The new journal for me - stage 2

[Wife#2]

This is what I get for reading so many other posts! With all love and respect, it's good for me, but it's also very triggering. Having said that - *** TRIGGER ALERT ***

Reading another's post put me into a bit of a quandary. What do my parents think of me? They must be confused since my relationship with them isn't like my relationship with their other children. Even their grandchildren have better relationships. What do I see? Them not trying overly hard. The occasional email from Dad asking, 'How are you? love Dad.' That's pretty much it. Or the phone calls from Mom in crisis, needing me to drop everything to be there for her. Then, crickets. Until her next 'crisis'.

If actions speak louder than words, what are their actions telling me?

1) I'm not really family. They stay very close to family. Calling, emailing, visiting in person.
2) Efforts ARE made. Dad's are visible (those nothing emails). Mom's crisis calls. Birthday/holiday gifts from Dad.
3) Mom only needs me when all other relatives are unavailable.
4) Visiting me is too much work. Helping me visit them is out of the question. But, if I'm willing to do all the work, then ok. They'll put up with me.
5) Siblings have been NC for a very long time. Last to go NC was not oldest sis. I guess I'm not enmeshed enough to suit her anymore.

I've been excluded so long, it's a habit. My brother doesn't even know my phone number. My sisters know it, but the oldest has never dialed it. Not oldest used to call, but stopped as I said earlier.

Anyway, it's enough to convince me that they all think I'm crazy. I'm not. I had a different experience of our parents than they did. Not one of them was actually rejected by Dad for a place to live. Not one of them had to live with Mom for 5 years - JUST Mom. Not one of them, so they DON'T know what my life is like or why I react the way I do, even though we're siblings.

I've got to go, but I've got food for thought tonight....

[Candid]

they all think I'm crazy. I'm not. I had a different experience of our parents than they did.

Same here. It hurts that they can't see it, doesn't it? But in my case at least, I think it's won't rather than can't. As far as I know my sibs have no reason to think of me at all...

[Wife#2]

Come here and get a big hug from a 'heart-sister'!!!! Please?

I much prefer my chosen family members, my heart family members. Will you be my heart-sister? Because, Candid, I've come to love you like a valued, true, caring sister. I actually had a blood sister like this, until middle sister died. Nobody can have her spot in my heart, but there's a spot right next to that where you, SanMagic, Three Roses, Tea and several others have been placed.

We must explore, feel and move through what we experienced, and integrate those parts of us into the whole for us to heal. It is hard enough, even with caring folks like you all here in my heart. It would be impossible without you. 

[Candid]

Come here and get a big hug from a 'heart-sister'!!!! Please?

Will you be my heart-sister?

It is hard enough, even with caring folks like you all here in my heart. It would be impossible without you. 

[sanmagic7]

i had a long talk with my bro once about how kids always grow up with different parents, even if they're the same 2 people for all the kids.  kid #1 has brand new parents.  kid #2 has parents with 2 kids, more experience, are older, different perspectives on life, etc.  and down the line for all subsequent kids.  we really do all grow up with different parents and different experiences with them.

he couldn't understand my traumatization until i gave him a few examples of what happened.  then, he was shocked.  he's 9 yrs. younger than me, and my sis and i were out of the house, living across the country by the time he became a teen.  he had our parents all to himself.  very different scenario.

i'm lucky that he was open to listening to me.  i know that is not the norm necessarily.  my sis bugged out of my life over 25 yrs. ago.  no contact since, altho she had kept in contact with my bro, and he eventually broke off contact with her cuz of her narc ways.  he also told me the stuff she'd said about me, most of which were lies.

that whole family dynamic - we're told by adults in our lives, school, church, friends' parents, that moms and dads love their kids.  then we also try to put that together with the reality of how we're being treated by those moms and dads, and we get a skewed reality of what love is.  it's so sinister, so insidious, but as kids we just believe, assimilate the info as best we can, and do what we have to in order to survive.  the problem is, we bring those skewed concepts of love into our adulthood and can't figure out why our relationships don't work, why we continue being abused, and why we feel like it's always our fault that this stuff falls apart.

difficult questions for you, wife2.  difficult realizations.  i hope for your sake that you are able to put those pieces in their proper places and find some peace with them.  i completely agree, this would have been impossible without this family i have come to know and love on this forum.  this is how healing happens - kizzie's posted about it, i've read about it in van der kolk's book - a healing community promotes inner healing.  it's so frickin' true!  big hug to you, my dear.

[Wife#2]

Today I want to write about an event that isn't good or bad, but it's come to my mind, so I think it has some importance. Well, ok, it's really bad, then it gets really good. So, trigger warning about invalidation, but if that doesn't trigger you, then read on... the ending is worth it.

In 10th grade, I decided I wanted to have some good involvement on my high school resume. I knew it would look good on college applications and my goal was to use college to escape home. So, I decided to run for student council.

Mom was only willing to help a little. Her excuse was that if I did most of the work myself, I'd own the results - good or bad. OK, I bought that. She bought some of my campaign supplies - basically some poster board and ink coloring pens.

My friends got really excited for me. They both, dear young ladies, had no courage to try such a thing. I really don't know what made me try. Getting to college was important, but overcoming my natural nerves would prove to be a challenge. Those friends helped me decide on my campaign theme, draw up my posters and hang them up at the school.

I got up at lunch and tried to make the rounds of tables, talking to everyone. I talk easily to anyone, as long as it's about 'nothings'. I made the rounds, had a lot of fun, got a lot of push-back from the popular crowd. My campaign was modest as I didn't have great financial backing of parents (hah). Still, I started to have a little hope that I would be elected to the student council.

Things were going well during the campaign. Only a few posters were vandalized (I expected that), and not so bad that I had to pull them down. People I didn't even know well were shouting encouragements in the hallways between classes.

Then, the day came when we were to give our campaign speeches. I'd never done such a thing, but I'd done some theater in Junior High and Senior High, and Mom and my brother were both pretty good actors, so I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best. Except, Mom lost interest in helping me after buying the campaign supplies. I would tell her excitedly how things were going. I was so excited, I didn't notice the pull-back. Instead of helping me write or practice my speech, she became too involved in her own theater activities to give me any help. I was out of my depths. My speech was written on 5x8 cards, but in pencil. It was long, meandering and didn't make good points.

The speeches would be given in three rounds. First to all the 10th graders, then to all the 11th graders, finally to the Seniors. This seemed like torture, but we had a big High School and could only fit one grade at a time in the auditorium.

I stood on that stage, with 12 fellow 10th graders, and tried. I couldn't hardly read with the glare off my glasses from the stage lights. I lost my place and repeated myself. My nerves could be heard in my quavering voice. The 10th graders began to boo. I hurried, speaking too fast to even be understood. My voice dropped along with my heart. I could see some of the students taking pleasure in my failure - booing all the louder. Finally, it was over. I thought. No, they'd get one more shot at me. The moderator stood all 13 of us up, walked behind us one by one and held their hand over each person's head. Cheers were heard, clapping modestly for others, then LOUD boo's as the hand passed over my head. I was done. I held myself on that stage until the moderator released us.

Then, I ran with all my speed to the dressing room, collapsed in a back corner and cried. My friends were looking for me but couldn't find me. I didn't want to be found. I wanted to disappear, so I cried as quietly as I'd ever known how. The theater instructor knew me and figured out where I'd run. She found me. I wanted her to hold me and sooth me, but she wouldn't. She had a mess of a child on her hands, but she knew me well enough to be tough with me. Not cruel, just a little tough.

Teach: Dry those tears right now, Wife 2. You've got 10 minutes until the next speech.
Me: NO! I'm NOT going back out there. Did you hear them? They BOO'd me! I don't want to get boo'd again!
Teach: You deserved that! Didn't you practice at all?
Me: No, well a little this morning.
Teach: When did you write this speech? Hand it here.
Me: This morning.
Teach: Really, Wife 2? You wrote it in pencil? OMG, child. Get up. (I was on the floor in a heap).
Me: I'm not going back out there, Teach. I won't.
Teach: Yes, you will, only this time, write the speech in ink. Here's a pen. Get busy. You only have about 5 minutes left.

She watched to be sure I did as she said. Then, she helped me clean up my face and get my hair back as I'd done it that morning. Then, she kind of push-pulled me to the stage. I could see the 11th graders filing in and sitting down. I was literally terrified. My hands, knees and every part that could was shaking. The other candidates filtered back on stage and Teach pushed me out to join them. I went to my seat and basically collapsed in it.

While sitting there, one of my 11th grade friends caught my eye. Her face was shining and she was smiling really big. She gave me a thumbs up and mock applause. That gave me just enough courage to not run off stage. Maybe they hadn't heard what a mess I'd made of myself earlier.

I waited my turn. I listened to what the other campaigners were saying. I flipped my speech to just the five speaking points I wanted to make - what I'd campaigned on. I got up and started my speech with a joke of how I'd blown the first speech. Then, I started with my first point and how my view differed from my competition. Then, why my view was better for all the students. Next point, then next, and so on until my speech was given. I used my voice to try to build excitement. I gestured appropriately, I made eye contact - mostly with my friend, but with others as well. I received applause and a couple of whistles and cheers. My smile nearly wrapped around my head it was so huge.

Now, for the torture - the hand over head results. I got cheers again! Not as many as others, but enough to encourage me.

When we were released from stage, I ran to Teach. I gave her a big hug (too bad if she didn't want it - I HAD to hug her). I thanked her for helping me and not letting me run away. She laughed and said that THIS was what she knew I could do. She couldn't let me end this in tears.

Now, I had another 10 minutes to pace until the Seniors showed up. I was excited. I practiced how to say certain phrases to make them sound exciting. There they were! I was ready.

I had friends in that crowd as well, so I searched the audience for them. We locked eyes and I gave her a thumbs up. I knew they'd had time to hear how I'd messed up. She gave me a thumbs up back and we smiled. When it was my turn at the podium, I walked up with confidence.

Again, I didn't disparage anyone else's view, but did make comparisons with how my view would be better for the students. I spoke confidently, I smiled, I made eye contact.

To this day, I couldn't tell you what I said during either of the three speeches. I just know that I felt on fire that last time.

The Seniors applauded, whistled and a few even stood up! I checked, some were my friends, but others were standing up, too!

During the hand-over-head review of candidates, I got huge applause and even more students giving me a standing ovation!

I will never know if Teach asked them to do that for me or if they really did it on their own. I don't really want to know. What I do know is that she refused to let me give up on myself. She did more for me in those 10 minutes in the ladies dressing room than my own mother had done throughout the whole campaign. It is because of Teach that I have a happy ending to this story.

While it's true that I did not make student council, I still count that as a victory.

The students were to vote for all 8 of the council members out of the pool of 13. I received over 400 votes, which is WAY more votes than people I knew. I cheered when I saw the results. My friends and some of my enemies were surprised about that. I just laughed and said, if I could blow it THAT bad with my peers and STILL get 400 votes, I don't think I did that bad.

While it's true that I didn't try again to run for any kind of office, I hold that memory with fondness. Especially for the teacher who reached out and helped. It's how I sometimes remember that what I want isn't always what is best for me. I wanted a hug and to have a good, long cry. What I needed was to go out there again and prove I wasn't a loser. I was a competitor who didn't win. For me, that is the part that matters.

I know my mother was relieved when I didn't win. She didn't understand why I was smiling even though I wasn't chosen. She wasn't there, she wasn't involved, she couldn't understand what the whole experience meant to me.

My sister (heart-mother) was so proud of me when she heard about it. She did give me a mini lecture about planning for big things, which I took with good graces, because she was right. Then, she shared my joy at receiving whistles and a standing ovation.

I really do think this was the point at which I stopped expecting from my mother. I think this is when I realized that it didn't matter how important it was to me. If she chose not to vest in it, she couldn't be excited, sad, happy, anything FOR me. If she vested, she still could, but I couldn't MAKE her want to be a part of anything in my life. This was near the end of 10th grade, I was 15 years old. She's missed out on a lot since then. And that's a shame.

[Hope66]

Hi Wife2,
I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed reading your experience of the speeches, and I think you did so well to continue and that you came out so positively - it was really heartening to read that.   
Hope 

[Wife#2]

I've been told that I have a gift of gab. For that I'm glad. What's funny to me when I read that story is that it sounds like a TV movie of the week. Teen overcomes adversities and succeeds. In the movie version, she'd probably get elected, though LOL. But, that is how it happened.

For the rest of my time at that High School, that teacher was always my favorite. She had good company in my heart, though. I had quite a few very good teachers in High School. She was the one who was there on the day of my 'greatest tragedy' on campus and she helped make my 'greatest victory' on campus possible.

I'm glad you enjoyed reading about this. I think it's on my mind as a reminder to me to reach out. Who knows how much impact listening, caring, doing a little thing for someone else can make the entire difference in a person's life. For the rest of their life.

I don't know if that teacher still remembers me. That awkward, odd looking young lady she helped decades ago. But, I will always remember her and the kindness that felt like meanness that she offered me.

Wow - nostalgia is a nice change from flashbacks, EF's, dissociation and the rest of what so many of us deal with. Yes, I prefer nostalgia.

[sanmagic7]

big smile on my face right now.  great story, wife2.  i loved the 'movie of the week' theme as well.  beautifully done.  that kind of nostalgia is heartwarming and self-confirming.  glad you've got some of those.  yay, you!

[Wife#2]

I just don't know how to move forward with my marriage.

Hubby and I have a complicated relationship. Basically, for him, sex is a thing couples do. The frequency is the measure of the relationship's health. If I complain about feeling untouched, unloved and unappreciated, he buys toys over the internet. Most of the toys are centered around his preferences (makes sense, these things would appeal to him).

Then, he feels completely let down if I don't LOVE the toys. If I don't want to use the toys, my feelings of being ignored intimately are MY fault. He tried. He bought the toys. I have come to hate all of the toys. Because he believes they can replace intimacy and tenderness. They can't.

I have also come to hate sex with him. I mean hate it. I've given him his satisfaction anyway but it's rarely now. He's complaining. I'm tired of hearing it.

I've been telling him for years that lack of intimacy or tenderness from him is killing my sex drive. Well, the * thing is dead now. I have no libido. The only thing he noticed was that he's not getting sex as often as he thinks he should. And he's grumpy.

I wanted to slap him last night when he began complaining. I had to tell him again that his complete lack of intimacy has killed my libido. He turned away from me and huffed. He has told me in the past that it must be a medical problem. I saw a doctor. Nope, nothing wrong physically besides IBS, Sleep apnea, Thyroid condition and menopause. According to my non-physician husband, I should then be good to go. He still doesn't see that the decade of no gentle, loving touch has killed my desire. Worse, his expectations and demands have begun making me feel triggered, resentful, like I should never have married the man.

Because this is an ongoing problem that cycles for him between being understanding and demanding. His idea of tenderness is to hug me from behind, then grope me. Intimacy is to suggest going to have sex while our son is playing a video game. I'm the problem when these two things don't inspire me to passion.

As far as I am aware, he won't cheat on my physically. Mentally and emotionally, he's as much as said that he has. Repeatedly. And wondered why that knowledge didn't kick-start our sex life.

It is this aspect of our life that leads me to believe he is emotionally about 17. He has all the right working parts, knows how to use them, but gets completely distracted by the internal dialogue of 'I deserve sex, we're married' and completely misses the entire relationship building aspect of marriage.

I want to leave him, but I also don't want to leave him. That's absolutely stupid, I know.

Staying with him is unhealthy for me. He's emotionally abusive and withholding. He's financially abusive and withholding. We don't share a vision for our life, nor do we have common values anymore (I used to think we did, but time is proving me wrong).

Leaving him breaks my heart. For all that he does against me, so much doesn't seem deliberate. Also, he does other things that are his best effort at relationship (cook often, clean laundry, sometimes clean house - or parts of it, maintain yard, pay bills). I find myself loving him and not willing to give up over these issues. I realize I'm no picnic to live with and wonder if I'd really be better off without him.

Then, I read my reasons for staying and wonder how co-dependent I am.       

All this typing and I still don't know how to handle being alone with my husband tonight. I know he will do NOTHING truly romantic or intimate or validating of me as a woman or sexual being. Still, because too many days have passed since his last release, he will try to bring pressure on me to perform. Anything short of complete compliance and I am jilting him. Demanding intimacy kind of negates the intimacy demanded. He can apply that last sentence to my wants/needs, but not to his own.

How do I explain this to him where he can finally understand?  I've tried so many different analogies. The well is empty, you can't draw more water from an empty well. The bank account is overdrawn. You haven't made intimacy deposits in years, certainly not enough to make up for the overdrafts. Stop trying to write checks. Toys are not the same as intimacy. They can't hold me, tell me I'm beautiful and desirable. They just buzz and leave me cold. Don't buy any more toys, they won't fix this problem. I do not lack a libido so much as I lack intimacy or relationship with my partner.

Are any of those too vague? I've told him all this in the past, distant and recent. I don't know how else to get through to him that if he equates this ring with regular sex, I'm going to hand him the ring back. because he broke his vows to honor and cherish me. It is neither honoring nor cherishing to have my husband look at me about half an hour before bed time and ask, 'So, are we doing anything tonight or not.' Well, my charming, delightful, intimate partner, when asked like that, my answer can only be - * NO.

I'm so sad about the whole thing now.

[Elphanigh]

Wife#2, first of all lots of hugs 

Second, I think all of your feelings are very justifiable. I have not been married so I do not want to comment as if I have been. However you need to remember to do what is best for you. If that is leaving him than you must do that, no matter how hard.

I would recommend, if you really want to get him to see things and work on repairing what is no longer there, seeing if he would read a book with you. it is titled "The Five Love Languages". It actually did wonders for my parents, and I also read it which has given me a better understanding of my relationships since. If he and you could both read it and discuss what different languages you need for love it might help. His is obviously very physical but it sounds like you need more of the affirmation and acts of kindness kind of love. I think reading about these in a more direct language from someone else might help.

If he is willing to try, I think that will show a level of caring and love in itself. It might help you feel a little more validated as well. Know that your feelings are very important, and you should not have to perform when you don't want to and if it is triggering for you.

What you have told him is very stark and not too vague but I think read that book, and give him more specific examples of things that you would enjoy. ie holding hands when you are doing certain things, hug me this way without groping me for a change etc. Be very specific with what you need right now. It is extremely difficult to do that as a survivor but it can help our loved ones. If he gets solid examples that he can follow it will help him. I find it helps most people, and it can become habit if he works at it and really wants to help you and your relationship.

Sorry that was long. I hope it was helpful. Hugs again to you 

[Lingurine]

Wife#2, I think he's immature, like you mentioned. Sex is not the same as intimacy.
Maybe you can try this and bring it as a game: you two may only massage or scratch each others back, no more. So you have your intimacy and don't do things against your will.

Just trying to be creative 

Lingurine

[Three Roses]

This makes me so sad for you. Here's a big ol' for you!

We have been indoctrinated in the ways of self-denial. So much so, that in many cases we have forgotten what we truly want. And our needs are another thing - it was never okay for us to have needs, much less express them. Add to this lovely mix our being taught to always take care of those around us first, and you get a very unhappy person!

Take the focus off of him. Put the focus on you. No more pleading and cajoling.  He gets what he wants (within reason) when you start getting some non-sexual attention.

I've been where you is, and it ain't no picnic. I am standing beside you, encouraging you! You get a lot from imagery, so here -

I'm taking you by the shoulders, and looking you directly in the eyes. My face is calm, my tone is gentle, my words are strong. I will not be moved. Say it. "I will not be moved." Then I hug you, enfolding you in my arms. You can feel the genuine concern I have for you. Then, you nod - and put your war paint on! 

Believe you're worthy of ______. (You get to fill in the blank.  )

[sanmagic7]

o wife2, my dear sister of the heart, you know i ache for you,  i think you also know how i think about this situation - we've been down this road before.  sit on the porch with me for a minute, and we'll talk this through from every angle you've come at this. 

you know what i've done this past month.  you know why.  so much of it is the same.  there were certainly lots of physical gestures - chores, errands, that kind of thing.  our sex life went down the toilet many years ago because he refused to talk to docs about how his hip replacement surgery and sex would work. 

all in all, he's shown over and over that he's too scared to do what was needed to help the relationship grow.  too many areas shriveled up and were lost because of it.  you are questioning your relationship again.  this time you sound a bit stronger.  your tine will cone.  you'll do what you need to do.  whether it's to stay or to go, you'll know what's right for you, and you'll take the action needed.

this stuff is heartbreaking, for sure.  i know my hub is suffering in ways that i'm not.  he believed i'd never leave, so stayed in his safe little cocoon of denial until it exploded.  there was no turning back for me then.  our relationship had stopped moving forward, and had, in fact, moved backward.  i didn't want to live my life like that.

but, that's me.  it may be different for you.  i have faith that you'll make the correct decision for you - you always have, you always will.  you are so wonderful, and you deserve someone wonderful beside you.  it's up to the two of you to come up with ways to fix this, not just you looking at it from every angle possible.  one person cannot fix a coupleship.

i'll sit on the porch with you whenever you want.  it's a good, solid, strong porch with a beautiful view of the future.  you deserve that porch and everything like it.  everything that benefits your life and your healing/recovery.   love and hugs always, dear wife2.

[Wife#2]

Oh, everyone, how I thank you all!

I can't say it, Three Roses. I want to. I am trying, but I still can't say it. But, I did cry with feeling your love and kindness!

San, sister, San. You are braver than I am. I still keep finding excuses to stay. They echo hollow in my ears, yet I still say them. So, yes, I'll join you on the porch, feel the breeze calm my spirit, soak in the view of the future and hope.

We, hubby and I, had a long talk on Sunday. The end result is that he feels rejected and unloved (his own cPTSD issues flaring as well). I feel unloved as a person and without intimacy, I am dead. Emotionally dead to him. He finally got that. He tried. He asked if I could allow him this effort that night.

I was angry, he picked up on that. He fails to see that I've been saying the same thing since our son was born. Before that, even. Still, to see if I was right, that he is completely incapable of intimacy of any kind, I allowed him this last effort. He doesn't realize it yet, but I can't keep going on like this.

Failing to understand a thing of what I said, he stayed on his side of the living room for the rest of the evening. Then, he showed lots of affectionate attention to the two puppies we are (supposedly, I don't think that's a good idea right now) keeping. Then, off to bed. Where he tried all he knows how to do. Turn off the lights, touch for five minutes, then straight to what he thinks is my 'on switch'. That didn't work and he was almost as disappointed at that 'power failure' as I was that this was his best effort to she me that it is ME, the human being known as (here Wife#2), that he wants to be with - not just a female body that prevents him from having to self-service. That wears his ring.

I do speak in analogies a lot. I do that because he seems to not get any actual discussion of my emotions. If I can turn my emotional state into some solid, definable thing, he starts to get it. I've just thought of another that me may get. However, I think it'll be to explain why I can't go on anymore.

He keeps plugging the lamp into the wall outlet and getting mad that no light comes on. He's forgotten that the house needs to be maintained and that the wire TO that outlet has been flickering for years. It doesn't even matter whether it was age, mice or a careless wall repair that damaged the wire. Now, it no longer supplies power to the outlet. Getting mad at the outlet or the house won't fix the problem. Replacing the bulb or the lamp isn't going to have ANY effect on the outlet's functioning.  Hiring an electrician may fix the problem temporarily, but it won't last for long if he doesn't get busy maintaining the house the way the HOUSE needs to be maintained, not how HE wants to do it. The broken outlet is proof that his way isn't working.

This is very accurate, both in the way he DOES NOT maintain our relationship or our house. His way is not working for either and he 's very frustrated that his efforts, in his mind major sacrifices of effort, isn't producing the desired results.

Three Roses, I'm going to try to speak those words, at least in my head. I still choke when I try to say them - even just in my head. Wow, I really AM co-dependent in a HUGE way. Still, I'm not giving up. *I will not be moved*. Wow. Hard to type even. *I will not be moved*. I am worthy of genuine love that can meet me at least half-way. *I will not be moved*. It's going to take time for me to say this out loud.

San, remind me how much better life can be out of an unhealthy relationship. Remind me how sleep can actually come when you're not constantly worried about how someone else is feeling, thinking, responding. Let's enjoy another round - this time, I think I need it to be rum & soda. It may just do me good to imbibe a little alcohol for the first time in nearly a decade, allow my shoulders to relax, my lungs to deeply and calmly breathe and to accept that I can't fix this alone.