tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85730625373920288012024-03-13T10:25:11.832-07:00Breaking the Tyrant's RodMy journey toward freedom from the trauma of a narcissistic motherAdela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-76756322891790564892013-03-27T14:02:00.001-07:002013-03-27T14:02:39.688-07:00What Narcs Hate the MostI mentioned in <a href="http://breakingthetyrantsrod.blogspot.com/2012/08/narcissists-are-like-cockroaches.html" target="_blank">Narcissists Are Like Cockroaches</a> that I happen to have a narcissistic neighbor. Between dealing with her, my mother, and Samantha, and reading the blogs in our community here I have come to believe there is one thing narcissists can't stand above all else.<br />
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It's not being called out for their behavior, it's not being proven wrong. What they seem to hate the most, what eats them up from the inside, I think, is being silenced. This is why No Contact drives them to extremes and they constantly try to find ways around it. They feel that people <i>have</i> to listen to them, that they are <i>entitled</i> above all else to have their say. Everyone is apparently entitled to the narcissist's opinion whether they want it or not. It's why my NM has gotten so pissed on the few occasions I hung up on her or that time I didn't answer and she called my DH. It's why Samantha refused to answer if I was still in the wedding party or not; she desperately needed something to use to keep the communications opened. Of course, that didn't work. I just assumed I was out and didn't keep asking her to verify.<br />
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Which brings me to my neighbor. After DH and I have finally gotten management to resolve an ongoing issue she was causing, my neighbor has taken to being hostile toward us on the rare occasions our paths cross. Before that she had always been polite, although annoying. But last night she arrived at our door swearing and complaining we make noise every night. This is of course absurd, especially given we spent most of last week at the hospital caring for DH's mother after a routine surgery. I would stay there from morning to evening, and then DH would take over until around 10 PM. He'd come home and we'd go straight to bed, exhausted.<br />
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Anyway, just before 11 PM last night she came knocking on our door and DH answered and I was nearby. The hostile way she was acting and talking to him caused him shut down, as it reminded him of his mother and his childhood. His mother wasn't a narcissist, but was abusive when he was growing up. But I digress.<br />
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I've put up with a lot of crap in my life and I can still tolerate a lot of shit. But I have my limits and I have things that set me off. One of those is when you target my loved ones. Do it to me? Sure, fine, whatever, I can take it. But when you go after somebody I love, well, that's a different story. Coming to my door and swearing at us while making exaggerated accusations is something I won't stand for these days. In the past I would have stood there waiting for her to finish and go away, then been angry afterward. Today though I am much better and enforcing my boundaries. I feel pretty proud of how I handled things. Often a ruminate over these things and think of what I could have done differently, or done better. Not this time!<br />
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What happened is a deathly calm came over me. There was anger, ridiculously calm. I slipped in from the side, placing an arm on the open door between her and DH and started closing it slowly and quietly as she went on and I told her politely to call management, nodding as she was making threats to do so. She really should have done that in the first place if she had a problem instead of trying to bully and pretend like sparing us from management was some kind of magnanimous favor she was giving us in spite of our horrible transgressions against her. Anyway, I was calm, cool, collected. It was smooth, I was smooth. I heard her storm away down the hall and I knew she was pissed. How dare I, at least two or three decades younger than her no less, deprive her of her divine right to tell everyone what for! <b>To be silenced is a fate worse than death to the narcissist.</b> As they have no true sense of self, when you take away their access to you as their mirror it's like you have literally destroyed a part of them.<br />
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Of course then my blood pressure spiked afterwards as it really sank in what an audacious boundary violation the whole thing was and just how distressed she had made my DH. That's the anger I'm more familiar with. The deathly calm, extremely productive anger isn't yet something I can call upon at will. Still, anger is a warning something isn't right and also energy to act on or change the wrong if you can just tap into it the right way. And that's exactly what I did. I protected my loved one without becoming aggressive- I was able to be assertive and enforce my boundaries in the face of a narcissistic rage.<br />
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I have already spoken to management this morning and in my
book this issue is resolved. However, in the event my neighbor refuses to cease coming to our door and/or being vulgar to us as per management's instruction, I've already looked up the paperwork I need to file for a restraining order. My bite is way worse than my bark.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-49814648177968059712013-03-16T16:37:00.003-07:002013-03-16T16:37:50.141-07:00Two Years Ago - The Second IncidentTwo years ago I was really learning about narcissistic mothers. I had finished reading Alice Miller's "Drama of the Gifted Child" and Susan Forward's "Toxic Parents" (which I highly recommend). And two years ago this week I had what I call "The Confrontation" with my mother.<br />
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I think it had been about six months since "The Incident", which I discussed in my post titled "<a href="http://breakingthetyrantsrod.blogspot.com/2012/07/first-epiphany.html" target="_blank">The First Ephiphany</a>". What I left out of the summary of "The Incident" was it was really conflict between my E-Sis; there was something very distressing to me that I did not want talked about in front of me and I asked it not be brought up in my presence. This still seems to me have been a very reasonable request and one that could easily be carried out. However she continued to bring it up in front of me. This upset me and perhaps for the first time ever I reacted much more like a normal person reacts to boundary violations; with anger toward the violator. My NM jumped in to middle of the situation and naturally that only escalated the situation. Over a period of about a week I hung up on someone, specifically my NM, for the first time ever, which became multiple hang ups, and sent a lengthy e-mail to NM and E-sis trying to explain how they had trivialized my emotions my entire life and apologizing to my sister for the one thing I had done that I felt merited an apology. It was a pretty scathing e-mail, but anyone with an ounce of empathy would have understood it was coming from a deep emotional wound. <br />
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For the record, I never received any serious apologize from E-sis for the things she said/did that hurt the most. Inf act instead of leaving me alone like I asked she kept picking at it making it worse. The whole blow up would have been much less severe if she'd just left me alone like I had asked at one point. We'd have had some space, thought about, and likely apologized to each other, I think. But obviously that wasn't what happened. Oh no, NM have to jump in. At any rate, NM and I saw each other at an outside event and tired of fighting I (foolishly) apologized. What did she say? She said she was sorry, "but if she had to make me angry at [her] so I'd forgive [my] sister..." Yeah, great apology there, NM.<br />
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Cue "The Second Incident" and about a month later "The Confrontation". After a frustrating "miscommunication" triangulated through E-Sis about if DH and I were coming up to do a favor for NM and then attempts to tell me (not ask) when we could come do this favor instead, I signed out of the online chat I was speaking to my E-sis through. When I am annoyed or frustrated I like to be left alone to cool off and get over it. For some reason everyone besides E-sis and NM seem to understand that. Apparently NM felt like she had to protect E-sis from me or something, and decided she would "nip" whatever the hell she thought was happening "in the bud". At the time I was just frustrated, annoyed, and wanted to be left alone; then she called my cellphone. That's when I became angry.<br />
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Kudos to me though, I chose to maintain the boundary of being left alone for awhile and didn't answer. I knew speaking to her at that time would be a bad idea, and I knew I was entitled to not speak to her if I did not feel like doing so. Did she perhaps leave a message like any other reasonable person would do when the person they are calling doesn't answer? Or decide to call back another time? No, of course not. Narcissists are not reasonable people, after all.<br />
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She called <i>my husband's</i> cellphone (who foolishly answered), and <i>demanded</i> he put me on the phone. That is when I became furious! Mind you that's not how she remembers it happening, she claims she only asked him to have me call when I was ready. However, "That's probably not a good idea right now" is <i>not</i> how one responds to a have-her-call-me request. That's how somebody responds to a demand, and demanding is exactly how DH described her opening line. Then he couldn't get her off the damn phone. Oh, she didn't want to drag him into the middle, but oh it was just a miscommunication, and the best part of all is what she thought I was being over-sensitive about in the first place.<br />
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NM thought I was mad because they had ordered pizza (which E-sis started regaling me with how bad the pizza was and that I wasn't missing anything when I expressed annoyance) and if we came up we'd have to take care of ourselves for dinner because they didn't order enough because she didn't know we were coming (because she asked E-sis instead of say, asking us directly if we were coming up). That's right, she thought I, her college educated, married, adult daughter was upset over not getting <i>pizza</i>. Newsflash, I was mad that nobody bothered to check with us if we were coming up, that they then tried to tell us when we could up like we didn't have schedules and lives of our own to deal with, acting so put upon because NM doesn't want company (when we were doing them a favor) that unless she wanted to wait weeks, it had to be done that evening, and that they treated our time like it had no value whatsoever when we were doing NM a <i>favor</i>! DH normally charges people by the hour for what we were coming up to do for NM.<br />
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<b>If I wanted a fucking pizza that badly, I'd have ordered myself one, bitch!<i> </i></b>I'm an adult; credit card, car, and all. I have a phone and a computer, I could have order it that way and had it delivered if I wanted it that badly.<b> </b>In fact I have my pick of some of the <i>best</i> pizza in the city where I live. The hardest part would be picking out which amazing pizza I wanted. Hell, my husband <i>makes </i>pizza from <i>scratch</i>. I am clearly not lacking in pizza and can obtain it through a variety of channels. The pizza was never the real issue here, but it sure says a lot about how my NM sees me. <br />
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After about thirty minutes I was ready to rip the phone out of DH's hand and making "get off the phone" motions to him. I was enraged at that point and I knew DH wasn't happy because his tone had changed to the same one he uses when he's talking to <i>his</i> mother. She kept talking to him about how it was a miscommunication. Gee, how did that happen? Let me think... E-sis asked the night before if we were coming to do that thing for NM and I said there was something we had to do, but maybe in the evening. NM asks E-sis if we are coming (instead of asking us), and E-sis says we aren't! Hm, who is at fault here? Yes, I could have called earlier and said "hey, we're coming up", but that street goes both ways and NM could have called me about it instead of asking a third party. She kept repeating herself about miscommunications, the stupid pizza, and not wanting to put him in the middle even though that was <i>exactly</i> what she was trying to do.<br />
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The finishing touch at the end was the text message she sent DH the next day about how <i>she just needed to communicate how she felt</i> and that she didn't want to put him the middle. It is <i>not</i> appropriate for her to try and use <i>my</i> husband to try and meet that need. It is in fact the exact opposite of keeping DH out of the middle, not that he would ever be "in the middle" anyway because he is 100% supportive of me in all this.<br /><br />I'll try to write about "The Confrontation" at some point, but it can best be summed up with NM's opening and closing actions. She said no matter what I had to say she would always love me.<br /><br /><b>Then she literally walked out while I was still talking.</b>Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-8859785583999625612013-03-13T12:23:00.002-07:002013-03-13T12:23:25.764-07:00Continuing AikidoI had a really hard time in class last time. We started practicing with staffs and I really wasn't prepared for it. I have a hard enough time knowing where one arm is in relation to the other without trying to figure out where a long stick is in relation to my body, too. So I had my first and likely not last break down in class where I started crying and chose to sit out.<br /><br />Part of the reason is I didn't have as much mental endurance available because I hadn't gotten enough sleep and my shoulder was bothering me, I think. Then I was getting too warm because of the sun coming in the window on me, which always makes me uncomfortable/nauseated. Once the tears start I can't stop them, I can't see clearly, and I can't focus my mind. I tend to shut down. R-sensei offered to let me practice on just the first step by myself and work with me, but by that point I just couldn't keep going. Hell, I'm getting teary just typing about it and it's been a few days since it happened. I guess it was kind of like an anxiety attack with more self loathing, but not exactly. It's difficult to describe, but I imagine a lot of us have been there.<br />
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I sat down off to the side in a corner where I leave my stuff and thankfully I always keep tissues in my purse. Truth be told, it was a miracle I didn't go running out of the room and hide in the bathroom, so that's something, I suppose. S-sensei came over to me and asked offered to talk with or work with me, and I told her it was very hard for me to talk about. She nodded and let me be. Just trying to talk about things when this happens makes me cry more even if I want to talk about it, which in turn makes it even harder to talk about. I get in this negative feedback loop of feeling awful and breaking out of it is difficult. Just thinking about trying to explain things kept making me cry and every time I thought I had gotten a grip tears would start falling again. S-sensei came back again to check on me and let me know where she'd be if I wanted to talk, and eventually I was able to get up and walk to the restroom to change out of my gi.<br /><br />Eventually I recovered enough to start talking without crying. I talked with R-sensei a bit but mostly I talked with S-sensei after class. They were wonderfully friendly and supportive. I told her how I'm very hard on myself and how one of the reasons I'm there is to try and work on that, and that I'm used to corrections being criticism/disapproval and that while rationally I know that isn't what's happening here it's difficult for me emotionally at times. I also told her about my very poor bodily coordination and spatial awareness, along with how when I get into that kind of state I tend to shut down. Basically, I summarized the issues I've mentioned here on my blog more so than I have to previously when I've mentioned them to my sensei. We talked about the class before last too, which I had felt very good after because I was starting to fall properly and was even able to start self correcting on some movements. <br />
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One of my sempai who attends classes on days I usually don't told me a few days earlier she'd started crying, too. It was kind of comforting to know people who have been doing this longer than me still have bad days like mine. Everybody was kind and no one got displeased with me for crying, unlike my NM and some teachers from elementary school. At any rate, I'm going to keep coming to class and keep working through all this baggage one step at a time.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-54298800261111776342013-03-06T13:29:00.001-08:002013-03-06T13:29:10.714-08:00My Aikido Experience So FarI haven't been at it very long, and I'm definitely not very good, but I think I love aikido. I touched on the subject a little last time and I want to expand on some of those points and talk more about what it has been like for me so far. First though, I'll be assigning some aliases to the people I'll be talking about, and since I'm supposed to be using Japanese terms in class, I'm going to try and use them here so I drill them into my head.<br />
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My <i>sensei </i>or instructors are a husband and wife team who own the dojo. I'll be referring to the husband as R-sensei and the wife as S-sensei. So far most of my classes have been with R-sensei. The classes are in the evening usually and small, but there are two very helpful <i>sempai</i> or senior students DH and I usually practice with. I'll call one E-sempai. Even though he is very large E-sempai is a gentle giant and likes to joke around that the other student who I will call P-sempai, is always rough with him and that he is thankful we are there so he can practice with somebody else. P-sempai is an older woman, probably in her early 50s and both of them help walk me through the moves slowly when I'm overwhelmed or can't remember what I'm supposed to do. All of these people have been amazingly helpful, patient, and understanding! There are a few other sempai, but they aren't as good at helping/teaching me as E-sempai and P-sempai. But overall, it's so unlike just about every other physical learning experience I've ever had, and the small class size really allows for me to get the help I need and ask questions, unlike when I attempted a dance class years ago, which had many more students than this.<br />
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So some might be wondering why pick aikido out of all the physical activities I could have picked. Mostly, it's because of DH. He is the one who told me about it and why he thought it would be a good choice for me. It's also something I've never done before and is something I definitely can't become good at quickly, so I think it's a good way to tackle my need to be perfect and to improve my bodily intelligence. DH also picked out the dojo we go to awhile back in the hopes one day I would be willing to start. As last year was coming to a close I told him I would be ready to start this year. DH was right about it being a good choice for me. While I'm not sure if this is the general atmosphere of all aikido classes or just mine, but I think the lack of competitions and tournaments has a lot to do with helping create such a safe and comfortable learning environment. I am expected to make mistakes, I don't need to get it right the first time, I'm allowed to go at whatever pace I'm at as long as I show up and try, even if sometimes I'm only able to work on the first step of a move because I keep messing up. I also don't feel like I'm slowing down or seriously inconveniencing my anyone with my slow pace, which is a huge relief for a recovering people-pleaser like myself. Even E-sempai and P-sempai still get corrected on their form for beginning moves we're going over right now. They are helping us learn the beginning moves and by practicing them with us they are improving their form, so we are all benefiting from the process. I imagine this happens to our sensei when they go to seminars and practice with other instructors, too. However, I find it harder to work with the other sempai and feel myself getting anxious and teary more than I do with E-sempai and P-sempai. These other sempai haven't been around until this week, so I'm hoping as I practice with them more that it will get easier for us to work together. Everyone reassures me that when they started, they were fumbling along just like me and that in a year or two I'll be doing much better if I keep at it.<br /><br />Sometimes I talk with R-sensei after class. I've told him some of my issues with perfectionism and getting frustrated with myself, that one reason I'm there is to try and work through those. He's been very understanding and told me the he thinks aikido brings up a lot of issues that you have to confront on your own since you can't take things out on an opponent. I think that's true and I'm glad, because confronting my issues is one of the reasons I'm there! As a bonus I'm learning about how to defend myself, too. All in all, even though this is a hard experience for me, I think it will help me become more confident in myself, as well as help me learn to treat myself more kindly. I'm still anxious, but I'm able to keep showing up at class instead of running away, so I already think I've made some progress and feel a little proud of myself for sticking to despite my insecurities. <br /><br />If I ever have kids aikido is the extracurricular activity I'd want to involve them in!<br />
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<br />Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-49599045739026839862013-02-26T17:21:00.001-08:002013-03-06T13:56:21.020-08:00Perfectionism and Physical CoordinationI wouldn't say my NM demanded perfection from me at all times, but rather that she had selected topics which she expected perfection to be achieved. These mostly revolved around a dishes (see <a href="http://breakingthetyrantsrod.blogspot.com/2012/04/dishwasher-was-infalliable-i-was-not.html" target="_blank">The Dishwasher Was Infalliable, I Was Not</a>) or cleaning in general. Never academics, though plenty of disappointment was expressed when I became poor student through junior high and high school. The blame for that however was often foisted on the school, teachers, and depression.<br />
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At any rate, starting in my late teenage years, through college and onward to today, perfectionism over took me. Mostly in my creative endeavors and school, and sometimes when I'm cleaning. If I got a 99 out of 100 points on a paper or exam, I would be focusing on the lost point instead of the fact I passed with flying colors. On nearly every paper I've turned in, every essay question on an exam, I always felt I hadn't worked hard enough. I was just bullshitting, the instructors were grading easy, my work wasn't the best it could be. Rationally I realize that it only felt like I wasn't working hard enough because I was <i>actually good</i> at what I was doing!<br />
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The things I am good at, I have been good at so long that I don't remember what it was like when it was hard. So when new things don't come easily to me I get frustrated, often to the point of tears. And often I quit. It's too frightening to be imperfect, to make mistakes, even though it's human and totally normal. This is especially true of anything that requires more bodily coordination that riding a bicycle.<br />
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My physical abilities, or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theory_of_multiple_intelligences#Bodily-kinesthetic" target="_blank">bodily-</a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8573062537392028801" title="Proprioception">kinesthetic</a> intelligence, if you will, is pretty terrible. I have pretty good hand-eye coordination, but when it comes to my whole body it's as I said above; anything more complex than riding a bicycle is far outside my comfort zone. The only reason I can even ride a bicycle is because my father and the other kids in the neighborhood helped me. On the other hand, skating, rollerblading, ice skating, dancing, or gymnastics, were never pursued despite my very strong interest in some of them.<br />
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My NM would acknowledge my interests in and mention how somebody else's kid was doing them and that she would look in to it for me. However, she would also bring up everything discouraging she could, like if I wanted to learn to figure skate that I'd have to get up super early all the time to practice and stuff like that, as if I had said I wanted to go to the Olympics and win the gold, which of course wasn't what I wanted. Mostly I just wanted to be pretty and graceful at something. In the end, she would never follow through with getting more information, even though the topic would come up off and on. I think mostly she didn't want to have to hassle with taking me to any extracurricular activities, as money was never much of an issue for my family. Thus, I do think she deserves some blame for my relative physical ineptness. Such things are so much easier to start when you are child, and it wasn't as if I could pay for lessons and drive myself places back then.<br />
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This year, I have begun tackling perfectionism and improving my bodily intelligence. Last year I improved my health and strength by working out and as that year ended I felt more confident in my body, so I told DH that this year we would start taking <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aikido" target="_blank">aikido</a> classes together. He thinks every woman should learn how to defend herself and it's something he's wanted to do together for awhile since he used to take aikido back in college. I also tried ice skating for the first time ever, and though I was
miserable at first, I kept going once I got one of those skate mate
trainer things to help keep me on my feet.<br />
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While it's obvious that working hard at a martial art should help improve my physical coordination, it's probably less clear what this has to do with perfectionism. But for me, I've picked something I am knowingly not good at, that I cannot do well on the first time, or even the second or third time. I will make mistakes and am expected to make mistakes. I am learning that mistakes are okay, and my <i>sensei</i> (teacher) is so helpful with this, never getting angry, or frustrated, or disappointed with me for making them. So I am going to keep doing this instead of running away, even when I'm frustrated to the point of tears, which has only happened a few times so far.<br />
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I think aikido is also the perfect environment for this experience. I'm not a particularly confrontational person, nor am I really competitive. Unlike many other martial arts, aikido has no competitions or tournaments, which I think probably dissuades really aggressive and competitive people from signing on; people who I would find intimidating and would probably scare me off. So unless you want to take an exam to reach a higher rank, you are only really competing with yourself and there is no comparisons against your peers. Also, although martial arts typically have ranks going all the way up to tenth <i>dan</i>, it is considered unattainable in aikido since that would imply one had learned and perfected everything, which is impossible because nobody is perfect. I like that philosophy, it is reassuring to know I am expected to not be perfect and that even the highest rank practitioners aren't considered such. Finally, the focus is never on injuring an attacker; the idea is to prevent yourself from being hurt without hurting the other person. <br />
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I'm going to write more on my experience of starting aikido next time!Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-69881456854958923402013-01-22T17:49:00.000-08:002013-01-22T17:49:18.871-08:00Didn't Take the BaitSo I mentioned in my previous post about spending about a week with my FOO for Christmas. All of us going to the vacation house for Christmas had been something my father brought up some time early last year. Since I don't come up to house on weekends as often as I did back when I was engulfed, I thought it might be a nice way to spend time together. I also felt like I was at a point where I could handle my NM and being around her for an extended period of time.<br />
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And you know what? <i>I was right! </i>Even when at one point I was discussing behavior modification ideas that could help my cousin with her kids, I didn't take the bait she threw out to get us started talking about my childhood and us. For the record my cousin lives far away but calls NM all the time to talk to and for help, because her own mother is way more disordered than mine. I'd say my cousin is the closest thing my mother has to a golden child, especially after she was no longer able to engulf me.<br /><br />I was suggesting the use of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Token_economy" target="_blank">token economies</a> and some of the other principles of behavior modification I mentioned my post <a href="http://breakingthetyrantsrod.blogspot.com/2012/03/punishment-reinforcement.html" target="_blank">Punishment & Reinforcement</a>. Despite how easy it would have been to start telling how she had done it all wrong when she started mentioning her attempts of using it with me, I didn't bring it up at all. Then she mentioned trying to use a token economy, with a chart on the fridge and everything, which I have no memory of happening. But considering this alleged attempt was supposedly when I was three years old at the time that's no surprise. The best part was NM telling me how one day I stormed over, tore the chart off, and three it to the floor while declaring "No more!"<br /><br />This was clearly bait to turn the discussion into one I didn't want to have, even though I didn't quite realize it until I was in bed that night with my husband. I could have told her how she was probably doing it wrong- for example, a child has to be old enough to understand delayed gratification and that's not usually until at least five years of age (even then they aren't very good at it). I just shrugged while thinking that this wasn't something I was going to discuss, drank my tea, and let her tell me more about my cousin's kids. Despite NM's claims I think this would work with the right rewards for my cousin's children as they are over the age of five, but I didn't even bother arguing that point with her, either. If I really wanted to give my cousin my advice I'd call her, instead of musing over possible helpful ideas with NM anyway. <br />
<br />I feel pretty proud of myself that I was able to avoid taking her bait with so little conscious effort on my part. My DH on the other hand was watching a documentary at one point and got caught in a debate with my mother about something while I was showering. Of course, there's no changing that woman's mind and getting her to drop something while you still disagree with her is always a challenge. Even when you are more knowledgeable and are in fact correct. But he managed and other than that it was a surprisingly pleasant holiday.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-11040223256916771092013-01-17T13:43:00.000-08:002013-01-17T13:44:41.271-08:00Been Awhile, Still AliveSo I got kind of swamped with deadlines and the holidays and I have been neglecting my blogs and the blogs I've been reading. Nothing has changed between Samantha and I, in fact we haven't spoken or interacted at all since then. Never gave me an answer as to if I was in the wedding party still, which was unlikely anyway, but an answer would have been polite. I think it's safe to say I'm out, and wouldn't be a bridesmaid even if she begged. I was able to get all my things back from her though via her fiancee. Anyway, this post is going to be somewhat rambling, so I apologize in advance if it's hard to follow.<br />
<br />
Our mothers did talk. However they have agreed we're adults and to stay out of it, although my NM says she did try to hint to Samantha's mother (who seems to have seen at least some of the e-mails) that this isn't just a problem between Samantha and I, but well, the entire group of friends and Samantha. Ah, if only my NM could learn to stay out of things that happen between E-Sis and me, not that they happen often. We've been doing pretty well and I'm censoring myself a little less because I've been discussing the book "Toxic Parents" by Susan Forward with a friend of ours whom I lent a copy to even when E-Sis is around. For the record, I think it is an excellent book for anyone who experienced any kind of abuse at the hands of one or more parent.<br />
<br />
Anyway, the difference in my life without Samantha is negligible at best. It's amazing to look back on things between us without the haze of denial. Although I'm still working through some anger and grief. I suppose it might help if I removed her from my Facebook, but in a fit of petty revenge and possibly stubbornness I intend to keep her there until the bachelorette party do-over my friends and I are planning. I intend to remove her from my restricted list so she can see things I post again and then post a bunch of pictures of the wonderful time everyone is having without her and get a dig in about the crappy party she threw me and her telling people there I liked boring. It's a do-over for three of us, really. Samantha ruined mine and then nearly caused the bride to leave at one last year. A third friend also didn't get the kind of party she wanted from her (narcissistic borderline) "best friend" at the time, so we're planning a big girl's night in honor of the three of us. About the week before dear Samantha's wedding.<br />
<br />
(Side note: the Restricted List feature on Facebook is very useful for those people you don't want to defriend and cause drama with, but don't want to let see anything. Only things you post publicly will be visible to a person on your Restricted List, which in my case is nothing!)<br />
<br />
But I digress... her posts are kind of amusing because I can tell she's trying <i>too </i>hard to talk about her "awesome new friends", and seeing a preview of her engagement photos was a complete riot because they look so fake, right down to the bottle of wine. Did I mention everyone knows about her crazy diet and that wine is something she can't drink on said diet? Which makes those pictures particularly laughable. Sadly though as she's essentially starving herself, her face is beginning to look gaunt and I do feel bad because she's probably going to end up in the hospital.<br />
<br />
I suppose all that doesn't make me a much better person than Samantha is, but I'm working through things and this is simply where I am right now. I'll move past it all eventually, I'm sure. It will probably be easier after her wedding. I'm waiting to see what happens with that because my DH and her fiancee are still friends, so I'm waiting to see if we are or aren't invited still to the wedding, or if she's tacky enough to invite only DH. I also haven't ruled out the possibility of being invited simply because we would be a viable source for money compared to many of her other friends. I have contingency plans prepared for if one or both of us are invited.<br />
<br />
In other news I spent a week with FOO for a Christmas vacation and survived remarkably well! I'll write about that next time.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-17405475201156459192012-10-11T23:14:00.001-07:002012-10-11T23:14:05.757-07:00Game Over, SamanthaSo, Samantha called yesterday at a time she knew I wouldn't able to answer and left voice mail asking about meeting with me in person, because e-mails just aren't a good way to communicate and it's better to talk in person, blah, blah, blah. Her voice was very flat, in fact, it sounded as if she was trying to fake being down, or perhaps was being forced to do something she didn't want to.<br /><br />Foolish me agreed to meet with her this Friday. I sent her this:<br /><br /><i>I wasn't sure when I saw [her fiancee] what I wanted to do so I didn't talk to
him about meeting you, and since it's rather late to be sending text
messages or calling, e-mail it is for the moment. I've thought about it,
and feel that I said everything I wanted/needed to in my last e-mail.
However it seems you've got more to say and <b>as long as it isn't just a
rehash of your last e-mail to me I'm willing to listen.</b> </i>[emphasis added]<i><br /><br />
I suggest we meet some place neutral. I'd prefer some place nearby that I
can reach by walking or hopping the bus down [Street Name] Starbucks, [Local restaurant], [Local restaurant], or something like that. Anyway, just give me a time
and place and I'll be there.</i>
<br />
<br />
This is what I got back:<br />
<br />
<i>Yes, I would like to meet. <b>And I feel it's best if we both go in there
with open minds and not just assuming we know what the other will say.</b>
I think this is extremely important, and I would hope you thought so
too. <b> If you come unwilling to listen to what I say (and same goes for
me listening to you) then we won't get anywhere.</b> I think it's important
to understand that now. </i>[emphasis added]<br />
<div>
</div>
<i>How does [Local restaurant] at 1pm tomorrow afternoon sound?</i><br />
<br />
I noticed immediately how she wasn't listening to what I said. I said I was <i>willing to listen</i>, as long as she had something new to say. I read her e-mail, I don't need to hear the same bullshit in person from her. But what does she do? Directly ignores my willingness to listen, starts preaching about open minds and not making assumptions. Doesn't say a word as to if she has something besides her previous e-mail to discuss. She just equivocates about it, trying to get me to have an "open mind" so she can be all wounded when I don't want to hear the same bullshit from her e-mail again. Meeting's off. I am so not playing this game with her. So a revised version of the last letter I plan on sending her was dispatched.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>In view of your equivocating response, it seems
to me you
have no intention of taking responsibility for your recent
behavior. If you try
to dance around my boundaries in e-mail, I cannot trust you to
respect them in
person either. I have no assumptions, only what I am willing and
not willing to
listen to regarding this matter; and I am not willing to listen to
your last
e-mail <u><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">again</span></u>, in
person. If that is
all you want to do, if you cannot commit to more than just
repeating yourself, then
we have nothing discuss. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I said I was willing to listen, if you had
something new to
say, and you completely ignore that and talk about assumptions and
having an
open mind instead of addressing the matter directly. It makes me
doubtful of
your intentions; you are not listening to me now and I do not feel
like you are
interested in listening to me at all in person either. I feel like
you want to
get me alone to verbally beat me into submission and that is not a
position I
am willing to put myself in. I am no longer comfortable with
meeting you
tomorrow.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>So, thank you for proving my points for me and
for
attempting to violate every healthy boundary I have established. I
didn't talk
to you sooner on my own behalf, that is my fault and I am sorry
for it. I own
that, but it does not excuse your own behavior. My door is always
open if you
are ever willing to respect my boundaries, to take responsibility
for your
actions, to own your share in this, and to be honest. However, you
do not sound
ready for this in either your voice mail or your latest response.
If you ever
are ready, understand that I will not be able to meet with you
alone.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Please return the spare keys to my apartment,
my book “[Title]”, our pizza stone, and if you happen to be the one
who still has
it, my sister’s book “[Title.” You are still welcome
to work out
with [her fiancee] in our gym if you are comfortable, as it would be unfair
to exclude
you from working out with your fiancée if he wants to keep working
out [DH].<br /><br />
Also, [person] had given me the book he borrowed from you to return
for him on the
Friday before last, but I accidentally left it at [Friend B]'s. I can
retrieve it for you, or if you like, you may contact them
directly.</i>
<i><br /><br />
If you no longer wish to involve me in your wedding, I understand.
I will respect
your decision and will not be offended. </i>
<i><br /><br />
Thank you,</i>
<i><br />
[Adela Alba]</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Waiting for the rest of the shit to hit the fan. If she won't make up her mind on if I'm in or out of the wedding before the end of the month, then I will make up her mind for her by officially withdrawing. The only way to win is to not play the game.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Game over, bitch.</div>
Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-31625627482688470012012-10-09T12:48:00.002-07:002012-10-09T12:48:49.734-07:00Post Letter AnalysisSince I will not be engaging in any <a href="http://aconsociety.blogspot.com/2012/10/a-gift-from-friend-jade.html" target="_blank">JADE </a>(Thanks Quercus), I thought I'd get it out of my system by dissecting her letter here on my blog.<br />
<br />
I was going to write an email back and respond point to point, but after
reading it all again I don't feel that it's necessary. <b>[But I'm going to do it anyway for the rest of the letter]</b><br />
<br />
I want to point
out just a few things that I felt were an attack on my character which
were harsh, unfair, and untrue <b>[See? Just like I said she would!]</b>: I would never say that about [DH]'s
degree, especially since [her fiancee] has almost the same degree from the same
institution, and I think both of them are extremely intelligent; also as
I'm looking to go to that school, I don't think that there is anything
wrong with it.<b>[Yeah, now that you're thinking of going there. I hope they don't let you in.</b><br />
<br />
I do not think you are boring and have never called you
boring, and I would not share thoughts like that with people who are our
mutual friends because that would be rude. <b>[Really? Because not one, but <i>two</i> people heard you say it.]</b><br />
<br />
I don't know where this
rumor about the math started, but I find it extremely offensive. I have
never ever lied about anything like that - my mother taught me to be an
honest and trustworthy person and I would never do anything like that,
especially not with other people's money. You guys always entrusted me
to work out the bill, and if there was ever an issue it was purely by
mistake. <b>[Really? You still owe us $100, but you claim to have paid it. We decided it was too much trouble to argue with you about it since we were friends and all.]</b><br />
<br />
The fact that you can even think that about me really shows
how I was wrong about what you knew about me. <b>[Yeah, you were wrong about what I knew about you. You thought I didn't know any of this shit and never would.]</b><br />
<br />
The fact that all these
things you mentioned are what people have said they thought about me,
and you don't trust me at all over them - you take their word over mine,
shows me how you feel about me as a friend.<b>[Yes, how dare I believe somebody besides you. You, who couldn't even keep the promise you made to me to get your cholesterol checked when you went in for your physical exam. You who in the next lines will be lying through your fucking teeth. Please, tell me why I should trust you again? When you're willing to talk about our friend's weight behind their back to me, why shouldn't I believe you'd talk about me behind my back, too?]</b><br />
<br />
As for leaving you for an
acquaintance, the only time I remember cancelling plans with you was to
hang out with my sister when she was dealing with post-partem
depression.<b> [Really? I have messages that state otherwise. Something about how you wouldn't be able to see her on her birthday Saturday so you were going to have lunch with her instead of keeping your plans with me. But I didn't even bring that up, you did. And you completely ignored the documented example I gave you.] </b><br />
<br />
And to comment on my relationship with [her fiancee] seems out of
line - everyone has their quirks with their significant other, including
you - and I have never made a comment no them because it was not my
place. <b>[Attacking the example, not what it represented. I told her she reacts poorly to criticism, for example she yells her her fiancee when he tries to correct her form when working out. She completely missed the point.]</b><br />
<br />
I didn't realize you had so much built up against me - I had
assumed that if you had anything you would talk to me about it. <b>[Yes, I should have talked to her sooner. But that doesn't give her a free pass for her poor behavior. That is my share and I own it.]</b><br />
<br />
To
blame me in this situation for being not easy to talk to is simply you
guys passing off any responsibility on to me. <b>[Wasn't blaming you for it, just stating a fact. I was talking to you now about it, quite reasonably too, and look what your responded with.</b><br />
<br />
No one has tried to talk
to me since that time a long time ago, and I have changed quite a bit
since then. So to blame me being confrontational is simply hiding behind
all of you not wanting to come out and say it, but all discuss it among
yourselves.<b> [Trying now. You haven't changed much at all, honestly. And yeah, you might want to consider how you being confrontational affects how people treat you.]</b><br />
<br />
I never considered you a back up option, and I assumed you
would understand that I had less time as we got older and things were
finally going the right way for me. <b>[So things weren't going to right way for you before? What does that say about us then? It isn't about how much time you spend with me or the rest of us, but the way you act and the way you bail on us.]</b><br />
<br />
<div>
That's all I have to say. As you were so negative in
your email with all of your "I will not" and "I won't stand for", I'll
do the same. <b>[I was telling you my boundaries. If you can't handle them, that's your problem. Not mine.]</b><br />
<br />
I will not let what happened last time happen this time. <b>[Really? And what happened last time? I recall everything worked out and we all were able to get along again.]</b><br />
<br />
You tell me how I can get back into everyone's good graces? It's your
terms or nothing? There are guidelines and parameters that I have to
abide by? <b>[All I told you was to talk to them. I can't imagine how you expect anything to change if you sit around and do nothing. And I only told you what I would and would not tolerate and that I wouldn't be your middle man anymore.]</b><br />
<br />
I am your best friend, or so I thought, and I thought I was on
equal footing. I didn't know it was your rules or nothing. I didn't
know I didn't get a say. <b>[Equal footing doesn't mean no boundaries. Equal footing means respecting each other's boundaries. Blind loyalty is not equal footing and you clearly expected blind loyalty from me judging by how outraged you are I believed what others said.]</b><br />
<br />
If you feel so indifferent about our
friendship that you can say this is how it will be, take it or leave
it... then I suppose I thought we were something different than we are.
I will not just go only by your rules, I thought we were equals in this
relationship and I thought we both had a say, that there would be
compromise - not just me following what you want. So if it really is
your way or the highway, I feel like with that attitude you are pushing
me toward the highway. <b>[Sounds more like your way or the highway. I told you we could talk, even get the group together. But you don't seem interested. If your rules our blind loyalty and putting up with your abuse, then please, get on that highway and don't come back.]</b><br />
<br />
I would really not like to end over 20 years of
friendship, but if everything you listed in your past email is really
how you see me, then we obviously have not been the friends I thought we
were all this time. <b>[Sounds to me like you only value the length of time we've been friends. I was honest and authentic in my e-mail to you. If anything, you are not the person I used to think you were. We literally have nothing in common but the past.]</b> </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
You may feel however you feel. I still cherish our
friendship, and I still love you. If you feel like you no longer want
that, then that is your choice and I accept whatever decision you make. [<b>Thanks for permission. However the choice was yours, despite what you say here, and you've already made it. You already made the choice to end this friendship when you sent this e-mail. And you don't love me, you are confusing love and need. You need me. You need me a hell of a lot more than I need you, and this is gonna hurt you a lot more than it hurts me. I know how insecure you are, and you're losing a rock you've held onto for 20 years now. Let's see how well you swim without me.]</b><br /><br />This is the draft of the last letter I intend to ever send her:<br /><br />Thank you for proving my points for me and for attempting to violate
every healthy boundary I have established. I didn't talk to you sooner, and that is my fault. I own that, but it does not excuse your behavior, especially now. My door is always open if you
are ever willing to respect my boundaries, to take responsibility for
your actions, to own your share in this, and to be honest. In the
meantime, please return the spare keys to my apartment, my book [Title], our [cooking object, and if you happen to be the one who still
has it, my sister’s book [Title]<br /> <br /> Also, [another friend] had
given me the book he borrowed from you to return for him on the Friday
before last, but I accidentally left it at [FRIEND B]'s. I can
retrieve it for you, or if you like, you may contact them directly.<br /> <br /> If you no longer wish to involve me in your wedding, I will respect your decision and will not be offended. <br /> <br /> Thank you,<br /> [Adela Alba]<br /><br />That's it, except maybe to arrange the return of my things and her book, that's the last communication I plan on responding to. I expect some rage or backpedaling in the near future when I send my response. Any further response will be met either with silence or a broken record version of this final letter. Right now I am letting her stew in her own juices for a bit and enjoying a swift move from karma. Her car was broken into and trashed by people looking for high end speakers that weren't there. They even cut her seat belt. Can't say I feel sorry for her though.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-6422963349739988402012-10-05T09:27:00.001-07:002012-10-09T12:24:01.875-07:00Laughing and Crying at the Same TimeI've never experienced this before. I've never laughed and cried at the same time. Hey TW, you know how you asked me to think about what I was getting out of responding and continuing this bullshit with Samantha? The knowledge I made my best effort, confirm my suspicions she was a narcissist once and for all, and that there would be no chance of reconciliation.<br />
<br />
She gave it to me just a few moments ago. I might add my comments about it later when I can stand to read it again. Here it is for you all:<br />
<br />
I was going to write an email back and respond point to point, but after
reading it all again I don't feel that it's necessary. I want to point
out just a few things that I felt were an attack on my character which
were harsh, unfair, and untrue: I would never say that about [DH]'s
degree, especially since [her fiancee] has almost the same degree from the same
institution, and I think both of them are extremely intelligent; also as
I'm looking to go to that school, I don't think that there is anything
wrong with it. I do not think you are boring and have never called you
boring, and I would not share thoughts like that with people who are our
mutual friends because that would be rude. I don't know where this
rumor about the math started, but I find it extremely offensive. I have
never ever lied about anything like that - my mother taught me to be an
honest and trustworthy person and I would never do anything like that,
especially not with other people's money. You guys always entrusted me
to work out the bill, and if there was ever an issue it was purely by
mistake. The fact that you can even think that about me really shows
how I was wrong about what you knew about me. The fact that all these
things you mentioned are what people have said they thought about me,
and you don't trust me at all over them - you take their word over mine,
shows me how you feel about me as a friend. As for leaving you for an
acquaintance, the only time I remember cancelling plans with you was to
hang out with my sister when she was dealing with post-partem
depression. And to comment on my relationship with [her fiancee] seems out of
line - everyone has their quirks with their significant other, including
you - and I have never made a comment no them because it was not my
place. I didn't realize you had so much built up against me - I had
assumed that if you had anything you would talk to me about it. To
blame me in this situation for being not easy to talk to is simply you
guys passing off any responsibility on to me. No one has tried to talk
to me since that time a long time ago, and I have changed quite a bit
since then. So to blame me being confrontational is simply hiding behind
all of you not wanting to come out and say it, but all discuss it among
yourselves. I never considered you a back up option, and I assumed you
would understand that I had less time as we got older and things were
finally going the right way for me. <br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
That's all I have to say. As you were so negative in
your email with all of your "I will not" and "I won't stand for", I'll
do the same. I will not let what happened last time happen this time.
You tell me how I can get back into everyone's good graces? It's your
terms or nothing? There are guidelines and parameters that I have to
abide by? I am your best friend, or so I thought, and I thought I was on
equal footing. I didn't know it was your rules or nothing. I didn't
know I didn't get a say. If you feel so indifferent about our
friendship that you can say this is how it will be, take it or leave
it... then I suppose I thought we were something different than we are.
I will not just go only by your rules, I thought we were equals in this
relationship and I thought we both had a say, that there would be
compromise - not just me following what you want. So if it really is
your way or the highway, I feel like with that attitude you are pushing
me toward the highway. I would really not like to end over 20 years of
friendship, but if everything you listed in your past email is really
how you see me, then we obviously have not been the friends I thought we
were all this time. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
You may feel however you feel. I still cherish our
friendship, and I still love you. If you feel like you no longer want
that, then that is your choice and I accept whatever decision you make.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-52927253300521096452012-10-04T13:02:00.000-07:002012-10-04T13:02:13.563-07:00Samantha's E-mail<div class="moz-text-html" lang="x-western">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will now share and provide my own analysis. I haven't send my response yet, but I will soon. Please, let me know what you think of this little gem! My comments are in bold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
THE LETTER: Subject line is "Hi"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was pretty upset by what happened yesterday. Not only was a floored by [FRIEND A]’s attack at
me, but I was hurt by your response to me.
I know it’s not about taking sides, but I thought you could be there for
me, at least. I know you were [busy with something very important], but I felt hurt by your response. You could have just said “Hey, I’m [busy] right now and can’t talk” and I would have understood… but what you said hurt. <b>Really? I don't think you'd understand if I'd just said that. I think you would have complained about how I wasn't there for you! How could I be so curt and brief with you? For the record, in my response I basically agreed with Friend A's interpretation of events, said I was busy with something unquestionably important, and that I wouldn't be taking sides.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not saying that I’m perfect and have no wrong doing
ever<b> [Which totally absolves me of any and all guilt in this]</b>, but I don’t think I was wrong in this situation. And I feel that… whenever you come to me with
problems or arguments about those friends, or your family, or anybody. I don’t
tell you that I think you’re wrong, or side with them – I say I understand and commiserate
with you. So when I’m supremely upset
about something one of our friends say to me <b>[Apparently you missed the memo, Friend A hasn't been your friend for a long time]</b>, and I go to you and you agree
with them? Yeah, I’m pretty hurt. Especially
when it’s over something so petty and insignificant <b>[She has no clue what any of this is really about]</b>. I feel like I’ve always been agreeable when
it comes to your problems, even if I don’t always necessarily agree with you or
think your response is silly (just as you said you thought what I did was “silly”),
but I feel like that’s not my place and that’s not what you need – you need
someone to be on your side, and say “Yeah, that sucks!” – which is what I
do <b>[No, I would rather have a friend who would be honest with me. Clearly we have different ideas of what a good friend is.]</b>. So, to have you not do that made me
feel pretty betrayed. I thought we were
there for each other in support whenever we needed it, regardless of the other
things going on. <b>[Regardless of if you have something incredibly important to do that can't wait. See why I think she'd complain if I had just said what she claims I could have?]</b> It really stung.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for what actually happened, I am honestly
shocked that it
came to that with [FRIEND A]. No one has said
a single thing to me about anything, except for now when someone blows
up at me
on a public forum – you can understand why I’m slightly perturbed at
that. I don’t think it’s fair to me. As I said, everyone has a certain
topic that
they talk about often, I don’t think it’s fair to attack me for mine.
In no case have I ever insulted anyone or not
come because of food <b>[Really? You insulted Friend A when she was eating red velvet cake. And my sister.]</b>. I’ve asked to make
sure it’s okay if I bring my own food. I
bring my own sweetener so as not to cause issue. It is my way of life
that I choose and it
affects nobody, so I really think that’s unfair. So I made a joke about
it? <b>[It was a joke, it's all your guys' fault for overeacting! I am absolved any and all guilt! She really doesn't understand that this isn't about her diet.]</b> Everyone in that
group has some topic that they continually mention or joke about, why
can’t I?
It wasn’t at the expense of anyone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I have done something that’s harmful to someone, I’d
rather people just tell me <b>[Because she reacts to criticism SO well.]</b>. This is not the first time something like this has
happened to me from this group, and I have a terrible feeling it won’t be the
last. If someone has an issue with me,
say it. Don’t blow up at me over something so ridiculous, especially in front
of other friends of ours. I know you didn’t do this, but I’m just explaining my
frustration with it <b>[I am trying to justify my behavior to you so you will take my side]</b>. Also, I’ve seen
[FRIEND A] maybe twice since her wedding… so I don’t even understand where she can
be getting this information about what I talk about so much, unless other
people are talking about how I annoy them behind my back, which I also find
extremely frustrating. I don’t
particularly want to be back in Jr. High and the star of all the girl gossip.
It doesn’t make me feel good.<b>[Yes, people are talking about. Because they can't talk <i>to you</i>. Oh, and you were the star of the gossip, huh? It was a pretty big school, I don't recall anything traveling behind much beyond your own clique.]</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know I haven’t been around as much as I used to, and I don’t
know if that’s an issue that bothers people.
I’m sorry. I really am sorry that I can’t be around like I was
before. I literally do not even know how
to find the time. I’ve already left
behind multiple friends who I didn’t feel were worth the time after Aric and I
started dating and merged our friend groups and families, there has just been
so much going on that I just can not make it around as much – trust in the fact
that I see your group more often than I see any other group of friends,
excluding maybe my own family. I don’t even get down time to just relax at home
anymore. I’m not complaining, I like my life now – I’m just explaining how
things have changed.<b>[Clearly, we should feel privileged she makes any time for us at all! That she hasn't dropped us! Poor her, always so busy! If she sees us more than anyone else, I can't begin to imagine how little she sees her other friends. Poor baby has no time to relax, but oh she isn't complaining! She loves all the fucking attention.]</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I said earlier, I’m not perfect and I know I’m not always
the easiest person – but I don’t think that means I deserve whatever it is that’s
happening. <b>[I admit I am flawed, that absolves me of all guilt.]</b> I’ve been a good friend with
everyone for a long time <b>[Really? Nobody else thinks so. Friend B described you once as a "friend of a friend" and Friend A has only tolerated you all these years for my sake.]</b>, and I’d appreciate it if people would treat me as
such and just talk to me privately if there is an issue <b>[They must come to me, even now that I know there is an issue, I will not bring it to them. They are responsible I am never responsible!]</b>. I feel like things
here just build up so much and then I get lashed out at, and how am I supposed
to know there’s even an issue if everyone just talks amongst themselves about
it but not with me?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s about it. I
just wanted to get out how I was feeling.
I’m glad you think you did well on your [what I was busy with]. You know I love you, and you’re very
important to me… and I never write these kinds of emails, but it’s just been
eating at me and I wanted to.<br /><br />THE END! So... Your thoughts, my fellow bloggers? If you'd all like I can post my revised response.</div>
</div>
Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-88317232695786367832012-10-03T11:21:00.000-07:002012-10-03T11:21:30.141-07:00The Letter I'm Not Sending. YET.After an explosion on facebook when Samantha was finally called out for her BS by a person I will call Friend A for now, she immediately messaged me on facebook. I explained that I would not be taking sides. She didn't seem to like that and went on about how things aren't fair, blah blah blah. You can get the gist of what she said to me from the letter I just wrote. I'm not sending yet, but if she pushes me about this situation I will be giving her a copy for sure.<br />
<br />Dear Samantha,<br />
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I’ve taken a lot of time and put a lot of thought into how I
would like to respond. I never said I was offended, and as far as I am aware,
no one else has ever said they were offended by you following a diet. You seem
to assume [FRIEND A] speaks for the whole group, and that is a faulty assumption. I
don’t believe anyone is offended, only that they don’t need/want to hear about
it every time we make dinner plans. We all know about what you can and can’t
eat. I’m sure we all assume if we aren’t making something you can eat, or if a
place we are going doesn’t have something you can eat, that you can and will do
your own thing or find something else on the menu that you can have. Just like
my sister doesn’t say “I hate [food]” every time we make [food]. She just asks if
we need her to bring anything and brings her own food with her. We all know she
doesn’t like [food] and we all know she will take care of herself. There is no
need to bring it up again and again.<br />
<br />
Life is unfortunately not fair. The things everyone else “incessantly” talks
about are things they have in common with each other. However, just because you
don’t share that interest doesn’t make it unfair that others talk about it.
These things are also constantly evolving. Your diet is not; the rules of your
diet do not change, the only noteworthy development is probably changes in your
weight, which you are free to mention and will likely be congratulated on, even
if most of us feel your diet is an unhealthy means to obtain it. [Series of topics my friends and I regularly discuss] and so
on, are always developing and evolving and at least one person in those
conversations shares interest in the topic. [FRIEND B] and I were interested the other
[weekday] in hearing about your wedding plans and we listened to you speak of them
at length. Including when you so rudely demanded [FRIEND B] not go to [vacation] when
you didn’t even have your wedding date confirmed with the venue. Not to mention your tactless talk
of money in front of would be wedding guests. It’s one thing to talk about it
in front me, a member of your bridal party that way, but it is uncouth to be demanding
money in front of the people you intend to invite. Maybe you have forgotten to
the story of [FRIEND B]’s cousin’s bridal shower, who specified in the invite “In lieu
of gifts and money tree will be provided” and how [FRIEND B] sent them a gift with a
tag that read, “In lieu of a money tree, a gift has been provided.”<br />
<br />
What it boils down to is no one besides [her fiancee] seems to share interest in your
extreme diet anymore; you have told most of us all we need to or care to know.
You are free to like it all you want, but no one is obligated to want to
listen. There are, I think, no interested listeners left in “this group.” I also
don’t believe you’ve been asked about it as much as you seem to think you have
been. For example, nobody asked you about your diet when [insert example of her bringing it up without being asked]. Yet you felt the need to tell [person] about
your fasting and to tell [person] how if you can do it, [person] can. I found that quite
condescending, by the way.<br />
<br />
[FRIEND A] certainly could have handled it better, but what’s done is done. I do not
condone her actions but I understand where she is coming from. She has
apologized to [DH] and me for bringing this all out on his [facebook event page] and she understands that I will not be taking sides in this. That’s all I
really need from her regarding the situation at this time.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t personally see a pattern of “this group” exploding
at you, nor do I care to pick apart it’s [many, many years] of history to try and
establish such a pattern. However, if that is how you perceive “this group,”
then perhaps you do not belong in it. You said yourself you have “too many
friends.” It is okay to grow apart.</div>
<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
I’m sorry I cannot take your side, but my perception of the
situation is not the same as yours, nor is it by job to fix things for you,
which I can’t help but feel you are indirectly asking me to do with your
previous messages. It is not my job to fix things for anyone else either; despite
the previous requests of some for me to step in and speak to you about your increasingly
irritating behavior, well before this outburst from [FRIEND A]. If you or they wish
address this and your relationships, it must be done without me as a mediator
or intermediary. The only advice I have is that you take a long hard look in
the mirror and reflect on your own actions as of late before you go pointing
your finger at all my other friends again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you would simply like to talk about how you feel or would
like my perspective, I am ready and willing. However, I have firm boundaries. I
will not sit and argue details about who is right or wrong, I will not take
sides, I will not tolerate nitpicking over examples I give, I will not allow you
to dismiss the experiences of myself or others just because you do not agree
with them, and I will not stand for you to disparage “this group” in front of
me.<br />
<br />
If, after reading all this, you no longer wish to involve me in your wedding, I
will respect your decision and will not be offended. On such a special day, you
want your closest friends with you, and if you no longer feel I met that
criteria I understand.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Adela</div>
Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-21849864690243459992012-09-25T15:51:00.001-07:002012-09-25T15:51:39.864-07:00Taking Love AwayI realized last night that I have internalized a particular behavior of my NM's. When she would be angry at me, when she would rage because I had done something wrong or bad, I would feel unloved and unloveable. She would take her love away from me at those times, her love was utterly conditional.<br />
<br />
And now when I don't do as well as I think I should, or I make a mistake, I take my love away from myself. I stop loving myself in those moments. <i>She taught me to hate myself.</i> When I was a child I knew she was what made me hate myself, though I didn't have the words to really explain it. Some how along the way, I forgot this as I grew up and became an adult. Unknowingly I took ownership of her hatred for me at those times and made it my own.<br />
<br />
I've mentioned this in comments before, but it's about time I posted it here. When I barely nine years old, I wrote this in my diary:<br />
<br />
<i>Dear Diary,</i><br />
<i>I'm going to kill myself cause of mom and dad! (I hate myself!)</i><br />
<br />
That was it. I think my father simply got lumped in with my mom at that time because he was a parent, and I didn't realize back then that he had no idea just how awful it was for me. I actually have mostly good memories about my father. Anyway, I don't remember anything in particular that caused me to write that diary entry, all I know is it must have written it alone in my room, angry and/or crying, like I did all my diary entries. But it spells the truth so clearly.<br />
<br />
<br />
When I read that page in my old diary now, I can see what it is really trying to say. "I hate myself because of my mom." <br /><br />This song, "Sorry to Myself" by Alanis Morissette, is perhaps the story of myself, although the only person who has perhaps been crueler to me is my NM, but she's the one who taught me to abuse myself. I really have treated myself worse than I've treated anyone else though. I have more compassion for strangers than I do for myself usually. I need start being kinder to myself and loving myself no matter what. I really do owe myself the biggest apology.<br />
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<br />
<b>For hearing all my doubts so selectively and<br />
For continuing my numbing love endlessly. <br />
For helping you, and myself not even considering</b><br />
<b>For beating myself up and over functioning.</b><br />
<br />
<b>To whom do I owe the biggest apology?<br />
No one's been crueler than I've been to me.</b><br />
<br />
<b>For letting you decide if I indeed was desirable<br />
For myself love being so embarrassingly conditional.</b><br />
<b>And for denying myself to somehow make us compatible</b><br />
And for trying to fit a rectangle into a ball.<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>To whom do I owe the biggest apology?<br />
No one's been crueler than I've been to me.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I'm sorry to myself.<br />
My apologies begin here before everybody else.<br />
I'm sorry to myself.<br />
For treating me worse than I would anybody else.</b><br />
<br />
<b>For blaming myself for your unhappiness</b><br />
<b>For my impatience when I was perfect where I was.</b><br />
Ignoring all the signs that I was not ready,<br />
And expecting myself to be where you wanted me to be.<br />
<br />
<b>To whom do I owe the first apology?<br />
No one's been crueler than I've been to me.</b><br />
<br />
<b>And I'm sorry to myself.<br />
My apologies begin here before everybody else.<br />
I'm sorry to myself.<br />
For treating me worse than I would anybody else.</b><br />
<br />
Well, I wonder which crime is the biggest?<br />
Forgetting you or forgetting myself...<br />
Had I heeded the wisdom of the latter,<br />
I would've naturally loved the former.<br />
<br />
For ignoring you: my highest voices.<br />
<b>For smiling when my strife was all too obvious.<br />
For being so disassociated from my body,<br />
</b>And for not letting go when it would've been the kindest thing.<br />
<br />
<b>To whom do I owe the biggest apology?<br />
No one's been crueler than I've been to me.</b><br />
<br />
<b>And<br />
I'm sorry to myself.<br />
My apologies begin here before everybody else<br />
I'm sorry to myself.<br />
For treating me worse than I would anybody else.<br />
I'm sorry to myself.<br />
My apologies begin here before everybody else<br />
I'm sorry to myself.<br />
For treating me worse than I would anybody else
</b>Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-70791827111276175272012-09-21T14:55:00.002-07:002012-09-21T14:55:58.466-07:00Collecting FriendsI was reading <a href="http://jonsi-jonsi.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Jonsi's blog </a>where she examines <a href="http://jonsi-jonsi.blogspot.com/2012/09/when-you-can-count-good-days-on-one_2491.html" target="_blank">a series of tweets posted by her NSIL</a>, when this part caught my eye:<br />
<br />
<i>"This very empty and lonely creature was created by a NM who taught her
that in order to be loved, you need to have an endless supply of <strike>people to use</strike>
friends; and that no amount of friends is good enough. DH was this way
not so long ago; where he collected friends like insects for a third
grade science project and proudly displayed them for years as a way to
prove to himself that he was special: "See all of these friends I've
collected? They all want me. They all need me. They all love me." In
reality, he didn't have one god damned good friend in the bunch."</i><br />
<br />
I've made the same assessment of Samantha. I've outright said "She collects friends." Even when we were kids, she always seemed to have so many friends. She collects them, she needs the attention, love, and affection. Then when she has won a person over, she moves on to the next target because it is never enough. Once she had reached the goal, you are to expected be beholden to her even though she no longer has use for you. But she is oh-so-sorry she has so many people to see and just doesn't have time for you anymore. She's just so busy, but you understand, right? Unfortunately for her, her next targets is one of my "real friends" and she is on to her. My friend isn't interested in becoming closer with Samantha; she's already been down the road I'm on and we've had some very helpful conversations about "best friends" like Samantha.<br />
<br />
The sad part is, Samantha had good friends, "real" friends". She had me and had at one point, the other friends I've been talking about her with. The kind of friends who would be there if something was wrong and you called them at three in the morning. Friends who take you out for a meal when you're having a hard and sit and talk with until the late hours of the morning to help you through. Friends you can literally talk to about anything, friends who can have a good time just by being together at the moment. Friends who are like (a healthy) family. Samantha had them, and she pushed them all away. It's her loss in the long run, not mine.<br />
<br />
The emptiness inside these kinds of compensating narcissists can never be filled. No matter how many people they try to drag into their void, it is never enough to compensate for their insecurities, the deep and gnawing self loathing buried in their hearts. (For the record, this description has no bearing on other kinds of narcissists, like malignant narcissists.)<br /><br />Anyway, it makes me think of Jar of Hearts, by Christina Perri, which I've been listening to a lot recently. It's more about a serial dater, but the point still stands.<br />
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<br />
I know I can't take one more step towards you<br />
<b>Cause all that's waiting is regret<br />
And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore</b><br />
You lost the love I loved the most<br />
<br />
I learned to live half alive<br />
And now you want me one more time<br />
<br />
<b>And who do you think you are<br />
Running 'round leaving scars<br />
Collecting your jar of hearts<br />
And tearing love apart<br />
You're gonna catch a cold<br />
From the ice inside your soul<br />
So don't come back for me<br />
Who do you think you are</b><br />
<br />
I hear you're asking all around<br />
If I am anywhere to be found<br />
<b>But I have grown too strong<br />
To ever fall back in your arms</b><br />
<br />
And I've learned to live half alive<br />
And now you want me one more time<br />
<b><br />
And who do you think you are<br />
Running 'round leaving scars<br />
Collecting your jar of hearts<br />
And tearing love apart<br />
You're gonna catch a cold<br />
From the ice inside your soul<br />
So don't come back for me<br />
Who do you think you are</b><br />
<br />
And it took so long just to feel alright<br />
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes<br />
I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed<br />
<b>Cause you broke all your promises<br />
And now you're back<br />
You don't get to get me back</b><br />
<br />
<b>And who do you think you are<br />
Running 'round leaving scars<br />
Collecting your jar of hearts<br />
And tearing love apart<br />
You're gonna catch a cold<br />
From the ice inside your soul<br />
So don't come back for me<br />
Don't come back at all</b><br />
<br />
<b>And who do you think you are<br />
Running 'round leaving scars<br />
Collecting your jar of hearts<br />
And tearing love apart<br />
You're gonna catch a cold<br />
From the ice inside your soul<br />
Don't come back for me<br />
Don't come back at all</b><br />
<br />
Who do you think you are?<br />
Who do you think you are?<br />
Who do you think you are?Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-26473743861461833982012-09-16T01:21:00.000-07:002012-09-16T01:21:34.303-07:00You Think You Know Someone...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Simple Plan's "Thank You" seems to be particularly appropriate at the moment. Every time I talk to my friends about dear Samantha, I learn something new.<br /><br />Apparently, she has been known in the past to make adjustments when handling the calculations for splitting the check when we'd go out in big groups for dinner or such. And by adjustments, I mean getting the rest of us to cover her meal without our knowing. Except, whoops, some people noticed the anomalies and her not putting in any cash. <br /><br />I only wish they'd told me sooner. This was years ago and I can only hope she's stopped. Her parents would be so ashamed and disappointed if they knew she'd be stealing. They were like my other family and I know she didn't learn this behavior from them.<br />
<br />
But I can't say I'm surprised, sadly. I won't be letting her handle anything like that at a dinner ever again. Not that I'll be going out of my way to invite her to any.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br /><b>I thought that I could always count on you,<br />
I thought that nothing could become between us two.</b><br />
We said as long as we would stick together,<br />
We’d be alright,<br />
We’d be ok.<br />
<b>But I was stupid </b><br />
And you broke me down<br />
I’ll never be the same again.<br />
<br />
<b>So thank you for showing me,<br />
That best friends can not be trusted,</b><br />
And thank you for lying to me,<br />
Your friendship and good times we had you can have them back<br />
<br />
Yeah!<br />
<br />
<b>I wonder why it always has to hurt,<br />
For every lesson that you have to learn.<br />
I won’t forget what you did to me</b>,<br />
How you showed me things, <br />
I wish I’d never seen.<br />
<b>But I was stupid, </b><br />
And you broke me down,<br />
I’ll never be the same again.<br />
<br />
<b>So thank you for showing me,<br />
That best friends can not be trusted,</b><br />
And thank you for lying to me,<br />
Your friendship the good times we had you can have them back<br />
<br />
<b>When the tables turn again,<br />
You’ll remember me my friend,<br />
You’ll be wishing I was there for you.<br />
I’ll be the one you’ll miss the most,<br />
But you’ll only find my ghost.<br />
As time goes by,<br />
You’ll wonder why, <br />
You’re all alone.</b><br />
<br />
<b>So thank you for showing me,<br />
That best friends can not be trusted,</b><br />
And thank you for lying to me,<br />
Your friendship and good times we had you can have them back.<br />
<br />
<b>So thank you, for lying to me,<br />
So thank you, for all the times you let me down</b><br />
So thank you, for lying to me,<br />
So thank you, your friendship you can have it back
Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-64051045787670796872012-09-10T17:17:00.003-07:002012-09-10T17:17:46.782-07:00Hello, AngerI have discovered anger toward my N-ish best friend.I suppose I need to come up with a nickname for her for blogging purposes, because she's probably going to be a common topic of discussion from now until who knows when. Hence forth, allow me to introduce you to "Samantha". <br /><br />Samantha is the same age as me and we have known each other since we were small children. Even back then she was selfish and didn't like sharing her things while I was expected to share mine. And I did, because my NM taught me to share. She didn't teach me how to stand up for myself, although I did learn to start doing that. Anyway, she was practically my only friend, and since our parents became friends I saw her often and it's probably because of our parents that we stayed friends.<br /><br />Samantha was never thin. She wasn't morbidly obese or anything, but she was never tiny like I was. She has struggled with her body image and weight for most of the time I've known her. When we were kids, she didn't like that I was so little and yet ate sweets whenever I wanted. She hoped I would get fat when I got older. That hasn't happened yet. Of course I've filled out in all the right places and I'm not a stick anymore, but I love my hour glass figure and so does DH. Sure, I have my insecurities, but over all I think I am a decently attractive human being.<br /><br />So since I opened up to my friends and E-Sis about Samantha and her behavior as of late, I've learned some fascinating things. One friend (who I've talked with about NM before and has a mother way crazier than mine) has only been tolerating her for my sake, although Samantha doesn't know it. Samantha seriously damaged that relationship years ago by being a shitty friend when that friend's father was dying. Another views her as more of a friend of a friend. A newer, third friend has noticed Samantha trying to become closer with her and absolutely does not want to be closer to her; she has been down the road I'm walking with a best friend before. E-Sis, for all her faults, can be very protective of me and wanted to punch Samantha in the face the other week for making me cry.<br /><br />But best of all is the things I have learned Samantha has said to other people! She has disparaged DH's degree behind my back for coming from a less prestigious university as hers. Never mind the person she told this too has a degree from the same university as DH and that's where almost everybody in my group of friends got their bachelors degrees from, including me. Never mind that her fiancee has a degree from there. Never mind that fact DH makes literally <i>four times</i> as much as she does and that her fancy degree has gotten her absolutely nothing. It's more worthless than a liberal arts degree, seriously. Samantha had to lie on her resume to get a fucking clerical job. But in a case of delicious irony, Samantha is going back to college to pursue a degree in the same field as DH, and even more ironic is that she may very well be going to that very same less prestigious university the rest of us went to.<br /><br />I also learned the reason why my bachelorette party was so boring and lame. Apparently I "like it boring". I didn't know not wanting to get drunk off my ass and not wanting any male strippers left lame and boring as the only party option left. Yes, she told one of my other bridesmaid that it was okay, that I liked it boring. Apparently they offered to help but she claimed she knew what I wanted. Fascinating, since she never asked me anything beyond what I told her about not wanting strippers. Dinner was fine, but after that we all went back to her place and she had no food and there was nothing to do. She started having a political debate and raising her voice with another guest and had the nerve to get annoyed with me for being unhappy about it! Raised voices are a trigger for me, you see. That happens when you spend your formative years getting yelled at. But it isn't just my party, she didn't know what to do after dinner for her sister's party, either. It was a fluke somebody suggested something fun to do after dinner. Samantha can't plan things well, especially things that aren't for her. Although with what she's been saying about her wedding plans, I'm not sure she can plan things well that are for her either. Well, in all fairness the bridal showers and baby showers she's done have been very nice and gone very well. But those have an easy formula to follow.<br /><br />I almost forget these gems: in her maid of honor speech, she'd had a bit much to drink, but she made a joke about having control over me and took credit for the fact DH and I started going out. The truth of the matter is I just asked her what she thought of him before I asked him out. I'd have probably done it regardless of her opinion and the reason DH and I even met was because our similar interests brought us to the same club. Also, when we were in our late teens and her boyfriend had dumped her and her "friends" ditched her, our mutual friends and I consoled her and hung out with her and cheered her up. Apparently at some point I don't recall, she said something about wanting to be with her "real friends". Guess we didn't count? No wonder my friends aren't friends with her anymore!<br />
<br />Samantha also whines when she doesn't like something or doesn't get her way. She almost caused the friend who was tolerating her for my sake to leave her own bachelorette party with her stupid whining about how the place we were at didn't have anything she could drink on her crazy new diet (which she would not stop talking about). Even though the place did, she just didn't believe the matron of honor until she looked it up herself on her phone.This was after yelling at the bride to be for telling her to calm down when she wasn't getting along with another guest (who admittedly wasn't that likable to begin with, but that's not the point).<br /><br />Now Samantha has her own wedding to look forward to, and from the way she talks, money is what she's really looking forward to. She wants to register for her honeymoon and that's fine, but she keeps talking to me about getting money, money, money from guests. Estimating how much she might get based the value amount of the gifts her sister got, and so on. Frankly after hearing it, I'm not inclined to give her any money. <br /><br />Oh, and she canceled on plans two more times since my last post. I wasn't surprised. But naturally when she needed me to go dress shopping with her, she didn't cancel. <br /><br />Now you have met Samantha and seen some of her shining examples of bad behavior. It paints a very nasty image, I know. But what actually makes it harder for me is there have been times she has been a really great friend. When I had "The Confrontation" with my mother (I really need to write a summary of that up for you readers), she came and picked me up and took me out and talked me through the rough parts that followed. When she went abroad she wrote to me and sent gifts, including a very special gift from a place I desperately wanted to go one day. I've been able to talk with her about my problems with NM and E-Sis and know what I say won't get back to them. We had a lot of fun as kids, too. <br />
<br />I'm angry. I know I have been wronged and I'm not going to take it lying down anymore. I'm going to use that energy to change how I interact with and handle Samantha, and whatever happens from there, happens. I'm hoping for a gradual drifting apart because I'm not interested a dramatic mess, and I already agreed to be a bridesmaid before I had come to all these realizations. Whatever happens though, I've got <i>my</i> real friends backing me up.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-23547873823776066932012-08-30T13:28:00.002-07:002012-09-21T14:56:22.540-07:00Narcissists Are Like CockroachesFor every one narcissist you find in your life, there are dozens more you just haven't seen yet. Well, maybe not that many, but if you have one, you usually find another or so. Having been raised them, we seem to attract them to us in other areas of our lives. They are drawn to us, and we are drawn to them until we learn better. Although it was probably just bad luck that landed me a narcissistic neighbor, but I digress.<br />
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I write this because I have now realized my best friend, who I mentioned bailing on plans with me in my last post, has significant narcissistic traits. I wouldn't go so far as to say she has a full blown personality disorder (yet), but she is definitely a very selfish and opinionated person. These negative traits are being magnified by her current unhealthy fad diet, which is adversely affecting her serotonin levels. Serotonin being that wonderful neurotransmitter that not only helps regulate mood, but also appetite, sleep, and even bone mass. Basically she has lost the ability to regulate her negative traits, which were only a minor nuisance to me previously. Then again, perhaps they were only minor back then because I lacked insight into myself and my NM?<br />
<br />
But it isn't just me seeing this. Her behavior has been irritating all our other mutual friends, and more so than usual in those who I have learned tolerated her only for my sake all along. They provided a fascinating and enlightening third party perspective on my relationship with my best friend. I am a much stronger person today than I ever was in the past, so I can face and accept the truth. My best friend has always taken more than she has given, and I let her get away with it. I just couldn't see it until now. Although it was much milder and more subtle before she started her crazy diet; there would be eye-rolling, will-she-ever-shut-up moments, but none of this severe stuff that made me dislike her and actively not want to see her or be friends anymore.<br />
<br />
I'm not going to just cut her out of my life though, we have a long shared history that can't be replaced, and I know her better than anyone else. I know just how insecure she is, just how much she hates herself. I know that each and every put down, every piece of snide, irritating, or opinionated bullshit that has comes out of her mouth is just a pathetic attempt to make her feel better about herself, to fill that emptiness she feels inside. But I also remember the past year or so she was doing really well, growing up and managing her faults better. I hope maybe someday she will be that person again. So I will simply change how I engage her, lower how valuable her friendship is to me and the esteem I hold her in. How she behaves is up to her, but ultimately I expect a gradual growing apart that will be cemented by her if she ever moves out of state like she wants to do.<br />
<br />
Too bad I realized all this shit before I agreed to be bridesmaid in her wedding next year. I sense an impending bridezilla.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-80506007803192129352012-08-09T16:00:00.000-07:002012-09-21T14:56:56.491-07:00Hair and Delayed ReactionsSo I've been quiet lately and way behind on the blogs I read. I recently went off birth control and my body is going a little crazy readjusting. And then I found out I had bad knees that will eventually cause me more problems than they are right now. I thought they were just strained from over use, but no, turns out I have defects in my femurs and my knee caps are angled instead of straight. So I've been moody and depressed. But otherwise, there isn't anything exciting going on in my life and no new developments with NM.<br />
<br />
However, I'm planning to get my hair cut and a new hair style. This is a big thing for me. My hair has been virtually unchanged since I was little and my mother decided it was too much work to keep the bangs/fringe trimmed because my hair grew so fast. It's not that NM never gave me the option to change it when I was in grade school and onward, but I simply didn't know what to do with my hair. So it's always just been long (often uneven at the ends because I almost never get it trimmed), and parted one way or another. I didn't even know there were hair style options that were wash and wear besides long and simple.<br />
<br />
NM knows how to do her hair, but she wasn't inclined to teach me. She was only interested in braiding my hair because she liked to (and complains now how I often wouldn't let her). She'd buy E-Sis and I curling irons and curlers, but were clueless about how to actually use them and she didn't show us how to. For the longest time all I knew about blow drying my hair was flipping it upside and zapping it until it was dry (and ugly). I still don't know how to use a curling iron or curlers, though I'm interesting in learning now. It literally was not until this year that learned how to use a round brush to dry my hair straight and neatly. <br />
<br />
Still, I'm a wash and wear kind of gal. I don't want to have to get up extra early to do my hair. So at dinner I was talking with a much more hair and fashion savvy friend about what would be a good hair style for me, and telling her how I was anxious and that changing it was a big deal for me. I almost wanted to cry just talking about it. I'm anxious because I don't know how a new hair style will look and I want to pick something that will look nice and that I will like. I don't want to be stuck waiting for something ugly to grow back out. And then E-Sis, who cares nothing about her appearance and has no sense of empathy, decides to chime in, saying to just not do anything drastic to my hair. I tell her when it's been unchanged for a decade or two, <i>any </i>change is big change, any change is drastic. Then at one point, she tells our friend that I'm "afraid of change."<br />
<br />
Which brings me to delayed reaction part of this post. The woman who has never moved out of her parents home has the nerve to tell me that <i>I'm</i> afraid of change? Me, who has moved out, married, and traveled out of the country, is<i> afraid of change?</i> But I didn't react to that at all until DH and I left and he mentioned it. It would have hit me the next day on my own, he just sped up the process. Anyway, I seem to have delayed reaction to things that should make me angry or hurt. It's like I don't notice it right away, not until I examine things after the fact. Obliviously I smile and nod until later I realize that I'm offended. I don't know why it happens. <br />
<br />
Perfect example: the other day a friend cancelled plans for this weekend that were made two weeks ago, because there's a surprise birthday party for a friend. Then she explains yesterday its for a person she's trying to become with friends with!? I was all like "Okay, cool" but today I realized that really stings! I could have done without my friend giving me that much detail about the reason. So becoming friends with that person is more important than honoring a prior engagement with an older friend? What am I, second string? Sure, Adela has and will always be there, right? She'll be the fallback when you've got nothing else going on? She won't mind, she's always so accommodating!<br />
<br />
Well not anymore, that's going on your permanent record, friend. Next time something like this happens I won't be so accommodating and I'll call you out your rudeness.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-37713586761482278642012-07-13T15:46:00.000-07:002013-03-16T16:33:23.709-07:00The First EpiphanyMy first epiphany regarding my mother wasn't when I connected her with NPD. It came after a series of events too specific and identifying for me to be comfortable posting. In sum, a very important family decision was made with out me, I was given incorrect information by NM, and when I tried to discuss different options based on the incorrect information, I became the bad guy. To be fair I was acutely aware of being the dissenter and was on hyper alert for signs of attack. As such, I readily admit I am not entirely blameless in the situation that followed. Ironically, the initial ensuing conflict regarding my dissent did not directly involve NM, but she threw herself into because she loves to be a martyr. This, "The Incident" as I like to call it, was the beginning of the path that would lead up to "The Confrontation". If you are interested in the details of said event(s), you are welcome to e-mail me for more information and if I feel confident you are in no way associated with my family I'll share the whole blown out of proportion mess, the two straws that broke the camel's back, so to speak. <br />
<br />
After basically being told what a horrible person I was and having my pain and suffering utterly invalidated by NM (story of my life), I had the epiphany over dinner with my best friend. The words of a wise professor came floating back to me. I don't remember
them exactly, but it was something along the lines of "When somebody
tells you to stop crying or you're being too sensitive, it's because <i>they</i> can't handle your feelings." That your feelings are yours and they can't be wrong, nobody can tell you they are wrong because they are yours and only you truly know them, and so on. Suddenly, I realized <i>I was not the one with a problem.</i> It was NM's problem if she didn't like or couldn't handle the feelings I had. It wasn't my problem, it never was. It was hers, it was <i>always </i>hers. She, for whatever reason, could not deal with my feelings. I was practically giddy with delight at this realization. Well, there might have been a little wine involved in that, too.<br />
<br />
Connecting those words with my NM was the first step toward the truth. I remember it very clearly, right down to where in the room my professor was standing when he said them. I remember liking those words, but not connecting them at all to NM at the time. When I did connect them, it was amazing, a weight I had carried all my life was gone. I hadn't learned the proper term for NM's behavior yet (invalidation), but I knew the concept. And knowing it was incredible. I wasn't completely ready to act on it though. That would come later, after I had connected NPD to my mother and learned more about it, when the second and final straw came, that I call "The Second Incident" lead me to confront her about about her behavior, especially her invalidation.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-68395448297074137502012-07-09T16:27:00.000-07:002012-07-09T16:27:06.350-07:00I Will Find Myself Someday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I mentioned before how important music is in my life. Music is moving and powerful, so I want to share songs that mean things to me with others, so that such music might help them as it helps me. This is a song that's fit me rather well for awhile now. I shared it with everyone at <a href="http://kikimatters.blogspot.com/2012/04/first-annual-re-birthday-party.html" target="_blank">Kiki's (Re) Birthday Party</a>, but I want to put it on my blog, too. I find the lyrics fitting, but hopeful, and the melody gives me a sense of promise for the future, of overcoming. It's called Back to Me, by Three Doors Down. Once more, I have bolded parts of the lyrics that touch me the most, which is almost all the lyrics, actually, so I'll underline some parts, too.</div>
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Lyrics: <br /><b><u>I have poured out my heart,<br />
And laid it right here for you,</u><br />
And I've tried so hard,<br />
That's the best that I can do,<br />
<u>Please understand I am not who I was</u></b><u>,</u><br />
<br />
<b>You used to be all that I had,<br />
Now you're just not what I need,<br />
I've got to get over you and I know,<br />
Then I can get back to me.</b><br />
<br />
Tears forget, that's more than I can do,<br />
'Cause they don't wash away,<br />
All the things that we've been through,<br />
<b>I've put behind me my share of the shame,</b><br />
We could call villains but it's all in vain.<br />
<br />
<b>You used to be all that I had,<br />
Now you're just not what I need,<br />
I've got to get over you and I know,<br />
Then I can get back to me.</b><br />
<br />
<b><u>All of my life I've waited hoping,<br />
Wanting you to see me the way that I am,<br />
But now I know, that I'm not alone<br />
Someone understands</u></b><br />
<br />
<b>You used to be all that I had,<br />
Now you're just not what I need,<br />
I've got to get over you and I know,<br />
Then I can get back to me.</b><br />
<br />
You've got to know that<br />
<br />
<b>You used to be all that I had,<br />
Now you're just not what I need,<br />
I've got to get over you and I know,<br />
Then I can get back to me.</b><br />
<br />
Then I can get back to me,<br />
(Then I can get back to me)<br />
Then I can get back to me
<i></i><br /><br />I did pour out my heart, or tried to anyway, to my NM during what I call "The Confrontation"... Which didn't work out so well. And I really don't feel I am the same person I was before coming to all these realizations about my mother and my childhood. I can't go back to who I was when I didn't see those things, it's impossible. What NM has, what she offers, it was once all I had, but now I know I do not need it. So slowly, ever so slowly, I work through it all, to find and reclaim my true self.</div>
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</div>Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-38521727816344395092012-07-05T15:43:00.000-07:002012-07-05T15:43:18.862-07:00The Point Where Communication Will Always FailAttempts to communicate in an honest and sincere manner with a narcissistic inevitably will break down or shut down. There is, I believe, an <i>exact </i>point where the communication break/shut down will <i>always</i> occur. It may occur any time before this point, but if it hasn't already occurred, it will at this specific point. This is because what narcissists are literally incapable of what is required at that point to continue honest, open, and sincere dialogue. The cunning may feign possessing it in an attempt to control and manipulate, and some may be indeed be deceived, but it is no longer honest communication, ergo, even when the illusion of real communication is present, the reality of the matter is that communication has broken or shut down.<br />
<br />
What is this magic breaking point, you ask? It is the exact moment you ask them to consider a perspective different from their own. This is literally an impossible task for them, just like it is for small children. The comparisons of narcissists to young children that many make are not exaggerations. Both narcissists and small children are <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egocentrism" target="_blank">egocentric</a>. As such, they cannot possess empathy or take different perspectives. Children in theory grow out of this and learn empathy and understanding. I don't know if narcissists simply carry their egocentricity of childhood with them into adulthood, or develop it later, or if something else entirely causes it, but the egocentric adult is clearly lacking in the empathy and understanding department.<br />
<br />
What does it mean to take another person's perspective, though? It's not to literally look through their eyes, and besides, most people can at least understand that they'll see different things if they are standing on different sides of a table. It is the ability to appreciate or respect the subjective experience of another person, even if it is different from your own subjective experience. I say "subjective" experience, because by default all experiences you have are filtered through your genetics, your past experiences, your mind set when experiencing something, and so on. Take taste for example. Some people love the taste of cilantro, some people absolutely hate it. Neither of them are wrong, it's simply subjective.<br />
<br />
To the narcissist though, only their experience is right and it is the only experience that is real. It is the only experience anyone can have in their world. All others are false. All other experiences by other people are lies, delusions, misremembered, or are otherwise invalid. When you ask your narcissist parent to listen to your perspective, and how you felt unloved and terrified as a child, they cannot even concede that you might have had a different experience than they did. You are wrong and are not entitled to any thoughts or feelings based on such false experiences. Any thoughts or feelings that come from those false experiences are also false! And so all meaningful communication breaks down when you ask the narcissist even imagine what it's like to walk in your shoes. They can't, the only shoes that exist in their world are their own. They are completely incapable of doing what is necessary to continue healthy dialogue.<br />
<br />
I do not doubt that my mother experienced herself as a very loving and devoted parent, that she experienced herself as loving and caring. She felt herself giving me love, and probably still does. And that's her experience, she's entitled to it and I won't deny it. But it isn't mine, and it isn't what I lived with and continue to live with. I carry it with me every day. I did not experience her as loving and caring, but often as terrifying. I will not say she didn't love me (invalidating her experience), but that <i>I did not feel loved</i> (my personal experience). However, I can accept that her experience wasn't mine, and when I confronted her I didn't even ask for apologies, only that she accept my experience was different, and that just because it wasn't the same as hers didn't mean it and everything that went with it was wrong.<br />
<br />
She couldn't even lie, couldn't even pretend to acknowledge me and my experiences. Being right, being able to play the victim, the persecuted martyr, was too important to her, I guess. Although in all fairness I myself struggle with a narcissistic need to be right (probably because for so much of my life I was told I was wrong, wrong, wrong that I desperately want to be right). Though it's a flaw I'm aware of now and am working on, unlike my NM.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-1482755656288491812012-06-14T15:32:00.000-07:002012-07-05T15:44:48.364-07:00Music and SafetyMusic is important to me. I've never learned how to play an
instrument and I'm not a great singer, although that doesn't stop me
from singing to myself and going out to karaoke with my friends. Often
when I was growing up, whether I was cleaning or crying in my room, I
would be listening to music and singing along.<br />
<br />
Music
was safe. NM didn't care what songs I liked or didn't, and I never
played it loudly or sang loudly if she was home so that was never a
problem. Through music and song I could at least partially experience
the emotions I had to repress. For example, being sad was not
acceptable-- liking, listening to, and singing with a sad song was
acceptable. It's no wonder many of the songs I liked growing up were
sad, angry, or about longing for something more/better. Anyway, it's
hard to describe. It's almost like I would vicariously experience the
emotions of the music in place of my own or maybe it was simply one of
the only outlets I had for my emotions. Maybe I displaced my emotions
onto the song, so I wouldn't experience the discomfort of having the
feelings I was taught were wrong. Maybe it was all of that.<br />
<br />
<br />
Today, I still look for music that reflects those emotions when I
am feeling them, but I am at least able to feel my own emotions, too,
now. Music moves me, it helps me fully explore those emotions, relating
my emotions and the song. Music is part of the story of my life and
music goes with me on The Journey. So off and on I'll be posting some of
the songs that I associate with myself, my NM, and my journey.<br />
<br />
To start us off, "Between a Mother and a Child" by Chely Wright. I'm bolding parts of the lyrics that really resonate or fit with me and my situation. Also, I'll be out of town soon so I may be delayed it posting or responding to comments.<br />
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<b>I know you don't like me<br />
Don't like the things I do<br />
The saddest part just might be<br />
That I don't like you too</b><br />
<b>You think you know my story<br />
Well maybe you did for a little while</b><br />
I guess that's the way it sometimes goes<br />
Between a mother and a child<br />
Oh a mother and a child<br />
<br />
All my life you've reminded me<br />
How you struggled nine long months<br />
Your achin' back and your swollen feet<br />
How you almost lost me once<br />
<b>You say you gave up everything<br />
All the dreams you had</b><br />
<b>Told us kids we're the only reason<br />
You stayed there with our dad</b><br />
<br />
<b>And you want me to cry for you<br />
</b>
<b>And you want me to feel the way you do<br />
I'm sorry your life let you down<br />
But the fault it is not mine</b>
<br />
It's not supposed to be like this<br />
Between a mother and a child<br />
<br />
<b>You want me to just agree<br />
With everything you say<br />
Call my dad the bad guy<br />
Make him pay and pay and pay</b><br />
<b>It's really not my business<br />
It never was or will ever be</b><br />
But I know nobody's perfect<br />
And that's counting you and me<br />
Yeah that's counting you and me<br />
<br />
I don't remember all that happened<br />
Mama I was just a kid<br />
But if it really was all that bad<br />
Why do you wish I did?<br />
<br />
<b>You want me to cry for you<br />
</b>
<b>I'll never feel the way you do<br />
I'm sorry your life let you down<br />
But the fault it is not mine</b>
<br />
It's not supposed to be this way<br />
Between a mother and a child<br />
Oh a mother and a child<br />
You're my mother and I'm your childAdela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-57657152084901637932012-06-04T17:13:00.000-07:002012-06-04T17:13:13.590-07:00A Good CryI've read a few books on the subject of horrible parenting. The well know <u>Drama of the Gifted Child</u> by Alice Miller, <u>Toxic Parents</u> by Susan Forward, and <u>The Narcissistic Family: Diagnosis and Treatment</u> by the Pressmans, which I highly recommend and you can read a review of <a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/take-all-prisoners/201003/the-narcissistic-family-diagnosis-and-treatment" target="_blank">here</a>. Although written with therapists in mind, it's very informative and validating. In fact, it's the very kind of book I was thinking of writing until I discovered such a book was already written!<br />
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I mention this simply to illustrate my familiarity with the subject, beyond my personal experiences with my own NM and what was I was required to learn and study for my higher education. More importantly though, I bring this all up because one of the friends I mentioned in the post, <a href="http://breakingthetyrantsrod.blogspot.com/2012/03/validating-experience.html" target="_blank">A Validating Experience</a>, who is also in the field of psychology, felt compelled to print and give me a copy of an <a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052702303592404577361903649660464.html" target="_blank">article</a> from the Wall Street Journal, entitled "Calling a Truce in Mother-Daughter Conflict" at an event where my E-sis was present despite knowing my preference for not discussing the matter at all in front of E-sis.<br />
<br />
Fortunately my E-sis didn't see what was on the paper, so for all she knows it could have been recipe for the delicious dinner we had. Anyway, I am certain my friend meant well, but I was very uncomfortable receiving it and actually not interested in reading it because from the title alone gave me a bad feeling. You see, my NM and I have a kind of truce already; I have distanced myself from her and don't discuss sensitive personal things with her. We are capable of being quite civil and pleasant in each others' company.. What we <i>are not capable</i> of is having a close, intimate relationship because she cannot even begin to accept that my experiences and feelings are valid even if she doesn't like or agree with them. But the other night, after finally catching up on the blogs I read, I decided that since I was on the topic of NMs already to read the article before going to sleep.<br />
<br />
Just to emphasize, this was a four page article from the Wall Street Journal of all places, written by a journalist who is in no way a member of any so called "helping professions" like therapists or psychologists, and who quotes only one or two people who are. Considering my friend's own higher education in the field of psychology and her knowledge of my personal and education background, and about the fact I have C-PTSD, I'm very surprised she thought this article would be useful or relevant in any way for me. I found it actually very invalidating of my experience, especially in light of the fact I had recently told my friend the entire story regarding my mother and me.<br />
<br />
It was the end of the article that really did it for me, though. Where it lists "...ideas for how mothers and daughters can improve their relationship." - as if it were as simple as that little list makes it out to be! As if I hadn't already tried to "speak as an adult" to NM! <strong></strong>Maybe for relationships where the mother is just irritating but genuinely cares for and loves her daughter, but definitely not for those where the mother was an abusive narcissist! I could rant on, but I would be neglecting the most important part, the true point, of this entry.<br />
<br />
Right there in bed, with my DH next to me reading a book, I started tearing the article into pieces and bawling. Without a word he took me in his arms, and I did not refuse his comfort like I am prone to doing. Having been raised in an environment where I was taught I was not worthy of comfort and that it was wrong to feel anger, sorrow, or pain, I almost always push him away physically or emotionally when he first tries to reach out to me when I'm upset. Not only that, but crying often makes me feel more miserable than I already am, because I feel bad for crying, for troubling him with my tears, even though I know he is not like my mother. In fact, it's fairly recent development that I refrain from apologizing when I cry now.<br />
<br />
But for the first time I can recall, perhaps for the first time in my entire life even, I didn't feel bad about crying and sobbing out my pain. Instead of making me feel worse, it actually felt <i>good</i> to be sobbing without any shame in front of another human being. I didn't even feel and have to suppress the usual urge to apologize for my sudden outburst. I didn't try to hide my face. And best of all, DH didn't ask me to explain what was wrong before offering me comfort, and I didn't feel like I had to explain immediately, either. I didn't feel like I had to try and justify my tears to anyone, even myself. Of course after I explained what set me off and he had already figured it had something to do with the article and my NM.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately now I am left wondering how to politely ask my friend to refrain from giving me any more articles on my the subject.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-43606557615572406562012-05-02T13:52:00.001-07:002012-05-10T17:16:18.418-07:00Kitchen Knives and Classical ConditioningVery early in my adolescence I developed a phobia of very sharp things. If I were to create a scale, the least fear inducing sharp object was scissors, box cutters would be in the middle, and the most fear inducing objects would be my NM's very expensive, <i>very </i>sharp kitchen knives. The biggest ones were the scariest, and without a doubt these were the sharpest objects in the house.<br />
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Before I continue, let me explain a little about how phobias usually form and work. Phobias tend to be the result of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Classical_conditioning" target="_blank">classical conditioning</a>. One of the most well known experiments with humans in this area is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Albert" target="_blank">Little Albert experiment</a>. To summarize, classical conditioning is when a Neutral Stimulus is paired with an Unconditioned Stimulus that elicits an Unconditioned Response, such as fear. After one or more pairings, the previously Neutral Stimulus will elicit the same response as the Unconditioned Stimulus without the presence of the Unconditioned Stimulus. Thus, they become the Conditioned Stimulus and Conditioned Response.<br />
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Poor Little Albert was exposed to a sudden loud noise and became fearful. This was an Unconditioned Stimulus and Unconditioned Response. When he had recovered he was introduced a white rat. Little infants have no natural fear response to little white rats like they do to sudden loud noises, white rats are a Neutral Stimulus. But then, as Little Albert approached the white rat, BAM, the horrible loud noise! Fear! After repeated exposure, Little Albert would become fearful whenever the white rat was introduced, even without the loud noise. The white rat was now a Conditioned Stimulus and he had a Conditioned Response to white rats. Not only that, it generalized to similar things fuzzy things like rabbits.<br />
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The most common phobias are for things that could be dangerous to our hunter-gatherer ancestors. Water (drowning!), heights (falling!) , poisonous snakes (generalized to all snakes), poisonous spiders/insects (generalized to all bugs), small spaces (trapped!), and so on. But we can become phobic of anything with the right conditioning. So how did I become afraid of sharp things, you wonder? Were they paired with an Unconditioned Stimulus and fear response in my adolescence? Yes and no.<br />
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The stimuli were all in my head, they never happened in reality. I had a strong urge to cut myself, although I never acted on it. And if I was going to kill myself, I was fairly certain I would do so by slitting my wrists. Usually I thought of using the kitchen knives to do so since as I mentioned earlier they were the sharpest objects in the house. Not only that, they were easily accessible, sitting on the counter in their knife block. Never acted on the urge to slit my wrists, either, but all these thoughts created anxiety for me, and they happened often enough that I developed a phobia of sharp things. These self destructive urges and suicidal thoughts, along with benignly putting
away knives as a child were my only experiences with knives as NM had no
interest in teaching me to cook, so I had no view of them as useful tools for cooking. They were simply sharp, dangerous things in my world once my self destructive thoughts crystallized into urges to cut and/or slit my wrists. I think the phobia was in weird way a kind of self defense mechanism against those self destructive and suicidal urges I experienced (especially when I was angry or upset), so I can't say it was a bad phobia to have. It simply became less useful and more of a hindrance as I got older. To this day I still experience the urge cut myself when I'm experiencing strong negative emotions, but I have since overcome my phobia through years of self imposed gradual exposure. I can handle the biggest kitchen knives now and even own a decorative sword! The only thing I don't do is hand wash our kitchen knives; DH takes care of that. Recently I did wash one myself, though, so that's another step forward. <br />
<br />
Moving along! Now that I've established this background, their are two knife stories involving my NM, one of which involves the aforementioned phobia.<br />
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When I was about eight years old, and before NM had bought the really expensive kitchen knives, I was putting away clean dishes. Presumably my sister had loaded the dishwasher as that was usually how we operated. One loaded, the other unloaded, then we switched. Unsupervised, as always. The cheapo knives did not merit the care of hand washing and were always loaded into the silverware rack. A paring knife had put loaded with the blade sticking up. I picked it up very carefully with my thumb and index finger, but ended up cutting the tip of my thumb. First and <i>only </i>time I've ever injured myself with a knife. It wasn't deep, it didn't traumatize me, though it sure bled a lot. What did I do? Did I go to my mother? No. I was afraid, terrified even, that she would think I had been playing with the knife and I would be in trouble! I remember it so clearly. I bandaged up my thumb myself and pretended I had a paper cut when she asked about the bandage. She never asked to see underneath. I feel it speaks volumes that a wounded child was afraid to let her mother know she was hurt. You know what else tries to hide injuries from others? <i>Wounded animals.</i> I was like a wounded animal trying to conceal my injury from a dangerous predator! I realize now how NOT normal this whole situation was. Children are supposed to be able to go to their mothers for comfort and aid when they are hurt!<br />
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Flash forward to sometime in my teens, probably around 15 years of age. By now I had a full phobia of sharp things, especially those expensive, sharp kitchen knives, which required hand washing. Although my NM didn't know the extent of my fear, she knew that I was afraid of the knives. I would usually leave them for somebody else to wash or put away and nobody ever made a fuss about it. One day though, for some reason, my NM decided to make a big deal about my not doing the knives. It happened in the kitchen, by the sink, probably when I was by the sink, which was in a corner. I don't remember what was said. I only remember her being angry. I remember being cornered, counter to my left and at my back was the sink, extending to the right behind me. Next to the sink were the knives, and I remember my NM holding one of the large ones with her left hand. She wasn't holding it like she was going to stab me or anything (besides, she's right handed so if she was going to stab me she'd have put it in her right hand), just holding it, her wrist resting on the counter as she held it, while her other hand rested on the counter to my left, trapping me in the corner. There was no way around her <i>and she had a knife</i>. I don't remember anything that was said, I don't remember when she let me go, only that eventually she did, but it seemed like forever to me.<br />
<br />
I was <i>terrified</i>. Utterly, horribly, absolutely, terrified.<br />
<br />
And I was in therapy at the time.<br />
<br />
<b>I never told my therapist about what happened.</b> Crazy, right? That's how messed up I was. And I've never mentioned the incident to my NM since it happened. I doubt she would me believe me, either she'd say it didn't happen at all, or that she wasn't holding the knife. Or maybe she'd try to justify it by saying she wasn't pointing it at me. I don't know. It doesn't matter what she has to say about it. I know it was real, I know it happened. I will <i>never </i>forget the fear.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8573062537392028801.post-68314421040900398742012-04-18T00:35:00.001-07:002012-04-18T00:39:58.697-07:00The Dishwasher was Infallible, I was NotI mentioned in the post <a href="http://breakingthetyrantsrod.blogspot.com/2012/03/rage-yelling-and-tears.html" target="_blank">Rage, Yelling, and Tears</a> that the dishes were a special area of concern with my NM. Some of her most terrifying rages were about the dishes, sometimes she would rage and sometimes she would cry and rage. Two overlapping areas in particular were dishes that didn't come out clean (and sometimes got put away dirty), and her precious copper pots and pans.<br />
<br />
A dish that didn't get clean was <i>never </i>the dishwasher's fault, it was always the fault of the person who had last loaded the dishwasher. Of course that person wither either my sister, me, or both of us together. Sometimes she would check the dishes before running the dishwasher, and we would either be summoned to again clean a dish she didn't think was clean enough for the dishwasher, or she would angrily redo it herself. If a dish was put away dirty, there would be yelling about it when it was found. Or we hadn't loaded it "right" she would redo it herself and there would be lots of banging of dishes around while she went at it in anger.<br />
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By far though, the most common rages involved her precious copper pots and pans. Even when we got them clean she criticized us for using too much of her pot polish, she could get it done with far less, after all. Heaven forbid she find a one of those put away "dirty"! In fact I realize now what she often thought of as not clean enough was really water spots, or that it wasn't polished shiny enough... Anyway, she would start slamming things around and yelling and sometimes she would make my sister or me stand their and wash it again, criticizing us for using too much polish all the while.<br />
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The most loud slamming and banging of things typically occurred the pots and their lids were put away "dirty" or weren't put away "right", whichever way that was. Hell if I know. All I know is the smaller pans stacked inside the larger ones, but she had so many pots and different large ones and there was so little space where she stored them that it was difficult to do it "right"! Things would be clanging angrily as she rearranged them, she'd slam the cabinets shut, and yell or cry or both. This is where I feel the word "terrifying" is truly an appropriate description of my experience as a child with this. Her reaction was so out of proportion to the problem it was insane. And of course I felt it was my fault she was so mad, which then made me feel both terrified and like a horrible person. I just can't seem to convey the experience and how terrifying she was to me clearly in writing...<br />
<br />
So I learned to hate doing dishes, although when I was a teenager I got better at doing them and when the dishwasher broke and we switched to hand washing them I usually got them clean. The truth is it wasn't the dishes I hated, but the association of them with my NM and her rages. I dislike folding laundry too, for similar reasons. How angry she would get when little five year old Adela was found to have shoved her clean clothes in her drawers instead of folding them! But of course my NM couldn't be bothered to help and make sure I did it. Ugh. Ridiculous to expect a five year old to learn to clean and fold laundry on their own, unsupervised, out of intrinsic motivation, but I digress, see <a href="http://breakingthetyrantsrod.blogspot.com/2012/03/spanking-and-learned-helplessness.html" target="_blank">Spanking and Learned Helplessness</a> for more on my NM, cleaning, and developmentally inappropriate expectations of children.<br />
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Anyway, I realize I don't like loud noises not just because I have sensitive hearing, but also for the same reason I don't like angry voices and yelling. It triggers emotional flashbacks to when I was a child suffering my NM's rages. And I still don't like doing dirty dishes. Often I let the dishes build up and get overwhelmed by them, but I'm getting a little better and my DH is a huge help. Also we own nice non-stick pots and pans with tempered glass lids. And since I can't stack them inside each other, I hang them from a pot rack on the ceiling. The glass lids make less racket than metal ones. No clanging and banging and no need to polish them. I greatly prefer this.<br />
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I used to get irritated with DH when a dish came out of our dishwasher (once we got one) and it was dirty but have since realized I'm repeating my NM's irrational behavior and learned that a stupid dirty dish is nothing to get worked up about. Who cares if or why a dish comes out of the dishwasher dirty, it'll get clean the next time around!<br />
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Next time, more on dishes. Specifically my old phobia, kitchen knives, and my NM.Adela Albahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00378821081049143169noreply@blogger.com10