used to have to try to find a way to balance my desire to be a kind person (of course I'd like to send a card for anyone's birthday,) with the consequences that I knew my act would suffer (no matter how well intended that act would be.) In the end No Contact became my only option.

      I hope that you find the right answer for you.
      Love,
      Vanci

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  8. " As DH said early and often, "How long are you going to keep expecting sane responses from insane people?""

    My DH always said, "You keep expecting them to not be crazy, and you're always surprised when they are. How can this be?"

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    1. LuLoo,
      It's so hard for anyone who wasn't raised by Narcs to get how we can't see it. But from one ACoN to another and knowing what we now know, I think that the question becomes: How could we have ever thought anything else when that's the way it had ALWAYS been?

      Love,
      Vanci

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    2. Exactly, Vanci; everyone knows families love each other and take care of each other, and if the scapegoat doesn't see it, why, then it must be the scapegoat that's broken, right? The scapegoat needs to try harder, be better, not hold grudges. In other words, be a doormat.

      Once I saw it, once I "took the red pill", I couldn't ever un-see it. Thanks to you and all of the bloggers who so kindly shared their experiences. You've done more good than you can ever know.

      --LuLoo (I think I like this better than LurkerLoo--may I appropriate it?)

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    3. LuLoo,
      Appropriate away darlin', it's your name! :)
      I'm so glad you got to the point that you could see it for what it is and move forward.

      I've often heard it said that the SG in the family is inherently the strongest. No matter how hard they try to use that against us, we can choose to see through them. Amen.
      Love,
      Vanci

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  9. Ooops, forgot to sign 3:37 pm: it's LurkerLoo.

    Also wanted to comment on, "There's no winning. History rewritten, and I'm always on trial and always at fault. My every word or facial expression interpreted as malicious or cunning, and all my earnestness dismissed. "

    OMG, YES! Not only words or facial expressions--everything was used against me. For example, in junior high I was babysitting for a neighbor, and decided to use a buck-fifty out of my babysitting money for the day ($10) to buy myself an ice cream bar from the corner store on the walk home. I called my house to ask if anyone else wanted an ice cream bar, and my mother began to read out a list of items she wanted, including laundry detergent, a gallon of milk, a couple of true-confessions-type magazines, and a six-pack of soda (I swear I am not making this up). When I pointed out that 1) I was only earning $10 which wouldn't come near to covering what she wanted, and 2) I was walking home and there was no way I could carry laundry detergent *and* a gallon of milk *and* a six-pack of soda (much less the other stuff), she instantly decided I was "cheap". It became a favorite family game to walk behind me shrieking "cheap! cheap! cheap!" (like a bird). Anytime the phone was for me, they'd all shout "cheap! cheap!" while I was trying to talk. When people came over (didn't matter who--the meter reader, the mailman, anyone really), it was a Fun Family Story about how selfish I was that I had called and *bragged* that I was buying myself "all kinds of candy" and wasn't going to share it with anyone.

    --LurkerLoo

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    1. LuLoo,
      WTF? Only monsters treat their children as court jesters like that. You tried to do something nice and you paid and paid and paid for it. Proof of Narc concept, if you needed it. Glad you got away.

      Love,
      Vanci

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    2. Vanci, at the time, 11-year-old me thought I truly *was* selfish and lazy: after all, I could have made several trips back and forth to the convenience store! Who was I to hoard all my babysitting money when I should be sharing it with my family?!? I didn't *need* that ice cream bar, and maybe my family would like me if I spent all my money on them.

      Yeah, I don't think like that anymore. But I was trained to, once.

      --LuLoo

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    3. LuLoo, The stuff you put up with was abusive bullying, plain and simple. Who does that to their own kid?

      I'm not writing this to play one up because if your NFOO did that to an eleven year old it's a sure bet things got worse as you got older. Your comment just triggered this spew...apologies all round.

      My NPs never even pretended. They just took my weekend babysitting money, had me act as the NGC's free live-in nanny, then told me I couldn't go to university because I hadn't saved any money!

      When I was all grown up, making $3,500 a year (No, I didn't miss off a zero, it was 1965 & I was 19!) I was expected home every weekend to carry on with my housekeeping duties and for the privilege, I had to PAY $10 a week!

      Get this! They used to brag that they GAVE all of their kids a university education after I spent 7 years at night school to get my undergrad degree! They aren't even aware I got a post-grad degree nor can they name my majors or the universities I attended.

      Phew! That feels better!

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    4. LuLoo and mulderfan,
      Setting us up to fail, and then taking credit when we succeed despite them seems to be a hallmark of Narcs. What I'm fascinated with is the fact that so many of us do reach our goals, fulfill ourselves, that we succeed despite them. How fucking awesome are we?!

      Love,
      Vanci

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    5. Mulderfan, I'm appalled that your parents would take *all* your money, make you put yourself through college and then brag that they put you through uni. (Mine took out student loans using my name, spent the money on themselves, then casually informed me when I graduated that, oh, yeah, I've got a ton of debt to repay, and it's in my name, so it's my credit ruined if I didn't repay.) *Who does this?!?* Oh, yeah, Narcs. OTOH, to quote Father Mulcahy from MASH, "If someone tells you to go to hell, you can smile and say, 'No, thanks, I've already done my time.' It didn't break us, we are here, and as you say all the time, "FUCK 'EM!"

      --LuLoo

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  10. Helpful tools, Vanci - a lot to think about. I tend to explain things as "I'm so stupid for letting the car get dented." It is hard to become aware of, though, until I've given myself a good beating. Then I feel stupid for both the original thinking and the beating up - all cannon fodder for the self-loathing. Thanks for digging this up in your file!

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    1. upsi,
      Thank you! I realized as I re-read this post that it was just packed to the brim. I wrote it and I had trouble absorbing everything in it. LOL.

      I think that self-loathing is the chip they implant to control us (speaking totally NOT literally to a fellow Buffy fan, no, I don't really think that I have a chip in my brain,) and it's active for a long time after we get away. Relearning for me has required unlearning a lot, which is no easy or small task.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  11. Vanci, Thanks so much for posting this. I'm going to reread it tomorrow when I don't have a "Trick or Treat" hangover. I really appreciate you looking into this for me.

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    1. jessie,
      You are welcome and I hope that your trick or treat joy was worth the hangover. I hope it's of value.

      Love,
      Vanci

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    2. meaning the post is of value to you, not the hangover. LOL.
      Love,
      Vanci

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    3. They both were Vanci! Great post, great information, lots of value. And great time with my kiddos, enjoying Halloween as much as possible with them so well worth the hangover :).

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  12. I still need to reread this post. Because it shocked me with so much self-recognition. Not sure I liked it. Not sure I didn't like it either. It's still feeling like so much water splashed in my face, but I'm pretty sure it's in the right way, lol.

    And it's funny that I'm feeling guilty that I haven't drummed up a proper comment to your post because when someone puts themselves out there like you did with this post, I feel I owe you for what you gave and what I learned no know it's not your intent when you blog, but it sure as hell feels like a gift I want to show the right appreciation.

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    1. vi,
      Sorry to shock you. :)
      It is a gift, and one that comes with absolutely ZERO strings attached. You're absolutely free to do whatever you wish with it, including nothing, and you don't have to feel guilty for any (or no) reaction. But you're welcome.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  13. Excellent Vanci, I am still learning to 'pull apart' my reactions to check in with myself as to what I do feel about a situation. A lot of information packed in this post. Probably need to reread it a couple of more times.
    Thanks.
    Ruth

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