Aaaaargh! How do you deal with this?

[GoodPersonEffed]

When I was sixteen, the almost two-year pattern started of me regularly running away from home because of the abuse or actually being kicked out because I wouldn't be compliant to the abuse.

My dad was a cop, but not a protector. He was an enabler. But he didn't utterly condemn me, either. In fact, he once went out to lunch with me after I had run away, but he didn't do shit to change things.

Around that time, there was a girl around my age who looked similar to me who was murdered. My dad was a homicide cop, his coworkers knew me, they saw the resemblance. He had to view the body. He broke down crying when it wasn't me.

After I returned home, I was heavily guilt-tripped by my mother "for putting my dad through that." I didn't have the bullshit detector nor the backbone that I do now. I took on that guilt.

Now looking back on it, such a huge what the fucking fuck? How was I responsible for that in any way at all?

This was just one of the many mind-blowing gaslighting incidents of my childhood, really of my entire relationship with my parents. I don't know if anyone else experiences this, but I mean it when I say mind-blowing. I don't know how others manage such utter ridiculousness. There's such a chasm between reality and my parents' perceptions, and it just feels so weird, I don't even have the words for how confusing and soul-level offensive it is. A lot of my life has felt so weird. I guess there are savvy or grounded people who can handle such bullshit and not feel assaulted by the fog of unreality, but sometimes I think it's because they're manipulative, too, and instead of fighting it, they would have used it to their advantage.

Can anyone relate? How do you deal with this? I mean, I went through all these hard-core mindfucks and here I am still getting caught up in worrying about how they'll be impacted by my suicide. I carry that mindfuck, and it feels like another chasm I can't bridge, like I'm on the wrong side of it, because giving fucks about people who treated me like this and ultimately discarded me for holding them responsible, and then continued to fuck with others' perceptions by using my photo and saying I'm still in contact so that their reputations are safe -- aaaaargh! And what sucks is that my parents genuinely think they're moral and ethical and act with common sense, they're not intentional, Machiavellian manipulators, but themselves were manipulated to function that way.

I can't hate them, I can't get through to them, I can't help them, and I can't stop caring about them. It's a feeling of impotence, and I hate it.

 

[Ghost2211]

I ran away from home several times as a teen as well. I preferred to sleep on the streets rather than be verbally and emotionally abused by my mother, and physically abused by my brother. Anytime I came home or the police brought me back I got a huge lecture about how I was hurting her by making her feel afraid that I was gone. Eventually she admitted to the fact that she didn't give half of shit that I was leaving the house but but since I was still a minor she was responsible for me.

I wish I had some kind of magic trick to make it easier to not want to upset abusers, but unfortunately when it comes down to it these people are Family and it forces us to have some weird unfounded emotional attachment to their needs and desires. My grandma is pretty awful to me and I still think about how it's going to affect her when I die. I think it's just about coming to a place where you stop having them in your head, and let them just be away from your and in their own hands. The more you distance yourself from the negative the more you'll be free from it.

 

[GoodPersonEffed]

I think it's just about coming to a place where you stop having them in your head, and let them just be away from your and in their own hands.

Yes. I have to do this a lot. It's sad but at least it's more sane.

Maybe that's part of the insanity of the gaslighting, that to some it's preferable to live in it than with the uncomfortable emotions that come with accepting reality and responsibility for one's own feelings and actions. When one doesn't agree to function that way with the person who wants to, then it's a huge battle, there just isn't any middle ground -- either you have to agree to the insanity or they have to agree to reality, responsibility, and immediate rather than postponed (preferably eternally postponed) discomfort.

Edit: I really appreciate you sharing your similar experience.

 

[Dr Iron Arc]

Warning: Long post and maybe bad advice incoming:

I've only run away once from my house in 7th grade when it was just my father raising me. I had received a detention in school for the first time and I feared his retaliation for it so I decided running away was the only option. In hindsight, it was very poorly thought out since my goal was to die of starvation or exposure but unfortunately, I caved within a night and let myself be found.

The way everyone was talking to me afterwards, I foolishly expected my dad to start treating me nicer. Other people and the police sort of kept an eye on him knowing he was my reason for running away so he didn't punish me severely or speak of it for a while. About two weeks later though, he threatened me privately never to do that again or he'd hunt me down and make my life even worse than if I hadn't. I eventually did get out of that household a few years later anyway when he beat me up hard enough for something else which caused the police to get involved this time and custody of me was given to my mom. It took me a few years, but I consider myself almost completely moved on from him. It helps that I can just ignore him now that I am an adult and have no reason or desire to see him.

The way I moved on from him was by recognizing that even though he is the way he is because of the circumstances he was born under (complete poverty in rural southern Taiwan because my grandfather had to flee the Communist Party in China), he's just such a manipulative tool that the only way I'll ever want to interact with him again is if he's got dementia or is otherwise senile in some way. When my mom left him, he was always trying to set her up as a villain for leaving her family even though I always knew that this was BS because he was always yelling at her and was always trying to control her. I saw through his manipulation which he still does today whenever he interacts with anybody. Even though I recognize that he's a terrible person, I don't think myself any better than him. I am fully aware that both the genes I inherited from him and the environment he raised me under have made it so I'm bound to end up in a similar boat to him where none of his children actually love him and he has no friends.

I use my own evilness as a shield against him. Any attempt he offers at amnesty I automatically assume is yet another ploy to manipulate me somehow. Even when my grandparents (his parents) died earlier this year, I refused to attend their funerals because he wanted me to come to his house first so he could give me fancy clothes and probably whatever I inherited from them. I've come to terms with the fact that I am a cowardly weasel who'd rather not have to make the effort to work through his lies so I opted not to go even if it made me the bad guy. It sounds evil to say, but I no longer care about that because I've accepted that it's just how I am. If he was dying and needed me to save him I would simply refuse even though some would say what he subjected me to is no different than what many other Asians have endured for centuries.

I guess what I'm trying to say @GoodPersonEffed is that in my case, the only way I could let go of him was by allowing myself to do the wrong thing and sever the last attachment I had to him by refusing to care about him anymore. Even if he ever goes through the steps to redeem himself I would sooner let him suffer than give him the time of day and I will enjoy his suffering. I'm not saying you'd be evil or selfish by cutting off your parents in the same way. Quite the opposite in fact. I know you are someone who always strives to stay moral and ethical in every regard which I still respect you for. Maybe for just this instance though, you can allow yourself to be a little greedy and realize that what they've done to you is already enough to no longer have to care about them anymore no matter how good they're trying or ever pretend to try to be. I get that maybe this is actually awful advice so you're under no pressure to follow it. This is just how I made my attempt to get through this somewhat similar issue I guess...when I commit suicide, I'll be sure to put all the blame on him in my note and none of it on my mom as I know he would just love to do. I doubt he'll actually change from seeing that it is his fault in a lot of ways but the thought of him experiencing at least some brief cognitive dissonance will be enough to satisfy my disdain towards him...

 

[Giraffey]

I have some thoughts on this from my own experience with my abusive-ex, but I'm going to stick the majority of it in a spoiler because it feels slightly off-topic, speaking about gaslighting in general and my own personal reason for staying, even after recognising (to an extent) the abuse I was subjected to.

Spoiler

I know that it is a different scenario but I still wanted to respond to your open question regarding why certain victims of gaslighting continue to subject themselves to that environment and behaviour. I've written at length in other posts about how my ex-partner and indeed her wider family regularly gaslighted and abused me. One particularly serious incident occurred not long after I had become a father when I discovered that my ex-partner's mother was intending to kidnap our child in order to specifically prevent me from seeing her.

I responded as I believe any right-thinking parent would and said that my ex-partner's mother was not to attend the house and was at no time to be left alone or to be in a private place with our child, at least until the matter was resolved. I wasn't sure whether this was a serious plan, or whether it was related to a deterioration in the woman's mental health, or even if it was misinformation from my ex-partner. This uncertainty is, of course, a hallmark of gaslighting. This particular incident eventually led to a confrontation in which I was strangled and suffered bruising to my neck. My ex-partner manipulated the situation to her advantage.

I desperately wanted to leave at that point, I wanted to remove myself from the situation, I couldn't leave my daughter with a woman who would so readily allow her to be exposed to abuse and to violent people. So what stopped me? On that occasion, just like so, so many others, it was the act of gaslighting itself that prevented me from leaving. My ex-partner managed to convince me that I was actually the one responsible for the issues, that I was paranoid, that I was a danger to myself, that I had provoked her family, that I had provoked her PTSD by speaking too loudly, which is what caused her to lash out beatings. It sounds ridiculous reading it back now, but I attributed the abuse to my failure as a carer, to my failure to adhere to the strict conditions mandated by her mental illness, perhaps as a result of my own mental illness.

What I didn't know is that I wasn't actually mentally ill, I wasn't 'acting out' or behaving in an abnormal way, these were manipulation tactics and damn good ones, designed to inspire a sense of duty and responsibility. Sometimes there were golden carrots dangled in front of me, the reassurance that with just "a little more help" I would be better, that the relationship could be repaired and the promise of a happy family realised, but these were again, all re-framed to indict me as the problem, to keep me looking inwards and ignorant of how restricted my life had become.

Rather than thinking how much it sucked not to be able to go to that one-off work-outing, I'd be so thankful about how much more appreciated I was going to make her feel by staying home. Instead of realising that I was being beaten up and didn't deserve it, I was too busy repenting and figuring out how to manage my pain in silence so the sound of my whimpers wouldn't trigger her panic attacks or PTSD, so she didn't have to lash out. Rather than questioning why somebody I loved would drug me, I was asking why I was so overly-sensitive that I couldn't take a joke. Rather than thinking about how much better my life would be if I left, I was thinking about how much more awful she insisted her life would be were I not to stay.

Then whenever I did threaten to leave or contemplate leaving, there were the threats. The threat to get a late-term abortion; the threat to overdose or go on a huge alcohol binge whilst pregnant and do goodness knows what damage to herself and our unborn; the threat to cut me out of my daughter's life; the threat of the guilt, of allowing her to return to her physically abusive step-father, the threat to make false allegations of all manner of abuse against me, the threat to kill herself and leave our daughter somewhere to die.

I'm digressing perhaps, but my point was that in my case, the act of being gaslighted distorted my reality, to the point that I attributed the uncomfortable emotions and the abuse that I was receiving in the relationship to my own actions, and there was a logical disconnect, whereby I believed the way to stop the abuse was to change my own behaviour, I suppose I was conditioned in such a way that I developed a fallacy of control.

TLDR: I just wanted to give an example of how I recognised that I was being abused, but the process of gaslighting caused me to misattribute the abuse to my own actions. My belief was: "The dog wouldn't have bitten me if I hadn't pulled his tail." but the reality was that the dog would have bitten me anyway.

 

[Antigonish]

Vodka

 

[GoodPersonEffed]

The way everyone was talking to me afterwards, I foolishly expected my dad to start treating me nicer. Other people and the police sort of kept an eye on him knowing he was my reason for running away so he didn't punish me severely or speak of it for a while. About two weeks later though, he threatened me privately never to do that again or he'd hunt me down and make my life even worse than if I hadn't.

Long response in return.

I really appreciate your whole post. Seriously.

This story resonates. My mother used to threaten me a lot, and give threatening looks. She warned me that if I ever called the police, she'd kill me. She used to threaten to kill me a lot, and it didn't mean actual death, but that there would be incredible hell to pay. I know now it was just posturing, and I actually confronted it recently.

I used my parents' return address for those letters I sent out, and the tracking showed that one is being returned, so they're going to see it. Now, I had originally struggled with the idea of "fairness" -- I knew there was a chance some of the recipients would start avoiding them and not tell them why, and I've experienced things like that, so I thought about sending them a copy, but I worked through it and maintained no contact, let them deal with the natural consequences of their actions, being outed. But when I got the notification they were going to see the letter, I went into a PTSD response. I was scared, so I sat with it. I realized it was based on the threat "I'm going to kill you" for outing them. I reasoned my way through it -- they're thousands of miles away, they don't know where they am, there is literally nothing more they can do to hurt me, they've already done their worst, and if she tried to assault me, I now have the capability and the desire to stand up to her should she try.

So maybe this caring about them, making excuses for them, not being able to imagine total detachment and giving no fucks, is more PTSD, and is based in fear. I came across the meme below, and I want that, I want that freedom, and something in me freaks out a bit, keeps clinging to this faux compassion and faux love, keeps overriding reason, clings to the gaslighting, fears the chasm even as I truly desire crossing it and experiencing the other side that I was led to believe was, as you alluded to, evil or bad or devastatingly (to others) inconsiderate -- even though the evidence is that they give no fucks, they already let me go, yet something continues in a belief that I must love and stay emotionally connected in spite of overwhelming evidence.

There was a member who posted once in Recovery that they asked their therapist something, and the therapist said, "I'm not comfortable with that," and the member accepted it, and then thought something like, "It's just that simple? Someone can state a boundary and have it be accepted without a fight?" Moving forward, the member's attitude had totally changed and they no longer had any qualms or fears about stating their boundaries and expecting them to be accepted.

I'd be willing to be what I'm feeling isn't love or empathy, but messages of fear, guilt and obligation, similar to the threat of "I'll kill you," rooted in bizarre situations that I was hurting them for having wants and needs, being threatened for having them, such as being told to pack up and leave at the age of three when I wanted to visit my aunt. That's where the fog is, the chasm, that someone I love and relied on did something horribly wrong to my psyche and my heart. There's this dissonance about letting go of both love and hate, and just moving forward, free. Maybe there's a deep message that as much as I've blamed them quite vocally, that there's something even deeper, and don't I dare blame or it will somehow send me untethered into the ether, that reality is scary. The reality is that they harmed me and did not protect me from harm, and I had to love them. Never mind that I did not become an abuser and didn't want to, for some reason I'm not supposed to judge that they didn't choose the same in spite of their backgrounds, I'm supposed to pity them, make them the victims of their histories and their actions against me. That I'm supposed to cling to hate because it's clinging to something. I'm so over looking back anymore, I want to move on, and something is lying to me that it's complicated.

Coming out of gaslighting is hard. Thank you for helping me out with your insightful post and sharing some of your own painful stuff, how you process it.

And yeah, that cultural story of so many generations before having to deal with it. My family had that same hierarchical mentality of entitlement for those higher up and zero entitlement to the most basic rights for those below. I've been studying Latin culture and it is very similar to Asian culture in that way, and I don't know where my parents got it from since we're very white. They're quite racist and myopic, I think they'd shit if they knew how strongly similar to Latinos they are, only my mother was the more machismo one. Such attitudes are strong in the part of the Midwest where my mother is from, and they still sell paddles there in truck stops, should one have forgotten to pack child beating tools while on the road. Part of her cultural heritage is Pennsylvania Dutch, which has ties to the Amish, an extreme example of such hierarchy.

Fuck this world. This crazy-making shit hurts too much. It's gone on forever, the violent shifting of personal responsibility onto weaker or less privileged others, and while there's been some progress, I don't see that it will ever stop. Why would anyone in a position of privilege who's willing to be violent allow it to? I wish more people could understand the empowerment and joy of self-responsbility rather than the weakness of shoving it onto others.

 

[Dr Iron Arc]

Long response in return.

I really appreciate your whole post. Seriously.

This story resonates. My mother used to threaten me a lot, and give threatening looks. She warned me that if I ever called the police, she'd kill me. She used to threaten to kill me a lot, and it didn't mean actual death, but that there would be incredible hell to pay. I know now it was just posturing, and I actually confronted it recently.

I used my parents' return address for those letters I sent out, and the tracking showed that one is being returned, so they're going to see it. Now, I had originally struggled with the idea of "fairness" -- I knew there was a chance some of the recipients would start avoiding them and not tell them why, and I've experienced things like that, so I thought about sending them a copy, but I worked through it and maintained no contact, let them deal with the natural consequences of their actions, being outed. But when I got the notification they were going to see the letter, I went into a PTSD response. I was scared, so I sat with it. I realized it was based on the threat "I'm going to kill you" for outing them. I reasoned my way through it -- they're thousands of miles away, they don't know where they am, there is literally nothing more they can do to hurt me, they've already done their worst, and if she tried to assault me, I now have the capability and the desire to stand up to her should she try.

So maybe this caring about them, making excuses for them, not being able to imagine total detachment and giving no fucks, is more PTSD, and is based in fear. I came across the meme below, and I want that, I want that freedom, and something in me freaks out a bit, keeps clinging to this faux compassion and faux love, keeps overriding reason, clings to the gaslighting, fears the chasm even as I truly desire crossing it and experiencing the other side that I was led to believe was, as you alluded to, evil or bad or devastatingly (to others) inconsiderate -- even though the evidence is that they give no fucks, they already let me go, yet something continues in a belief that I must love and stay emotionally connected in spite of overwhelming evidence.

There was a member who posted once in Recovery that they asked their therapist something, and the therapist said, "I'm not comfortable with that," and the member accepted it, and then thought something like, "It's just that simple? Someone can state a boundary and have it be accepted without a fight?" Moving forward, the member's attitude had totally changed and they no longer had any qualms or fears about stating their boundaries and expecting them to be accepted.

I'd be willing to be what I'm feeling isn't love or empathy, but messages of fear, guilt and obligation, similar to the threat of "I'll kill you," rooted in bizarre situations that I was hurting them for having wants and needs, being threatened for having them, such as being told to pack up and leave at the age of three when I wanted to visit my aunt. That's where the fog is, the chasm, that someone I love and relied on did something horribly wrong to my psyche and my heart. There's this dissonance about letting go of both love and hate, and just moving forward, free. Maybe there's a deep message that as much as I've blamed them quite vocally, that there's something even deeper, and don't I dare blame or it will somehow send me untethered into the ether, that reality is scary. The reality is that they harmed me and did not protect me from harm, and I had to love them. Never mind that I did not become an abuser and didn't want to, for some reason I'm not supposed to judge that they didn't choose the same in spite of their backgrounds, I'm supposed to pity them, make them the victims of their histories and their actions against me. That I'm supposed to cling to hate because it's clinging to something. I'm so over looking back anymore, I want to move on, and something is lying to me that it's complicated.

Coming out of gaslighting is hard. Thank you for helping me out with your insightful post and sharing some of your own painful stuff, how you process it.

And yeah, that cultural story of so many generations before having to deal with it. My family had that same hierarchical mentality of entitlement for those higher up and zero entitlement to the most basic rights for those below. I've been studying Latin culture and it is very similar to Asian culture in that way, and I don't know where my parents got it from since we're very white. They're quite racist and myopic, I think they'd shit if they knew how strongly similar to Latinos they are, only my mother was the more machismo one. Such attitudes are strong in the part of the Midwest where my mother is from, and they still sell paddles there in truck stops, should one have forgotten to pack child beating tools while on the road. Part of her cultural heritage is Pennsylvania Dutch, which has ties to the Amish, an extreme example of such hierarchy.

Fuck this world. This crazy-making shit hurts too much. It's gone on forever, the violent shifting of personal responsibility onto weaker or less privileged others, and while there's been some progress, I don't see that it will ever stop. Why would anyone in a position of privilege who's willing to be violent allow it to? I wish more people could understand the empowerment and joy of self-responsbility rather than the weakness of shoving it onto others.

View attachment 51640

Thanks for appreciating my post! And I love that picture you've included too. Glad I could help you process this more since that's what I was sorta hoping for.

 

[ecmnesia]

although that solves absolutely nothing, since i can't provide you with good advices, i at least wanted you to know that you have my support and compassion. i understand you. you are not alone. i am sorry.

 

[Xocoyotziin]

I never had this problem as a kid, somehow I had my dad, my stepmom and most of my teachers pegged early on and I endlessly frustrated them by how I recognized what they were doing and how little of a shit I gave about it, while they were so used to having everyone else under their thumb. Where they tried to make me feel guilty I instead felt resentment and a lot of anger. But it's only in retrospect after realizing how much I may or may not have hurt people by being so extremely self-protective that whatever cognitive constructs held me in place then have been falling apart. I'm sorry I have little to offer in terms of solutions or whatever, and I know you see through bullshit so I'll be straight up and admit that I'm using this post as an avenue for self-reflection more than less selfish reasons, but right now I wish I didn't have to feel shame the way I didn't then.

At the very least you've progressed from having no backbone to having one of the more noticeable ones, as opposed to the opposite. I frankly don't understand your commitment to these people at all, I would have written them off and fucked them up from the get go at that age. Like, seriously, I would have turned their pedestrian antics on their head and asserted dominance over them even as a six year old. So in a sense I think you're right about the fog of unreality. There's no arbitrary connection to anyone that would cause me to doubt my essential and willful disconnection from them. If I did have advice it would be what it always is which is to recognize what's real and what matters over what isn't and what doesn't.

 

[feast or famine]

Gaslighting has ruined my life and my perception of people. My abuse hasn't come from my family, so I can't relate in that regard, but it stems from my sociopath/narc ex. It's to the point where I'm so damaged from what I went through that the sheer thought of being with a man again is terrifying.

I wish it wasn't like that because I feel me being stuck in this mindset gives him power in a sense. I don't want to feed that. But the trauma I endured within in that relationship has me so fucked up and I don't know that it is something time ever heals.

Since I'm focusing more on recovery and actually being around on earth, I wonder if I'm robbing myself of finding connection again. There's this inherent part of me that of course craves intimate connection with a man and I don't mean just physically. I mean, shit, I'm only 30 and I feel like I'm almost coming to terms with being a single woman for the rest of my life. Is it sad that I kind of prefer that?

I have made some progress in the regard that I'm not as chained to my past or him anymore as I once was and I have come out of the fog to a degree, but I don't know. I'm damaged goods at this point and feel I'm better off alone.

I'm sorry you've dealt with similar things. I'm absolute shit at offering advice. But I hear you and feel your pain, even if it's not entirely the same.

 

[GoodPersonEffed]

I have made some progress in the regard that I'm not as chained to my past or him anymore as I once was and I have come out of the fog to a degree

I'm sorry you went through that. Thank you for sharing, I hope you got some benefit from doing so. I've come out of the fog with other people and am happy to have moved on. I wonder why I don't feel happy to move on from my parents. I review all the shit things they did, and I won't take their shit anymore, but I still have these incongruous feelings of caring about their well-being and protection.

I frankly don't understand your commitment to these people at all, I would have written them off and fucked them up from the get go at that age. Like, seriously, I would have turned their pedestrian antics on their head and asserted dominance over them even as a six year old.

It's interesting, I never had that kind of savvy. I was in a regular state of wtf. I just didn't have the ability to feel grounded in the onslaught of the combination of gaslighting, rages, and physical assaults. Other people can figure out how to manipulate to get their needs met and to get around bullshit, while I was almost autistic in a way, it really fucked up my social skills, I got targeted a lot in school because I was so easy to get worked up and I was awkward yet extroverted, really smart and talented but not at all socially savvy. I didn't come into my own until I was around 25.

I'm totally okay with you using the thread to work things out. I do that a lot, too. That's something I enjoy about talking things out with others, it's an opportunity for all of us to figure things out, and unless I say otherwise in the OP, my threads usually don't have to be just about me. This one especially was open to others' stuff.

My belief was: "The dog wouldn't have bitten me if I hadn't pulled his tail." but the reality was that the dog would have bitten me anyway.

Ugh, you were with such a full-blown narcissist. When I read your post it was like you were in a constant emotional war zone. Thank you for your thoughtful post. I hope you benefitted from it, too.

Yes, I too came to realize in my own situation that even if I had capitulated and become who and what my mother wanted me to be, it wouldn't have made things better. Recovery would have been even harder. I don't know that she ever would have been satisfied, maybe she would have, but it would have come at a great a cost. But I think it was doomed from the start. When they picked me up at the adoption agency I was almost three months old (I'd been temporarily placed with a foster woman unbeknownst to my parents because there had been a house fire days before my birth and they were temporarily displaced). When the social worker handed me off to my mother, I started crying, and that hurt her feelings and "made her cry." She didnt have the empathetic capacity to realize I was infant, I'd been lovingly cared for and was attached, and now a fucking stranger was holding me. After they took me home, I would cry to the point I would get angry and turn red. My aunt was a nurse and she said I had a temper, so instead of being soothed, I was left to cry it out. Both those things made me the enemy. Adopting me wasn't really about me, it was about filling a very specific order, and from the beginning I wasn't what was ordered.

although that solves absolutely nothing, since i can't provide you with good advices, i at least wanted you to know that you have my support and compassion. i understand you. you are not alone. i am sorry.

I was happy to see you posted. Of all the current members, I know you understand. Thank you for your compassion. I'm sorry for the shit you deal with, too.

 

[feast or famine]

I'm sorry you went through that. Thank you for sharing, I hope you got some benefit from doing so. I've come out of the fog with other people and am happy to have moved on. I wonder why I don't feel happy to move on from my parents. I review all the shit things they did, and I won't take their shit anymore, but I still have these incongruous feelings of caring about their well-being and protection.

I imagine there's many additional layers of pain you've had to work through since these are your parents. I'm not dismissing my own experience at all or saying one is more or less than the other, but it would be incredibly difficult, which is an understatement, to have gone through abuse from the people who brought you here.

And as always, thank you for sharing your experiences as well. It's not always easy to put yourself out there, even if there's anonymity involved.

If anything, the experience I went through with my ex has taught me how to pick out a narc/sociopath from miles away. He taught me everything I know about manipulation and how to exploit others. That knowledge is useful in that it helps me steer clear of such people.

 

[GoodPersonEffed]

I was just remembering how there have been times in my life where I've spent extended periods with children, and while I'd never claim to have been perfect, I was damn good with them.

In particular, I lived for a month with a family that had a 5-year-old girl and an 8-year-old boy. I spent a lot of time with the kids. We had so many conversations, and I'd always make a point to listen to them and to show them respect. Once, the little girl was traumatized by something, I mean trembling, losing her shit, kind of separating from reality. I stayed really calm, super patient. I asked her if she wanted to do a breathing exercise with me and she said no. I asked her if I could do it and she said yes, and she watched me, and calmed down and became present again, and then I handled the situation for her, I protected her. I would spend time cudddling the kids, coloring with them, interacting with them, and I took really seriously that I was an influential adult in their lives. One day I had to take the boy to summer camp, and he seriously lost his shit and didn't want to go, and his mother lost her shit and made him, and there was nothing I could do. When we went outside, he rebelled and climbed a tree. Rather than try to argue with him or get demanding, I just started walking down the street. OMG, it was so hard. Nowadays, who leaves a kid alone outside? But I kept walking the whole block and didn't look back, turned the corner, and waited for the bus. I waited, waited, and eventually he peeked around the corner of a building at me. I just played it nonchalant. He eventually wandered his way next to me. I put my arm around him, and gave him a squeeze. When the bus arrived, we both got on. Neither of us ever brought it up again, and I knew he respected me for it and appreciated not being punished.

All of this was so opposite of my parents. I was berated for not coloring in the lines when my mother would occasionally color with me, or look at what I'd done. She was a neat freak, and none of my artwork or school work ever went on the fridge, where I have a tendency to put things like that in frames as part of the decor and change them out, whether my own artwork or that of kids. I was verbal at a young age and precocious, but I didn't feel like anyone really connected with me like I make a point to connect with kids. I was, at a minimum, berated for every little infraction. If I had a traumatic meltdown, I was talked out of it, not talked through it, or basically told to snap out of it, that I was being dramatic. The tiniest rebellion was cause for punishment; my dad was much more lenient, and so I naturally would go to him when I wanted something or when I acted up a bit, and then my mother berated him for not supporting her, and accused me of trying to come between them. I was often accused of tring to control them, a total projection that utterly confused me. I just wanted some fucking self-control.

I feel like I'm remembering how I've been with kids as a way to get through to myself that it's possible if one chooses to make the effort. Yes, kids can be super boring, but they're also understanding. I wasn't indulgent with the kids, I was accommodating, and they were in return. Sometimes they wanted to play or do an activity and I'd say I wasn't in the mood or I was doing something, but I'd explaint it to them and they didn't have meltdowns, and often I'd tell them I would do it with them later and when, and I'd follow through, and they were totally okay. With my mother, it was maybe later, or sometimes she'd make a promise about something and then change her mind when the time came, and it really hurt. I was really bored, lonely and didn't have enough stimulation. I never treated a child like that, and kids always seemed to respect me and enjoy being around me. It didn't come naturally, I had to work at it, and eventually it became really rewarding. Oh yeah, and my mother was cuddling sometimes, but I just felt like I never got enough, like I had to beg, and it never lasted very long. I never got to relax, to be myself, and to just be held and loved and accepted. I was made to feel I wanted too much attention. Then as I got older, I didn't understand boundaries, and I got too close to people too quickly, wanted too much, because I'd never gotten grounded, never felt emotionally safe, never felt like I had enough and so wanted, I don't know, to drink up all the love and attention I culd get from someone, and that could be too much for them. It took me decades of healing to change that. And I don't kid myself that I would have been a good mother in my twenties or much of my thirties, I was too stressed and emotionally mercurial, but I would have been a protector, I wouldn't have hit my kids, I wouldn't have been cruel, and I would have apologized when I fucked up. My mother complained many times that her mother never once apologized to her for anything. My mother would apologize for inconsequential things, but not far important things. On rare occasion she would admit fault, but never say she was sorry; that would have been too disempowering for her, rather than empowering to our relationship. Kids appreciate honesty, boundaries and limits, and having theirs respected. Things don't have to be in constant escalation and meltdown mode. I know it's challenging with toddlers, I've been around them plenty, in fact one of my first jobs was working with two-year-olds ar a daycare, but things don't have to be volatile, and they also are capable of learning limits and boundaries, especially when they can sense that theirs are respected, too.

It is possible to become aware and to strive to do better. My parents just doubled down when they were called out on anything, whether by me or by an adult who tried to intervene -- I would be separated from that adult and then told they weren't going to change, I was, and there was always hell to pay because someone supported me against them

How could people who loved me treat me like that? Especially when I was so loving, warm-hearted, and willing to learn? Why did they want to adopt?

Anyhow, no biggie if no one comments on this, I'm just processing, separating myself from my parents, connecting with myself, respecting myself, and recognizing anew that it is possible to be aware of others and do the work to do better for them, even if it doesn't always feel natural or meet immediate wishes and convenience. It is worth it to do that for a child, and for someone one loves, respects, values and honors, even if their personality is different, or their wants or needs are different. I'm glad I got opportunities to experience that about myself and make such efforts, even if they were other people's kids and not my own. I'm glad I don't have kids, because I couldn't end my life if and when I need to. I have a lot of compassion for parents who have the impossible conundrum of being responsible for their children's lives as well as their own, and having their children's needs be in direct conflict with their need to end their own impossible suffering.