Recovering Gently

[Gently]

....having lost her rag, my M would then sometimes take me to do the 'fun' thing, by which time it was no fun at all. 

This reminds me of a powerful scene in the movie "It's a Wonderful Life" with Jimmy Stewart. George, typically a doting father and loving husband, is going through a crisis in his life and trying to handle it himself. He's desperate, angry. All of his insecurities and unresolved anger and resentments are surfacing. He's is a state, and he goes home lost and confused. It's Christmas time, he has a lot of kids and his family life is a beautiful tableau of happy chaos. He can't handle it, and snaps at his youngest. The youngest is unfazed, knowing his father loves him, secure. George continues to be snippy, his wife senses his stress and relies on her trusted ability to calm and soothe him. It doesn't work. It all comes to a climax when he can't tolerate his daughter's piano practice, start and stop, start and stop. He yells at her to stop. She protests at first because she needs to know this piece for the families, evidence that normally she is allowed to protest something her Father has said. He repeats his demand that she stop. She stops, but doesn't cry. Not yet.

He catches himself, he recovers himself and feels bad about what he's done. He wants it all to go back to how it was before he blew his top. He apologizes, to his daughter, to his family. He tells her to go ahead and practice again. He asks his son to repeat his question to him. He says: What's wrong, go ahead and play! What's wrong with everyone?

Here's the moment that counts: the kids are no longer in an emotionally secure state. They are rocked, and no longer trust him. The attachment has been ruptured and needs repair. They can see that he is not yet safe. The daughter stands, frozen, not returning to the piano, crying, now. The son says: It's okay Daddy, it doesn't matter."

Here is where George really looses himself. He is enraged that his family will not cooperate with his desire for everything he did to be erased. He can't tolerate the reality of what he is doing to them, that they won't pretend with him that it's okay, that he's okay.

His wife, Mary, speaks up for her children, speaks up against her husband's emotional abuse, and says: Geroge, why must you torture the children. Why don't you leave?

Torture. It's torture to mistreat, misuse, abuse, harm someone, and then require them to help you pretend that they have not been harmed by it to save your own feelings about what you've done.

I love that Mary stood up to him like that. She is holding onto the two younger ones and standing in front of all of them, facing George off. Amazing.

Of course, in this movie, George is not an abuser and Mary can see that he is going through something and needs help. She proceeds to get help, loving him, AND disallowing him to cause more harm to her (and his) beloved family.

You didn't deserve to be treated that way because you asked for something, NarcKiddo. You deserved to be delighted in, and shown by example the beauty of life and joy and love. We all deserve a M who would stand against mistreatment and protect us. I hope, for both of us, that we can let our H's delight and love sink in deep enough to be able to trust it, at least with them.

[Gently]

The part that keeps standing out to me is that you're not waiting for the difficult feelings to disappear before choosing what is kind, protective, or even joyful for yourself.

That feels like such meaningful progress. 

I'm glad you're becoming someone you can rely on from the inside.

Thank you for your encouragement, TBB. I opened this forum this morning feeling a lot of pain. Looking at encouragements is hard for me. I tend to bounce off of them. I asked myself to stay with the encouragement in your post and others this morning, let it push through. It was uncomfortable, but it started to till the soil of my phyche, soften it, allowed the encouragement sink in. Now, after engaging with folks here, I feel better, calmer. It still hurts, but I feel less alone.

[NarcKiddo]

[TheBigBlue]

 

[HannahOne]

Gently, I can relate to finding it difficult to receive encouragement, or emotional support, or other good things. I think many of us can, given our history of relational trauma. We either rarely received encouragement and support so got used to being without it, or received it in a way that was confusing, scary, or hurtful.

The forum can be a good place to try things out, as we're anonymous, and it's by text writing so you control the pace and tone. And because we try here to be kind and respect boundaries, we have common experiences with CPTSD.

Glad you could let as much in as is right for you right now, at your own pace and discretion. 

[Gently]

A neat thing happened yesterday after engaging with some of you in this forum.

Before I got out of bed, I was pondering my day and felt that I wanted to do something fun, something enjoyable. But I was on my own, and that has always been a barrier for me. I've been feeling that lately, the impulse towards fun. I want adventure. That's new. Before, I felt mostly a need to be distracted from unpleasant feelings, or I make a big effort to go ahead and do something because I have interest but the feeling of fun and delight was overshadowed by the fog and the dull constant psychic burden.

Anyway, I went with the impulse for fun and it said "ping pong". There are public ping pong tables in a new community space along the river which my husband and I have enjoyed using this summer. He was working yesterday, so I was on my own and needed a partner. I immediately texted my daughter who lives very close by to see if she was interested in taking a break from her work to play with me.

Just sending that text to her felt so supportive, to say "yes" to the impulse for fun, to take action to see if I could make it happen. It was almost enough in itself.

A few minutes later, as I was getting ready for my day, my mind imagined riding my e-bike to do my errands along with going to play ping pong, rather than walking. For the few seconds my mind imagined this idea, there were feelings of energy, delight, joy, mojo, self confidence and self esteem that went with it. Happiness. It felt like a lovely daydream. Then, almost so subtle that it almost just blended into the background, came "Who do you think you are." and then all the happy feelings vanished and I was ashamed that I'd had the idea. I felt like an intruder, an interloper, a fraud, unworthy.

Here's the neat thing: I noticed.

This voice has happened to me so much that I never noticed the voice saying the thing. I've known for a long time that there has been a barrier to me being able to freely do the things that I want to do, especially when it's just for me. But yesterday, I heard it. And when I heard it, my mind was able to say "Wait a minute. What?"

It was profound. I was able to address this part of me directly, I will say it is a bullying part who is now being taught the new way of things. But it is definitely a bullying part. I will not say a "bully" because I believe in transformation. She is uncomfortable, having to watch while those of us who want to have fun and try things go ahead and do things without being under her influence. But the bullying part has been moved aside for now so that others can enjoy themselves in freedom. I will probably engage with that part at some point to see what she needs, but right now I need to let her watch and learn a different world so she can participate instead of controlling.

I went on my bike to do my errands. I went down to the river. My daughter was not able to join me yesterday, but I had a wonderful time. It was exhilarating. I loved it.

When I heard the bullying voice, actually heard it, and then did the internal self care for the part that was shamed. I knew that I was primed to hear it and see it and engage with it because of the dialogue here with you folks, especially the theme I explored with NarcKiddo about bullying and shaming M's about our wanting to do things.

So, wow. This is what group work does, listening to each other's stories and engaging with each other.

Thank you for being here and reading and talking with me.

 

[Gently]

My beloved bike 

[NarcKiddo]

Looking forward to seeing the bike picture when it gets approved.

I'm so happy you got to go to the river and ride your bike. I am very pleased for you that you heard the bullying part, and acknowledged her, and did not cave in. But also that you were not angry at the bullying part - for she likely is in some distress and may have an idea that this bullying is important. You have said that you will probably engage with her at some point. So she knows this and hopefully will be content to watch and learn for the time being.

 

[HannahOne]

Hooray for noticing!!

Hooray for noticing "feelings of energy, delight, joy, mojo, self confidence and self esteem"!

Hooray for parts working together, leaning back, and trusting You to lead the way!

[HannahOne]

Hi Gently.

I'm not a therapist or any kind of expert, I can only speak to my own experience and what I've read and learned as a parent myself trying to do better. You can see what may apply to your experience. I'm so sorry you have adoption trauma. It's very real.

In my experience my attachment patterns became more visible to me, and therefore more easy to navigate. The painful feelings eased, but never "go away." I wouldn't actually want them to go away as I think of them as "part of me," part of me that needs care and concern. For me, thinking of myself this way was very helpful because it made sense of the emotional flashbacks, which are like being an injured/neglected baby, and the fact that I'm actually an adult, who knows how to soothe babies. Both at the same time. It used to be disorganizing to experience the emotional flashback of the "inner baby" but realizing I am both an adult and a baby at the same time was organizing for me.

Both at the same time is part of what disorganized attachment is. It's wanting to go toward the adult, for safety, and also wanting to run from the adult, because the adult is dangerous. Both at the same time. You can read about the "strange situation," if you want to, but it may be triggering.

It's this "both at the same time" that's the wound and for me, was also the soothing of that wound. The wound, for me, can't be "cured" in the sense that I can't go back in time. And, in the present, I can turn toward myself, or toward that part of me, and soothe it. Which soothes the "inner baby." How that soothing looks will be different for different people.

It IS Very primal, preverbal. So for me, I find it helpful to notice that I'm having this experience, turn toward it inside. Something nonverbal, like putting my hand on my chest. At first this felt so cheesy or silly but actually I now find it very helpful. I also do verbally name the feeling, and try to associate it to a past experience if I can. "In the past, Y happened and you felt X." Sometimes I say, "In the present, I'm here with you and you are safe." Sometimes I say to myself, "What can I do for you right now?" Often I need a drink of water, a snack, to lie down, to step outside, or I'm hot or cold. All these physical discomforts are very triggering for me of these states and flashbacks. Relational dynamic and needs can also trigger the feelings.

Since I have developed a more secure attachment to myself, within parts of myself, my attachments to other people are more regulated, easier, I'm less often triggered, less often have emotional flashbacks to painful feelings. It still happens for sure, but when it does, I know that often the disorganization is happening within me. Other times of course, the other person IS somehow not meeting my needs, not being fair, crossing boundaries, etc.

Overall I'm in a much easier place and feel much more regulated and in less inner pain. But the way to that was through, to be _with_ the pain in a safe way. Because that's what went wrong in the first place, no one was with my pain, no one noticed or turned toward, or they were with my pain in a way that was more painful and less safe. 

I hope something in these thoughts is helpful.

[Gently]

Hi Gently.

I'm not a therapist or any kind of expert, I can only speak to my own experience and what I've read and learned as a parent myself trying to do better. You can see what may apply to your experience. I'm so sorry you have adoption trauma. It's very real.

In my experience my attachment patterns became more visible to me, and therefore more easy to navigate. The painful feelings eased, but never "go away." I wouldn't actually want them to go away as I think of them as "part of me," part of me that needs care and concern. For me, thinking of myself this way was very helpful because it made sense of the emotional flashbacks, which are like being an injured/neglected baby, and the fact that I'm actually an adult, who knows how to soothe babies. Both at the same time. It used to be disorganizing to experience the emotional flashback of the "inner baby" but realizing I am both an adult and a baby at the same time was organizing for me.

Both at the same time is part of what disorganized attachment is. It's wanting to go toward the adult, for safety, and also wanting to run from the adult, because the adult is dangerous. Both at the same time. You can read about the "strange situation," if you want to, but it may be triggering.

It's this "both at the same time" that's the wound and for me, was also the soothing of that wound. The wound, for me, can't be "cured" in the sense that I can't go back in time. And, in the present, I can turn toward myself, or toward that part of me, and soothe it. Which soothes the "inner baby." How that soothing looks will be different for different people.

It IS Very primal, preverbal. So for me, I find it helpful to notice that I'm having this experience, turn toward it inside. Something nonverbal, like putting my hand on my chest. At first this felt so cheesy or silly but actually I now find it very helpful. I also do verbally name the feeling, and try to associate it to a past experience if I can. "In the past, Y happened and you felt X." Sometimes I say, "In the present, I'm here with you and you are safe." Sometimes I say to myself, "What can I do for you right now?" Often I need a drink of water, a snack, to lie down, to step outside, or I'm hot or cold. All these physical discomforts are very triggering for me of these states and flashbacks. Relational dynamic and needs can also trigger the feelings.

Since I have developed a more secure attachment to myself, within parts of myself, my attachments to other people are more regulated, easier, I'm less often triggered, less often have emotional flashbacks to painful feelings. It still happens for sure, but when it does, I know that often the disorganization is happening within me. Other times of course, the other person IS somehow not meeting my needs, not being fair, crossing boundaries, etc.

Overall I'm in a much easier place and feel much more regulated and in less inner pain. But the way to that was through, to be _with_ the pain in a safe way. Because that's what went wrong in the first place, no one was with my pain, no one noticed or turned toward, or they were with my pain in a way that was more painful and less safe. 

I hope something in these thoughts is helpful.

ALL of this is extremely helpful, HannahOne. So much I can relate to. Much of your practice is also becoming my practice. I expect I will read through your post many times as a reminder that my way of moving through life is not so unusual that there aren't others who move through life in the same way.

I am encouraged that you are finding more ease and less pain in general, and are able to discern when what feels like an internal reaction is actually another person being problematic and your response to them is accurate.

It feels supportive to see that your path has been similar to mine, and that you seem to be farther down the road.

Thank you for taking the time to share your experiences.

 

[HannahOne]

Solidarity, Gently!  It's so wonderful to have this forum to find others who are in a similar process. I feel so much less alone since coming here, and that itself is very healing. 

[Gently]

A lot has happened since I was here last. The reporting part of me wants to log it all right off the bat, but I came here to write something specific, current.

I had a conversation with my husband last night. During that conversation, I made an effort to do more listening than talking. He does not typically process and share his thoughts and feelings, but he is on the brink of his own personal journey to his inner self in therapy. He had spent time processing his emotional experiences from a difficult day, which he has never done for himself before. Now, he was wanting to share with me what his experience of that day was.

I want him to do this. I have been encouraging him to know what he thinks, wants, and feels since we got together about 13 years ago. I am also terrified of him doing this, because what he thinks and wants and feels will inevitably have something to do with me and something I'm doing that he doesn't like.

He talked, I listened. I also talked, added my context for the time we spent together on the day he had been reflecting on. It was okay.

I was scared that he was going to drop some huge bomb about himself, or us, or me. I'm not used to him being emotionally affected, or taking time to think. He was "off kilter" emotionally for two and a half days. To me, it seemed like some huge revelation was taking place.

In the end, he really was just trying to come to terms with his own emotions from the day. As I reflect on what he said, there was not much about me at all in what he shared. He just said what had happened, and what he felt.

After we talked, he said it was good, he felt good. I was glad to have heard from him, too. I was worried about him, but also worried about "us", whether he was okay with me, still.

The thing I'm noticing is that I tend to make things "about me", internally. I know it comes out that way externally, too. I take what he is saying, and my brain organizes it into my own framework, my own universal picture of what "makes sense". I don't just hear him say things about himself as a separate entity.

The song that goes "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you, don't you." has popped into my mind.

I'm not trying to be critical and judgmental of myself, or hard on myself. I'm trying to understand my behaviour.

Okay, I'm used to scanning my environment for threats. When my husband has an emotionally charged experience and takes time to sort out his feelings and thoughts, I am of two minds: I see the good of it because I've experienced it myself, AND I am quietly nursing a sense of foreboding about what he might be finding out.

So, I expected some kind of commentary about myself, his feelings towards something I'd done on the day which he had been reflecting on. I don't think that really happened, when I look back on it.

But I was ready for it. And I countered some of what he shared, trying to balance the narrative.

I countered, or added my own content. I "filled in the picture." But, the thing is, the picture I was filling in was my picture. He was telling me about his picture. What I was doing was taking his picture and adding it to my own big picture, as if his picture is only one small part of the big picture I carry in my own head.

Somehow, I feel like the narrator of the big picture, the one who is in charge of creating it and maintaining it. When something goes amiss, doesn't seem right in the picture, I need to hunt down the error or omission and correct it. When external content is offered or provided, I need to check with the big picture and make sure it "makes sense". If it doesn't, I need to refute it or question it or investigate it until it does.

But, what does that do to the other person who is telling me something about themselves?

After we had our conversation, I felt uneasy that I had maybe somehow controlled the conversation. I had been listening to content about narcissistic recovery, and I often sense that I tend to use similar behaviours to control my environment, to keep myself safe. I asked my husband if he felt I had listened to him.

He told me that there were a couple of times when it felt to him like I had absorbed what he was saying about himself and his feelings into my own big picture, like I had appropriated his content for myself. When he said that, I recalled times when my friends had done that to me and what it felt like. If feels like my thing about myself is not relevant, does not have substance because it already happens in their life. My thing is not a thing of its own because it's already happened for them. It's redundant, and doesn't count.

So, I know that feeling, that feeling he was telling me about. Guess how I answered him when he gave me that feedback? "Yeah, I know what that is like. I have friends who do that to me and it feels like my thing doesn't count." So, I did it back to him, in real time.

I know that my husband getting healthier will require me to continue to become healthier in my relationship with him. I am not used to being able to trust my intimate partner with things like this, relational mutuality and trust. I don't know how much he can trust me because of the lack of trust I have been carrying. I know he can trust me to WANT to listen and show compassion and care from a differentiated posture.

I have just begun to learn to show compassion and care to myself. It will take time and practice to test whether doing that with him is safe.

I am realizing that I still need to dismantle a framework for relationships of managing and massaging others' experience of me so that they will be happy with me, or at least not unhappy with me, or to make sure they have the correct perception of me.

I realize that I am actually afraid of him becoming more powerful in our interpersonal dynamic, that I feel more comfortable and safe having a little bit more power in our relationship dynamic than he does, that the only way for me to be safe is if I have a little bit more power because I can't trust others not to use their power to hurt me.

It's not in all things, or in all situations, or on all topics, though. It's when I feel vulnerable, probably. Unique spaces and times when it feels more vulnerable for me.

I have had to function for years from the need to protect my Self from lies and distortions, to protect Reality from crazy making and gaslighting tactics.

My husband doesn't use any tactics at all. He does not function by trying to control his outer world to protect his inner world. Instead, he uses a lot of control over his inner world to smooth over his outer world, which makes his words and feelings and actions often in tension with each other, and causes him to send conflicting and confusing signals, which is triggering for me because in the past the conflicting signals were meant to trip me up and keep me off kilter on purpose. He isn't trying to do that, he's just a bit of a conundrum to himself so his signals are confusing.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day that was the subject of his reflections was a profound day for me. It was the first time in my adult life that I can remember being aware of the tension and unresolved conflict in an intimate relationship, and being able to tolerate it.

I was aware of the tension in my husband that day about different things, and his conflicting feelings and behaviour about what he wanted. But I didn't manage it for him or mitigate it for him. I was feeling quite calm and enjoying myself. I did not have the same needs as he did that day, but intentionally made room for him to influence our decisions as the day unfolded at different points in time. But I didn't make changes happen for him based on what I could feel off of him.

This is fairly new in my recovery. Having been so expert at reading what other people feel and want and then making it happen for them before they even know it is a super power I'm trying to put down. I've been trying to hang up my cape!

It seems to be working, for me, anyway. I had a lovey day. I could see that he was struggling, but I didn't take it onto myself. Amazing! So strange to feel that, and at the same time it felt so right and normal. I felt so settled, calm, secure.

I've begun to stop carrying that load for him, and now he is beginning to pick it up for himself. Things will change, and it will be uncomfortable for both of us. I need to learn different ways of relating and building trust, to not manage everything, to make space for him and his thoughts and feelings as a separate entity from me.

So, I was defensive when he gave me the feedback that I actually asked him for. I am here to process my feelings about the feedback, the tendency to spiral into a perfectionistic shame spiral.

I am not perfect. I don't need to be perfect. I still have things to learn. I want to learn, to build trust within myself and with others. That won't come automatically. I don't know everything, and I don't need to know everything. I'm allowed to be wrong, to have done something that isn't good for someone else, and I'm allowed to want to learn to do things differently for the good of all.

For the good of all, but always, always, for my good, too.

I don't have to be pushed down in order to lift someone else up. And others don't need to be pushed down to keep me safe. Not anymore.



 

[HannahOne]

Gently, thank you for sharing. It sounds like you're noticing areas of new growth, and curiosity to explore that, with a little trepidation. Growing up, needing to make sense of the big picture to feel safe makes sense. A child can't conceive of a separate person having their own picture, that comes later in development. Now perhaps you have a new sense of safety allowing more space and new awareness. I'm happy for you!

I've been exploring communication and negotiation in my own relationships and am very interested in how two people can have entirely different experiences of the same event---and how to not collapse that distance, and still connect. I learned a lot from your reflection.

[Gently]

...and how to not collapse that distance, and still connect.
 

I love this picture of protecting rather than collapsing the distance, that the distance is a valuable thing in itself, difference is beautiful, and connection is still possible. Maybe even more possible? Or more robust because it doesn't rely on sameness? And that the difference doesn't erase any one person's reality, or erase any Person.

Thank you!