Strange Star

[Hope4Now]

I did it. Made it through 7 hours 1:1 with my mom today, on her 85th birthday. @Pencil you will like my creative way of making it work. It just goes to prove that I am a case of arrested development. I am still a child. Or part of me is.

Around a month ago when I last saw my massage/yoga therapist who I can't afford anymore, we were talking about dissociation and fear, etc. and strategies for me. In addition to mudras, she asked if I had seen the first Batman movie. Although I was a die-hard Batman fan until I was around 13, I have not seen the movies. She said in it, he had a special cape. When all was safe, his cape was just a regular silky cape. But when there was danger, he did something to it and it became an impenetrable force field, like steel.

I think I must have imagined, at least 100 times today, that I was wearing the danger-cape. And a danger-mask of my own imagining. It got me through the tax lady. It got me through not being able to FIND my mother (WTF) where she said she would be. It got me through not being able to finish the taxes because said paperwork has to be requested from the bank. It got me through an unsuccessful shopping trip to Target, and to say NO to taking her to another store, far out of my way. It got me through dinner, picking up my daughter, taking her home while my mother waited, and returning my mother to her apartment. It got me through committing to another night when the whole family would celebrate her birthday with cake. And, it got me through her expected disappointment at the musical tickets and not the concert series I used to take her to.

I came home from the evening, and my daughter was in screaming tears. Full frontal meltdown. Started with a cracked iPad and escalated in minutes to "I hate school and everyone hates me." I managed to drag her out of the abyss and lay down with her under the glowing stars of her ceiling until she fell asleep. Everyone is now asleep, including the dog.

The GREAT news is that my son was just accepted into a very cool summer program for youth interested in Unitarian ministry in Chicago this summer. Yay! Something he really wanted, and he could use a boost right now.

 

[Pietro]

A lot for me to catch-up on! :)

I wonder if you have similar experiences whereby expressing, and, indeed, even FEELING your own needs is dangerous.

First of all, I really feel for you @Echo. It's absolutely terrible that you had to face this kind of entry into the world.

I think the problem of one's own needs feeling "dangerous" is a common problem for those who've suffered emotional trauma. I think that certainly plays into my issues as well.

My therapist is currently my lifeline. And I feel the same way...somehow it doesn't count when you pay them to be that.

Right now, I'm happy to at least have the therapist as a lifeline. And I don't mind paying her, because I don't have to worry about complaining to her, don't have to be nice or put-on a happy face, etc. I can be emotional, unpleasant, and real without fear of abandonment or feeling like I'm being a "user" to someone. It's a win-win relationships. :)

But I don't know what I did, other than to just try to show some of myself in a vulnerable way.

Most people simply don't get it, or don't want to get it. Americans, certainly, consider catering to one's emotions to be a weakness. Emotions are inconvenient, hurt productivity, and make everyone around you feel awkward when you're expressing them. ;)

I have a friend who I've known for nearly 30 years, and who has, himself, had significant time in therapy. And, yet, when I start to talk about some of my deeper issues, he immediately gets uncomfortable, and tries to offer superficial suggestions about how to deal with it (which also indicates a real problem in the quality of much of the therapy that occurs in the US). Trauma/PTSD, in particular, is a very lonely world outside of the company of others who share this.

But rarely is it fulfilling in a deep/emotional/supportive way. It's just empty. It makes me feel like an alien with needs that are a complete mismatch with the rest of humanity.

You took the words right out of my brain. I think this is a common thing among those of us who deal with attachment/abandonment/neglect issues. We didn't get the consistent, unconditional love that we should have from our caregivers, so we have much greater difficulty finding that within ourselves, and finding connection with others. It is a deep and tenacious wound.

The weirdest thing is, much of the time she is very well-intentioned. It's just that she needs the rest of the world to conform to what she thinks is right. She is really like a pit-bull when she gets onto something. Perseveration is the word.

I'm sure you've heard the saying "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." :D My mother tends to be the same way. We were looking for paint colors the other day for my kids' rooms. Both kids wanted some pretty funky color combinations. Not terrible -- the colors were compatible -- but definitely not traditional. My mom, who I hoped would be helpful since I've fairly color-blind, couldn't deal with the fact that they wanted such color combinations, and actually got frustrated and perturbed about it. I had to ask my ex and her sister to vet the colors. That kind of narrow-mindedness is a disease that starts wars. It's not surprising that your mom is getting a bad reaction to it.

And SHE got mad at ME. Argh. It makes me feel completely crazy. And when I try to use these as examples to point out to her how hurtful her ongoing behavior is, she denies that anything like that ever happened. Argh.

You're better than me -- I rarely confront my mother directly. :) But, when I do confront her, she always takes it personally, and makes it me being unreasonable and hurting her. Such is the perspective of the narcissist.

I truly do not believe she does this intentionally. That if she understood her effect, she would stop. Hmm. There's a core belief. Maybe this is where I am wrong.

It's quite possible that she believes her behavior is appropriate and normal. If this behavior was her example growing-up (and it probably was), this is what she's going to believe if nothing in life has convinced her otherwise. That doesn't mean it's not intentional, though. Again, she could believe that the things she says and does are important and necessary for people to hear -- she may have good intentions. :) Because she was raised to believe this to be appropriate. And, somehow, she's gone through life without this being a penalty, it seems -- probably because she's so subtle, as you described. That subtlety, however, can also be that much more damaging for a child, because it makes it that much more difficult to know what to believe about people, to discern good from bad, kindness from manipulation, and concern from control.

She is sick. And I guess I'm sick right along with her because I'm still caught up in her s*&t all these years later.

:) We're all sick. But some of us face this reality and choose to do something positive about it. The rest don't.

It took me a some years to get to a point where I don't give a shit what my mother thinks about me or my life anymore -- mostly. ;) I let her opinion, and that of other family members, rule my decisions for most of my life, which has been disastrous for me. When she starts-in with her criticisms, if she's civil and succinct, she gets a hearing, and if I disagree, I tell her. That's all I'll tolerate. If she continues to harp on something despite my response, I tell her that I'm not willing to discuss it any longer -- it's my decision. This pisses her off, but I'm not responsible for her emotional reactions, and certainly not responsible for inability to respect the boundaries of others.

It's hard to do. It's painful, and it feels disloyal and disrespectful. Good, caring people don't walk around wanting to make their elderly parents upset and miserable. :) And you are a good, caring person -- enormously so. But, without respecting your boundaries, this will destroy you. And because some people are so incredibly needy and selfish, they will help you do it. You are an adult now; your mother has no right to dictate anything to you. You take care of everyone and everything, including her. You're the boss, not her. (Can you tell I'm lecturing myself simultaneously? ;) )

I am all she has as far as someone to look out for her, and at 85, she deserves that much. In spite of all of it, she did raise me, and I feel a sense of responsibility for her.

I feel the same way. However, I will not sacrifice my life or mental health to do so. I will not allow my mother to guilt me into supporting her insatiable material appetites and take me down the same financial black hole she took herself through. I will do what's reasonable and respectful, but I won't save her from herself -- because I can't. We can only save ourselves, ultimately.

I empathize greatly with your situation. We deserve to be free of the guilt and indecision caused by parents like ours.

 

[Pietro]

These things are violations, they are sticky, and the 'perpetrator' is always aware, on some level, of what it is they are doing. I don't buy the 'innocence' trip. Living with this is very difficult. Don't let the 'smallness' of the incidents hoodwink you - it's part of the strategy.

Pencil said in two sentences what I tried to say in 5 paragraphs. :banghead: So much for brevity on my part.

Martyrs are good for one thing only: to suffer. So, let them suffer!

This one is going into my "book of wisdom". :D

 

[Pencil]

my creative way of making it work

I love the cape! And new you can elaborate. Your cape might be emblazoned with 'f*ck you!', it can sprout tentacles or lollipops. It helps to distract the mind and prevent it from going down familiar neural pathways, or freeways.

You also have a teaching background. I discovered that the most effective tactic in class discipline / management is unpredictability. Try it with your mother; when she really gets on your nerves do something completely out of character. If you would normally say 'Excuse me, I want to go to the toilet', go: 'Oooooh, gotta pee.' - especially if you don't need to go to the loo. Stun/confuse her and get yourself physically away. Start confusing your mother with tiny things. Leave her gobsmacked at your 'strange' behaviour, but make it so small that she can't make an issue of it. If bad manners annoy her, display lack of manners - not gross, just slightly off. This will disrupt the lock-step sequence of your interaction, it will throw her off for a few seconds, it will occupy her mind, and it will turn the spotlight in your mind to a new spot. What we have to do is identify the lock step sequence, and pintpoint that exact moment or thing that sends everything down the chute - and head it off at the pass. That's the moment you have to do something extraordinary. And yes, I get how you feel - she is 85, she did raise you - the last thing you need is to something you'll feel guilty about.

 

[Pietro]

You also have a teaching background. I discovered that the most effective tactic in class discipline / management is unpredictability.

Brilliant. When I was teaching, this was a very important way of keeping the attention and interest of the kids, as well as helping to maintain some "mystique" that helped with discipline. But I never thought about doing this with adults, in this context. I think I will have to try this. :D

 

[Pencil]

Hi Pietro! Fancy meeting you here :hug:

 

[Hope4Now]

You know, therapy is funny. After spending the whole appointment on Monday talking about my mother, then spending all that time with her yesterday, we didn't even mention her during my appointment today. We did what I guess is called "trauma work." Working directly with parts of myself...trying to figure out what they are, what they have to show me/say to me, what they want, etc. If we continue at this pace, I am going to be in trauma therapy for the rest of my life, because there is a hell of a lot of noise in my head and my body from so many parts of myself that my therapist calls "exiles."

Today, we left the 3 year old aside to "watch" as I was working with some much younger, more vulnerable energy. I was actually able to share a few things out loud with my therapist about it...It is very hard for me to speak about what is going on inside me. Feels verboten. But I did it.

I guess it was verboten to speak about anything "uncomfortable" when I was a child and teen. Very strict rules and expectations about what one could say to others both within and outside the family. (I mean, really...when I was 17 I had to create this massively complex dodging act in order to get out of my house on a weeknight to go to an Alateen meeting. Some lady who had come to our school to talk about alcoholism sort of took me under her wing and snuck me out to a bunch of meetings until my parents found out and put an end to it.)

I didn't go to work today. I had fully intended to. Showered, dressed, bag packed. Then the same thing as yesterday happened and 3 hours passed and then I had to go to my therapy appointment. The appointment was intense. One of those where I ended up hiding in the bathroom for about 30 minutes afterward trying to pull myself together, then another 30 minutes sitting in my car before I felt able to drive. It isn't that I was crying (I wish), or even upset at all. I was having weird dissociative issues. Couldn't focus my eyes properly, shaking, scattering thoughts. My therapist said at the end of the session he could tell I was still "blended" with the part we were working with. I'm starting to know what that means and feels like after all these months. It is very hard to get un-blended.

I couldn't go to work after the appointment either. So today was a wash as far as that goes. I came home. I ended up sleeping for almost four hours. Am just getting dinner on the table for my kids now (yikes 8:15!). But I feel much better.

I am going to have to do something about my job. My boss seems willing to be flexible on time until June when my contract will renew. I know they will not renew me for a full-time contract unless I can provide some guarantee that I will actually be able to work full time. I have not done that for this whole year. I really thought I would be better by now. I don't quite know what to do. In a totally irresponsible sort of way, I don't really care. I'm afraid of what will happen if I lose my full-time status or my job, because it will kill us financially, but I don't feel able to control this ptsd stuff that has taken over my life. I don't know when or if I will be better. I keep putting off having any conversation about it because it is overwhelming to figure out what I should do.

Sigh. Time to eat with the kids.

 

[Hope4Now]

I awakened this morning with the resolution that I need to get myself together. Nobody else is going to do it for me. I have got to find a daily practice that helps me manage this increasing chaos of my inner life that is really impacting my outer life too. I have LOADS of strategies that my therapist and other people who get this stuff have given me. I think maybe I'm just not using them in any organized way.

A long while back, the yoga/healer lady told me that it was essential that I develop routines in my life. This is really hard because my family life is like the ever-shifting sands...different obligations, different crises, different schedules all the time. I just gave up on anything but a predictable morning routine a long while back. But now it is time. I need to impose some kind of structure onto my life, or I think I will end up in the hospital.

Yesterday, among other things we talked about, my therapist was encouraging me to try yoga again. I've tried a bit of it off and on (I went to a trauma-sensitive yoga class, and on Youtube I've done a chair yoga thing from the same place). Both times triggered me and it took me a while to come down from it. But I know I need to do something about my body and figuring out how to be grounded and centered. And to get stronger too (2 years of this pain stuff has done a job on my strength and flexibility).

So this morning, I used a book called Overcoming Trauma through Yoga: Reclaiming Your Body. I decided I would try 15 minutes of it before going to work. I was trying to be very gentle and kind to myself...not do anything that was painful, etc. My therapist says, and he is right, that I feel so fragmented and depersonalized because a lot of parts of me do not feel safe being in my body. I'm really just starting to notice all this, but now that I do, I know it has been true for a long time. It's possible that my fall down the stairs a few years ago is what triggered some of this stuff to come out...

Anyway, I'm onto something. The floor stuff (child's pose etc.) was fine. The standing up pose (standing mountain and tree) totally triggered me. What the F? I have no idea why. Suddenly I had that shaking thing all over my body again and intense fear. I was actually whimpering. Some very young part of me completely took over. I felt like I needed to make myself as small as possible. I was terrified someone was going to hurt my body. I kept hearing some part of myself say, No, stop, leave me alone. This is my body. Then thinking, "She took my body away from me." I don't really know who "she" is. But I definitely had this weird awareness of a threatening but invisible presence. The feelings lasted far beyond the 15 minutes of yoga, but I was able to re-center eventually (Yay).

There was something about standing up--making myself big and taking up space in the world--that really activates parts of myself and is very frightening. I guess more and more stuff from my past is making its way to my consciousness. I'm remembering more dreams now too. Every single one has had to do with my attempts to be safely physically and emotionally connected with someone, but something gets in the way, and I am terrified. I'm trying so hard not to impose any interpretations on all this. To just let it come out as it will.

I think maybe what is happening to me these recent weeks--with all this overwhelm and forgetfulness and difficulty focusing--is that some part of me knows that memories are emerging and doesn't want them to come out. On Monday when I see my therapist next time, I'm going to ask him if we can do some of these movement things together. Maybe he can help me process some of what's happening. It just feels too frightening to do it by myself, although I was okay today. I just ordered a couple of books about the kind of therapy I'm doing (Internal Family Systems). I actually haven't read too much about it...have been mostly learning about it from their website (The Center for Self-Leadership) and from my therapist. I'm excited about these books (A Step-by-Step Guide to Creating Wholeness by J. Earley, and a workbook) because they are designed to support the therapy I'm doing. Maybe the workbook will help me structure my scattered and overwhelmed thinking a bit better.

Tonight it will be a long drive, but I'm finally going to see one of my all-time favorite singer-songwriters! I saw him around five years ago, and I can't wait!!! Dougie MacLean from Scotland. I hope he sings my personal anthem of late--Ready for the Storm. It is nice to feel excited about something. Weird that I actually FORGOT I was going to this concert until my husband reminded me last night. (This is testament to how wildly out of it I have been for the past few weeks). But now that I remember, I'm all excited. I don't even feel guilty that we're leaving the kids alone on a school night and won't be back until well after midnight.

 

[Pietro]

I got shivers reading about how those thoughts entered your mind immediately after being triggered during the yoga. I suppose I empathize in some way. Sounds like you're doing some amazing work. :)

Enjoy your concert tonight! The kids will figure things out for themselves. Of course, it could end-up like it did when I left my kids for 90 minutes, this morning, to go to a meeting at my job -- they had a bag of cookies and ate ice cream sandwiches for breakfast. :banghead: But your kids are older, right? ;)

 

[Hope4Now]

The concert was great last night. It was worth the drive and getting home late. Got front-row seats. Toward the end, Dougie was tuning and said, "I don't know what wee song to play next," and I said, "Ready for the Storm." My favorite! He said, "That sounds just right," and he played it. I can't believe I said it out loud, and he actually played it! I got to talk with him briefly afterward when he was signing my CD and got a photo with him. I feel like such a geek fan. But the man is an amazing poet-songwriter...every song he sings moves me. I so admire his work.

I did my yoga postures for 15 minutes again this morning. Am going to try to stick with this if I can. I need to move my body despite the pain/with the pain--which is very bad today, again. Didn't think I'd make it from my car to my office today. But I did. Anyway, I had weird reactions again.Today the toxic thoughts were mighty and mean...what's wrong with you? you're useless. you're body doesn't even work. Are you so pathetic you can't even push through the pain to do a simple posture? you're a loser. you're fat and ugly. etc.

The shaking was back, and the whimpering. No voices or thoughts today. Ended up curled up on the floor, crying but not crying. It was really weird, and this has happened before. I have all the physical manifestations of sobbing, but with no tears and sort of dulled emotion. Managed to ward off the overwhelm, mostly. I'm not sure, still, whether I did this in a healthy way, or kind of dissociated. I don't consider the pain part of the overwhelm. And it hardly ever goes away no matter what state I'm in. I don't really know what the pain is, exactly. It's a part of myself that has yet to be revealed.

 

[Hope4Now]

Vent. Part of me feels like working with inner children/exiles/parts of myself, whatever, is completely nuts. That this work is what is sending me off the deep end...thinking too much about the past, being too self-reflexive, even encouraging me to manufacture trauma that didn't really happen. This part of me says, "Just stop it. Get out of this ridiculous therapy thing. Get on with your life. Get it together. Be productive. You're wasting time. You're just sucked into a great big pity party for yourself. Get over it. Past is past. You are profoundly selfish and lazy and egotistical and maybe even narcissistic...etc."

Another part of me feels like this is the first time in my life I've ever begun to feel that another person (my therapist) is taking me seriously and is acknowledging that I had a lot of trauma in my life. Wow...just writing that sentence got the toxic voices of denial and minimization going again. I don't know what the hell it will take to make me stop minimizing all this. When I saw the yoga-healer lady the first time and handed her the endless questionnaire I had completed, she was pretty direct. "My, you sure have had a lot of trauma in your life." And that was in response to just a few things I had written down. And, on this forum, I have talked to people who share many similarities with me. That is both validating and frightening too. Maybe it's just that I don't want to be a traumatized person. That I fear deeply acknowledging my issues because it would mean I'm not the strong, able, courageous person I like to think I am.

I get caught up far too much in this sucking whirlpool of contradiction and fear.

Working with my inner three year old for the past month or so has been powerful. I have been mostly successful with suspending my disbelief in the process...trying to put it aside and trust that my therapist and all these others who practice this therapeutic approach actually know what they're doing. I mean, they participate in the process themselves and appear to be "normal" human beings. So I'm doing the work. And I guess it is working. Because this child part of myself is pretty clear, and now even sees me and has started talking to me.

Yesterday, I had a pretty intense experience with her when I was in the shower. Some memories I have had access to for months now suddenly wove together in a completely different way. It was like I was seeing them from a different perspective. I'm still not sure I trust this perspective, or what to make of it. I know, deep within myself, there are still big missing pieces of this aspect of my life.

Basically, my inner 3 yo "appeared" in the shower with me and I had this visceral memory of taking a shower with my mother when I was around 3 or 4 years old. That had never happened before and never happened again. I don't know why. The experience in the shower was not a good one. She didn't attack me and I will not go into any detail, but I know from the child part of myself that I was left feeling completely rejected and confused and ashamed, and learned that bodies--our own and others'--are shameful. My 3 yo self actually spoke...first time...and said, "Why did she do that?" I had to say, "I don't know, but it wasn't the right thing to do." And I had this bizarre interaction with my inner 3 year old in which I was trying to explain to her the boundaries between my body and her body and promising her that I would never hurt her and that she is safe with me now, away from her mother and father. The whole thing sent me into this spinning, off-balanced feeling. I felt a bit nauseous, I was shaking, etc. But I managed to manage all that.

This next part is weird. Completely surreal to me, but might be a trigger for anyone who is reading this...so take warning.

Then, when I was a bit more centered and getting dressed, something else came together. It, too, is about bodies and bathing. It is creepy, really, when I think about it. Surreal. I had forgotten all of this stuff until around 2 months ago. When I was growing up, my mother had this control thing about my body. I mean major-league control. I actually did not know until around 7th grade or so that it was not normal. I did know that I hated it but felt powerless to do anything about it. I actually remembered, yesterday, that I would "go out of my body" when this stuff was happening. I was only allowed to bathe once a week, and it had to be a bath (that's why the memory of the shower was so strange). And my mother washed me. I was not allowed to wash myself. But she didn't wash my hair. That had to be done in the sink. Again, only once a week. I hated both of these things. It became a big issue as I got older. I mean, I did not own my own brush or comb until I was in 8th grade and earning money as a babysitter and bought them for myself. It was a big deal. My mother went on and on about how ridiculous that was and why did I need my own things? I also was not allowed to use deodorant, or to shave my legs. I just thought all this was part of growing up.

I remembered yesterday that whenever I was in the bath, I would leave my body. Just sort of drift off. I used to stare at the bathroom ceiling and imagine myself there...I liked to think of living there, upside down, out of reach, invisible to everyone. I thought of myself being very small, and needing nothing at all. Just sort of existing there on the ceiling. I think maybe this is why I have so little detailed memories of the baths. I don't remember my mother touching me, and I have very few visual memories of the baths. But powerful memories of feelings of disgust and helplessness.

Then when I was around 13, my friend and I were talking about something and the question of bathing came up...when do you shower? how often do you wash your hair? The conversation was momentous. I suddenly realized how not-normal my situation was. I didn't quite believe it. I mean, what do you do with information like that? There was no way I could tell anybody about it. Through some other conversations with friends in the ensuing weeks, the reality was confirmed. My friends all showered and washed their hair daily or every other day. Had been doing that for years. On their own. They shaved, used deodorant, combed their own hair. All of it. I felt like a total freak. I started to push back at my mom. There were many arguments. She stuck to her guns that I would not get myself clean if I did it on my own, etc.

Eventually, I took control. By the time I was in 8th grade, I was "normal" in terms of personal hygiene.

So, I don't really know what to make of all this. The feelings that come up around it are wildly intense and mixed up with a lot of toxic messages about why I could have allowed this to happen and how stupid and clueless I was. I mean, I have a 12 year old and a 17 year old. I can't imagine either one of them tolerating what I tolerated. Why did I not do anything? There must have been...maybe still is...something very, very wrong with me. I am writing about this because it is the only way I can focus on it. When I just think about it, my thoughts go skittering off in twenty directions, like I will do anything to avoid thinking about the implications of this.

I feel a bit stunned when I think about what twisted part of my mother made her behave this way to me. I mean, why would someone do this? It makes no sense at all to me. And where was my father and why didn't he do anything to stop it? I mean, really...what the f? In her mind, she was just being a responsible parent, taking care of her child. At least that's what she always said. And I obviously believed her. Believed that this is what children had to do. My ignorance makes me want to puke.

I can't quite connect the weirdness of it to what might be considered "trauma." It feels like some sick movie is playing in my head. It feels like it happened to someone else. But it didn't.

There. I wrote about it. NOW WHAT? What the hell do you do with memories like this? Yikes.

 

[Pietro]

I can't say I've experienced exactly what you have. But, from reading about other's experiences, what you describe are clearly trauma responses. A situation where a parent that continues to wash a child after the child discovers his/her modesty is, at the very least, a form of personal invalidation (emotional abuse), and, at worst, a form of sexual abuse; it depends largely on the emotional context, on what feelings and emotions you derived from the experience at the time. You described "shame" and "disgust", both of which can cause trauma, especially if over an elongated period of time.

As to why your mother did this, who knows? :) Sounds like she was/is a control freak. And highly narcissistic -- she can't understand why anyone would think differently than she does. A young child is at the mercy of the parent in all things. It's only when the child becomes old enough and/or powerful enough to assert control over their own lives, as you did, that negative parental influence can be mitigated. But, of course, by the time that happens, damage has already been done.

What the hell do you do with memories like this?

Nothing. :) Over time, they will likely "fill-out" on their own -- you might get more associated emotional memory, more in-depth memory -- in short, the memory could become more "3D" over time. This varies by person, though.

In the short-run, though, I think it can be very uncomfortable to deal with these memories. I haven't had much in the way of "visual" memories, like this, but some of the emotional memories that have arisen have been very unpleasant. My therapist says that our job is to do little more than tolerate the energy that's being released, and continue being compassionate to the "little ones" as they reveal their secrets because of the immense trust they are giving you. This worked wonderfully for me over a situation in January. It lasted about a week -- and then, it was done, and has largely continued to be done. :)

I'm really sorry you're dealing with this right now. It's terribly unfair that you had to deal with such situations as a child (and that's an understatement). But I hope it starts to bring relief, both emotionally and physically. :)