It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To

I am going to be 40 this week.
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That may not seem like a huge deal to others. But I have never been a fan of birthdays. Particularly milestones. Once I hit 21, I was legally able to do everything I wanted to and I would have stopped aging right there if given the choice.
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Any attempts at birthday celebrations generally went heinously awry. There was always some sort of disaster, drama or similar misfortune. It got to the point where I did not even want to have my birthday acknowledged.
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I kept this preconceived checklist of where I should be at that age and, when I never found myself where I wanted to be, I allowed it to drown me. 25 was very tough for me. 30 was difficult but not as bad as 25 because I was getting married when I was 30. I was divorced and five months pregnant when I turned 35. Excited but unsure and alone...not a good one. Each year since then has just felt like a death march towards "The Big 4-0" I just knew that 40 would be utterly devastating.
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And then.....a funny thing happened on the way to my birthday..... :o)
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I think it's called acceptance. Acceptance of self, acceptance of my journey, acceptance that I can't control everything in my world. And the realization that hating my birthday wastes an awful lot of energy. It says alot about how far I've come in the past year and in the past 39! I am fully embracing 40 with both arms. I feel good. I'm telling everyone. I'm enjoying celebrations and parties. If you had told me 15, 10 or even 2 years ago that I'd be pumped up about my 40's, I may have punched you in the head. I have such good feelings about where my life has led me and there is something inside me that knows I'm about to embark on some pivotal things. It's exciting to see where I've come to and exciting to think about what lies ahead.
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I would have stayed at 21 if I could have; would have made a deal with the devil himself to retain my youth. What an immature fool! Bring on my 40's! Older and wiser, indeed.

Wedded Agony

I got married in 1999. This year would be my ten year anniversary. We should have never gotten married. I obviously had father and abuse issues to work out still. My ex is VERY much like my father. Doing some spring cleaning the other day, I found some notes I made obviously before a counseling session about what happens when we fought:

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I say something that he takes offensively. He gets angry & he becomes offensive in return.

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If I try to explain how I meant something I said, I either get the disbelieving "Mmmm-Hmmmm", or I get the lecture on "It's not what you said, it's how you said it," or I get the no-win "So, are you lying now, or were you lying then?" Trying to talk my way out of any of these goes nowhere. He is stuck in his stubborn mmindset.

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If I walk away, he stews and gets more angry.

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If I tell him that I need time, he will follow me or yell to me until I come back and finish the conversation. He hates to give me my time. On the occasions that he has allowed me some time, he is utterly furious by the time I'm ready to talk. Knowing he feels this way, it makes it impossible for me to relax & think. I spend it all worrying about how angry he's getting.

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If I stay calm and try to be gentle, he accuses me of pacifying him, talking down to him, or tells me to quit my "psycho-babble."

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If I cry, he says he must be the "no good SOB who made me cry so why would I want to be with him?", or he accuses me of making myself cry to manipulate him or he shuts down completely and can't deal with me.

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When we discuss parameters or boundaries for disagreements, he usually agrees but when we fight, it all goes out the window. When I try to remind him that made these agreements to improve communication, I either get "Oh great, I failed you again. What else can I do wrong?" of he will tell me that I can't expect him to control himself when he's mad. After all, as he says "Fighting is war." Someone has to win and he will do whatever he has to do to win.

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Other times if I make suggestions, he feels I'm telling him what to do. If I ask him to make suggestions, he won't. More often, he will say something like "Well, if you hadn't walked away from me, none of this would have happened in the first place."

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His other response when I ask him what he can do is to say "I will just always say 'yes dear' and then you can have everything you want, I'll be your little puppet, and then you'll be happy."

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He beats me down until I feel I have no choice but to cry and apologize a hundred times. It's not good enough for him. I can't just give in. If I want the agony to end, I have to tell him that I no longer have my own opinion on the subject but that I agree with him.

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Oh my gosh, I feel so horrible for my old self when I read back on this. I was so miserable, SO miserable. It actually knots up my stomach when I read it. I have notes all over this page reminding myself that I have the right to take care of myself and to expect to be treated respectfully. I'm happy that I've learned so much but the hard roads I had to travel to get here have sure been hell. The last part, about him forcing me to agree with him before he'd let it go....it reminds me of the night my father forced me to admit that I made up everything I said about my brother abusing me. Horrid.

The Bubble Has Burst

For my mother, that is.

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Let me give some backstory on my Mom. Her mother, my Nana, was an alcoholic who was married five times. My Mom had one half brother, John, who was 10 years older and a full brother, Jim, who was a couple years younger than she. The half brother was from my grandmothers first marriage. My mom and her brother were from the second. The first husband died of natural causes, the second (my grandfather) killed himself. Third and Fourth husbands....one was a divorce and the other was another suicide. Her fifth and final husband died of natural causes. It's not a huge surprise to me that my grandmother drank with all that in her past.

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My mother was quite young when her father died. In fact, she didn't know that he killed himself until about 1990. My grandmother had moved into a nursing home at that time and when my Mom was cleaning out my grandmother's apartment, she found her father's death certificate that confirmed "self inflicted." After he passed away, my grandmothers drinking became out of control. My mom told me stories of her as a child dumping out bottles of vodka and refilling them with water; stories of her calling the town liquor stores and begging them to stop selling to her mother. By this time, John was away at boarding school then to be followed by college and military service. She really didn't know him. My grandmother, more interested in drinking and husbands, sent my Mom and Jim to live with other families.

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Knowing this much about my Mom's background, it's understandable why her sole desire for her own life was to have a stable family and keep it together at all costs. She swung the pendulum from one extreme to the other without ever seeing the harm she was doing by holding onto a family and a marriage that was not working. More than once, my mother walked in on my brother sexually abusing me. And, every time, she turned around, closed the door and walked away. She was unable to deal with it. While that evokes anger in me, that she didn't help me, I really can also "get" it. God knows how dissociation has served me in my life even when it was the wrong choice to make. It is, after all, just the mind shutting down from that which it cannot handle. She could not handle anything that pointed out the dysfunction of her longed-for family.

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When I broke my silence about the abuse, my mother really did nothing in either direction. I imagine she was entirely numb. My father was the one who went on a tirade. At me, of course. Made me admit I was lying and apologize to my brother. My mother, who had seen it with her own eyes, stood there and said nothing. For many, many years my mother has "stood there and said nothing" about any number of situations my brother has gotten into trouble with. She always gave him the benefit of the doubt. Marital problems, issues with my father, business problems, even when my brother was accused of, and fired for, sexual harassment. She always believed he was just haunted by bad luck. All this time, I've rolled my eyes at her naivity, knowing that it was simply karma surrounding my brother. His "bad luck" was really just the edification of "what goes around comes around." But I had accepted that she could not see it. She divorced my father about 16 years ago which was incredibly difficult for her considering her one desire for her life. At that point, she became even more vested in maintaining relationships with her kids. She and I have had a rocky relationship at best due to the choice she made. Only in the past year have I really come to process some of this stuff and find my love for her again.

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Yesterday my mother called me and told me that she has finally come to realize that my brother is nothing more than a manipulative pathological liar. She said she was sure it's something I've known all along and that she was so sorry it took her this long to realize it. Some things have happened of late, things she was not supposed to find out about but did, that I guess were too much for her to continue living in denial of. She said she is disgusted and sick. She's had his name taken off everything financial and she called her attorney to write him out of her will. She says she believes this will be the end of all contact with him. While I don't believe that is the case, I do believe that she has seen the unfortunate truth and I don't think she can turn that off now. She said she feels duped and that everything out of his mouth is bullshit. For as long as I can remember, my brother has had an unbelievable gift for twisting the truth in innumerable directions to gain favor of the person he's telling the story to. He's played my parents against each other more times that I can count.

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I suppose I should be happy that she's finally seen the truth. I suppose I should feel some sort of vindication that she realizes how her choice to not see him for who and what he is damaged me. More than anything, right now, I find myself relating to her not as MY Mom but rather just as A Mom.....a fellow Mom..... And I cannot fathom the pain of realizing the worst about your own child. I've not yet allowed this to sink in on an emotional level for myself. I'm not sure what to think about it yet.

The Truth Hurts

Bianca has been talking about her "Daddy" alot lately.

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A brief history for anyone who doesn't know: She's never met her bio-father (his choice). I dated my XBF, Tom, starting when Bianca was 2 months old until she was almost 2 1/2 years old and she knew him as her daddy. She hasn't seen him since January of 2007 when we broke up.

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Last Weds, after a night of playing outside with our neighbors and watching her friend interact with her father, Bianca was obviously feeling some angst. She said "Tom is my Daddy. I miss my Daddy but I don't really know him anymore." The next day, she told me that she wanted to go to Daddy's house and visit him.

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It breaks my heart. Father issues are sensitive for me to begin with. Seeing her experience father-pains as well just tears me to shreds. She really doesn't know the story of her bio-father. I will someday tell her but she has enough to process right now without me adding that to the mix. I never tell her that Tom is not her Daddy. After all, we let her call him that so I'm not going to take it away from her now. When she talks about "Daddy", I engage in conversation with her but 99% of the time, I will refer to him as Tom, just trying to shift that dynamic in her head. I tell her age-appropriate things. Mommy & Tom don't see each other anymore, it has nothing to do with her, etc. etc. Last week, I thought of a good point to add in and I told her that some people are in her life for a long time....people like Mommy and Gramma. Other people are only part of our lives for a little while. I cited a few friends who have gone on to Kindergarten or moved away. And I also included Tom. When we have these kinds of conversations, she listens for a minute and then she'll change the subject. I let her change the subject. I figure she's basically telling me she's heard enough.

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We always go away the beginning of June and last year, I lucked out. Father's Day was early and she missed Father's Day projects at school while we were on vacation. We're going the same week this year but Father's Day is later and so she'll be back in school when they do their FD projects. I decided to bring it up to her teacher just so we could get a head start in thinking about how to handle it. Funny I mention it, the teacher tells me, because Bianca had just said something odd. Out in the playground, they were getting ready to come back inside and Bianca told her that either her Mom or her Dad was coming to pick her up. Teacher says "Your Mom is coming to pick you up." and Bianca says "I wish my Dad was coming." *sigh*

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Back to the project situation, the teacher tells me they have had this a couple times before in the past. Could Bianca make something, instead, for an uncle, grandfather, etc? Well, she doesn't have any of those (since her uncle and grandfather are both abusive bastards and are not in her life). Okay....how about if she makes something for me, instead? They explain that I am like Mommy and Daddy for her. An understandable suggestion but, in her mind, she has a Daddy already so telling her that I'm also the Dad isn't going to fly. She's too smart and WAY too literal to buy into that. We agree to just think about it and figure out something. If it were a one day project, I'd probably just pull her out of school that day. But it's something they will work on a little bit every day for the whole week.

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Yesterday, she was playing with blocks and she called one of the blocks "Daddy's house" and was "pretending" that we were going to visit Daddy's house. I stopped her and looked into her eyes. I held her hands and I started to cry. I told her that I always want to help her to do the things she wants to do but..... (trailing off.....how do I tell her this?) I say "We will never see Daddy again. Do you understand that?" She shakes her head no and puts it down on my shoulder and cries. I hugged her and I cried too. When she lifted her head back up, I told her that I know she doesn't understand it. I told her it's ok to think about him and talk about him. And I told her that he's not part of our life anymore. I also explained that "Daddy's" are supposed to act a certain way and Tom didn't do a good enough job of being a Daddy. He didn't act the right way. I told her that she and I are a family and she will have me forever, that I will always be her Mommy. It was a painful moment of truth for both of us.

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I don't know if I handle these things the right way. It's so tough to navigate. I'm hoping that maybe it will help her shift away from Tom in her head but the fact is....she's not seen him in almost 2 1/2 years. She's not missing *him* per se but she is clearly feeling the absence of a father figure. I wish I knew how to fill that void for her. My biggest fear is that if I don't find a way to fill it now that she will grow up seeking to fill it in very unhealthy, painful and destructive ways. Just like her Mom did.

"Will Katie be okay?"

***Possible Trigger Warning***
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Criminal Minds is one of my favorite shows on TV. It doesn't hurt that one of the stars, Shemar Moore, is totally dreamy!! Anyway, I was watching a TiVo'd episode over the weekend that really struck home.
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A six year old girl goes missing from a mall. There had been a similar incident the previous week where another young girl was abducted from a mall and later found dead. The six year old girl, Katie, was at the mall with her parents and also with her Aunt, Uncle and their son. The families had separated in order to do some shopping. Realizing the girl is missing and it may be a serial killer because of the similar circumstance, the FBI BAU is brought in. The storyline develops as they do their investigation and realize that things are not adding up. They find an expensive gold & gemstone necklace that Katie had been wearing and it was torn off in such a way that indicated this abduction was personal and not random like the prior incident.
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Searching the home of the young girl for clues to who may have a grudge against her, they discover she's been wetting her bed. They also find barbie dolls that are marked up with mouths and eyes blackened out. They determine a strong liklihood that Katie was being molested. The team takes to interviewing all the family members separately and eventually reveal that the uncle, her father's brother, has been molesting her for years. He had bought her the necklace as a keep-quiet gift. His wife (Katie's aunt) knew what was happening and, instead of turning him in or protecting Katie, she decided to get rid of the object of her husbands affection. She arranged this shopping trip and tried to make it look like Katie was abducted. She tied her up, taped her mouth shut and put her in a storage closet in some deserted back area of the mall.
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Naturally, the BAU finds her just in the nick of time. She had no pulse but they were able to revive her. In the end of the show, Katie is being wheeled away in a stretcher. The Aunt and the Uncle are both being arrested. Their son stands there with the FBI agents and asks "Will Katie be okay?" The agent tells the boy that she will make a full recovery.
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Full recovery? What do they know about how an abuse victim "recovers"? As they tried to revive her, of course the Mom in me doesn't want to see a 6 year old die and I'm hoping to see her breathe again. The abuse survivor in me is on the fence.....which way is she better off? Because there is no "full recovery" for someone who has been through that. And yes, it's a TV show......but that kind of molestation and the ensuing cover-up, silence, shame and pain are all too real for entirely too many children. They are reviving her to a life of questions, guilt, shame, isolation, anger and self-loathing. She's going to carry guilt and blame for her uncle and aunt going to prison, for her cousin becoming a foster child. She's going to run it through her mind thousands, millions, countless numbers of times why she didn't tell someone or say no or stop him from abusing her. She's going to feel dirty, different, ashamed and like she has nothing in common with other children her age. She is a little girl with adult experiences that she can't process and she won't feel like she fits in with peers at any age. She will feel fear, distrust, suspicion and unsafe wherever she goes. PTSD, depression, anxiety, panic attacks. She's signing up for years of therapy, maybe medications or addictions. Perhaps bad relationships and re-victimizing herself over and over. She's in for a lifetime of nightmares, flashbacks, sensory & body memories....things she can't make go away no matter how hard she tries.
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Has she really been saved? Or would she be better off resting in peace?

Gatekeeper

Had T Weds night and I went with no particular agenda. As is always the case, Susan asks me to just relax & breathe and see what comes up for me. I've been feeling particularly stressed lately with alot on my plate. It was a rather hectic weekend and the first half of the week wasn't any better.

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There is a funny thing that happens to me when I relax. Whenever I do my grounded breathing I get a headache. It happens after about a minute when I finally start to let down. If I fight it, the headache is prolonged. If I just breathe through it then it goes away in about a minute and that is how I know I'm really relaxing. I asked Susan what she thinks that could be. She can't say for certain but she believes it's my mind trying to hold onto everything that I intellectualize instead of allowing it to let down and be felt as emotions. It makes sense and goes along with the way I feel it in my head. That is crazy....my mind actually causes itself pain trying not to let me feel pain??

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Anyway, we talked about my busy-ness and she told me I need to do two things. #1: Be more realistic when making plans or taking on obligations. Did I really NEED to volunteer to bring a salad, an entree AND dessert for the teachers during Provider Appreciation Week?? Could I not have done just ONE thing instead?? I get too wrapped up in things. Sure, I thought about just doing the entree but then, *gasp*, horror-of-horrors....what if the salad someone else made didn't compliment my entree? I chose three simple things but Susan is right, add them all together on a Monday night and no, I wasn't being realistic about what I could do. What ends up happening is that I sacrifice sleep. Now, in the old days.....that was no big deal. An extra cup of java and I'm good to go. But you know....I'm not 22 anymore. I'm going to be 40 in a few weeks and that crap doesn't fly anymore. I woke up with a headache that grew into a migraine until I could not function at work and I ended up having to sleep it off in my car while I should have been working. So I really need to think realistically about my plans and their consequences. That made me scared. I felt fear at the thought of saying no to things.

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And #2: When I'm in the middle of doing something, be there. Don't be into the next thing in my mind already. While my weekend was very full, it was all fun stuff. But you know, I didn't really have that much fun because in my head, I was stressing about what comes next. Even though I had to be a bit of a clockwatcher all weekend, there is no reason I should not have allowed myself to be present and enjoy the party, the get-together, ice skating, etc.

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"Being Present" is something that Susan and I discuss often. But we've decided to make it a big time focus in the coming weeks and months. In fact, she said that once I can get a handle on this, it will be good timing to come off my anxiety meds. Anxiety, she said, is caused primarily when one is either storytelling, jumping ahead to the future or clinging to the past. If living in the present and staying grounded, well....unless there is an extreme situation going on, there's not alot to be anxious about.

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"Speaking of 'clinging to the past'," I say to Susan, "Why can't I get Tom out of my head?" (Tom is XBF who I broke up with over 2 years ago but I saw him recently and he's been on my mind again) I don't love him anymore and I know enough bad stuff about him now that there should be no reason for me to ever think of him!! But you know, I really did truly love that man. He is the first and only man I've ever really loved and I guess that holds a place in my heart. More than that, though, I realized that it's just all the plans we'd made together and that every so often, I get the jab of "this is not where I was supposed to be at this point in my life" Even as I write it now, the threat of tears stings my eyes and I hold it back so hard that my jaw and my head ache. This is what happened in Susan's office, as well. I can understand it now because I'm at work. But why when I was safe in therapy? I tried to breathe into it, I tried to connect to it and release it. But it was NOT going to happen. My body was braced so hard against it. I made an offhand remark to Susan that it was not getting past "the Gatekeeper". Susan told me to address this "gatekeeper" and even suggested I write a letter to it/him/her.

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When I searched for images of a Gatekeeper, I was pleasantly surprised to find out it's a type of butterfly! That's a nice image. But the image I had in my mind was dark, a faceless, ghoulish figure, hunched over a covered barrel, reaching out with a deformed arm scooping up the bits of emotion that were beginning to escape and shoving them back into the barrel quickly slamming a lid back down on top so no more could get out.

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At the end of the session, I thought about what we'd discussed. Unable to relax, over extending myself, not allowing myself to enjoy fun things, afraid to be different, holding onto grief and unwilling to let it go. And all I could say was "Man, I'm really determined to torture myself, aren't I?" I *know* that life would be so much better without all this baggage but for the life of me, I don't know how to be different. It's so frustrating when I can see the goal but I can't seem to get there. And the only obstacle is me.