I've been enjoying the narc-free holiday season to its fullest while surrounded by people who are lovely, loving and safe. Though I haven't posted much over the last couple weeks, I've been thinking of you and sending out my wishes for the new year; that you will be happy, healthy and free from fear.
Fear was the primary weapon of NM, ENF, NSis and GCYB, both in my childhood and in my enslavement to the NFOO as an adult. They counted on my fear and used it as a way to manipulate me into the position and place that they deemed me worthy of. They used my fear to define my role as the Scapegoat and Bad Seed in order to use me to their ends and to protect themselves from blame. That's really what all the gaslighting and mind-twisting was about, you see. It's so much easier to remain the good guy despite your evil actions if you have a consistently believable fall guy (or gal.)
It worked for a very long time. I was afraid of losing their 'love,' of being wrong, being bad, stepping outside of the lines. I feared retribution and retaliation, both of the overt and subtle varieties. I feared losing the only 'family' I'd known so much that even after I began my own family I still heeded every beck and call from the NFOO. I was still under their spell, which was largely generated by fear of being cast out.
Even after I was reasonably sure that the structure and foundation of the family I was raised in was a sick, putrid shambles of shame, I stuck around. I was so afraid that if I made a stand, if I stood up for what I KNEW was right against the wishes of the Crazymaker Clan, I'd be thrown out. Banished. I made the best of it for as long as I could even to the detriment of my family and my self; my soul, my heart, my health, my mind all suffered. There's an old story that one cowpoke asks another who's been cleaned out by the town saloon's crooked game of Farro, "If you knew the game was crooked, why'd you play?" And the destitute cowpoke responds, "Well, it was the only game in town!" It was truly all I knew. But then... one day... I woke up.
I took that ultimate step of gathering my strength and my wits about me and I said, ENOUGH. I drew a boundary even though I knew it would go down like the Hindenberg and I was very, very afraid that my boundary would bring about what I had always known would be the outcome of my bucking the system. I'd always known, specifically since I was 13 and tried to change the NFOO dynamics, that should I step too far out of bounds, I'd be cast out. I knew that they were all going to gang up on me. After all, they'd certainly done it before. Many times.
But I did it anyway, because it was right and because it had to be done. We scapegoats are the strongest members of our clans, I believe, and if we weren't when we were originally 'chosen' for the role, years of survived abuse sure do serve to toughen us up!
So there I was, out in the desert all by myself and still carrying the piled-on sins of the members of the NFOO. Was I lonely? Sure. Was I scared? Absolutely. Did I feel lost? As a ball in high weeds.
I stuck to it, though, and I did this by seeking to understand. Originally I wanted to find a way to understand them, I'll admit it. I wanted to figure out how they ticked so that I could find a way to fix it and get things back to normal. I was fiercely indoctrinated and well trained that this was my role, unfortunately, and a LOT of my time and energy in the first year of semi-NC was spent trying to find a way back to what was comfortable with just a few changes. I had a serious case of the IF's: if I could just be better, if I could just speak clearly, if I could just figure out a way to make it work...
I couldn't, of course, because -as I began to realize over time and with some distance from the daily ration of shit they wanted to feed me - the problem didn't lie with me. And, sadly, they've no interest in doing better, being better, in changing. They have a heavily invested interest in me changing BACK to what they want me to be, but that's the only problem that they see: me.
So, this stale-mate, standoff, state of perpetual No Contact remains. I am effectively out. My fear, it seems, was based in reality: what I knew would happen, did.
But, and here's the linchpin for me, now that I'm no longer a part of the Clan, it's been so easy to see that the result of my banishment has been 95% positive. If I no longer have a mother, father, sister or brother, so be it, because the only mother, father, sister and brother I'd ever had were bad, mean, awful versions of a mother, father, sister and brother.
I'm free.
In the interest of trying to express on the page what I am screaming with joy, allow me to repeat;
I. Am. Free!
Free from their demands and vanities, free from their soul sucking and financially draining presence, free from the self doubt and manipulation that was their mainstay in the attempt to ruin Vanci. I'm free from their labels and their late-night rants and their fucked up, sad, pathetic lives.
The 5% that I regret is that I will not be able to have a relationship with my nephew, who is my crazy NSis's son. And that sucks. But it's a pretty small portion, and the benefit outweighs the cost.
Mostly, though, what I relish is that I am free from fear.
I thought initially after the separation that I'd lost it all, and for awhile that's exactly what I felt like. I sat in it long enough, though, to come to understand that what I'd really lost were the shackles of fear I'd been living in forever. They threw me out and I survived it. What a small step from there it was to start learning how to thrive and live in this world without fear.
I wish you all the best, and I especially wish you freedom from fear.
Love,
Vanci
Showing posts with label manipulation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manipulation. Show all posts
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
To Make Amends
I've been ruminating lately on the whole apology vs. amends question I've come across in this blog community as well as in life. I wanted to share my take on it.
An apology:
Saying "I am sorry," means "I screwed up. I apologize."
An amends:
Making amends is a little more complicated, I think. Amends are - technically speaking - payback. Amends mean that I'm going to engage in restitution, that I will compensate you for the behavior I hurt you with, and the payment will be better behavior.
In my opinion, amends work like this. I say, "Here's what I did, and it was wrong. I know that I hurt you by doing this. It was my fault. I am responsible. I am never going to do that again, because I have taken ownership of the choice to behave in that way toward you, and I regret it. I wish I wouldn't have hurt you because you are valuable and I had no right."
Apologies, it seems to me, are a bridge type of action. They're a brief moment in time somewhere between causing hurt and moving on. Often an apology is instrumental in moving a relationship or a dialogue forward. Sometimes, most often in the case of a misunderstanding, an apology is an acceptable action to acknowledge an insult/injury/slight and make it right or better by that acknowledgement. Apologies are simple, usually, and are appropriate in the case of simpler problems that are not part of a larger pattern of intentional hurt.
Amends, I think, are more than an acknowledgement of wrong doing; when I make amends it means that I take it a step further than recognition. Making amends is about taking responsibility for a harm that I caused, being honest about that harm's impact, making myself accountable for both the action and the harm and laying out a clear and well-thought-out plan for not only the promise that I will not cause that harm again in the future but also a how-to of the steps and changes I intend to enact in order to ensure it. Most importantly, amends are about follow-up; in order to truly make amends, I have to do what I say I am going to/not going to do. Forever.
True amends require complete honesty, deep personal responsibility and sincerity.
Apologies require acknowledgement and words.
My group of malignant narcissists, enablers and crazymakers that I call the NFOO doesn't contain a single member capable of the honesty, responsibility or sincerity that amends require.
But they are good at the type of sort of apologies that Narcs like to use to get their way:
I'm sorry if I hurt you ~ when I know damn well that I did.
I'm sorry you see it that way ~ so I'll invalidate your basic memory or logic of the truth
I'm sorry that you felt XXX ~ even though that's what I wanted you to feel
I don't remember that, but I'm sorry if it wasn't right for you ~ when I certainly remember it well and I got what I wanted out of it
I think that all of these quasi-apologies are just a means to an end for a Narc. What they all really boil down to is: hey, this stalemate where you're expecting me to acknowledge and make right the truth of my actions in order for me to gain access to you as my Narc Supply isn't working for me, so I'll say the right type of words I think you need to hear without actually changing any of my actions so that I can get what I want from you again. Okay?
It's just another trick, another manipulation that the Narc uses to place them in a position of power. So, the Narc hurts me, usually intentionally. And then the Narc asks me to carry that hurt around with me. When I refuse, the Narc makes it my fault. If enough time passes and the Narc isn't getting what the Narc wants, the Narc will try to half-ass their way back in with empty words and hollow apologies. So that the Narc can hurt me again.
Um, yeah. No thanks. Apology not accepted. Not at all. And what does the Narc do with this rebuff? What a Narc does best, of course! They use it as a way to show everyone that whatever this silly little problem Vanci had was, I tried to apologize and she wouldn't accept it. I just don't know what's wrong with her? Boo hoo, poor little Narc! So it seems that the Narc will sink to any murky depth to get their Narc Supply.
At least it's not being sucked out of me anymore. And for that, I am truly and unequivocally NOT sorry. Not one bit.
Love,
Vanci
An apology:
Saying "I am sorry," means "I screwed up. I apologize."
An amends:
Making amends is a little more complicated, I think. Amends are - technically speaking - payback. Amends mean that I'm going to engage in restitution, that I will compensate you for the behavior I hurt you with, and the payment will be better behavior.
In my opinion, amends work like this. I say, "Here's what I did, and it was wrong. I know that I hurt you by doing this. It was my fault. I am responsible. I am never going to do that again, because I have taken ownership of the choice to behave in that way toward you, and I regret it. I wish I wouldn't have hurt you because you are valuable and I had no right."
Apologies, it seems to me, are a bridge type of action. They're a brief moment in time somewhere between causing hurt and moving on. Often an apology is instrumental in moving a relationship or a dialogue forward. Sometimes, most often in the case of a misunderstanding, an apology is an acceptable action to acknowledge an insult/injury/slight and make it right or better by that acknowledgement. Apologies are simple, usually, and are appropriate in the case of simpler problems that are not part of a larger pattern of intentional hurt.
Amends, I think, are more than an acknowledgement of wrong doing; when I make amends it means that I take it a step further than recognition. Making amends is about taking responsibility for a harm that I caused, being honest about that harm's impact, making myself accountable for both the action and the harm and laying out a clear and well-thought-out plan for not only the promise that I will not cause that harm again in the future but also a how-to of the steps and changes I intend to enact in order to ensure it. Most importantly, amends are about follow-up; in order to truly make amends, I have to do what I say I am going to/not going to do. Forever.
True amends require complete honesty, deep personal responsibility and sincerity.
Apologies require acknowledgement and words.
My group of malignant narcissists, enablers and crazymakers that I call the NFOO doesn't contain a single member capable of the honesty, responsibility or sincerity that amends require.
But they are good at the type of sort of apologies that Narcs like to use to get their way:
I'm sorry if I hurt you ~ when I know damn well that I did.
I'm sorry you see it that way ~ so I'll invalidate your basic memory or logic of the truth
I'm sorry that you felt XXX ~ even though that's what I wanted you to feel
I don't remember that, but I'm sorry if it wasn't right for you ~ when I certainly remember it well and I got what I wanted out of it
I think that all of these quasi-apologies are just a means to an end for a Narc. What they all really boil down to is: hey, this stalemate where you're expecting me to acknowledge and make right the truth of my actions in order for me to gain access to you as my Narc Supply isn't working for me, so I'll say the right type of words I think you need to hear without actually changing any of my actions so that I can get what I want from you again. Okay?
It's just another trick, another manipulation that the Narc uses to place them in a position of power. So, the Narc hurts me, usually intentionally. And then the Narc asks me to carry that hurt around with me. When I refuse, the Narc makes it my fault. If enough time passes and the Narc isn't getting what the Narc wants, the Narc will try to half-ass their way back in with empty words and hollow apologies. So that the Narc can hurt me again.
Um, yeah. No thanks. Apology not accepted. Not at all. And what does the Narc do with this rebuff? What a Narc does best, of course! They use it as a way to show everyone that whatever this silly little problem Vanci had was, I tried to apologize and she wouldn't accept it. I just don't know what's wrong with her? Boo hoo, poor little Narc! So it seems that the Narc will sink to any murky depth to get their Narc Supply.
At least it's not being sucked out of me anymore. And for that, I am truly and unequivocally NOT sorry. Not one bit.
Love,
Vanci
Friday, September 9, 2011
Narc Denial in Action
I've been thinking about my last - and it will be the last - interaction with NM several weeks ago in my counselor's office. I wouldn't say I'm dwelling on it, but I'm approaching it with the same theory that I've used to stay sober.
We say in recovery, and I believe, that the best way to avoid the next drunk is to vividly remember the last one. At first, when I was newly sober, I couldn't understand this. So close to an alcoholic bottom, why would anyone want to remember that incomprehensible demoralization? I wanted to run as far and fast from it as I could!
Eventually I came to understand the concept, though, that if I could keep in mind exactly how I'd gotten to that painful end, it would be easier to pick up the tools that would keep me from that path again. Fear can be an excellent motivator, after all, and fear of the hell that I'd ended up in has at times served to keep me on the right path when my more intellectual tools have failed. It's a temporary jolt, for sure, that doesn't create any real growth, but it zaps me back onto the path of the right direction in a hurry.
So, replaying some of that last conversation has been part of my work for the past couple of weeks as I firm up my plan of action. With a little bit of research and a bit of reflection, it's amazing how transparent some of NM's manipulations are. How could I ever have trusted her? I think. But the answer, of course, is that I was trained from day one to do just that. I was fed healthy doses of bullshit instead of the mother's milk that I didn't get, and it's natural that it's taken me years of re-learning to flush all that life-sucking, confusion-making crap from my system.
I present here for your reading pleasure some of the more glaring highlights of Narc-y Crazymaking from that session, in loose chronological order.
She talked for the first ten minutes without stop about what she wanted. "A normal relationship," she said. "It just means so much to me that you came to see me in the hospital, and to know that you still loved me. I almost died, and that's given me some perspective."
So, again, it's all about NM. Her addictions and attention-seeking landed her in ICU with failing kidneys and double pneumonia, which she'd allowed to go untreated for too long, so had to have a breathing tube inserted. Add to this the fact that - without her primary doc handing her hydrocodone and methadone like candy - she was in physical withdrawal and detox from the heavy narcotic doses she's been bellied up to for almost fourteen years. The truth is that she almost ended her own life with her choices, but in NMLand, this means that she 'almost died.' And it's given her 'perspective.'
On what, exactly, I wonder? Is that like, oh my, I almost lost the battle for Vanci's soul before Satan welcomed me home? Or is it like, hmmm, if I die without Vanci and her DD's at my side, everyone I know will know that I wasn't a good mother or grandmother?
I can't believe that it was true life-changing, mindset-altering perspective, and here's why:
"I just want a normal relationship."
Huh, normal. This from the woman who defined normal as allowing all three of her children to be bent over a couch, bare-assed, and whipped with a leather belt up to thirty smacks because one of her children had chosen to crawl under the table to get out of the booth at a rare restaurant dinner rather than ask to be excused. Yes, really. YB was three at the time and still a pretty 'normal' little boy. He crawled under the table. We had our food packed up to go and endured the rage of EF all the way home (fully supported by NM's silence,) where we were then lined up for a major 'whipping.' We were around three, five and nine years old at the time, and even thtough the punishment didn't fit the 'crime,' and all three of us were subjected to an abusive tirade and physical violence when only one of us had done anything even remotely wrong (which still wouldn't have deserved that type of treatment anyway,) we were told by both EF (when he finally lowered the belt) and NM (when she finally said anything,) that it 'was for our own good.' Normal? I think not.
Our 'normal' relationship prior to the Vanci Revolution went like this: she got what she wanted from me, when she wanted it, without question from or compensation to me. I got whatever she felt like giving me, which was little if nothing on a good day, and I was supposed to be grateful for that. No matter how well I followed her rules, even then, I was still unacceptable; I was 'difficult.'
So what she really meant by 'normal' was this; it was high time for me to re-enter the relationship she wanted, because she was running low on Narc Supply.
Evidence: "...you still loved me." Ah, I get it! So you think that since I showed up and told you I loved you, you're back in control. The Victim Supreme rides again! Despite the fact that I never claimed not to love her, the statement just places the focus back on target where she wants it to be. It dismisses the fact that our estrangement was caused by her choices and actions, and makes the entire fight for survival that I've had to wage my entire life a question of whether I love her or not. What ego! What classic Narc self-centeredness!
She eventually said this, "I just remember that you and I were really close and we had a lot of good times together... I know it wasn't perfect, but I thought we got along really well."
After I picked myself up off the floor by this outright lie about our history together, I responded in a way that I thought was mature and honest, "NM, I do have some good memories, but I have to be honest. Most of my memories and experiences center around my having to take care of everyone in the family, whether I wanted to or not. I have memories of being abused and taken advantage of, of being screamed at and told it was my fault, of being forced to lie to protect the Family at my own cost, of the $15,000 YB borrowed and hasn't ever paid back, of supporting OS financially and emotionally and having her call to scream at me in the middle of the night in return, of being used for my truck and other possessions and of being made the scapegoat in the family. Most of my memories are about me being used."
"Well, I can't be responsible for anyone else's actions! And all YB has ever said about the money is that he wants to pay you back! And with OS, well, you know some people in our family are more forgiving than others!" Here she's doing some swift blame-shifting. She ignores that fact that she has been the primary user of Vanci, and has no compunction about throwing the other (non-present) members of the FOO under the bus. She's also in complete denial of the fact that she, on many occasions, sicked the Minions and FOO on me; when they attacked, much of the time, they were simply doing her bidding. She's exonorating GC YB, because it's perfectly acceptable for him to have owed me this money for the last six years without paying back a dime, don'tcha know, because he wants to pay it back.
And then, classic and true to form, the blame shifts back to me - it's about forgiving me. Wow.
I cut her off at this point and said, "I need to stop you and tell you that I completely stand by the decisions that I have made to limit and cut off contact with you all. I made a good decision with my husband to create safety from you for myself and my children, and I have ABSOLUTELY no interest in seeking your forgiveness. I haven't done anything that requires it."
This stopped her for a minute. Scapegoat Vanci never would have been so clear and direct with her statement of non-guilt. Scapegoat Vanci would have been looking for forgiveness. I wasn't Scapegoat Vanci anymore though, and this direct refutation of a manipulation threw NM for a serious loop. It took her a minute to come up with this;
"Well, maybe forgiveness isn't the right word."
Bwahahahahahahaha! Yeah, 'maybe' it isn't!
She chose thismoment to bring up 'what a difficult child I was,' by saying, "Well, you know, Vanci, you haven't just been used. We've had to bail you out plenty of times."
I stopped her again and asked, "Are you talking about when I was a teenager? Or when I was going through my divorce of the man you pushed me to marry who was abusive in every way possible? Are those the bailouts you're talking about?"
"Because if we're going to talk about that, NM, then we're going to talk about why I got in the trouble that I did." I proceeded to bring up my revelation of sexual abuse by EF when I was thirteen and her absolute botch of a job in helping me to deal with it. (Actually, it wasn't a botched job, it was a carefully executed manipulation to kill my soul while keeping up appearances and guaranteeing her that her life wouldn't change.)
"We're going to have to talk about the fact that I went from a straight A student who'd skipped the 8th grade to that scared little girl who asked you to protect her. And we're going to have to talk about the fact that when you failed to protect me to save your own ass, it took three months for me to find drugs, alcohol and sex. That slippery slope is one that you put me on, NM, and gave me a shove down."
"Well, I know you won't believe me, but I just don't remember any of that."
Wow.
How does a mother not remember throwing her daughter to the wolves?
To be continued...
Love,
Vanci
We say in recovery, and I believe, that the best way to avoid the next drunk is to vividly remember the last one. At first, when I was newly sober, I couldn't understand this. So close to an alcoholic bottom, why would anyone want to remember that incomprehensible demoralization? I wanted to run as far and fast from it as I could!
Eventually I came to understand the concept, though, that if I could keep in mind exactly how I'd gotten to that painful end, it would be easier to pick up the tools that would keep me from that path again. Fear can be an excellent motivator, after all, and fear of the hell that I'd ended up in has at times served to keep me on the right path when my more intellectual tools have failed. It's a temporary jolt, for sure, that doesn't create any real growth, but it zaps me back onto the path of the right direction in a hurry.
So, replaying some of that last conversation has been part of my work for the past couple of weeks as I firm up my plan of action. With a little bit of research and a bit of reflection, it's amazing how transparent some of NM's manipulations are. How could I ever have trusted her? I think. But the answer, of course, is that I was trained from day one to do just that. I was fed healthy doses of bullshit instead of the mother's milk that I didn't get, and it's natural that it's taken me years of re-learning to flush all that life-sucking, confusion-making crap from my system.
I present here for your reading pleasure some of the more glaring highlights of Narc-y Crazymaking from that session, in loose chronological order.
She talked for the first ten minutes without stop about what she wanted. "A normal relationship," she said. "It just means so much to me that you came to see me in the hospital, and to know that you still loved me. I almost died, and that's given me some perspective."
So, again, it's all about NM. Her addictions and attention-seeking landed her in ICU with failing kidneys and double pneumonia, which she'd allowed to go untreated for too long, so had to have a breathing tube inserted. Add to this the fact that - without her primary doc handing her hydrocodone and methadone like candy - she was in physical withdrawal and detox from the heavy narcotic doses she's been bellied up to for almost fourteen years. The truth is that she almost ended her own life with her choices, but in NMLand, this means that she 'almost died.' And it's given her 'perspective.'
On what, exactly, I wonder? Is that like, oh my, I almost lost the battle for Vanci's soul before Satan welcomed me home? Or is it like, hmmm, if I die without Vanci and her DD's at my side, everyone I know will know that I wasn't a good mother or grandmother?
I can't believe that it was true life-changing, mindset-altering perspective, and here's why:
"I just want a normal relationship."
Huh, normal. This from the woman who defined normal as allowing all three of her children to be bent over a couch, bare-assed, and whipped with a leather belt up to thirty smacks because one of her children had chosen to crawl under the table to get out of the booth at a rare restaurant dinner rather than ask to be excused. Yes, really. YB was three at the time and still a pretty 'normal' little boy. He crawled under the table. We had our food packed up to go and endured the rage of EF all the way home (fully supported by NM's silence,) where we were then lined up for a major 'whipping.' We were around three, five and nine years old at the time, and even thtough the punishment didn't fit the 'crime,' and all three of us were subjected to an abusive tirade and physical violence when only one of us had done anything even remotely wrong (which still wouldn't have deserved that type of treatment anyway,) we were told by both EF (when he finally lowered the belt) and NM (when she finally said anything,) that it 'was for our own good.' Normal? I think not.
Our 'normal' relationship prior to the Vanci Revolution went like this: she got what she wanted from me, when she wanted it, without question from or compensation to me. I got whatever she felt like giving me, which was little if nothing on a good day, and I was supposed to be grateful for that. No matter how well I followed her rules, even then, I was still unacceptable; I was 'difficult.'
So what she really meant by 'normal' was this; it was high time for me to re-enter the relationship she wanted, because she was running low on Narc Supply.
Evidence: "...you still loved me." Ah, I get it! So you think that since I showed up and told you I loved you, you're back in control. The Victim Supreme rides again! Despite the fact that I never claimed not to love her, the statement just places the focus back on target where she wants it to be. It dismisses the fact that our estrangement was caused by her choices and actions, and makes the entire fight for survival that I've had to wage my entire life a question of whether I love her or not. What ego! What classic Narc self-centeredness!
She eventually said this, "I just remember that you and I were really close and we had a lot of good times together... I know it wasn't perfect, but I thought we got along really well."
After I picked myself up off the floor by this outright lie about our history together, I responded in a way that I thought was mature and honest, "NM, I do have some good memories, but I have to be honest. Most of my memories and experiences center around my having to take care of everyone in the family, whether I wanted to or not. I have memories of being abused and taken advantage of, of being screamed at and told it was my fault, of being forced to lie to protect the Family at my own cost, of the $15,000 YB borrowed and hasn't ever paid back, of supporting OS financially and emotionally and having her call to scream at me in the middle of the night in return, of being used for my truck and other possessions and of being made the scapegoat in the family. Most of my memories are about me being used."
"Well, I can't be responsible for anyone else's actions! And all YB has ever said about the money is that he wants to pay you back! And with OS, well, you know some people in our family are more forgiving than others!" Here she's doing some swift blame-shifting. She ignores that fact that she has been the primary user of Vanci, and has no compunction about throwing the other (non-present) members of the FOO under the bus. She's also in complete denial of the fact that she, on many occasions, sicked the Minions and FOO on me; when they attacked, much of the time, they were simply doing her bidding. She's exonorating GC YB, because it's perfectly acceptable for him to have owed me this money for the last six years without paying back a dime, don'tcha know, because he wants to pay it back.
And then, classic and true to form, the blame shifts back to me - it's about forgiving me. Wow.
I cut her off at this point and said, "I need to stop you and tell you that I completely stand by the decisions that I have made to limit and cut off contact with you all. I made a good decision with my husband to create safety from you for myself and my children, and I have ABSOLUTELY no interest in seeking your forgiveness. I haven't done anything that requires it."
This stopped her for a minute. Scapegoat Vanci never would have been so clear and direct with her statement of non-guilt. Scapegoat Vanci would have been looking for forgiveness. I wasn't Scapegoat Vanci anymore though, and this direct refutation of a manipulation threw NM for a serious loop. It took her a minute to come up with this;
"Well, maybe forgiveness isn't the right word."
Bwahahahahahahaha! Yeah, 'maybe' it isn't!
She chose thismoment to bring up 'what a difficult child I was,' by saying, "Well, you know, Vanci, you haven't just been used. We've had to bail you out plenty of times."
I stopped her again and asked, "Are you talking about when I was a teenager? Or when I was going through my divorce of the man you pushed me to marry who was abusive in every way possible? Are those the bailouts you're talking about?"
"Because if we're going to talk about that, NM, then we're going to talk about why I got in the trouble that I did." I proceeded to bring up my revelation of sexual abuse by EF when I was thirteen and her absolute botch of a job in helping me to deal with it. (Actually, it wasn't a botched job, it was a carefully executed manipulation to kill my soul while keeping up appearances and guaranteeing her that her life wouldn't change.)
"We're going to have to talk about the fact that I went from a straight A student who'd skipped the 8th grade to that scared little girl who asked you to protect her. And we're going to have to talk about the fact that when you failed to protect me to save your own ass, it took three months for me to find drugs, alcohol and sex. That slippery slope is one that you put me on, NM, and gave me a shove down."
"Well, I know you won't believe me, but I just don't remember any of that."
Wow.
How does a mother not remember throwing her daughter to the wolves?
To be continued...
Love,
Vanci
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Holding Boundaries
I was inspired by a recent post on Upsi's "You Don't Have to Dance for Them" blog to document my often-used process for making and keeping safe boundaries. In the four years that I have been NC with my entire FOO, I've had to get very, very good at drawing, keeping and holding boundaries with them. Apart from the pervasive Narc tendencies to push, then push, then push the Scapegoat some more, I also live in the same small town (about 7,000 people) that NM, EF, OS and YB and their anciliaries do. With no geographical distance between us, my safe boundaries are part of the protection that I put on every morning before I go out into the world; keys? check, undies? check, boundaries? check. I am in public most of the day and any one of my FOO Crazymakers can find me if they choose to at any time, so I keep my emotional tool belt stocked.
My boundaries keep me safe and also give me the ability to know myself, even in the face of sudden direct or proxy attacks. Should NM or one of her minions surface, internal knowledge of my safe, sane and reasonable boundaries is one of the tools that give me the immediate, intuitive knowledge of how to keep myself safe. It's one of the ways that I know right away that I am being violated, disrespected and treated poorly and that I have every right to defend myself by choosing not to engage.
Having boundaries firmly in place allows me to say, calmly and with dignity, "As I've said, I have no interest in discussing this with you," and to head for an exit.
I'm a thinker and a system-designer in everything I do. I see organizational layers where other people see messes, so it follows that I've condensed this very important part of my life (or my defense system, really) into a few bullet points.
When faced with a situation that screams for boundaries to be set, I ask myself these questions:
1. Is this a reasonable boundary?
Reasonable or unreasonable isn't an issue of how I feel about it, how comfortable I am with it or, in the early days, how I thought it would be received. It's really a logistical question. For example, my primary boundary with NM has been for some time, "I will only meet with you in the presence of a therapist(s)."
NM's proven over and over again that without a third party observer present, she lapses into blaming me for her faults, gaslighting, revision of history and just plain makin' shit up. It's unsafe and unproductive to even try to have a convo without a referee. So, there must be a witness, and that's a reasonable request. I use my therapist because it's one of the things I pay him for and he's a safe ally to me. She's welcome to bring her therapist too, if she wants to make it more neutral. Reasonable, right?
It would be unreasonable of me to set this boundary if I didn't have a therapist available. It would be unreasonable of me to say, "I will only meet with you on the sixtieth Tuesday of years in which the bluest lagoon on the planet has turned red." If I find that I want to set an unreasonable boundary, I have to stop and consider that I'm not quite sure of my intentions. If my intention is to make it difficult for NM to meet with me, then, really, I need to consider that my boundary should be something along the lines of, "I won't meet with you." If my boundary is reasonable, I move on to number 2...
2. Will I be able to maintain this boundary?
Clarity has been key for me in boundaries over and over again. When dealing with a Narc, particularly the one who managed to get her claws into me when I was still pre-verbal, I've found that my first learned/instinctive reaction when I make a choice to 'defy' the Narc is one of confusion... followed by shame... followed by more confusion and self-doubt. This is, after all, what I was hard-wired to do. That's one of the reasons that it's so important for me to be clear - to make sure that I have at the ready a correct 're-learned' healthy response prepared ahead of time. If I've been clear with myself that my boundary is reasonable, safe and that I deserve to have it respected, I don't fall back into my old patterns of acquiesence and acceptance of blame for defending myself like I used to.
When I set a reasonable boundary that I fully undersand and can without a doubt stand behind, I am prepared for whatever the Narcs pull out of their crazy arsenal and throw at me.
For example, using the above 'therapist-present' boundary, I can easily maintain it; it's clear, tangible, black-and-white. Either NM makes an appointment to meet at the therapy office and we have a conversation, or we don't talk/meet/speak/write/etc. An example of a non-maintainable boundary would be:
"I won't meet with you unless you're going to be nice/honest/kind/etc."
Those words are subjective, and pliable language is like modeling clay to a Narc; they can make it whatever they want it to be. And they will, oh, yesssssss, they will. And it will be my fault by the time they're done, so, if my boundary isn't clear enough to maintain, I have to go back to the drawing board and figure out how to provide more clarity.
If I find that my boundary is reasonable, clear and maintainable, I move on to 3...
3. Am I willing to accept the consequences of this boundary, no matter what they are and even if I don't like them?
Here's the thing about Narcs: they do absolutely what they want to do, regardless of the cost to others, period. They blame, they shift, they manipulate, they lie, they dodge, they justify, they rationalize, they reinvent reality and they selectively listen and remember in order to suit their needs, wants and desires. Trying to pin a Narc down with the truth or reality is like trying to staple jello to a tree.
So, when I've set a clear, maintainable and appropriate boundary, I've created safety and sanity for myself. My Narcs don't want me to have safety or sanity; if they did, they wouldn't abuse me in the first place. It is ALL, really, ALL about them.
When I don't give them what they want, the reaction is overwhelmingly, violently, huge. HUGE.
To have a relationship with a narcissist, one must abide by the narc's rules, which are really quite simple: what the Narc says is the truth; what the Narc does is right; the Narc's needs are met first, middle and last; the Narc gets credit for the good; the Narc takes no responsibility for the bad.
Boundaries that deny the Narc any of those things (which really means any boundary at all, doesn't it?) are game-changers. Narcs don't like that. So they attack.
When I set the original 'therapist-present' boundary, NM told me that she wouldn't abide by it. She couched this, of course, in her manipulative statement that "mothers never give up on their daugters," which really meant that she would contact me however the hell she pleased. I told her that was unacceptable to me and that I wouldn't answer her calls or notes, but if that's what she wanted, she could have it. I hung up the phone.
So she had OS call me. She had EF call me. She had YB text me. Uncle emailed me. NM had OS drop off 'presents' for my DD's at my place of employment. I gave them to charity. She mailed me a package (more presents for DD's) with no return address. I mailed them back with a letter reiterating my boundaries and clearly stating, again, that they were absolutely non-negotiable. She called me the next day 'to talk about it.' I told her that if she wanted to talk, she could respect my boundaries and make an appointment with the therapists. She told me that she couldn't do that because she was 'uncomfortable' with my therapist. I told her that we wouldn't be talking then and hung up the phone.
After another few rounds with all the minions, I was stressed enough to declare the same boundary with all of them. I didn't want to have to do that; I'd held out hope that I could have some kind of normal relationship with at least OS and YB, but NM took my line in the sand and declared war, using her other children and EF as her army. I drew a line. They chose.
Is that what I wanted? Not neccesarily, but I had to be prepared to accept the outcome of my right action. If I'm not ready to handle the outcome regardless of what it is, well, I'm not yet ready to set the boundary and I need to reinforce my support. In this case, I was ready and I defended myself and through that process, I learned a lot.
Specifically, I learned that the people who care about me care about my boundaries; they care about me, my thoughts, my feelings, my heart, my soul and my spirit. And they show me that they care by supporting me in keeping myself safe. If I had doubts about who those people are, well, boundaries create a clearer picture of who's who, when they work.
I've managed to stay safe and sane for a long time now using this process as one of my tools. I hope it helps someone else, too.
Love,
Vanci
My boundaries keep me safe and also give me the ability to know myself, even in the face of sudden direct or proxy attacks. Should NM or one of her minions surface, internal knowledge of my safe, sane and reasonable boundaries is one of the tools that give me the immediate, intuitive knowledge of how to keep myself safe. It's one of the ways that I know right away that I am being violated, disrespected and treated poorly and that I have every right to defend myself by choosing not to engage.
Having boundaries firmly in place allows me to say, calmly and with dignity, "As I've said, I have no interest in discussing this with you," and to head for an exit.
I'm a thinker and a system-designer in everything I do. I see organizational layers where other people see messes, so it follows that I've condensed this very important part of my life (or my defense system, really) into a few bullet points.
When faced with a situation that screams for boundaries to be set, I ask myself these questions:
1. Is this a reasonable boundary?
Reasonable or unreasonable isn't an issue of how I feel about it, how comfortable I am with it or, in the early days, how I thought it would be received. It's really a logistical question. For example, my primary boundary with NM has been for some time, "I will only meet with you in the presence of a therapist(s)."
NM's proven over and over again that without a third party observer present, she lapses into blaming me for her faults, gaslighting, revision of history and just plain makin' shit up. It's unsafe and unproductive to even try to have a convo without a referee. So, there must be a witness, and that's a reasonable request. I use my therapist because it's one of the things I pay him for and he's a safe ally to me. She's welcome to bring her therapist too, if she wants to make it more neutral. Reasonable, right?
It would be unreasonable of me to set this boundary if I didn't have a therapist available. It would be unreasonable of me to say, "I will only meet with you on the sixtieth Tuesday of years in which the bluest lagoon on the planet has turned red." If I find that I want to set an unreasonable boundary, I have to stop and consider that I'm not quite sure of my intentions. If my intention is to make it difficult for NM to meet with me, then, really, I need to consider that my boundary should be something along the lines of, "I won't meet with you." If my boundary is reasonable, I move on to number 2...
2. Will I be able to maintain this boundary?
Clarity has been key for me in boundaries over and over again. When dealing with a Narc, particularly the one who managed to get her claws into me when I was still pre-verbal, I've found that my first learned/instinctive reaction when I make a choice to 'defy' the Narc is one of confusion... followed by shame... followed by more confusion and self-doubt. This is, after all, what I was hard-wired to do. That's one of the reasons that it's so important for me to be clear - to make sure that I have at the ready a correct 're-learned' healthy response prepared ahead of time. If I've been clear with myself that my boundary is reasonable, safe and that I deserve to have it respected, I don't fall back into my old patterns of acquiesence and acceptance of blame for defending myself like I used to.
When I set a reasonable boundary that I fully undersand and can without a doubt stand behind, I am prepared for whatever the Narcs pull out of their crazy arsenal and throw at me.
For example, using the above 'therapist-present' boundary, I can easily maintain it; it's clear, tangible, black-and-white. Either NM makes an appointment to meet at the therapy office and we have a conversation, or we don't talk/meet/speak/write/etc. An example of a non-maintainable boundary would be:
"I won't meet with you unless you're going to be nice/honest/kind/etc."
Those words are subjective, and pliable language is like modeling clay to a Narc; they can make it whatever they want it to be. And they will, oh, yesssssss, they will. And it will be my fault by the time they're done, so, if my boundary isn't clear enough to maintain, I have to go back to the drawing board and figure out how to provide more clarity.
If I find that my boundary is reasonable, clear and maintainable, I move on to 3...
3. Am I willing to accept the consequences of this boundary, no matter what they are and even if I don't like them?
Here's the thing about Narcs: they do absolutely what they want to do, regardless of the cost to others, period. They blame, they shift, they manipulate, they lie, they dodge, they justify, they rationalize, they reinvent reality and they selectively listen and remember in order to suit their needs, wants and desires. Trying to pin a Narc down with the truth or reality is like trying to staple jello to a tree.
So, when I've set a clear, maintainable and appropriate boundary, I've created safety and sanity for myself. My Narcs don't want me to have safety or sanity; if they did, they wouldn't abuse me in the first place. It is ALL, really, ALL about them.
When I don't give them what they want, the reaction is overwhelmingly, violently, huge. HUGE.
To have a relationship with a narcissist, one must abide by the narc's rules, which are really quite simple: what the Narc says is the truth; what the Narc does is right; the Narc's needs are met first, middle and last; the Narc gets credit for the good; the Narc takes no responsibility for the bad.
Boundaries that deny the Narc any of those things (which really means any boundary at all, doesn't it?) are game-changers. Narcs don't like that. So they attack.
When I set the original 'therapist-present' boundary, NM told me that she wouldn't abide by it. She couched this, of course, in her manipulative statement that "mothers never give up on their daugters," which really meant that she would contact me however the hell she pleased. I told her that was unacceptable to me and that I wouldn't answer her calls or notes, but if that's what she wanted, she could have it. I hung up the phone.
So she had OS call me. She had EF call me. She had YB text me. Uncle emailed me. NM had OS drop off 'presents' for my DD's at my place of employment. I gave them to charity. She mailed me a package (more presents for DD's) with no return address. I mailed them back with a letter reiterating my boundaries and clearly stating, again, that they were absolutely non-negotiable. She called me the next day 'to talk about it.' I told her that if she wanted to talk, she could respect my boundaries and make an appointment with the therapists. She told me that she couldn't do that because she was 'uncomfortable' with my therapist. I told her that we wouldn't be talking then and hung up the phone.
After another few rounds with all the minions, I was stressed enough to declare the same boundary with all of them. I didn't want to have to do that; I'd held out hope that I could have some kind of normal relationship with at least OS and YB, but NM took my line in the sand and declared war, using her other children and EF as her army. I drew a line. They chose.
Is that what I wanted? Not neccesarily, but I had to be prepared to accept the outcome of my right action. If I'm not ready to handle the outcome regardless of what it is, well, I'm not yet ready to set the boundary and I need to reinforce my support. In this case, I was ready and I defended myself and through that process, I learned a lot.
Specifically, I learned that the people who care about me care about my boundaries; they care about me, my thoughts, my feelings, my heart, my soul and my spirit. And they show me that they care by supporting me in keeping myself safe. If I had doubts about who those people are, well, boundaries create a clearer picture of who's who, when they work.
I've managed to stay safe and sane for a long time now using this process as one of my tools. I hope it helps someone else, too.
Love,
Vanci
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Not My Rock: The Big Switcheroo
The Big Switcheroo
I keep coming up against some confusion about my childhood. Well, there’s a lot of confusion, but this particular point just keeps showing up over and over. For a while it had the ability to stop me in my tracks, but the more frequently I’ve had to find ways over, around and through it, the more I begin to understand.
About those character and role labels we tend to be quick to throw around and stick on people, especially people we have a hard time understanding; no sir, I don’t like ‘em. Although it’s convenient to be able to share a common language with our current loved ones who (hopefully) understand and care about us, I think labels can create single dimension views of people and situations. They encourage us to look at sketch drawings of memories and life events that really deserve technicolor and 3D on the big screen with surround sound blasting from all sides.
They provide an all-too convenient box to place people in and often rule out mixed emotions, traits or subtleties. If I announce to you that I am a Mother, that will be the box you put me in – you’ll never stop to wonder if I also happen to be a professional sky-diver or a lead singer in a rock band.
If I tell you that I’m the daughter of a NM, you might never get to know that I am also a recovering alcoholic or that I am an artist of sorts. The whole truly is greater than the sum of the parts, typically, especially when it comes to people and human nature.
So, labels can create confusion, at least for me. I’ve had to spend a bit of time unraveling this particular knot... I blog here that I am the daughter of a NM and EF, and that is currently and for the last couple of decades been true. But the older I get and the harder I work to unearth, examine and properly dispose of (again,) the skeletons in my FOO’s origin, the more I wonder. Can a zebra change its stripes?
Because, frankly, up until a particular event happened when I was thirteen, I remember my parents differently than they were after. The event is simply explained, though, it certainly didn’t feel simple and actually altered my life as well as the lives of my FOO very significantly. When I was thirteen I told my mother that I was going to kill myself if we didn’t, as a family, seek counseling.
We did. Now, we had to see a counselor in the nearest big city ninety miles away from where we lived, because we didn’t want anyone to know that my father’s perfect minister’s (yes, really, he was ordained and everything,) family was in trouble. After six months of weekly visits, I revealed to my mother that my father had sexually molested me. He admitted it and also admitted that he’d molested OS, too.
The counselor did what counselors are required by law to do; he reported it to the police. An interview was scheduled for me with my school counselor, whom I’d never actually met, a sheriff’s deputy and a health and welfare child services worker. Unfortunately, I’d made my revelations right before Christmas break, so the interview couldn’t be scheduled until after. I therefore had two weeks at home with my lovely family, and can see very clearly with retrospect that this is the first clear, direct incident of mass scapegoating that I was subjected to from ALL members of my family. It was, frankly, what I would imagine hell will be like if there is one down there just for me. They hated me for telling the truth and they had two whole weeks with me isolated and lacking allies to let me know that ALL THIS WAS MY FAULT! I survived – don’t we always?
My mother and father sat me down the night before the big interview with the police and school counselor and ‘talked’ to me. It’s the first time that I ever remember my mother having and using a voice as the primary force in a conversation in which my father was also present. Prior to that day, my father had been the tyrant of the household – his voice, his choices, his mood, his preferences were all that mattered. We did what he wanted to do. What felt what he wanted to feel. If he was angry, we were the cause. If he was sad, we needed to behave appropriately sadly as well. If he was ‘on’ and happy, then goddamnit we’d better put on those happy faces.
In contrast, my mother had always been a sort of non-person; she was really only ever an extension of him. If he was hungry, she provided food. If he was talking (and he always was,) she was listening and nodding. If he was angry, she was in the other room. I remember my mother frequently in my early childhood memories as a sort of ‘Dad’s Shadow.’ She walked behind him and stood slightly behind him always.
The conversation when I was thirteen is the earliest evidence I can see of the seismic shift that happened in my family. My mother did all the talking in that conversation while my dad sat quietly beside her, hands folded in his lap; contrite. She told me that I should, of course, tell the truth. Always tell the truth... but (you saw that coming, didn’t you?) that if I persisted in telling ‘stories’ to the police the next day, my father would go to prison for a very long time. She told me that we would be homeless if my father went to prison; that we would lose our home and that she wouldn’t be able to feed or support us. She asked me if that’s what I wanted.
I lied, of course. I was thirteen years old and being given the very clear message that I was responsible for the hypothetical ruination of the only family I’d ever known if I didn’t lie.
It changed everything for me – I went from being a straight A student who skipped the 8th grade to getting D’s and C’s in some classes. I started drinking and I had sex for the first time and then went on a run of promiscuity that I am still shocked didn’t have greater consequences. I truly don’t know how I survived the next four years until I turned 17 and moved out of the house.
I’ve recognized how it changed my life for many years, but it’s only been recently that I’ve come to see how it changed the roles my parents played, too. I don’t know the actual mechanics of it, but it seems clear that my parents traded their roles after or during that horrific period when I was thirteen.
Prior to that, my egomaniacal, aggrandizing, self-promoting, center of the universe abusive father had been the Narc and my weak, cowering, voiceless, bland mother had been the Enabler. Then, like an emotional Chinese Fire Drill – they switched.
Since then my mother has embraced the NM role – her primary manipulations center around her poor, poor self being so mistreated and abused (largely by her scapegoated daughter Vanci,) and her weak, fragile immune system and sickness (no real diagnosis in 15 years, but the addiction to pain killers is very, very real.) We should all do what she wants, dontcha know, because she might not be around much longer... Sigh.
Dad’s turned into the EF. He has no opinion unless she’s sanctioned it, his job is to support her and to keep her on that Ultimate Victim Throne. His existence, best I can tell, is allowed solely to caretake and protect NM from reality.
Weird, right? I can’t help but wondering if anyone else out there has a similar experience?
Now that I’m all grown up and have a family of my own, I have a bit of understanding of the temporary nature of some roles in families and support systems. I know how those of us in loving and mutually beneficial relationship alter our stripes somewhat based on the current need; if my DH is sick, I am his caretaker and if I am hurt or ill, he’s mine. But these role fulfillments are temporary and situational, it seems. No matter the short term hats we wear in crises, DH and I always revert back to our more permanent roles in the long run.
The constantly shifting dynamics in a normal relationship appear to be a matter of only little fissures, subtle and fleeting changes. Our zebra stripes may blur, in other words, but they don’t truly change.
In my FOO, the parental roles changed drastically and stayed that way, which makes me think that one of the underlying character flaws of either the narcissist or the enabler has got to be a complete lack of self-understanding. Not an excuse for behavior, certainly, but the more I understand the sickness, the closer I seem to get to relief.
Love,
Vanci
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