That's not so bad, right? Wife2's journey to understanding - and yes - triggers

[Wife#2]

Still triggered. Got through last night by keeping to myself mostly. That's not easy. Hubby is trying to show more affection because today is his birthday, he wants certain things and they are only available when he's been 'filling the account' with affection and attention towards me. So, he's trying, I'm pulling back and it's not for the reasons he thinks. I hate leaving him so confused. I also don't want to ruin his birthday.

But, the holidays have me triggered badly this year, worse than ever before. And that's saying something.

Considering the bullying thing, I have a story that doesn't directly relate to me, but still underscores the family dynamic.

When DS was only 4, the year after the New York incident, we decided to spend Christmas with Dad, Stepmom and whatever other siblings were going to be there. So as to NOT be an imposition on Dad's already crowded house, we got a hotel room. OK, it's also because hubby and I are the only smokers in our generation - to be polite and to have privacy, we made that choice. Anyway, we got up early, went to Dad's, stayed long hours and left in time to get little one to bed most of the four days we were there. Hubby ended up getting very sick on that trip. He also has cPTSD and family Christmas is foreign to him. We almost left before the day, it got that bad for him. But, we stuck it out.

Stepbrother refused to come over, even for birthday dinner for Dad. Say what they want, my presence was the reason. Oldest sister didn't come either. She always stops by for at least a few hours, but not that year. Flying monkey sister came for one day. GC brother came, with his sons. I've seen the boys so rarely, despite living in the same town as their Nana. The last time I spoke to them on the phone was when they still lived only one state away. I used to drive up to visit the family often - when I was welcome (read - an 'employee' of my brother's AMWAY business). They were babies when that dried up.

Anyway, my son was completely enamored of his cousins. He followed them around, wanting to be a part of whatever they were doing. Because he didn't know them, and they do look very similar being brothers, he tried to remember their names and got them confused a few times. He had just met them for the first time. Well, the older son was pretty decent about it. He'd smile at my DS and say, 'Close enough, cuz.' The other, though, would taunt my son. He would intentionally deny his own name and send my son on a hunt for his brother with the misinformation about names. My son fell for it twice that I saw it. The second time, everyone but my older nephew was in the living room. Finally, I had the nerve to say something. 'Nephew, that was really cruel. He loves you already and trusts you. Don't you think that's a punky thing to do to him?'

He was shocked, his mother looked like I'd just slapped her (prissy, self-righteous 'perfect mother'), my brother looked ashamed because he'd been smiling at his son's antics. The boy had the decency to look ashamed of himself and did apologize to my son for playing tricks on him. I spent the rest of the day explaining to my son that his cousin had been lying to him as a trick. To this day, because he sees them so rarely, he gets confused about which is which.

I was slightly grateful that hubby was in the hotel room and hadn't seen that, only because his being unwell gave me an excuse to get out of there. Before I could return for dinner, brother and his family had left.

Because my brother requested it, we stopped by his house on the way home from Dad's. When we got there, the nephews were much nicer to my son, but it was still hard for me to let him go hang out with them. The age difference wasn't a big deal to my son - his brother is 15 years older. It was a big deal to my nephews who figured out that I will call them on it if they were unkind again.

Bro had already apologized at Dad's house - to my husband. So, we were glad to visit and try to ease the tension between me and bro. Well, then self-righteous had to start up again - questioning me on why I don't follow the family faith anymore.  I had to explain, again, that I still believe in God, just not the flavor they subscribed to. They acted like I was spouting heresy. They bragged how their (my adjectives pushy, stubborn) daughter had (bullied?) convinced HER fiancé (father of the baby on the way) to convert. I had to laugh. They'd already told me how they thought that young man was a dunce and easily swayed by their daughter. *** Shock from the future - he divorced their daughter because it never was a marriage in the first place ***

So, hubby and I made our excuses about the long trip home, gathered up our son and left. On the way home, hubby talked about being respectful of my bro because he did man up and apologize for his behavior in New York. But, even he realized that they were being VERY judgmental of me and my life because it didn't follow the path THEY had chosen for THEMSELVES.

The bitterness in me wants to shout here what I've never been able to say out loud.

Brother, I don't have to follow the family faith to still believe in the same God and Savior. I am not going to * because I refuse to subscribe to such non-Biblical beliefs as Mary being the product of a virgin birth herself, or of her ascending into Heaven, or of Jesus having no brothers and sisters while she was sinless (um, didn't she marry Joseph, wouldn't a good wife provide children for her husband?). And, no, I can't pretend I don't know that's part of the package and just say the vows. That's akin to taking vows of marriage but never intending to remain faithful to the spouse. Don't say it if you can't mean it, especially with a VOW before GOD, right? So, I never said it, doesn't mean I don't believe what I read for myself in the Bible. And, it certainly doesn't give you or your wife a right to stand on some pedestal and preach down to me. Who are you to sit in judgment on me anyway? We both had daughters get pregnant out of wedlock. We supported our daughter, loved her, told her she didn't have to make any rash choices, think it through. When they decided to get married anyway, we supported the idea and the new little family. You, on the other hand, told her to NOT marry the boy, then that he HAD to be Catholic (yeah, that didn't work so well, did it?), then undermined the young family every chance you got by interfering and trying to get their son away from them and raise him yourself. I guess because you'd done such a great job with your own children?

You and your wife used me during your AMWAY days, belittled me when I didn't 'grow' at the rate you wanted and then called me loser when I'd had enough and quit. You taught your children to call me loser. You never apologized for that. You never corrected your children by admitting that calling me a loser was wrong and that you were wrong to teach them to think of me like that. And you wonder why I don't want to call or visit? YOU made a conscious decision to take the improper teachings of a rogue group of AMWAY distributors who were later prosecuted for their methods and make their words more important than your relationship with your sister. Really? Really? There aren't enough REALLY?'s in the world for how very wrong that is. And you've never apologized for any of it. Because you don't see that you owe me an apology!

You act so superior to me. You do. Stop trying to deny it. You don't understand how I could 'settle' for a little brick ranch in the burbs. You had to have your country club house with the mayor across the street. When it flooded, your wife was so angry. When I stated that I was thankful for the prayers, because they sustained me through the hurricane and I had no damage, she was spitting verbal rocks at me she was so pissed. When I stated that a week without electricity had been hard, but had it's good points, too - she nearly called me a * because she was so angry that I wasn't - I don't even know - even more sympathetic about her losses to the flood? Y'all knew that back yard flooded. Y'all didn't get the extra insurance. Y'all suffered flood losses. Yes, I'm sorry that it happened to you. Yes, I'm sorry your insurance company let you down. Yes, it stinks! And YOU seemed to keep a good sense of humor about the whole thing. But, you were not the only ones affected and just because you lost more value on your country club floodwater estate than my home is worth is no reason for your wife to treat me like I should just shut up because y'all had it worse. She needs to check herself, bro. Nobody MADE you buy that expensive home in the fancy backfill neighborhood.

More later, got to do my job for a while. Not easy when triggered like this.

[Three Roses]

 

Here with you. 

[Wife#2]

Oh, yeah. There was that time ....

I actually won something at a fair! I was so excited, I was 11 years old and I had never won anything before. It was a life-sized 'rag' doll. I had barely had time to bring it back to the table when my father leaned over and said, "I think your sister would love that. Why don't you let her have it?"

Of course, I wasn't going to tell my father no. Of course, I wasn't going to insist that it was the first thing I'd EVER won and I like it and I want to keep it for myself! No, that doll stayed in my possession no more than 2 hours. As soon as we got home, Dad put it up and, I assume, brought it to my Autistic sister on his next visit. I didn't even get to actually GIVE it to her. It came from Dad as far as she knew. I never saw it again. I don't even know if she did like it or kept it or the facility took it from her.

All I know is that my father didn't seem excited for me, seeing me win something. He was excited that I was willing to give it up for my sister.

And he wonders why I believe that he loved her more than he ever loved me. Because this is just one of a thousand little ways he showed me that he did.

[Wife#2]

Called Dad to wish him Happy Birthday. He tried to actually listen, but there was so much noise of the party for him in the background (I hadn't known they were doing a party for him, not invited or informed, or I would have called at a different time) he could barely hear me. Both oldest sisters were there as was GC brother and most of his kids. Stepbrother was there.

Like I said, Dad did seem to try. But, I stayed on a very short time, allowing my son to talk to his beloved Grandpa. When they were done, Dad realized he hadn't called my husband on HIS birthday, so they spoke. By the time the phone got back to me, I could tell that Dad was being called back into the party being held on his behalf.

After I hung up, I felt like crying. THAT is the family. Mom was cast out in the divorce. We kids keep trying to help her (I'm out of THAT business, though) out of pity more than anything. There is love, but we know it's pretty one-sided. I was cast to the side when I was not yet out of high school - that's what happens when you're left with the cast-away ex-wife. Once I was an adult, I made efforts. Unless I was useful (GC Bro's Amway partner) or doing most-to-all the work (Oldest sis who couldn't leave her state for visits, Dad & stepmom who often travelled, but usually I had to travel and meet them half-way or some such), I was simply not good enough to include.

I knew nothing of the party. I would have changed my plans, heck, I might have renewed my Skype account so we could all see each other. They haven't seen my son in a long time. I might have even called when DSS could also talk to Dad. But, as usual, year after year, I'm not told of the plans. Year after year, I stumble into things and feel stupid for not knowing. And angry that nobody felt I was worth telling. Forget inviting, that doesn't happen anymore. My last invite was a Facebook invite to Thanksgiving dinner at my GC brother's house. Every family member in that area would attend, so I knew right then and there that I would be made to feel like even more of an outsider if I went. And that I would likely be tasked with making sure our mother got there. Oh wait, no, they'd have made me feel guilty for leaving Mom in this town alone because they really wanted Dad there, not Mom.

The consequences of being left with Mom just keep piling up. I'm too much like her after YEARS of it being just me and her in one apartment. They don't like the parts (fleas) that are similar, so it's so much easier to just lump me in with Mom and avoid me. I'm easier to avoid, too. There is a 'That's just Mom' mentality, but no similar, 'That's just sister' for them to feel guilty ignoring me. I don't want them to feel guilty, though. That's not it. But, * I really wish I mattered just a little more once in a while. And they don't get that I BEGGED Dad to let me move with him. I ALREADY KNEW, at age 12, that Mom wasn't as good a parent as she claimed. I BEGGED Dad again, after he moved away and Mom moved and her true colors started showing.

I was sad that he could throw me under the 'don't hurt the ex-wife' bus so easily. And he wonders why I'm angry! Because he did that during the only teen years I'd get! He did that just as I needed a Dad around. MY Dad was busy being there for my step-siblings. I had no Dad to be there for me.

Maybe it was from Dad that my GC brother learned to throw me under the bus in elementary school. The split happened before I could even join him in high school. HE got to stay with Dad. I got shipped off with Mom. The few times we did even see each other (GC bro made sure he wasn't home on my weekend visits with Dad, except maybe twice in two years), bro acted like I was some stinkbug to be avoided.

I'm going to use caps and this will be a little bit TMI, but I need to shout this as loud as I can:

I CAN'T HELP THAT I DIDN'T LEARN BETTER HYGIENE FROM A MOTHER WHO DIDN'T HAVE MUCH HERSELF AND COULDN'T BE BOTHERED TO TEND TO ME WHEN SHE WAS TOO BUSY BEING BITTER ABOUT THE DIVORCE AND JEALOUS OF ME HAVING A UTERUS. THESE WERE NOT MY FAULT. I DID THE BEST I COULD READING MAGAZINES AND WATCHING TEENY-BOPPER SHOWS FOR HINTS! If I smelled bad, if I had bad habits, if I embarrassed you, how about be a sibling or DAD and talk to me about it! Instead of just distancing yourselves and wondering what was wrong with me!?!?

_(*&)*(^&_&*_ It just isn't fair that I've spent a lifetime paying for something I didn't even do wrong. I'm still being judged and thrown under the bus and left in the road after I was run over. Then, they have the gall to ask me things like - Why don't I call them? or Why do I seem to have a chip on my shoulder? _(&*^*&^(%^*^_(

[mourningdove]

 

[Three Roses]

...and one more

[sanmagic7]

and another   

and here's some )&%*((&^$#))&(&$  that i'd like to share with you as well.  there's all kinds of stink - some of the 'cleanest' people i know stink so bad i can't stand to be around them anymore.

sending you a bouquet of narcissus to help brighten your day.  flowers may not be able to fix anything, but i think that sometimes they're nice band-aids. 

[Wife#2]

San,

Thank you for the flowers! They are beautiful. And only the second bunch of flowers that weren't bought by myself for myself. So, even more, thank you!

The new year rang in rather quietly. I haven't spoken to anyone in the family yet. None have bothered. If they're waiting for me to make the next call, well, who knows how long they'll have to wait.

I am getting DS to do his thank you cards to those who sent gifts (Dad sent a little something for everyone and flying monkey sis sent for DS and my darling SGD). He wants me to write them for him - not happening. He's 8, he can speak and write for himself now.

My GC brother is one of those that you'd probably love to be around. See, he and his wife are only like that when they're around ME. It's specific to me. They have quite a few really close friends, even more 'outer circle' friends and have become acquainted with nearly everyone in town (doesn't hurt to live across the street from said town's mayor). To anyone who wasn't his littlest sister, he's a wonderful, thoughtful, caring man, loving husband and father, active in his community, well respected by all who know him.

**** I'm going into something that occurred to me as I re-read some earlier posts. Actually, it occurred to me in the shower this morning. Anyway... I'm beginning to think that both of my parents chose to NOT bond deeply with me because I was the only child younger than my Autistic sister. The pain of trying to bond with her - and have 5 other children in the home - was too great. With me, they protected their hearts from the potential pain. That's why it was ok with Mom to send me to my Godparent's house when she had to stay in the hospital. That's why it was easy for my father to let ME go to them.

I'm going to type this once. Then, I'm going to try to let it go. Try. ** Trigger warnings, I'm sure **

Maybe, they thought that by rejecting me early, one of two things would happen. 1) They wouldn't open their hearts to loving me and thus the pain if I was also Autistic. 2) Maybe the lack of attachment would cause me to die, solving their problems.

I know they would never have been actively thinking either of these things. They're not cruel people. But, my position in the family plays such an important part in my experience of my FOO, that I can't help but think it or believe that they had some unnamed hope or wish regarding me. Then, I didn't die. I thrived. They brought me back home. I still thrived, though not as well, I believe. Though I didn't belong to my Godparents, they opened their hearts to me right away. My Godmother still shows me affection and love, even from four states away. This is what my infant self needed, and what I got. I can only wonder at the shock to me it must have been after weeks with them to be torn away and brought home to a family where Mom was distant, Dad was distant and too busy, GC bro didn't want me around and Autistic sis didn't like the competition for parental attention.

When you look at the base roots of all these things, it's easy to believe that, in their hearts, they'd have rather my Godparents decided to keep me (Godmother joked that she did want to keep me because I was that rare baby who slept through the night straight home from the hospital). I learned that about my Godmother from my own mother. I guess she told me to prove to me that she did love me - enough to tell my Godmother no. Maybe.

I do think my parents love me. I just think they held me back a little, fearing that I, too, would be damaged or defective (they would never use those words about me or Autistic sis now). I think they WERE tired, overwhelmed and confused. I don't think any of it was intentional, but I do believe that both parents secretly felt that their lives would have been less challenging had I never been born. Or, had I died in the hospital. Or, had I died at my Godparent's house. But, I didn't. So, they coped the best they could. Never aware that their failure to really attach with me would cost me so much later in life.

That's why it's all so confused. They do love me. They'll never admit it's not the same as their love for their other children. That there has always been a grain of 'protect-my-heart' to their love. But, it's there. It's shown up my whole life. But, it's also why it's been so hard to explain to anyone. ESPECIALLY if they knew anyone in my family.

I think Mom's issues began with the miscarriage between the oldest and second child. Mom was already damaged emotionally by HER parents. Then, she failed by getting pregnant before graduating high school and while unwed. THEN, she failed even at making babies! Her downward spiral began then, I think. Dad's was more gradual. He did become proficient at blaming Mom instead of working with her and trying to be a husband to her. He was man of the house far more than husband. His expectations may have been too high and Mom too depressed over not being perfect (thinking her little sister WAS - and hating her for it) to bother trying to reach that high any more.

But, the other children had better times with Mom and Dad. Especially Dad. It's why they're all close to him now. I tried to be and got rejected so many times, I stopped trying. So, how do you explain that the hero of the story, the long-suffering Dad wasn't perfect and wasn't there for me and wasn't a good guy in my life? How do you convince anyone anywhere that not everything was Mom's fault? That Dad has some ownership in HIS choices towards me that were hurtful and damaging? Here is the only place I feel safe! Because anyone, including my husband, who has met the man likes him! He really is that great of a guy to anyone / everyone else.

Oh, to give you an idea of the relationship dynamics - We got Dad's gift to the 'family' and put it under the tree. There was also an envelope which Dad had written to DS stating, 'Don't open until Christmas'. Then, there is the calendar - that I always say is for my husband, because he asks every year for it AND because he keeps it by his desk, though it was supposed to be for both of us. So, we let DS open his - a card with a gift card for B&N in it. Ok, that's nice. The box to all of us is a wheel of black-wax cheddar cheese. Sure, that's good, but I'm not that into cheese. Not in block form. Hubby loved it, so that's his. The calendar (we can tell by the wrapping what it is) is hubby's so, he's even happier! How do I explain to my husband that Dad was imposing HIS wants/wishes because he has no freaking idea WHO I am, nor has he ever made real efforts to GET to know me (though he'd tell you otherwise)? My hubby was too busy being thrilled at the gifts my creative, kind Dad sent to us.

So, I'll write the thank you card. I'll mean it when I tell him his gifts were appreciated. And I'll look forward to more similar gifts in the future since he now believes these to be just what we want. Because he is happy with surface responses as long as they look deeper than, 'I'm fine, Dad' to him.

I think I need to have a funeral for parents who couldn't fully love me for THEIR reasons, not for my failings. I need to have a funeral because they are still living and I want to find a way to relate to them, for my reasons. I do want my son to know his grandparents. I'll deal with others later. But, for now, I'm going to borrow those beautiful flowers San cyber-gave me and I'll use them as my focus for this funeral. I'll have to finish at home when I can allow my emotions their full reign.

I'm glad you're back, San. I want to hear about your trip. Thank you for the flowers, friend!

[Three Roses]

I'm so sorry you felt so alone in your childhood. You deserved to be treated better, to be wholeheartedly accepted and loved without reservation. You're an amazing woman, and I'm glad to know you.

[Wife#2]

Saw this in another post, so I went and took the online test (at the CDC website) to discover my 'ACE' or Adverse Childhood Experiences score. I'm sad, but not surprised.  *** TRIGGERS for abuse/neglect/violence ***

One thing that did make me laugh a little was that they combined really traumatic issues into a single question. One that I could answer yes to each part separately, but it was only one question, so....

When I look at what I know now that I've recovered some of my childhood memories and the health concerns I have now, it all does make perfect sense. Of COURSE, I would have health issues after surviving so many 'adverse events'.

OK, I'm not going to get the wording right, so please know these contain my own wording.

One question asked if there was any mental illness and/or had anyone attempted suicide. So, yes (Mom) and yes (Dad). Maybe Mom on the second half, too. I don't really know.

One question asked if a parent had been incarcerated. That one stumped me a bit. Nobody went to jail, but Mom was voluntarily admitted to a mental health facility at least once when I was a child. AND, she ran away at least one summer - from her husband and all us children. So, I was abandoned as IF she had been in jail for short stints, but she was never actually incarcerated. So, I said no to that question.

Another thing that the questionnaire didn't address, but which I know played a BIG part in my childhood and the feeling of being neglected was: repeated and prolonged absences for parental employment - leaving a child home alone (ok, I was 15 - 17, but still a child) during the work travel. On one of her trips, Mom talks about her travails being stuck in Chicago for a week during a major blizzard. Yeah, Mom, while you were there, with work friends and in a nice comfy hotel, I was home alone. Scared. Not sure when you'd be able to come home. Not sure what to do if I ran out of groceries. At that point, GC bro was in the Army and no other relatives even lived in the same state!

Another question alluded to living in poverty or a crime-ridden area. Ok, this one is a little complicated. Because in that one city, right after the divorce, Mom and I were renting a house. I believe to this day that it was haunted. There wasn't much crime on our block, it really was a safe place for most residents. But, in the one year we lived there:
1) The drunk tried to come in the screen door thinking he was at his home.
2) I came home to a broken door window and obvious signs of theft. Neighbor let me use her phone, police didn't believe me - I was obviously a child and they considered it a crank call. Only THEN did Mom come home and place the call herself. Her good silver was stolen.
3) I came home to a broken back storm door and jimmied back door. Mom came home right away this time, now knowing police won't believe me.
4) I came home to nothing obvious, but a sense that the house had been occupied while I was at school. Later found out Mom's cheap jewelry (all she had left after other thefts) had been taken.
5) Peeping tom started about a month after we moved in, always about 15 minutes after we turned out lights to go to bed. I could hear him. Mom wanted me to ignore it so she wouldn't have to deal with it. After two months of this, he tried to break in, disabling the front porch light and cutting the screen of the window on the room next to mine. I confronted him and he ran away. Required Mom to call police. She only apologized for not previously believing me when the police were there and had to calm me down to take my statement.
6) Things went missing from garage at times OTHER than the break-in's reported above.
7) I am certain the house is haunted, but that the spirit is a young girl like myself and that she is friendly.
After experiencing what I believe to be a ghost, become TERRIFIED of the basement. I will not go down there no matter the consequences. I will hang out in the attic, however.
9) Mom had at least two separate confrontations with someone trying to break in - and stopping when they discovered she was home. One ran away on sight. The other asked her to not call the police and ran away when she picked up the phone.

It wasn't a neighborhood of poverty or violence, so I said, no! But, that was a whole lot of traumatic experience going on in that house. I was never as thankful to her as the day she told me we were leaving - and that the new apartment had the bedrooms UPSTAIRS. That I took as her greatest kindness to me. But, I have to consider, she didn't make that decision until SHE experienced a stranger at her window. Regardless, I was happy to not feel panicked 15 minutes after turning out my light each night.

That was also the year I found out that my Dad was accepting a job in a state two states North of where we then lived (Mom had moved to the city mentioned above, Dad was still in the town where the divorce took place). So, I'd been abandoned by separation. I'd been further abandoned when my mother dragged me to said city (first time I begged Dad to take custody of me). Then, the abandonment was complete, Dad was moving so far away, my alternate weekend visitations would stop. AND, he was marrying his girlfriend. AND, they were moving to the new state with her two children and becoming one new happy family (second time I begged Dad to take custody of me).

So, had my parents been in jail? Never. Was I abandoned as if they'd been in prison, Mom - kind of, more like weekend jail, Dad - yes. Still, it wasn't actual prison, so I answered no to that question.

Also, relevant to the study that was conducted, I have had three close calls with pre-cancer, thyroid disease diagnosed at age 32, obesity, depression.

If I answered for my mother, she would have just about the same score. And she's survived much longer than she expected. Especially having had a heart attack and throat cancer and depression and (I say undiagnosed BPD/Narc) at least two complete emotional breakdowns. 

So, yes, I do believe there is a link between childhood traumas and adult health. To me, that really is a 'duh' statement. How can one be physically healthy in the face of such dysfunction. Why do overweight parents typically have overweight children? The parents aren't equipped to teach the children about healthy exercise or eating habits. So, they teach what they know. And, surprise, surprise, surprise - the children tend to be overweight as children and as adults. Why do children of smokers or drinkers tend to follow suit? It's all they learned to cope, so they go to what they know - what their parents did!

Wow, this turned into a mammoth post. It seems I had a lot to say on this subject!

Final analysis, this is like doing a study to discover how a woman gets that baby inside her. I guess, in the name of science, they have to do studies to prove what is common sense and proven all around the world. But, if it hasn't published in the JAMA or other scientifically approved journal, it doesn't exist. So, they do the study. Then, they don't even have the logic to ask people who have BEEN THROUH this stuff to help them identify the best format of questions. To me, the set of questions they're using is no more powerful than going around asking all the sick people if they had traumatic stuff happen in their childhood - on a scale of 1 to 10, how bad, then making that a data pool. I'd have scored lower on that, though - undervaluing the impact of neglect and devaluation.



Another that I answered yes to, well, I was on the fence about yes or no. See, Mom is an adult child of an alcoholic. Her coping style has been to be a dry-drunk. She may not have consumed much alcohol, but she acts similar to how a drunk acts in many situations. Dad did drink. Towards the end of the marriage, he drank a LOT. Besides that time in his life, he had a beer or two here or there, not much. A 6-pack could last him a week no challenge most of the time, up to the present day. But, during those two-three years leading up to the divorce and the first year after the divorce, he drank heavily.

Another question that I didn't like the phrasing was the physical abuse and bullying question only addressed these activities by adults 'or someone more than 5 years older than the answerer'. Well, my brother was only two years older than me, but he made up for that. Also, with his status as GC, I was as helpless defending myself against him as I would have been a sibling 5 or more years older. But, because of the wording of the question, I had to answer no to remain truthful.

One point that they do make is that it is helpful to have SOMEONE in your life to counteract this abuse and neglect. I did have one as a small child, two as an older child. Heart-Mom sister was there for me as much as she could be. She was also there for others, so it wasn't like we were the only two and she always had my back. She also had to look out for herself! Ditto Heart-Dad brother. At 8 years older, he had different issues going on (BTW, HE was bullied by the two sisters older than him - to the point of forcing him to take punishments for things THEY had done - and they weren't 5 or more years older). But, he was there for me when he could be, and that did help make my childhood better.

I do think that the test has value, but it really is unfair to lump so much into each question. I think the parameters are created by people who haven't lived in messed up homes like we have. I could be wrong, but it does seem to me that They're putting mountain apples and tropical bananas in the same basket and implying that both would have the same impact so yes to either is the same as yes to both. I say that they are different and valuable on their own and twice as impactful if BOTH are going on. To me, it's like saying 'Did you have knives thrown at you and/or did you get thrown down the stairs?' Well, ok, if someone had knives thrown at them, they'll answer yes. If someone got thrown down stairs, they'll answer yes. But, how much more violent was the life of the child who had both knives thrown at them AND were thrown down stairs? Not being able to say yes to each part limits the emphasis of the situation!

I know, I know, this is an overall view test, not a specific situations test. But, it's that kind of thinking - the we can lump this together, right? thinking - that glosses over so much of what we experienced as children. No, I didn't have someone calling me names, slapping me, punching me, yelling at me or telling me I was worthless. (That is all in one question). But, I did have parents who neglected me badly enough to ensure that I told MYSELF that I was worthless. They didn't have to! Their neglect said it for them!

[Wife#2]

I never really spent time looking into several aspects of the therapy I've done over my life. In my mid-twenties I was seeing a particularly good psychiatrist. That was the one who brought my mother in for a session. He also suggested group therapy. The idea scared me. Because, I now think, that I was afraid of being minimalized, silenced.

I've never really considered what I went through to be abuse, so I didn't see myself as an abused person. I was just forgotten, overlooked. I fell through the cracks because others' issues in our family were so much more pressing. It wasn't that bad. Right? I was just a very lonely child in a very crowded house. I should just stop my whining.

In a group setting, I was just sure that I would have nothing to contribute. Certainly not in the face of people who had suffered REAL abuse. I couldn't add anything, so what would be the point? I refused. I'd rather keep paying for my one-on-one sessions.

Fast-forward to my mid-thirties. This time, I've checked myself into a facility - with the aid of the hospital. There, group session isn't an option - you will go once a day. Period. That was probably a good thing. But, I did fulfill my own theory. My situation wasn't all that bad. Really, not worth all this effort. But, it's mandatory. So, I wept with the stories of those going through WAY worse stuff. I nodded in understanding while they told their stories (not even self-reflecting enough to wonder why I nodded or understood). I hugged those who wanted/needed friendly hugs. I affirmed each person for being brave enough to finally tell his/her story. But, I remained silent about MY reason for being there.

When I finally told my story to that group, I still stared at the floor, glossing over as many details as I could while still being truthful. By the end of my very short story, I was crying. And feeling stupid for crying because - it wasn't really that bad, yet it landed me in there! Until the lady next to me put her hand on my back and handed me a tissue. She didn't think it was nothing! She didn't think I was just whining. None of them thought I was just whining. Even the lady who's husband cheated with his secretary was sympathetic of me and my story. She was the one I was sure was going to hate me when I finally spoke.

It was the first time in my entire life (and I was mid-thirties by then) that anyone, and I mean ANYONE had listened to something I'd had to say and hadn't blown me off by minimizing what I was feeling and telling me to quit my whining and get over it. Even my sister would sometimes roll her eyes and sigh or tell me that she didn't remember it that way and maybe I was exaggerating a bit.

I'm just realizing that, as good and close as my sister and I were - and we were close - she still didn't understand the impact on me of being the only child younger than Autistic Sis. I was the only one who didn't have time with the parents as a baby without one having a greater need of the parents vying for their attention. Even she felt that I was being a drama queen or exaggerating or whining over nothing with a lot of what I was feeling. She didn't mean to minimize my experience. She did it less than the others so I didn't notice as much. I had to have SOMEONE who was 'on my side'.

Heart-mom sis did look out for me as best as she could. But, there was still something fundamental missing. She was damaged in her own ways by our family of origin. Heart-dad bro was, too. They had their own things going on. All of us did. But, nobody could see that the pecking order did have an unusual impact on me. None could see that the critical 'bonding' time I deserved as an infant was available to me. I was brought home to a chaotic situation and expected to be just fine is a situation where many critical needs weren't getting met.

Dissociating now, if this gets choppy, sorry, I'm kind of free-style typing now.

I remember the look on my Dad's face when I asked what prompted them to finally go against every fiber of his being and put Autistic Sis into a facility. That was the first time he told me about her being sent 'away' when I was only 1 year old. I thought her first center was when I was 5. They put her in a facility because I was completely failing to thrive. I wasn't hitting any of my growth markers. The look on his face as he told me this was pain/storm/anger/frustration. That told me he was reliving the emotions as he talked to me about it. I didn't press, but I still had a ton of questions!

When I look back on that, it would explain one part of why he may have resented me. She wouldn't have had to go if I hadn't been born. She was only put there because it was the only way they COULD give me the attention I needed and deserved. If I hadn't failed to thrive so much that my pediatrician noticed, Dad would never have allowed her to be sent away. He felt like he had failed my sister. Not that he had failed me - he had failed HER. His family was split apart, not by her, they had managed well enough until I came along. It was MY fault. I couldn't pick up the skills I needed to crawl or walk or babble from the older siblings. I instead mimicked the sister closest to me in age. And THAT was a problem. So, he had to go against his word to never split up his family or send his 'disabled' daughter away.

He got her back in the home as quickly as he could. We moved from that city to the other city. There were support facilities there, so he could keep her in the home with us. But, she either resented me on her own or sensed that Mom and Dad resented me, so she treated me like someone worthy of resentment. She hit me - I couldn't hit back because she 'didn't understand'. Yeah, right. She understood. Developmentally, she got stuck at about age 3. Thing about 3-year-olds you know. They know when they're doing something 'wrong'. She would scratch me and when the parents were watching, she'd reach over and pretend to hug me. What she'd be doing is squeezing me really hard. It hurt. But, if I tried to get away, I was told my sister was just trying to love me and I should love her back. Then, if I squeezed her back, they'd pull me away and correct me - don't hurt your sister!

That would have been hard enough, but GC bro was getting in on the teasing and bullying - and Mom and Dad were oblivious. He was only two years older, but when I was only 4 that means he was already 6. And, yes a 6-year-old boy can be pretty creative on how to hurt his sister while supposedly just playing. There were plenty of sucker slaps (not punches), tripping, shoving while supposedly playing tag. Everything in his behavior towards me indicated that he didn't want anything to do with me. The harder he pushed me away, the more I chased him, not understanding why?

I'm getting a lot of really early childhood memories back. I can see the den in that city. It was always a mess, but 9 people in a home will do that. It was our normal anyway. So, GC bro and I are sitting on the sofa. We're sitting with our backs against opposite arms and kicking each other for the most room at the center. The poodle dog is running around (probably needs to go outside, but we don't know or care). Autistic sis comes in, sits in front of the tv, changes the channel and turns the sound up really loud - on a static channel. She's smiling and rocking back and forth tapping her head on the tv. GC bro and I know there's nothing to be done about this. He kicks me hard one last time, gets up and goes outside. I sit next to Autistic sis. I try to rock with her, wanting to understand. She scowls at me, elbows me away and turns back to the too-loud tv, smiling again.

Even I get that hint. GO AWAY! NOT WANTED!

Sitting at the dinner table, she is in a high chair. I am in a regular seat. I do know she's older than me, but it doesn't often feel that way. She's next to Mom, I'm on sis's other side. She is big enough that she can lean over the high chair tray and reach my plate. She open-hand grabs some of my food (I don't remember right now what it was, but it was something I wanted to eat myself. The open hand assures that my food scatters and what she doesn't grab isn't really edible, so I think it's mashed potatoes or macaroni & cheese. She's smiling. I turn to her angry and say, Hey, STOP! Mom scowls at me - apologize, she didn't know that's wrong. This happens at several meals, but they still don't separate me and sis for months. Finally, I'm allowed to sit on the other side of the dinner table. Sis does the same thing to GC. Mom pops her hand and says, 'NO!'  I'm left to feel that Sis is being told she can be mean to me, but not to bro. His GC status is increased. My 'problem child' status is also increased in my head.

I resent my sister more and more. Instead of loving her like the rest of the family, I want her to go away. I want her to not be in our family anymore. Then, I feel guilty because I know that's a wrong way to feel. I hate going to church because I want to yell at God and that's just not done. I want parents who don't look worn down and depressed. I want siblings who don't hurt me. My sister scares me more than anyone else in the world. My GC brother is a close second. If I tell my parents what GC bro does, I'm either a tattle-tale or a brat who is whining. WHAT I'm telling doesn't matter as much as that. I'm told very often, go work it out with him. Yeah, well, you see, that's not going to happen because the same look I have in my eye around sister, well, he has the same look when looking at me.

GC bro has figured out how to play the game with our parents. I haven't. I feel stupid, like everyone got the 'how to be children in our home' manual except me.

I still have a huge black hole in my memory surrounding the Spanish boys. I don't think I want to peer into that hole without a therapist. though, so I'll leave that alone.

Well, I think I've dissociated enough. It's time to get to work. Bringing myself back to now. Mostly :-) Enough anyway.

[Wife#2]

Just in case you were wondering, I'm likely to loose my job soon. The dissociation won't quit! I'm feeling 5 years old, then 14, then I'm in the present thinking, 'good, I need to be here' only to slip back to 8 years old. I'm all over the place and trying to finish sentences, do my job, keep from bursting out crying. I may just have to close the doors to my office and have a good cry. Maybe after that, I can focus on the job.

Clenching my teeth so hard I can't believe how bad my jaw hurts, but it's the only way I can hold myself present long enough to get this typed and think about getting back to work. Those numbers seem so unimportant right now.

Triggered by a stupid little thing that happened last night. It was a small thing, but I think all this EF and dissociation is because of that small thing. Then, there's the thing happening here at work. I'm being excluded because it's just easier that way - less complicated. Real feelings coming out - only included me because they had to. Boss isn't here today to include me, so I'm ignored. Typical. My life. Triggered, ready to cry. They seem to forget that I have feelings, too. * them. * them all to *. (asterisks mine, figured better than actually writing what I WANT to write and having it edited). They don't understand at all how bad that really hurts. Because I'm back to being the FREAK that nobody wants to be around.

And al my husband did was tell me he hadn't talked to his daughter since Christmas, then during a call last night prove that he HAD and that I didn't know what was going on at all - I was not included - not worthy of telling about it even. It was a small thing, unimportant really - but one more case of - she doesn't matter, why bother keeping her in the loop, including her in anything.

And I'm clenching my jaws hard to keep from crying. And I'm listening to my ears ring as always, only louder right now, thumping with my heart beat. Louder, quieter, louder, quieter - but ALWAYS there

[Three Roses]

 

What you describe happening would have triggered me, too. I don't think it's that small.

[sanmagic7]

hugs for now, and a rosebud to set on your desk for today.   more later.  you sweet dear lovely woman.  prayers flying.

[sanmagic7]

wife2, once more i have to disagree with you.  i just don't believe there are any small abuses, small traumas.  in my emdr training, (a long time ago.  i think things have changed by now.  at least i hope so) we were taught to distinguish between small t and large T traumas, and that never set right with me.  what may be a small t trauma to one person can certainly be a large T trauma to someone else.  it depends on the person, the personality, the sensitivity, the number of times it's happened, and on and on.   again, not taking the individual into consideration.  black swans.

like i've said, i didn't have all those horrible things happen to me with language, physical/sexual abuse, abductions and so on.  does that make what traumatized me any less of a trauma?  we can't compare.  we just can't.  that's like comparing my body to that of a supermodel.  what good does that do me?  what benefit is that to my life?  she's a mutant with that so-called 'perfect' face and figure.  i'm just me.  but does that make my existence any less important than hers?  geez, i don't think so.

and so it is with this trauma stuff.  if it traumatized you, it's real, it's genuine, it counts.  you are suffering from it just like any one of us suffering from our own forms of trauma.  who can put a qualitative derivative on one form of trauma as compared to another form.  i don't think that's fair, i don't think it's right, and i don't think it's a truth.  like that diagnostic tool you looked at - there are so many variables to trauma that aren't captured there, it seems kind of useless as a measurement of anything except maybe the very obvious that is recognized as being within the bell curve. 

you didn't deserve to be treated any less than any other of your siblings.  what happened to you is on them, not you.  and, i don't think anyone needs to be excused for abusing someone else because they were abused in some way.  even tho retaliation is often a symptom of traumatization (van der kolk's book), my acts of meanness and abuse toward others still aren't acceptable.  i can forgive myself for them, but i'm still accountable.  i can't get away with saying 'it's not my fault - i was traumatized'.  it's not an excuse.  but, i can understand it in myself, apologize if/when possible, and move on from it.  like  when i'm cranky w/ my hub.  i've already apologized to everyone else i know when it was appropriate. 

my elder daughter has had mental health issues from the get-go.  does that excuse her abuse of me?  not by a long shot.  she has been able to pick and choose with whom she is kind and generous, so she knows the difference between right and wrong.  so did your family members.  i'm just sorry you had to go through any of it.  this stuff is so unfair!   i can see tho, that you are making your way through the minefield, looking at every blade of grass for cues and clues.  warrior woman strength and determination at the fore.  you're doing great.