Amethyst, your description fits me so well...are you me?
Ditto to what has been said above. But I would like to add, that once you decide not to have false friends, it might be a long lonely road to find real frineds. Maybe that won't happen for all, but for me, I feel like a hermit. But when I decide to go ahead and make some superficial friends, I just get burnt again, so back in my cave.
a lonesome
Plucky
((((Plucky)))) My inner voice tells me there is no loneliness greater than that of being caught in a toxic relationship.
I spent sixteen years in my first marriage because I was afraid of being alone, because I had the fantasy that my N ex was really a loving person underneath his facade of controlling abusiveness, because my ex would straighten up and act like a decent human being for awhile whenever I threatened to leave, because I believed that my ex was really capable of permanent change, because I felt sorrow and compassion for my ex (his parents were terribly destructive to him) and because I am an ACOA that can be incredibly loyal. (A positive characteristic that can work to one's detriment if applied to the wrong people.) Looking back, I should have left the week after we got married because the minute we got married, the ex changed the rules and became abusive. The irony was that I was more "alone" in that relationship than I was after I left because so much of my energy and selfhood was spent and wasted taking care of the feelings and demands of my N exhusband.
My illusion of partnership shattered when my daughter arrived. It was if my ex felt,"Ok, I've got you now! You are trapped with a baby and your $18,000 a year job isn't enough to support you both, so I can be as selfish and abusive as I've wanted to be all along. No matter what you say and no matter what you do, I have the upper hand." It was like the start of our marriage all over again, but worse, because there was a child involved. I maybe didn't have the strength or wisdom to leave when I was young, but when I thought of what it would be like for my daughter to grow up seeing abuse, I got courage. I know now that becoming a mother tapped into my inner child, or true self, who had been buried and unheard for decades. I could suddenly see that my marriage looked and felt frighteningly like the marriage of my parents, and as sewage moves downstream, the abuse would trickle down to my daughter, too. As far as my ex was concerned, our roles as mom and daughter were to look pretty (of course no money could be spent on clothes or haircuts), sit quietly, make as little noise as possible, and not cost him anything in terms of time, energy, care or money. I suddenly realized that my ex saw us as cardboard cut-outs.
Things like ear infections, diarrhea and chicken-pox were seen as deliberate attempts by my daughter to cost him money and time. He was angry, insulted, and affronted. How dare she contract an usual childhood disease? Developmental milestones threw him for a loop. How dare she change?
I remember sitting alone at my desk and suddenly thinking,"Do I want to be married to this guy for the next sixteen years?" The answer, from deep inside, where my truth telling true self was buried at the time, was a resounding "NO!!!" I thought,"Ooops! You shouldn't have thought that thought." and the answer from deep inside was,"It's too late. You have already thought that thought and now you need to do something about it because you know it is the truth. If you stay, both you and the baby are going to die. You need to leave with the baby now." So I did.
Within a month, I was in recovery and going to therapy. I never could have had the privacy, the money, the energy, the fortitude or the time to do that within the marriage...my ex would have sabotaged it in every way possible. Cardboard cutouts don't need therapy and recovery.
About the going to die part, a few years later my ex said to me,"It's a good thing you left when you did. I was ready to kill you both. You made me so angry that I knew I was going to get violent. You could both have had a terrible accident and nobody would have figured it out." He was being his usual abusive and very scary self...but what he didn't realize is that he sometimes spoke the truth in his rages.
When I have been caught up in friendships that start to feel toxic, that little inner voice starts to ask questions. "Do you want to be listening to _________ rave on about the same bs at this time next year?" "Do you want to be taking care of ________'s feelings forever? It's not mutual." "Do you think that _______ ever listens to you or sees you for who you are, or are you just a sounding board?" "_________ seems awfully competitive and makes mean remarks about other women. Do you think somebody like that won't turn on you?" "Why do you feel drained and depressed when you are with ________?"
A great miracle is that I am happily married to someone who would hate for me to be a cardboard cutout, who loves me, warts, difficulties and all. The feeling is mutal. I love my husband for who he really is. My loyalty is not misplaced...nor is his. At the base of our relationship is the best friendship either of us have ever had. Because of this, I have to believe there are others who will want to be true friends. Surely my husband and I are not that unique. (He says he also feels like a hermit.)
I just have to listen to that true self and get my ego out of the way. I think I am going to put up sticky notes or write that on my hand until I finally get it.
