Messages

[in the future]

My 'sis' still does that, in her hoovers: "I want to have a good relationship with you." Yet I know, from experience, that with her the relationship will always be exactly that: the 'good relationship' is (and has been) always something that will happen at some point in the future. There will never be a point, nor has there been a point where 'sis' says: "OK, it's good now, it's not something I want anymore, because we have a good relationship now, my needs are met."
The same blogger made a post about it, that I only read today, and it does strike home: Narcissists & The Art of Future-Faking

I'm not sure that they're actually lying, so much as that their idea of what a "good relationship" looks like is so warped and corrupted, that they can't understand the complaint that the relationship is bad.  I think they also can't see beyond themselves, so when the relationship is good for them, they think it's good for everyone, even when it's actively destructive to everyone else.  Which is sad, in it's own way. 

LOL @ stuffy elbows!   

On a more serious note:  I have psoriasis on my fingers, around my nail beds.  I seem to have the worst time with it when I'm under high stress.  If I can lower my stress, it fades quite a bit and is barely noticeable.

[proud]

Thanks, Pieces and Dutch Uncle 

Today I had an absolutely WONDERFUL conversation with my aunt, who has been through a lot of the same struggles I have (I suspect she has CPTSD as well -- if not from a malignantly narcissistic ex husband who at one point tried to kill her, then at least from the very screwed up upbringing she had) recently.  I found myself actually retelling all the accomplishments I've been making, all the headway, and feeling proud of myself without my inner critic taking over.  It was... I don't know how to describe it.  It felt so different than anything I'm used to feeling. 

We even got to talking about Cluster B people we keep winding up being around/involved with and why, and I got to suggest SpartanLifeCoach to her as a resource for getting tools to figure out the "whys" and "how to avoid this again" questions she had for herself. 

She's been making great strides of her own, after getting out of a bad relationship too, and I think maybe there's a bit of mirroring going on -- I see all the similarities to myself, and I can be proud of her, so I can be proud of me too.  Whatever it is, I'm just sort of reveling in this ability to feel pride in myself. 

Going completely NC is a really hard thing to do, and it's not surprising that you're needing support in continuing it.  I think it's pretty natural to hope for an eventual reconciliation, especially when it comes to enmeshed families.  This is someone (or multiple someones) who played a very large part in your life and probably shared a bunch of good times with you.  Wanting to be able to have that again, well, it's entirely understandable.

It's hard.  SO HARD.  To accept that this person (or persons) is fundamentally toxic for you, and is just not safe for you to interact with.  I've had that struggle in dealing with my mother.  I'm having that struggle in dealing with my most recent Ex.  I want, badly, to be able to go to them and share my happiness over things, but I know that doing that will just open me up to more hurt, more pain, more suffering, and set me backwards in my recovery.  It hurts again, every time I remind myself of that, and I imagine it will keep hurting for a long time. 

But you have support.  You have people who genuinely do want to see you have a brighter future.  I'm pretty sure that everyone here on this forum wants that for you.  I know I do, and I barely know you. 

I have faith that you can keep up the NC with your sis, and that you will be infinitely better for it both in the short term and the long term.   

Dutch Uncle --

You're very welcome.  Non-neurotypical persons are highly misunderstood, and I'm happy to try and provide any insight I can.

[back]

This may be disjointed, and bounce around a lot -- my brain makes connections in odd ways sometimes, and they don't always translate to neurotypical people.  So I apologize for that in advance.

---

When I was first diagnosed with PTSD (and it was just PTSD, because it was before anyone really identified CPTSD as being different), at the age of 25, my therapist at the time kept talking about getting me back to a place where I could feel safe.  "Try to remember back to a time where you felt safe, and visualize that time," she would tell me, as a way to try and manage my panic episodes.  I was perplexed that I couldn't do this thing she was asking of me.  There must be something wrong with me, I thought, that I couldn't remember ever feeling safe.  The whole concept of safety was something with which I just couldn't identify.  And when I tried to express this to my therapist, she was also perplexed.  She was stymied.  She reacted as if there was something wrong with me for not being able to remember or understand the concept of "safe" on a fundamental level. 

After that the treatment switched to trying to deal with my anxiety as if it was unfounded.  As if it were irrational.  But this didn't make sense to me either.  Bad Things had happened to me.  Bad Things happened to people I knew.  Bad Things happened every day around the world.  It was a completely reasonable assumption to make that Bad Things could, and would, happen again in the future.  Finally, in a fit of frustration and most probably an emotional flashback triggered by having my feelings denied and belittled by someone I was supposed to trust, who was supposed to provide me with support and understanding, I yelled at her.  I yelled "Why am I the crazy one for being afraid?  BAD THINGS happen all the time!  Bad Things happen every second of every day!  Why isn't everyone scared of all those things? Why does me being afraid mean that I need treatment, that I'm broken, that I need to be FIXED?  Fix the Bad Things!  Fix the people who do them!  They're the ones that are broken, NOT ME!"  That was my last therapy session for over a decade.  I went off medication not very much longer after that.  I had no treatment since, beyond the work I did on myself through reading and internet searches, until just recently.

I didn't know it at the time, I wasn't aware enough, but that was the first and biggest breakthrough in taking steps towards loving and accepting myself -- towards recognizing that I was having completely normal reactions to a very long string of extremely abnormal situations.   It's still something that I remind myself of, when my inner critic is going wild and accusing me of being "nuts" or "crazy" or "broken".  It's something that I'm reminding myself of now, while writing this.  Because writing these things for random strangers (no offense) to read, publishing it out there on the internet where it could possibly exist forever, or be found by the people who've hurt me... It's a hard thing.  It's an incredibly vulnerable thing, letting people see the "broken" pieces of myself. 

I wasn't allowed to do that, as a child -- let people see the bruised and hurt bits of myself.  At best, I was ignored.  At worst... Well, at worst those bruised and hurt bits were used against me to cause me more pain.  My mother, I'm pretty darned sure, is Cluster B in some way or another.  Narcissistic definitely.  Possibly Borderline and/or Histrionic.  Of course she's never been diagnosed.  She thinks too highly of herself to consult a therapist or psychiatrist for herself.  Everything is always everyone else's fault, somehow.  No one can ever do anything right, because the only right way is not just her way, but to actually be her. 

Where was I going with this?  Oh.  Right.  I wasn't comforted as a child.  At least, I can't remember being comforted.  I'm not even sure I'd have recognized what being comforted looked like if it weren't for seeing it on television.  The idea that someone would hold you as you cried, reassure you, validate you, and tell you that everything would be alright... It's something that was so alien to me.  It's still alien to me.  And yet, it's something that I feel like I need, desperately.  No matter how much I try to give it to myself, it's not the same.   

But I've been able to get back on medication recently, and in taking the anti-anxiety medication I've realized that I have been afraid of my own emotions.  Not just of feeling them, but of what might happen because of them.  Because having feelings meant Bad Things would happen.  Because having feelings would cause other people to have feelings and that meant that Bad Things would happen.  Being freed of that fear, by the medication, even just a little bit, has finally allowed me to get close enough to my own emotions to identify what they are.  It's allowed me to acknowledge and feel my anger.  It's allowed me to finally start grieving for myself.  And that's not something I've really been able to do, before.  So it's a HUGE step forward.

I went to an autism society therapist who works with non-aspie family members and he refused such help as they tend to be incapable of introspection and understanding of their words/behaviors on "others". Hence: that is what autism is. An explicitly clear sight of what they perceive: not what others perceive. They cannot empathize.

Understanding that you have PTSD requires no "mind blindness" and the ability to self reflect and understand "others" emotions. I don't think it is possible for them to have PTSD because they can't process, introspectively: on that level.

I have to say, as someone who registers on the autism spectrum, that all of that is quite false, to an insulting degree. If you were told this by a counselor of some sort, seek out a different one, as that one is a quack.

If anything, those who are non-neurotypical empathize too greatly with the outside world. We feel others' emotions as if they were our own, because we lack the "filters" a neurotypical person has. This causes overstimulation, which can lead to extreme withdrawal from contact, or lashing out. Because interactions are painful.

The "bad behavior" comes from an inability to interface with people, and an inability to "read" body language the same way a neurotypical person would.

These symptoms vary in intensity, and lumping all autistic spectrum persons into this depiction of a malignant narcissist is completely inappropriate.

We feel. We empathize. We introspect. Sometimes even more than neurotypical persons. We have self awareness, and self control.  We're not psychopaths.

I understand you have a lot of anger over your situation. But please, don't scapegoat all non-neurotypical persons.

Just about all of these things are already things that I do for myself, fairly regularly.  Hot baths, especially, with candles and bubbles, because one of my anxiety/stress/EF symptoms is that I get cold and can't warm up.  And yes, they can help calm me down.  However, sometimes they can be triggering.

It's not so much feelings of guilt.  Although, there were definitely times in my life that I felt guilty about doing nice things for myself -- in fact, there were times in the past where I would even "punish" myself by actively denying myself good things if I felt I hadn't done "enough" (for example, not allowing myself to go out if I hadn't washed the dishes) .

Now, however, it's got nothing to do with that.  I've moved forward in my "dealing process" (I prefer calling it a dealing  process over and above a healing process or a recovery process, because it doesn't imply that there's going to be an "end date" that I have to live up to) enough that I know that I deserve nice things, that I deserve to be treated well, regardless of what else is going on in my world. 

Instead, it's that I deal with intense and overwhelming issues with abandonment -- both emotional and physical.  I can count on one hand the number of times that I remember my mother comforting me, for example.  So I grew up having to soothe myself.  I've spent the majority of my life having to soothe and comfort myself.  Having to do so now is a reminder of the idea that there is no one else willing to do that loving thing for me, that I am alone, that the only person who cares about me that much is me.  Sometimes it only makes me sad.  Sometimes it only makes me feel lonely.  Other times, it causes full on EF meltdowns.   Soothing and comforting from another person, someone that I'm attached to, is something that I desperately want -- I might even say need.  Doing it for myself... Doesn't fill that need.

Just throwing this out here to see if anyone else can identify:

My main tool to manage panic, right now while I'm not on meds, is to dissociate.  It's not perfect, but drowning my thoughts/feelings in a TV show is the best medicine I've got at the moment.  I have an appointment with a Psychiatrist in a few days to get on medication, but until then I've been surviving on Netflix and Hulu to calm myself down and allow me to be relatively functional (since I can leave the TV on, and listen to it, while I do chores around the house, work on my art, cook dinner, etc.). 

Today, however, I ran into some technical difficulties with my streaming device, and shows/movies wouldn't load.  Normally that wouldn't bother me too much.  I'm tech savvy, I can usually fix any technical problem.  But, because I was already in a state of high anxiety from a triggering situation earlier, I found myself fumbling, and panicking because I couldn't get it fixed -- and thus, didn't have my dissociative "crutch" to handle the panic, which caused it to sort of spiral out of control. 

Is this sort of thing something any of you have encountered with your "go to" dissociative activities?  I found it so totally disconcerting that not being able to put on a TV show for a half an hour or so could cause me to dissolve into such a panicky meltdown... That alone caused fear -- the idea that I'm dependent on a television screen to be able to function is... Well, the whole Inner Critic thing goes into overdrive over that. 

I know that I'm doing the best I can, with what I have available to me.  I know that I'm working SO HARD on getting better, and healing, and being functional.  My T tells me every time I see her how well I'm doing, how proud she is that I'm doing as much as I am.  But damn.  Not being able to dissociate, not having that distraction from my thoughts and feelings, scared the living daylights out of me for a little bit -- at least, until I found a work-around and got a TV show going. 

I'm still a little... Shook up?  Disturbed?  Upset?  I'm not sure of which emotion, exactly, I'm feeling other than fear, over it.  There's probably some shame mixed in, because ICr won't shut up... I do know I'm shocked over my reaction.  I knew I depended on TV to help manage my emotions, I just hadn't realized to what extent until today. 

CPTSD isn't an official diagnosis in the US either (or anywhere, really, though it's being pushed to be added to the DSM).  Commonly, it's diagnosed simply as PTSD, regardless of the source.  That's what my "official" diagnosis is -- PTSD.  It's just that mine is the result of long term childhood trauma. 

Taking your time and really thinking about it before you reply is definitely a good idea

I know my "template" is a bit on the bold side.  I know that I've just found that giving too much explanation to an abuser gives them more ammo, not less, and feeds the cycle. 

I'd point out that if the end goal really is to not see or talk to her, you have control over whether or not that happens.  Even your edited message seems to be trying to control her behavior, or, rather, get her to control her own behavior.  And that's kind of futile, though it's a natural inclination.  Deep down, I think we all want to be able to trust our family members to treat us with respect and honor our boundaries -- and even help us protect them from other people's breaches of them.   But, sometimes, that's just not a realistic desire.  And, given all you've said about your situation, it doesn't sound like something that's likely to happen here, no matter how hard you try.

So, the other option is to just, well, not reply at all.  Sure, it's polite to reply, and it's polite to state your boundaries, what the consequences are, and give someone a chance to follow them.  But if someone's not shown themselves to be trustworthy about respecting boundaries?  You don't need to be polite.  Sometimes just ceasing contact on your own is enough to send the message. 

That's how I've handled things with my mother (uNPD).  I didn't inform her of my boundaries before enforcing them.  I didn't list off the consequences.  I knew that doing that would just incite criticism from her, more boundary violation, more attempts to undermine me and manipulate me.  So I just stopped talking to her unless it was absolutely necessary.  I only responded to emails that were necessary (i.e. family business that required my input).  I would answer her phone calls, in case it was something family business/emergency related, but the moment I didn't like the conversation I said I had to go and hung up.  I ignore her texts, if they're not urgent.  Now, when I do talk to her, she's much more reserved about how she speaks to me, and tends to keep things civil.  If she ever slips, I say I have to go and hang up.  I haven't seen her, face to face, in 5 years.  And I don't plan on changing that any time soon, barring some sort of death in the family or something else catastrophic happening. 

It was hard to do, at first.  I felt like a horrible person, not doing the "polite" thing by replying, or staying on the phone.  But I wasn't being a horrible person.  I was protecting myself from an abuser.  Realizing how much happier and stable I was, not talking to her, helped make maintaining that boundary on my own easier, and I feel a lot less bad about it now. 

[will]

The way I see it, expressing any emotion whatsoever is giving her what she desires -- a reaction from you.

If it were me, I would clearly state my boundary, clearly state what the consequences of breaking that boundary are, and do it in the least emotional, most detached way possible while still remaining polite.

So, perhaps I would say something like:

Dear <sister's name>,

I'm sorry, but I will not be meeting you now, nor in the future, in <city> or elsewhere.

While I would love for us to have a healthy relationship, it has become clear to me that you are unwilling to engage me with the respect necessary to make that happen.  So it is with regret that I must request that you cease contacting me in any way, shape, or form. 

Please do not call me, do not write to me, and do not visit me.

If you cannot honor my wishes on this matter, I will take action to enforce no-contact between the two of us that may include, but is not limited to, <what sort of things you'd do if she broke the boundary -- perhaps block her phone number, block her email address, file a restraining order with the courts, have police remove her from your residence, whatever it is that seems appropriate to you that you absolutely will follow through on> . 

Signed,
<name>

My CPTSD has definitely not helped my art.  It may have inspired a certain number of works, but overall?  No, it's been a hinderance.  The thoughts of "not being good enough", the feelings that I can't possibly make a living at doing something I'm so mediocre at, the lack of energy and focus to be able to practice... Those things have held me back with my art.  It's only recently that I've been able to shove many of those thoughts away and recognize my potential, my talent, enough to really buckle down and work at it as more than just a hobby.

So, instead, my art has helped my CPTSD.  My art allows me an outlet for all the pain I have, in a way that allows me to take it and turn it into something positive and beautiful.  Art is therapy, for me.

I would argue that there is a fine line between creativity and "madness", though.  In order to create truly emotional work, we must be in touch with our emotions on a deeper level than the average person.  We have to explore our dark places as well as our light ones, if we wish to create things that are provocative.  While anyone, regardless of their level of pain or suffering, can hone their technical skills in a medium until they are as close to perfect as possible, that's not the same thing as creativity.  Creativity comes from looking at a subject in a different way than expected and/or socially acceptable.  That... Doesn't happen as much if you never experience much in the way of strife, or are not on the "fringes" of society in some way.  I think that is, perhaps, what Berryman was referring to -- not the skill with which a piece is executed, but how evocative or novel the subject matter the artist undertakes is.  And my pain does, indeed, influence the art I make.  It causes it to veer in directions that it wouldn't otherwise.  It makes my darks darker, and my lights lighter.  It gives my art a vibrance that I think wouldn't be there otherwise -- but only after I get past those self-critical roadblocks.

Dutch Uncle -- while you have an interesting point, just because a culture experienced a quiet moment, that doesn't mean that the people living within the culture lacked pain and suffering.  In fact, one of the examples you gave (Mozart) experienced a great deal of suffering and pain over the course of his life.  And some of those examples, while they were stable empires, were far from peaceful, calm, or without strife and/or suffering.  The Egypt of the Pharaohs  survived on the backs of a huge slave class, who were whipped, malnourished , and otherwise harmed in a great many ways.  Even for those who didn't come from the slave class, pestilences were problematic, living under the rule of religious dictators isn't exactly stress or strife free.   The Tudors, again, similar -- albeit with serfs rather than "slaves", and add in a bunch of added violence from skirmishes with other leaders.  Abuse, by family members, by the government, were far more rampant during the time periods you mention than they are now.  Torture was a pretty normal thing, in many of those cultures, for even petty infractions.  Poverty and illness were more than average.  Plagues, famine, wars... It all happened with more frequency than it does now for those of us in the modern world.  So trying to say that the art in those cultures came from people who were "drama and trauma free"  isn't really appropriate, in my opinion anyway. 

So, a bit of an update...

They're taking me off the Prazosin, as I've had an adverse reaction to it. 

Apparently, because it lowers your blood pressure, something that can happen is that your heart drops into overdrive trying to bring it back up.  That happened to me, today, just after an increase in the dose.  Dizziness, lightheadedness, racing/pounding heart beat, chest pain, higher than normal blood pressure.  Had to go in for an EKG and everything.  It was unfun, to say the least.  But, all's well.  They say the blood pressure should normalize in a day or two, and the soreness in my chest should go away within the same time period. 

So... I guess I don't get to find out if it helps with the nightmares.  lol. 

Waterman --

While I'm glad that meditation works so well for you:

Berating people who have expressed having adverse reactions to a treatment modality, making indirect accusations that they "don't want it to work", and basically blaming them for the treatment's failure, is extremely invalidating and re-traumatizing to those people.  It is reactions like yours to my valid issues with meditation that actually increase my difficulty with it. 

I won't be posting in this thread again either, as it's been made abundantly clear that me and my experiences aren't welcome.