Thursday, May 16, 2013

That Which Shall Not Be Named - Still Exists

I adore some of the people who make up the family that I married into.  Others I try to find ways to understand and, lacking that, I meditate on words like: compassion.  Kindness.  Tolerance.  Acceptance.

I haven't written about them here much because this is the place that I write about how I was abused by my family of origin and my struggles to overcome that particular Homer-esque Epic of Trauma.  Simply put, my in-laws haven't been abusive to me; in fact my SIL and BIL have never been anything but supportive of me.  They're some of the people in my life who stood by me through thick and thin - even when they hadn't a clue what was causing my pain or what the holy hell was going on, they picked up the phone and they listened and talked and expressed to me six different ways from Sunday that they loved me.  They were proud of me.  They had my back, baby.

DH and I have traveled many roads together, some of the uphill all the way until you get to the washed out bridge variety and some that have been delightful scenic routes to beautiful places.  He's taught me how to allow myself to be loved in the skin that I'm in in so many different ways, and I've shown him how to crack open the shell of fear that he sometimes retreats to in order to let the sunshine in.

I've never particularly understood my mother- and father-in-law, but I've cared for them and they've cared for me in their own (extremely private) way.  We have very, very little in common as far as our beliefs, our life experiences, how we choose to spend our time, what we enjoy.  We eat differently and at different times. I like spices and fresh produce and food that has unique flavor.  They put ketchup on tacos and mayonnaise on... well, everything else.  They enjoy being 'country.'  I decidedly do not, to the point that I've been known to ask people who refer to a creek as a crick to show me, damn it, show me where that pronunciation exists in a dictionary.  They're crazy cat people (seriously, six cats is a ridiculous number of cats to have,) and I am firmly a one-dog person.  You get the picture.

We've found our vibe of co-existence over the years, though, and it's been mostly comfortable for me.

After all, with my background of family=abuse and mother/father/sister/brother=psychopaths, the in-laws have seemed largely normal to me.

Except for this thing, this giant elephant that stuck its trunk inquisitively into my living room a few years ago and has been slowly inching its mass further and further into the spotlight sense then...

My mother-in-law lies.  If I detailed it all, we'd be here all night, but here's a breakdown of some of the more egregious offenses:
She decided I was Mormon before DH and I got married.  Twelve years later, I still have no idea how she manufactured this; I had two children and was divorced, had lived out of wedlock with her son for almost two years, smoked like a chimney, swore like a sailor and drank like a fish, claimed zero religious affiliation though my father was a Southern Baptist minister (very much NOT Mormon, possibly even ANTI-Mormon as So. Baptists are pretty much ANTI-anything that's not So. Baptist,) and my wedding dress - which she'd seen - barely, just barely covered my ass.  During one particularly energetic dance, it actually didn't cover my ass.  I, however, was drunk enough not to care.  The centerpiece of our wedding reception was a fully stocked champagne fountain.  We got married in our backyard and went to Vegas for our honeymoon.  Really, I would have been the worst Mormon ever.  Ever.
But instead of being forthright, instead of actually asking, instead of developing a relationship, she - without ever asking either DH or myself - decided that I was Mormon (a bad thing in their family,) and called all of the extended relatives to tell them this.

I remember thinking, "Oh... kay."
DH was furious, but I let it go because, hey, I loved the guy.  He loved me.  I had enough issues with my own mother, right?

There have been lots of other "Oh... kay" moments over the years.  Stories that didn't add up the first time she told them, much less as they morphed over time in the (repeated) re-tellings.  Alleged facts of her or other people's live that are thrown out in conversation as attention getting tactics, but don't really add up.  (She barely graduated high school while preggers with my DH, and has never worked outside of her home other than to volunteer at the seriously bass-ackwards and ineffectual "christian" school that she forced her children to attend, is barely literate and has never pursued academic or intellectual enrichment, yet she has begun claiming that she, "retired from teaching.")  Oh... kay.

When my FIL had a major and debilitating stroke, they both insisted for years that it had just been a 'baby stroke.'  No matter how many times I showed them and told them that by definition a 'mini-stroke' or TIA is a stroke that causes no long term effects, they insisted that FIL hadn't had a major stroke.  Even when the man had to attend physical therapy to learn how to use his non-dominant left hand to write with and to pick up such tricks as how to sit on his right hand to control the involuntary muscle movements enough to not backhand the person sitting next to him, they still insisted that he'd only had a 'little stroke.'  Oh... kay.

She claimed that the water test she had done on our well when we moved into this house was fine and clear of bacteria, yet after our disastrous incident with our well poisoning, when we got our fifth water test back showing that the contamination had returned... again, I asked her to show me a copy of that initial water test. I wish I could say that I was shocked when I saw that it said, right there in black and white, that our well water was contaminated (and therefore we had been drinking contaminated water for four fucking years,) but I really wasn't all that shocked.

What did shock me was the height of the wall of denial that she was willing to stand behind in order to be proven right.  Her response?  "I don't know what to tell you.  The water's always been fine for us!"  Oh... kay.

So, in the last week, we've all been dealing with some illness on my father-in-law's part.  He's had medical issues that have gone largely untreated by the non-involved and apathetic doctors that they insist on seeing (cause that's always been fine for us!) and he had another event last week.

I was the first person to say the word (stroke! stroke! stroke! stroke! STROKE goddamnit!) this time just like I was the first person to say it out loud the first time he was in the hospital for that alleged 'minor event' that wiped out all functionality on one side of his body.  And it got me thinking.

I grew up in this vortex of illusion and deceit wherein it was dictated that as long as we didn't name the Big Bad Thing, as long as no one found out about the Big Bad Thing, as long as we didn't acknowledge the Big Bad Thing, then either the Big Bad Thing didn't really exist or the Big Bad Thing was really just an Honest Mistake.  I distinctly remember my molesting ENF teaching the girl scout class on how a girl should tell, tell, tell a trusted adult if another adult touched her 'private parts.'   So, yeah, start with two parts abuse, add one part crazy and a dash or denial of reality, let cook for 30 years then watch the ACON dry out and run screaming for dear life from the NFOO Crazymaker Clan jello mold.  (Then watch the NFOO blame the Scapegoat ACON for all of it in the first place.)

My only way out of that hell was to get honest, real honest, and how.
And I learned that naming the Big Bad Thing and shouting about the Big Bad Thing from rooftops was not only the way to take away its power, but also to cleanse it, to remove the shame and fear and humiliation and fear from it and reduce it from the (Powerful) Big Bad (Secretive) Thing to the thing we're going to deal with.  To make it a part of life, and maybe not the most comfortable part of life, but a part of life that can be dealt with, categorized, taken care of, moved on from and possibly even prevented from reappearing in the future.

So now, the past, present and future medical issues of my FIL are coming out into the open.  Something will have to be done.  Something will have to be named.  Confronted.  Taken care of.  Dealt with.

And my MIL and FIL are so, so, so, so terrified of that, so frozen in the clutches of denial, struggling so hard to not see it for what it is, so willing to lie to themselves and everyone around them in order to deny the existence of the problem that they are risking my FIL's life in order to do so by not seeking immediate testing, diagnosis, treatment, solutions.  I'm super proud of my DH and SIL for spearheading this drive to name the darkness, though they're scared as fuck, too.  They're choosing not to hide from it or to make up stories to deflect reality or hide behind denial like they were taught to do, and I couldn't be happier for them.

Still.  Sigh.
What a cluster fuck.

This blog is about my deciding to carry the rocks that have my name on them.  I'm in the middle of the process of determining which rocks in this pile are mine to carry and of deciding which grindstone to throw the considerable weight of my support and will to.  It's going to take a lot of strength and thought.
It's going to take a lot of honesty.

I guess I'll just spend some time thanking my allegedly Mormon gawd that I've got honesty in spades.

Love,
Vanci

31 comments:

  1. I don't know where these people spend their days but it's not on the same planet as the rest of us.

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    1. Q,
      Perhaps they come from the Planet of Made Up Shit? Where Shit just gets... Made up?

      Love,
      Vanci

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  2. I agree with Q. I always wonder what the world looks like form that side of reality. How does one delude themselves that much?

    I am so glad you are remaining strong and honest. It can be easy to get sucked into that stuff.

    And Mormon? Really? What was the point of that? Be careful with your MIL. I thought my in-laws were normal too (or so it seemed in comparison) but lying and age creation are not healthy or normal behaviors.

    Sorry your FIL is sick. Sending healthy thoughts and hugs to you and your family.

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    1. jessie,
      I don't know how they do it. Honestly, from the outside looking in, it seems to me that it's a hell of a lot easier to just tell the truth than to try to keep of track of and eventually answer for the lies.

      We laugh... a lot... between my DH, SIL, BIL and me about the Mormon thing. It's just so out there. I mean, I've been called a lot of things, some of which were dead nuts on, but overly conservative religious ain't one of em!

      Thanks for your healthy thoughts.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  3. So, what holler do these folks holler from? Yep. Sure sounds like he got hisself a(nother) stroke. Yeah, they're terrified for sure. Vanci, BIL and SIL need to call the local Ambulance/Rescue Squad folks. And 'splain what's up. And see iffin they could send someone out to pay a nice lil' "social call" on FIL and MIL. 'Afore FIL ends up on a vent in a Nursing Home. That approach might scare them right into adult diapers so I'm thinkin' about a "Round-About" Approach for these folks: I don't s'pose anyone could bribe them into the car/truck/buggy with a promise of an ice cream cone/a coupla beers/a Demolition Derby/A Tent Revival In Town and drive him to the nearest ER? Yes, I'm absolutely suggesting kidnapping both of them because it doesn't sound like one will go anywhere without the other so it's a "BOGO" kinda deal. And thats where he *really* needs to be-and preferably not at the same facility where their Primary "Healthcare Providers" are occasionally located. But at this time, any ER will do. (Hell, any Vet's Office would do at this point.) But BIL and SIL need to get movin' on this ASAP so
    -Call an Ambulance/EMTs and tell 'em what's up and the hell with the consequences when they show up at FIL and MIL's place, the EMTs will deal with it. They deal with these kinds of situations all the time.
    -Ride to ER under duress/false pretenses-as that's where he needs to be pronto.
    My immediate concern is FIL will be in a Vegetative State if BIL and SIL wait much longer. And I doubt he has a Health Care Proxy so it'll be a bigger mess yet.

    Huh. In view of your description of your Wedding Day, I guess I've been an unwitting Mormon for years too...sigh. I've been called a *lot* worse than that ;)
    TW

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    1. TW,
      He was actually in the ER last week and then held overnight, which is what precipitated all this. The main problems seem to be in follow up and in comprehension. I look at as a ten year list of symptoms, and I immediately come up with two, maybe three things that are likely to be causing all or most of those symptoms.
      They seem to be able (or want?) only to see one thing at a time. Then, when they haven't given all the pertinent information to a doctor, the doctor looks at only the one symptom and says, "all right, well, aspirin should help." In their minds, it's a done deal.

      My immediate go-to (as a do-er in times of crisis,) is to start banging heads together and shoving people in cars. But getting them to understand the urgency is... well, difficult. I talked to DH last night about the urgency of the situation and the responsibility of guilt that will weigh on those who know and do not act if something unreversible or fatal does occur.

      Part of their particular sickness is in the delays, delays, hope it will go away delays. So, my role, I think is to be the town crier out on the street yelling X-tra! X-tra! at every available opportunity.

      I'm with you - get to a hospital NOW! But it's like pushing sentient boulders uphill.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  4. I'm glad you are on the same wavelength with DH, SIL, &BIL, it makes it easier than being the lone ranger.
    It's mindboggling when people are in complete denial about something so obvious to everyone else. There sure is a pattern of 'there's nothing wrong here',ie, well, stroke, etc.
    In my own family cluster fuck, it's worked to help with what I can, but also realize at some point it is ultimately up to the 'denier' to make and live with their decision. Sometimes you can prevent the trainwreck and sometimes it's just not in your power depending on circumstances.
    Best wishes to you.

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    1. Anon,
      I'm glad we're all together in our thinking, too. Now if we could just get the actual people with the issues crowbarred out of their recliners...

      I'm trying to stay in the balance of controlling my controllables; damn it's a tight spot sometimes!

      Thanks for your well wishes.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  5. HEY! I'm a Mormon too then! Who'da thunk it?

    That whole 'revise the truth' thing is the most frustrating thing I've had to deal with in a long time. I have one sister who is re-writing family history so that our mom looks like a fucking saint, and this is the sister who was my biggest champion when I decided to stop being silent about the abuse I suffered from BOTH PARENTS. *sigh*

    It's the lies about the well water that actually scare me the most. Let them deny he is in a bad way until he's dead, that's on them. But to put you and yours in danger of being poisoned... Maybe start making her some fresh brewed well-water iced tea? Bless her heart, she's prolly thirsty from all that denying.

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    1. Gladys,
      Her lying about the well infuriated me to the point of near-homicide. We found out last fall (after the Disinfecting a Poison Well post I wrote and three weeks of re-testing the water, thinking we'd missed a spot or something,) and it enraged me so much that I haven't even been able to express it here until now. Fine, do what you want with your own fucked up life, but put me and mine in danger? Hoo-buddy, talk about a runaway freight train. It was five months before I could even speak a word to her.

      Fortunately, we were able to install a whole house UV purification system, so we're feeling better about it now, but oh my gawd, DH had to physically hold me back a few times.

      Revisionism makes me batty, too. I think it's one of the reasons that I, like most ACONs, have such a fine memory - we HAD to remember every last detail because we KNEW they were going to try to rewrite it (and themselves) in a better light.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  6. My husband's first "minor stroke" left one side of his face crooked and his left hand pretty much useless. He was scared shitless and so deep in denial that he smoked and drank more than he ever had in his life while not bothering with the little details of eating properly or taking his meds. Of course he'd actually had real minor strokes in the past and not bothered to tell anyone!

    Nothing I said or did would make him face reality and his personality gradually changed until he became permanently angry and damn near impossible to live with. A year and a half after his first minor stroke he had another one and I had to leave him lying on the floor and go into another room to call 911 because he was so determined to stop me from calling an ambulance. He told the paramedics I was over-reacting! He died three weeks later, still mad at me for making him go to the hospital.

    So as far as the strokes go, IMO these things change people and make them fucking nuts!

    The rest of the lies are for the benefit of your MIL's outside image or just plain stupidity. Except when they endanger YOUR immediate family, I don't think they're your "rock".

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    1. mulderfan,
      I'm so sorry that you had to deal with that. So, so sorry.
      I don't think we're that far off from seeing this type of behavior in FIL (with MIL enabling it all the way to the grave.)
      I don't think that most of it's mine to carry, either, though I wish they'd let me carry more of it for them sometimes. (Cause at least then something would be done about it!)

      I'm trying to focus on supporting the people that I can: DH, SIL and BIL, and to redirect all conversations about it back to the truth. Fortunately, clawing my way out of the Crazymaker Clan has finely honed that particular skill for me!

      Love,
      Vanci

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  7. OK, he was just in the ER last week? And his "symptoms" have not abated? His *only* health insurance is likely Medicare. (I guarantee you, if he had Private Insurance he wouldn't have been sent home.) If his current symptoms are similar it's time for BIL and SIL to kick ass and ask questions later-ie, call the facility and TELL them THIS:
    If a patient is discharged from a Medical Facility and comes back to the facility within 30 days with the same or similar symptoms or symptoms related to the initial presenting problem, the patient shall be re-admitted for a COMPLETE WORK-UP AND THE HOSPITAL WILL EAT THE COSTS for not properly assessing/addressing the initial medical problem. It is *not* the patients "job" to remember to tell the MD all of their symptoms or meds-especially when they haven't been asked or failed to remember to mentioned this lil' thing or that etc. Or were not adequately given follow-up that was feasible/understood by the patient including a Public Health Nursing Order for follow-up at home. SIL and BIL will be calling the Rescue Squad/Ambulance AND THE FACILITY WILL EAT THE COST OF TRANSPORT AS WELL.
    SIL and BIL? Make the call to the Rescue Squad and tell the facility he's on his way NOW.
    TW

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  8. I'm sorry for being such a bitch about this but my best friend is in the hospital near death right now. Why?
    -She only has Medicare for Insurance
    -She was admitted to the hospital 2 wks. ago yesterday (Thurs.) and discharged on Sun. despite her MD's pleading with the powers-that-be to keep her for at least another day. Rita told me she felt no better when she was discharged
    -She was re-admitted via ambulance Tues. and is in isolation with a ton of compounding medical issues beyond the original issue including
    -MERSA, which she picked up in the facility
    -She was prematurely discharged *only* because she has Medicare
    -She told me tonight, "TW, I didn't think it hurt this much to die"
    And it'll be damn cold comfort to her kids and grandkids and me if she dies from a preventable death if the hospital had acted in her best interests instead of their bottom line.

    Another dear friend was admitted to the hospital yesterday and
    -has Medicare as her only insurance
    -told me late this afternoon when I called she was being discharged momentarily although she doesn't feel one bit better but "..was told to take (her) meds at night instead of during the day." WTF?
    -and I told her exactly what I just told you above about what happens in terms of $$ to the medical facility when she gets re-admitted in a day or two
    -Here's yet another stunning example of what happens secondary to "Premature Discharge."

    I've had a couple of strokes. I take my meds faithfully if for no other reason than I paid for them. In more ways than I can count. My strokes were caused by (in a nutshell) medical negligence: Don't bother *looking* at and/or *listening* to the patient-just keep your nose buried in her medical record and don't bother ordering a few simple "tests"-as opposed to all the more complex, expensive, USELESS tests and painful, invasive procedures you put me through because I have PRIVATE INSURANCE. All "this" could have been avoided: I'd still be working, my body would still be working and maybe I wouldn't be such a bitch. I just had my 18 yr. old geriatric cat Trouble put down last week. The only consolation? I swear Troubs had a more dignified death than the rest of us are gonna have.
    TW

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    1. TW,
      Thank you for your words of wisdom. I've passed them on with my own flavor and can only hope (translation: will nag the snot out of the rest of the family,) that they haven't fallen on deaf ears.

      I'm sorry to hear about Trouble. I'm meowing my consolations to the Northern Sky.
      Love,
      Vanci

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    2. OH, TW - I'm so sorry to hear about Trouble.

      I'm also sorry your friend is suffering.

      Fucking hell.

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  9. With my current health problems I can relate to the need/want to roll over and change channels on the TV and put off going to the hospital as long as possible. But I would never do that if it was putting other peoples health in jeopardy i.e. her sweeping the contaminated well issue under the rug, that is just crazy.

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    1. Q,
      Yeah, I try to live and let live as much as I can, and I do understand the desire to ignore/deny the scary problems, especially medical problems which - as TW so eloquently stated above, are going to be fucked up by the doctors anyway. I think that the movie Juno has the best line I've ever heard regarding that particular field of work, "Doctors are sadists who like to make people scream."

      Re: the well. I still, after almost nine months, don't even know where to place this behavior in the range of my emotional responses. Rage is the most frequent winner, followed closely by bafflement. I can't understand how someone can be so selfish as to lie about something so important.. and then feel no remorse.

      I've a feeling it's a dragon I've yet to slay.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  10. I usually err on the side of too much honesty (I'm one of those who announces her alcoholism if the subject comes up), so I don't get people who ostrich their way through life, like my father.

    Like I tell my son, I say I'm just shy of 5'1" rather than rounding up because saying I'm taller doesn't make it true. Lies don't bend reality; lies bend your morality.

    Now sins of omission... I'm guilty of that.

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    1. vi,
      My NM had a saying when I was a kid, "He/she lies when the truth would be better!" She was usually referring to a compulsive fib-teller acquaintance. I remember always thinking; wait, isn't the truth ALWAYS better?

      There have to be some core-level personality differences at work here, I think.

      I'm glad to be a truth seeker rather than a cover-upper. I am also very upfront about my alcoholism, though I try not to be in your face about it to the point of making others uncomfortable. I always present it from an "I" standpoint, lest normies (or incipient alkies!) think that I'm judging them or their drinking. But, yeah, when offered a drink or asked about my habits, I tell people that I'm a gratefully sober alcoholic. Rigorous honesty, indeed.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  11. Oh, and the thing about you being a Mormon cracked me up.

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    1. If Vanci's a Mormon, I'm a nun!

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    2. mulderfan,
      Oh what a pair we'd be in an AA convention.

      Love,
      Vanci

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  12. Well Vanci, I really am a Mormon, and I think you're great. You speak the truth, and the world's a better place for it. You have a gift for telling the horrible truth about tough things with power, humor, and yeah, hope. I don't mind the salty language-you speak the truth, and frankly that's what's important in my book. My N-Mom and N-brother are complete liars, though they don't usually swear. I'll take the truth in four letter words than lies told in clean language. Winston Churchill had a great phrase he liked to use that's crude but effective: K.B.O.

    (Keep Buggering On!!)

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    1. Anon,
      KBO, that's awesome!
      Thank you for your kind words, I certainly do try to speak the truth.

      I hope I haven't offended you (or any other) Mormon readers - or any other religions, creeds, sects or denominations for that matter. Although I wouldn't belong to a religious denomination if hot pokers were applied to the soles of my feet, I know lots of people that I would consider my friends who are from all different walks of spiritual life, and I always have and always will consider their faith preferences as a non-issue. I don't care what people claim to believe or how they declare their beliefs; I care who they show me that they are, in other words.

      It would have been just as hilarious (though odd, very, very odd) if MIL had made a decision to peg me as a Catholic or a Muslim or any other religion with a conservative reputation. She picked Mormon, I think, because it would have been the best bang for the buck as far as shock and awe within her culturally unenlightened and bigoted extended family. It was a way to preemptively brand me as "Other/Outsider." What I find so funny is that all of the Mormons that I know are very nice people for the most part - but there's no arguing with the fact that they are all conservative in their behavior, and I was just so... Not.

      She mostly just proved that she didn't know me at all with this declaration. But she also further alienated her son with this antic and her ignorance. It was all just so (dropping my chosen expletive just this one time for you, but I'll give you a hint and tell you that if I were going to insert said expletive here, it would be my favorite F word,) ridiculous.

      Love,
      Vanci


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  13. No worries. I teach high school in a rough neighborhood, so hearing swearing is a fact of life. Though I try not to indulge in it, nothing makes me swear faster than my N-relatives stalking me after going NC with them. There's just something about dealing with them that induces language of the hammer-smashes-thumb variety.

    Have a good one.

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  14. What is it with N's and revisionism? Before I cut ties, I used to watch in awe as history was rewritten *right in front of my eyes*. Often over just stupid, pointless stuff: for example; there are two Chinese restaurants with similar names near the NFOO's house. On one occasion, we all meet at one, and halfway through the meal, NF realized he'd meant to go to the other one. He confronted the poor waiter about the names (not the waiter's fault that NF picked the wrong place) and the waiter said, "Similar names, different owners". Before the guy was out of earshot, the story had morphed into, "Did you hear that? The waiter said the other place has GARBAGE!" To this day, the NFOO talks about how 'rude' the waiter was to them that day. --LuLoo

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    1. Just like my NF! Unable to admit he made a mistake, it has to be twisted into a whole other, invariably negative, story!

      Us "normies" would just laugh it off but narcs have to surround themselves with drama, drama and more drama. It's a wonder they don't all drop dead by the time they're forty. My theory is they're preserved in their own acidic hate juice!

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    2. ^Amen, Mulder. They're already embalmed, IMO.
      And have been for as long as we've known them which has been since our earliest memories/experiences.
      TW

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  15. Finally catching up. I am so sorry your FIL is sick. Perhaps DH understands and attracted to you because he appreciates your honesty after all the lies he grew up with. I was raised with don't talk about the elephant in the living room, a constant flow of lies, and 'denile' ain't just a river in Egypt. Sometimes enlisting the doctor to help but bottom line is they want their 'reality' no matter who else gets hurt including themselves. I had the opposite, someone found out I was Mormon and said, "she can't be, she swears." Well after working with computers for years, 'Shit damnit all to hell' is appropriate for some situations.

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  16. Love this -- "Honesty in spades".

    No amount or flavor of religion can make a lie into something true.

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