To move forward, I must rewind…
6 Word Story Challenge
To move forward, I must rewind…
6 Word Story Challenge
He might have saved himself by the bell that rang 3 hours earlier than my proclaimed deadline. Thus, my last post was written a bit prematurely. But it gives me more time to plan and get my proverbial sh!t together which will only put me in a better place anyway in the long run. The only way I want to leave on the emergency plan is if I’m backed in to a corner. Because I will leave on my terms, with my dignity in tact. I am finally standing up for myself, and as shallow as it might sound, I will not let him believe that he is leaving me under any circumstances. I need to do this for my own assertiveness building tool kit. I need him to know that I’m the one calling the shots and that I have the upper hand for the first time in this relationship.
It’s amazing to me that now that I have turned the tables and am basically pulling a him on him, that he doesn’t even know how to handle it. He seems pretty certain that I’m cheating on him. He thinks it’s ok for him to stay out all hours of the night and for the first time I’m not questioning him or wondering or worried about where he is. And now when I stay out with no checking in and things don’t seem to add up in his mind, I get the third degree when I come home. It’s hilarious to me that all the years he gave me reasons to be suspicious and I would act paranoid, he’d act as though not trusting him was an act of crazy making on my part. And here we are on the flip side and who is crazy making now? Him. When I have been 100% innocent in all that I do. Sure, some of the things that I am doing right now do seem out of the ordinary for me because I flipped a switch and some of them might sound a bit off, like the fact that a music groupI started subbing for is called “Hotel Paradise Orchestra”. But I swear, I couldn’t make this crap up if I tried. But this all gives him rise to be on alert that I am cheating and to be amping up the mindgames. And just because I am playing along, doesn’t mean my resolve has weakened.
I might be worried about the process of how everything will shake out, but I have never felt stronger and never been more excited or felt more ready to feel free. I can’t wait to get to the other side. They always say that you will keep repeating the same pattern until you learn your lesson and until you finally break the pathology. And this pathology that I have lived for 40 years will finally be broken for good. I can say with complete authority that I will never end up in a situation like this ever again. I can see this a mile away now. I am on to these people. I am strong enough now to stand up for myself. I won’t let anyone bring me down ever again.
I might always be an empath, but I have this neat little switch inside of me. And when I see with complete clarity someone or some situation for what it truly is in its full gory, painful details, I’m completely done and just don’t feel the good stuff anymore. And I don’t feel the hurt anymore. Annoyed, irritated, stung, empty maybe, but no more tears, no more knots in the pit of my stomach, no more love, no more longing, no more desire.
I look younger and thinner and more beautiful than I have in years. He thinks I strut around the house looking good and knowing I look good for the first time, probably in our whole relationship, because he always made me feel bad about myself and made me feel not good enough. For the first time, I found the confidence from inside myself and haven’t looked to anyone else for the validation. Probably all the more reason for him to think I’m cheating as well. Oh well, guess he should have appreciated what he had while he had it. Guess he should have made me feel loved and made me feel beautiful. Guess he should have made me feel like I was more important than all the other stuff he puts above me in his life. But he couldn’t, can’t and won’t. Because he’s a sociopath. And that will never change. It can never change. And that has nothing to do with me. I am worthy of so much more.
In the same manner that people with Cluster B personality disorders feign emotions, I have had to mimic their manipulative masterminds. It has become a matter of my mental and physical survival in what has become the cold and harsh world of this empath.
I was raised by an adoptive father who has full blown Narcissistic Personality Disorder and an adoptive mother who was raised by a mother who had Narcissistic Personality Disorder, who then raised me with narcissistic parenting as well. She became the Flying Monkey of my Narcissistic father who treated me as his Emotional Partner because he didn’t have anything in common with my mother. So he smothered me and took over my life. My activities became his activities. Many of my friends saw this as a parent who loved his child and was just involved and were envious if they had parents who were absent from their lives. But my dad took it to a completely different extreme. Every. Single. Activity. I did, he was overly involved in. He was a co-leader of my girl scout troop. He was the Band Parents President of my band. He made a point of getting in close to MY friends, to make sure that my friends even sided with him whenever I was upset about something like teenagers get. I couldn’t even have friends who were on my side. It has a name. Emotional Incest. I was my dad’s surrogate wife.
My dad would do inappropriate things too. He was struggling with his sexual identity at the time (still does). At the time no one knew he was gay yet. We hadn’t caught him yet. But I had my suspicions, I just hadn’t told my mom yet. He found it funny to ooze out his gayness in other ways like sending postcards of naked men or men in bikini’s to other men (friends of his) anonymously and would send them from different states when he’d travel to try and throw them off so they wouldn’t know it was him. He told my friends about his little scheme. One of my friends who was laughing about it and placating him, my dad decided to do that to. He warned him about it, that he was going to do it and said it in a joking manner, but then he did it. A freshman or sophmore boy in high school receiving a postcard addressed to him in the mail of a guy in a bikini….awesome!!!! I am so lucky that friend and his parents had a decent sense of humor. That could have gone really bad.
It would make sense that I while still under the thumb of my dad, that I would be easily wooed by someone who on the outside seemed to vastly different from my dad, yet somehow apparently something deep inside of me knew something felt like home to me.
After meeting my birthdad, I also found out that my husband is much like him as well. In looks, mannerisms, the loner status, the background in how things went with the ex-wives, the rock music and rock musician potential (one having led more of the real lifestyle and one lacking the opportunity to but having the innate ability for it), both who ooze the brooding pessimism, etc….So even without having met this man, there was something encoded within me to have chosen these traits when choosing a mate.
It is said that we keep having situations attracted to us until we resolve them. And obviously this is a prime example for me. It is even more true to have been said for girls marrying their dads and boys marrying their moms, the Oedipus Complex. Apparently, I have fallen right in to that trap.
Yesterday I met with a friend who explores spirituality and psychology and philosophy much in a similar fashion to the way that I do. As we were discussing my present state of mind and how to become unstuck from my sick cycle of a carousel, she spoke of my need to forgive myself. She felt I needed to stop my self loathing and needed to forgive myself. I struggle with this concept because many of my hang ups were created from my childhood, when I was innocent and didn’t do anything to deserve the manipulation that was done to my mind which has become the voice which continues to play in my head on constant repeat. When she asked me to name one of the things that I struggle with that started when I was young and still continues, I named that I never feel smart enough. It turned into quite a visceral reaction (another thing I struggle with that I medicate in order to temper because that is something many people can’t handle about me, and it does become too exhausting for me as well). Feeling smart enough is a hard thing to feel confident about when I still have my dad letting me know (just a week and a half ago) that he doesn’t think so (even though I know he does), and my husband making comments that make me feel dumb from time to time. I have constant reminders when I might not be street smart enough or have an airheaded moment. They are always pointed out to me and I am made fun of for those moments.
I am starting to come to a conclusion that I am caught in another cluster cycle. One of a different strain this time, however. The headgames have just become what I do with some people in my life. I had to become good at them in order to mentally survive my childhood. Ignorance isn’t bliss in my world. With my intelligence constantly being challenged, I don’t like to feel as if the wool is being pulled over my eyes. I don’t like people thinking they can outsmart me and have control over me. I have tried to take the high road with these people, and when I have they only find some other way in the heat of the moment to take advantage of the fact that I am an empath and I don’t think fast on my feet and fear confrontation. And so I end up “losing” most fights. And so I have ended up playing their games back to them. Subtly letting them know in their own language that I am on to them and everything they try to hide from me and every way they try to get in my head. I let them know I am two steps ahead of them always. I never let on exactly how much I know but I always let them know in some way enough that they know the jig is up, and I watch them do a 180 and change their tactics.
Some people probably wonder if I do all of this manipulating and headgames, then doesn’t that make me a cluster b also? If you ask any of my nornal friends, they would all tell you that I don’t play any of those head games with them. I only do it with those who start them with me for survival purposes. One of these days this wolf will shed her sheep’s clothing and show that she really is the dominant wolf and she won’t be afraid of the vicious wolves any longer. For she has no need to scare with fear and gnarled teeth. She will lead with confidence and boundaries.
There is a question out there that asks, “Have you ever been so mad that you are calm?” I could also substitute the word mad for hurt. There have been a couple of times in my life that I have gotten to this point. And when I have, I have numbed out. I have flipped my Humanity Switch. The most significant time in my life that I did this I had done it for a span of about 4 years. It was after I got out a a relationship with an abusive ex boyfriend who was probably an NPD, and had just figured out about my dad being gay and confronting him about it. It was during this period of time that I ended up falling prey to my current situation. It seemed so opposite of everything I had known but subconsciously I must have known deep inside it was a return to home base, to the familiar.
My song of the day: Sheep by Pink Floyd
I know I’ve been MIA a bit…with my stepdaughter moving back in after her break up with her boyfriend and subsequent stay in the psych hospital, my life has been turned upside down again. I know this is the time I need to write the most, but I just haven’t even been able to pull myself together enough to do that. This is why I’m just trying to even drop this little note to get back in to it, even if only the first step. At least it serves as a reminder of what I need to do to keep sane through a time I can already feel myself sliding down a slippery slope, very quickly. As things start to settle in, I will make it a priority again to get back to writing here. It is essential for my well being. I haven’t even been able to express myself through my music, because the school year came to a culmination and I hadn’t even been able to get myself together enough to email everyone about scheduling, especially since I teach a decent amount out of my house, and my house has been a holy wreck for a month now due to my crazy end of the year recital stuff and my step daughter moving back in, which entails a whole ton of moving things around within our house to get a room ready for her again and moving a lot in to a storage unit. One big ball of chaos and in flux again. I just don’t know how much more of this life (style) I can handle. I’m tired of my life being shaken up by everyone else. It might be time for me to do some shaking of my own…
There are two emotions that I feel very predominantly in my life: Guilt and Fear. I have felt them for as long as I can remember. Many people throughout my life have instilled those two emotions in me and then perpetuated their continuation. Due to my comfort zone of “sameness”, I have allowed it to continue. I have come to the realization that so much of my guilt and fear (aside from the fear that is actual survival type Darwinian fear), stems from many of the characters throughout my life holding alot of shame about their own actions or about their own identities. Because they were so ashamed of themselves and feared others opinions, they instilled fear and guilt in me in an attempt to silence me. But it is out of their own shame. And so, doing something like what I am doing here, writing for myself, to get things out of my head, to vent, to complete strangers, under an alias, secretively, still causes me stress, guilt and fear. I fear that someone I am writing about will find this and be angry with me for expressing things I am “not allowed” to express otherwise. I feel guilty for not being able to say some of these things directly to these people because our communication is so far gone, and I am partially to blame for that as well, but I am broken. But I am trying. I try every day, all day, to fix myself. That is what I am trying to do here. But it wouldn’t be viewed as that. It would be viewed as me talking about them “behind their backs”. But I do honestly live by the fact that I wouldn’t say anything about someone behind their backs that I wouldn’t be willing to admit that I said about them to their face if confronted. And if I had a better communication line with these people, I would be able to work through these things with them. But somewhere along the line, fear was created in me and caused me to withdraw in to myself which prohibits me from having the ability to confront the things I am feeling directly with them. Or sometimes there are things that they are just not able to grasp because we are in different places of development as souls on this journey in life. I, personally, don’t think that I am doing anything wrong here by writing and expressing how I feel. And if any of the people I write about were doing the same about me, if they said things that I were hurt by, I would have a different reaction then they would. I wouldn’t be mad at them. I would be hurt. I would be hurt that they felt they couldn’t talk to me about how they were feeling. Especially if it was a flaw about me that I needed to work on. If they were being catty, then it just says something about them, and then that is their problem and then yes, I would be mad at them if they were calling me names. That’s a little different. But if they were just writing about their honest feelings and I came across it, I would just be hurt. But I am pretty confident that those I write about would be mad at me and take it out on me in some way thinking I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing. And on the one hand, yes I should have the courage to speak to them about it rather than “talking to strangers” about it, the reason I don’t is again fear. Because I have been met with so much anger in the past whenever I do try to bring up things that need to be worked out, that I don’t feel that much gets accomplished, or I don’t feel heard, or I feel invalidated, or I feel we go around in circles, or some other emotion is evoked that scares me or is pointless. But living with the constant thoughts that swirl in my head without being able to express them has truly been killing me for the past several years, and I need some outlet it has been a big contributor to my depression, and I need something, and this is one of my something’s. So I guess I will continue to live with the guilt and fear of being found out because it still beats the depression of living with the pent up thoughts and inner arguments and tail chasing. Because I do know that I am not wrong for doing this. I will deal with the consequences should I ever be found out for doing this. Sometimes fate inserts itself for a reason.
So, yesterday’s bully situation exploded in my face today. When doesn’t standing up for myself or my daughter backfires. Learning to love myself entails using my voice, defending what needs defending and not letting people walk all over me (or my daughter) any longer. And of course, just because I didn’t hear any of the specific words that were said by the girl running her mouth, I can’t really defend my position and it becomes hearsay/he said she said. The girl went and “told” on me to the teacher and her mother, who then emailed the school. She claims that someone else said something derogatory about my daughter and that she was defending my daughter. So, I get a call from the principal today to kindly reprimand me for my assumption about what it was that she was saying since I hadn’t actually heard what she said because the mother of the girl also emailed the teacher. So now I’m painted to be the bad guy because I didn’t approach the teacher. But I have approached teachers before, and in fact, my daughter one and only friend, her best friend, had issues with kids in the class and her mom had a conference with the teacher, guidance counselor and principal earlier this year and my daughter became a huge topic of her own conference about her daughter. Because she pointed out to all of them that her daughter is constantly put in the middle and kids tell her she can only hang out with their group at recess if she ditches my daughter. She told them all how mean the kids are to my daughter. Has anything changed this year when teachers and principals are told? No. By the end of this year my daughter is wanting to change schools for next year. I’m tired of leaving it up to everyone else. No one advocates for my daughter. The girl who was talking about my daughter has been known to say and do mean things to my daughter in the past, so I have NO reason in the world to believe that she has a sudden change of heart and is coming to my daughter’s defense. Her mother is also part of the “in crowd” over there at the school because my daughter attends a private school where those who volunteer and give lots of money to the school will always come out on top. And I’m not one of them. So of course I’m the bad parent who is making bad assumptions and scolding kids according to them that should have been handled by a teacher.
Everytime I speak out throughout my entire life, people try to shut me up and/or tell me I’m wrong. It is so defeating. I am tired of being complacent and feeling like everyone else in this world is right…..except me. Everyone else can get away with the same exact stuff that I say and do and defend, but it’s only ever me that gets told I’m wrong every single time, it’s only me who is constantly shoved down so far to the bottom of the trash pile that I do my own compacting. When I’m told over and over and over and over and over and over and over again that I am wrong, it’s pretty hard to tell myself and believe that I am right. Ever. It’s pretty hard to build self esteem and self love and have confidence enough to defend my honor and the honor of my daughter when everyone constantly tells me that everything I do or the way I do it is fucking wrong. I write here because this is the only place I feel validated. Very few in my real world of people validate me. Somehow, they tell me I’m wrong, or challenge everything I say or play devil’s advocate or tell me it’s not as bad as I make it out to be or compare it to something in their lives that are worse. I’m just done with it all. I’m tired of feeling guilty for speaking up. I’m tired of people telling me where my place is in this world. I decide where my place is in this world. Everyone else needs to stop trying to rule over me and put me in some sort of little box they can contain.
I’m tired of people being so insistent on holding all the cards and for feeling the need to dominate me and disagree with me and all my ways. I’ve let this type of thing push me back in to my shell every time I get push back. But this time it might just be the fuel to my fire. It might just be the anger drive I need to keep my convictions that I will stand ground and hold the power that they all actually do see and are trying to hold back because they are actually afraid of what could be unleashed if I am not contained. I think everyone who keeps pushing down on me sees me bubbling at the surface and is wholly afraid of real truth rather than their controlled world of “truth” and they know they need to keep me at Bay. So I will not be shaken by this. I refuse to feel guilty because I know how my daughter is treated there. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes time and again. And no one ever defends my child except her best friend. Ever. I had every right to do what I did and I don’t care if it wasn’t within the little container inside which the niceness committee wants to operate. Because their niceness is not going very far in protecting my child from the meanness she experiences, regardless of their claims for not tolerating that behavior. It happens every day right in front of their noses and when my friend brought it up to them in the meeting how mean everyone is to my daughter they all said they had no clue about that….Because no one there cares about her well being nor do they really watch or listen for what truly goes on over there. I’ve been a classroom teacher before and I know you can’t catch everything, but I also know that they are missing far more than they should. And I have every right to say that as a teacher who knows EXACTLY what it’s like.
So they can continue their assumptions about me, and I will continue mine about all of them…
The following words are from a Sociology paper I wrote back in college. While I still believe in my own words that I penned, there is but a slight difference. The view of my parents has been greatly altered. And I am proud that my views are still the same, despite the fact the parents are the type to hold money over my head after all, and that my parents didn’t sacrifice or give of themselves in the way I thought they had.
What I owe my parents and friends
To say that I owe something to someone suggests that I am in debt to someone and I am expected and required to repay that person or people. Where the word owe exists, love (namely unconditional love) cannot.
A true act of love, as performed by a friend or family member, is selfless. As a friend and family member myself, when I give of myself, in one way or another, I do not expect to be repaid. The only thing I can hope for of a loved one to whom I gave is appreciation. I hope that as I expect nothing in return that they appreciate what I have done for them and that they did not expect it of me in the first place. When I give of myself, I hope that there is someone or something of this world that can return that favor when I am in need. I shall never expect this of anyone in particular because there are several people with whom I associate in a love relationship, and of those people there are some more needy than others. I tend to give more to my needy associates and less to those who are at a better standing in life. Of those more needy of associates I hope for nothing in return because I give, knowing they are oft not in a position to return that which I did for them. I can only hope from my less needy associates for them to be there for me when I am in need, but this I do not expect, only hope.
In the case of my parents, I believe that my parents gave of themselves out of love for me, and where love exists, the word owe cannot. Therefore I owe my parents nothing. However, if my parents, or friends for that matter, are in need of something which I can give, I would expect it of myself to give to them because they have done the same for me, or would have if the situation were reversed. My parents have sacrificed much for me, and I believe that all they want, note not expect, is for me to appreciate what they have done for me, and for me to use those gifts of theirs to the best of my ability. I believe that my parents only want to see me succeed in life, and I believe that is what I can return to them. They sacrifice monetarily so that I can have a good education so that I can do well in life, not so that they can hold it over my head someday, although some people and parents do this. As my father always says, he might as well spend it now on me because it will only be less I get in the long run, because when they die I will inherit it all anyway. I believe that I should do the best I can in school, not only for myself because it is my life that will benefit or suffer, but also for my parents because they have sacrificed in order to give me a good education to help me succeed in life. I know that as a future parent this is what I desire from my children. I hope that I will bring them up in the right way so that they may sacrifice of themselves when I am in need as their parent, but this I cannot expect, once again, I can only hope.
When I do a favor for someone, or give of myself all I hope for is to be appreciated and for the favor to be returned if I am ever in need. I do not even expect the particular person I gave to necessarily to return that favor, but just that someone would be there for me when I am in need. I feel I owe nothing to anyone, but yet I am indebted to some and I intend to repay whether it be with appreciation or a shoulder to cry upon, and I can only hope that others view this in the same light as I.