Author Topic: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns  (Read 12345 times)

river

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #45 on: November 14, 2010, 04:21:08 PM »
And that question about stuff like 'the internal saboteur', is it part of me, or is it something from someone else?   Gosh, its a paradoxical thing.  On one hand its my impaired, undernourished real self, crying out for an ally.  On the other hand, it really has felt like something directly from a force of evil, from a not me source,  the voice of invitation to self destruct, and the reward is 'pleasure'.  But pleasure as part of self-destruction, that feels about as close to an evil force as it gets.    I struggled with this all my life, and never stopped looking for help.  It arose from the implicit meaning, and ultimate conclusion of the hidden destruction in my FOO, and this arising from NM's unconscious stuff.     I like the way Patricia Evans put it: 

"their souls become the battle ground between good and evil"     

Its something about implicit communication, about a trajectory.   I have some recovery, but the truth is Im physically and mentally battered.   I believe for me it was a lot of introject involved.  As far as I can see, this is so under-recognised in psychology.   

Which of the Schore books did you get so much from?

Good luck with your situation for now, anyway.   I envy you for having deer wandering around, even tho it costs the gardening possibilities. 

river

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #46 on: November 14, 2010, 04:27:59 PM »
ps, excuse intimely non-sequiteur from previus posts in the middle of this important and difficult time. 

r.

BonesMS

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #47 on: November 15, 2010, 08:47:33 AM »
((((((((((((((((((((((PR)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

It's hard to find the right words as I've had to make similar decisions when NWomb-Donor took a turn for the worse.  One decision that she DID take out of my hands was in regard to the feeding tube.  She was lucid enough to authorize that.  I was simply a witness to her authorization.  (I caught HELL from the VULTURES who couldn't wait to go through all of her stuff...AGAIN!  That's another story!)

I had the DNR, in writing, so when that time came for her, I was able to pull it out and show it to the attending physicians.  Without that legal document, the physicians have no choice but to take heroic measures until the last breath.

Been there, done that, NOT fun!

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((PR))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Bones
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sKePTiKal

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #48 on: November 16, 2010, 04:06:21 PM »
THANK YOU! EVERYONE!

Hops & I share the same opinions and feelings on this topic. I had to made a snap decision and get hubs' agreement quickly - because I knew D & Bro would want some time with her... and we literally did not know, nor could this hospital tell us, what had happened. I guess the massive rbrain stroke showed on their CT scan, tho - the ER nurse said she was being transferred because OBX doesn't have an ICU. They just didn't want to be the ones to tell us, is closer to the truth.

Big city hospital doc told trauma nurse daughter in law, that there really wasn't any point in going over eeg results; the stroke was that massive. And it took some time for the reality of the situation to sink in - even for me. I was pretty obsessed with trying to find cause & "fix" - and my friend pulled me away from it, because there wasn't a fix and the info I'd given her told her (from her experience with the elderly) that MIL was ready to go... and we were only prolonging her process for our own reasons. The ocean - which I haven't spent much time with since moving here - helped a great deal. It took 4 days, but eventually we found her living will (it's a DNR) and everyone got on the same page about finally stopping the misery for MIL. Morphine started around noon; tubes out at 1 pm. My animals knew this morning. I'd just started to sleep good, when the old puppy had a coughing fit and woke me at 4. Then the kitties started up. And within minutes phones were ringing and texts coming in. I just got up and made more coffee. She passed shortly after 5 am. Like I'd told one of the family's doctors, I'd noticed that MIL's brain sort of "let loose"; let go; all the connections expanded and separated during the night... and that this is what I expected for her, in her experience. It was as gentle as we could hope for her. I'd had my DIL bring up an afghan that belonged to MIL's mama; it was hers... and MIL stroked it and held it through the night. I told MIL what color it was and where it came from, so she would know what I brought her. And I told her it was OK - she was in charge now. To rest. And truly, without the life support she did immediately appear more comfortable, at peace, happy that we were finally getting out of her way. Hubby and I weren't there. Exhaustion was going to put me in the room next to her - and hubs has done this with all the rest of his immediate family. We didn't want to the reason she might worry or caretake.

Instead, we talked about grief. Processing grief. What it looks like - and why I have issues surrounding this. And we are grieving, together - which is a new thing for both of us. And, in hubby's words, moving on. Where was he all those years ago when I didn't know how to do this, no one was there to teach me, and in fact - my grief probably triggered the worst of the mom-abuse I experienced?

Well. It's never too late. And I remembered what I'd stumbled on so many years ago when I was immersed in misery, too: the intensity of our grief equals the intensity of our caring; our love... it's really just two different ways of looking at exactly the same thing.

I'll be back. I've got to rest. My nerves are all jumpy; muscles achy; it's been a weeklong blur of long nights and early mornings.

And river - we'll start comparing notes on the original topic!! I've been picking up small puzzle pieces this past week which fit into this topic. Glad you're back.
Success is never final, failure is never fatal.

Hopalong

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #49 on: November 16, 2010, 05:58:10 PM »
Oh, Amber.
I am so very sorry for this loss.

I so wish you could have had her for longer, but what a blessing to her you were, and what a blessing to you she was...

Much love to you, and gentleness in your grieving.

You will roll in the surf but you will not sink.

much much love,

Hops
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Lollie

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #50 on: November 16, 2010, 06:47:48 PM »
So sorry for your loss, PR. I hope you can get some rest.

Lollie.
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Dr. Richard Grossman

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #51 on: November 16, 2010, 07:24:19 PM »
I'm so sorry, PR.  She was very lucky to have you...

Best wishes,

Richard

lighter

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #52 on: November 16, 2010, 09:08:12 PM »
I'm sorry this hurts so much, (((Amber.)))

Please know that your MIL is at peace. 

No more pain.

No more fear.

Lighter



ann3

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #53 on: November 17, 2010, 12:44:06 AM »
I am so sorry for your loss PR.

BonesMS

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #54 on: November 17, 2010, 09:39:12 AM »
(((((((((((((((((((((PR)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Bones
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sKePTiKal

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #55 on: November 18, 2010, 10:23:53 AM »
thank you thank you thank you.....    THANK YOU

I thought perhaps that my SOS posts about MIL didn't really belong in this thread. But now, I'm convinced that they do and that contained in my relationship with MIL is the key to what I set out to do with this thread.

How many times have I said it? Everything I was told about myself by my mom was WRONG? Everything she accused me of... blamed me for... made me responsible for..... every little thing she said I was.... was distorted, off the mark, inaccurate, and was more about HER - than me.

But kids don't know this. I didn't know it. She was my mom - surely, if there was anyone I could trust it would be her, right? And she kept us so isolated in her agoraphobic, paranoid, "they're not like us and are out to get us" bubble that when I did come in contact with "normal" people I didn't grant any validity to their feedback about me. Dump some real, violent trauma on top of that and wow - it's no wonder I always second-guessed myself, had zip confidence in my perception, judgement, put myself down & last on the list to care for... and always felt "broken"... inept, klutzy, ugly, awkward, dumb, naive, selfish.... ad nauseum.

It was some bizarr-o illusion that she created and persuaded me to believe about myself. And when I did believe and ran into real evidence that was contrary to the criteria of the illusion I had an unresolvable "problem" of cognitive dissonance. And this is what my real "split" was - the exiled self I put carefully away into Twiggy's chinese box. The inconsolably grieving self who kept wondering "who" this woman was who said she was my mother - and didn't act like it a bit. The self that my mom said didn't exist; the self that couldn't do anything "right" or "good enough" - - - - - - - for her.

It was a rational act (supplied with immense emotional energy) to punish myself, in light of that. A rationalization.

The rationalization goes like this:
I must be deformed - intellectually, emotionally, physically - I am a reject; morally corrupt; therefore, I am BAD. It's only some accident that I even exist. I am not worthy to interact like a person of good sense, judgement and caring with "normal" people. Because other people can't tell this about me (based on the cognitive dissonance experiences) I've got to have some way to signal to them that I am bad. Like a scarlet letter; a visible sign to avoid me - stay away - save yourselves.

Back in the day - "bad" kids smoked. Their "badge" of cool dishonor. They still do.

At a more primal level, the rationalization was fueled with real unaddressed, unacknowledged needs - a whole list of them. And so I looked for something to assuage the needs - a pacifier or substitute. Like even something as basic as "I am real and I exist". Interesting to freudians, that I would choose some oral fixation like this, I'm sure...... but that points directly at the "search for the archetypal mother" and the flashing neon arrows pointing at it make it unmistakeable.

Smokers are masters of rationalization. OH MAN... that was a boring meeting.... I need:                 a cigarette.
Always the thought is: I need                           and the answer is always                                   a cigarette.

Sure, some of that is physical addiction and the discomfort that comes from depriving oneself of the substance. Ironically, the times I have quit temporarily, I have fewer physical withdrawal symptoms than many people complain of and a shorter duration. Instead - I deal with (mis?)perceived unfilled "needs" of a more emotional, attachment (connection) nature. And because of the nature of those unfilled needs... and the original symbolism/stigma of the first cigarettes... the ONLY way I felt I could fill those needs was with a cigarette. To not smoke would be to fundamentally alter - change - who and what I am. My SELF. My identity.

To not smoke, would mean to let go of all the pieces of pain incorporated into the illusion of Amber that my mother created and force fed into me and let change happen. Organically. "Not doing" is a different process than "doing". Not doing inherently implies a lack of effort, energy... no struggle... a "giving up".... and into that new void, fill the real needs behind the pantomine of "I need a cigarette".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The past 3-4 weeks have been incredible. Immensely physically exhausting. Immensely emotional. Intellectually frustrating. A whole huge fiery indigestible furrball of life. A perfect storm is how someone described MIL's last month. And really simple and elegant, from MIL's perspective. There wasn't anything to understand or figure out or fix, for her. She was "going home" one last time and bid farewell surrounded in love to the love that was waiting for her.

I've only known her 10 years. And I was extremely wary, initially. Reserved. Keeping my distance. Formal.... coz of all the mom issues. That gradually changed with extremely small interactions... she liked the way I arranged a bouquet of flowers for her 80th birthday party. She brushed hair out of my eyes one day and said my new hairdo was pretty - or stroked my ponytail when I had it long and down my back. She picked strings & lint off my clothes and straightened pieces that came askew as we got ready for parties, weddings, or travelling together. When my dad died and I returned to the beach to rejoin my vacation I vowed to polish off the open bottle of champagne that we'd planned to finish on vacation on the last night. When I tried to dish up ice cream and couldn't - and didn't ask for help - she came out and took the scoop out of my hands and did it for me without a word about the champagne. I ended up pouring the rest out.

She was not the kind of mother I had. Just about opposite, really. And I never really told her my "story". Just bits and pieces... and most of them current. The whole birthday thing that happened 2 days before her stroke meant that we both understood about my mom; what I've been recovering from all these 40 years and I had the chance to tell her what a great mom she was, too. In that short few minutes I found the "archetypal mother" - caring for and being cared for. I told her we were "even".

So the whole idea of self-abuse patterns; the "split" between me and Twiggy; smoking - and the overwhelming need behind it - is POOF! Just like that. How silly to think that a habit was necessary for identity!

She had to accept the changes her body was forcing on her; "nothing to do about it" was how she looked at it. And changes are a good thing, in the long run. She gave up the home she lived in for 50 years, to accept the changes in need for care she was faced with and remained the most positive person of all of us, throughout. And it was a "cure" for me, of sorts. An understanding that through caring, love and giving... we also gain the same. Maybe not with my mom or brother - but with so many other people in the world who "get this" - why worry myself over those two? Trying to prove them wrong? Or vindicate myself?

Too many more other things to do. Too many more "present moments" to be part of.
Success is never final, failure is never fatal.

Gaining Strength

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #56 on: November 18, 2010, 01:19:04 PM »
Just now learning about your MIL.  As is so often the case when I read your posts, I am imprisoned between having so much to say and feeling powerless to say what is in my heart, to say anything meaningful.

As I read the last two pages of posts on this thread what I did think was that I heard how lucky you felt to have her.  That must make the mourning more difficult but it also plays a role in the healing to come and not just healing of grieving her loss, but HEALING.

I am thinking of you PR.  As bare as this post is - it is heart deep in care and concern and giving. - your friend even though we have neverr met, your real friend - GS

Hopalong

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #57 on: November 18, 2010, 09:38:57 PM »
Magnificently moving.

PR, I'm going to remove that "Place for PR" thread as you're feeling good about the MIL material fitting just right here. Awkward idea anyway.

I don't know how a person could produce more insight...but even or especially with this event in your life, you amaze me with how deep yours are and how MANY you have.

It's as though for you grief and growth are literally simultaneous...and you articulate it. Don't know if you realize how powerful an example and inspiration you are.

I am a grateful listener and friend.

love,
Hops

"That'll do, pig, that'll do."

sKePTiKal

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #58 on: November 19, 2010, 09:43:50 AM »
I just so appreciate having you all feedback what I myself can't see - coz I'm on the inside looking out. And the most fabulous thing about the board... is watching how everyone is learning about, entering into, and becoming black belt masters of emotions. I guess that does include me. I love every one of youse guys, even if we have had disagreements!

Today's little gem for me, is that what I feel re: MIL is simple, pure sadness that she's gone. It's not mixed up with pain; not like the grief processed from the past, which is blenderized up with a bunch of other intense emotions. Instead, it's sadness mixed with echoes of love; those little things that passed between us... the things that made MIL her SELF... the things that mattered to her.

I still don't feel as if I have a valid "claim" to MIL - that her children come first. But I have been clear, that what passed between her and I is extremely special and that I'm now the caretaker of that. We never made a contract or agreement in so many words, but I was able to convey to her that I accepted the role of mothering her and being there for her - no matter what - as she made this particular passage in her life. So when she gave me the birthday card, with her message, I almost bawled right then & there; the simple message wiped out, erased, negated - made as if it had never happened - all the stuff that I've struggled with here, in therapy, and in all those journals.

What I'm caretaking for her, is the part of Twiggy that was broken & shattered - and that I couldn't reach into past all the wounds. The little girl who was such a good mommy to her dolls... and who stepped up to try to take care of brother... and then mother... when it became obvious that there was no one else. The part that needed a mommy, desperately - and kept losing them. All MIL did was say "Thank You".

Before Mike & I left the hospital that last night (I was about to go face down on the floor, I was so tired) I told all the kids: she's in charge again, now. All we can do now is take care of ourselves and each other. [I don't know where that stuff comes from; maybe Twiggy? It's almost as if it's a different voice; as if I'm channelling something... like a medium.] And that is what is happening now.

Mike is taking over some of the ways his mom reached out to and cared about others; his brother describes his state as "surreal" - a state I can relate to from past experiences - but he is also organizing materials and info for the tributes still to be arranged - and D is doing something I call - sticking pins in your eye. It's a way to desensitize oneself emotionally, by deliberately invoking pain - OH GEE; just realized that's exactly the motivation behind all the various forms of self-abuse. I'll have to come back to that.

I've always thought that the tradition of sitting shiva or irish wakes needed to be mainstreamed, as a way to process grief and let it go. Protestant christianity seems to kick everyone out of the circle of compassion just at the moment that the reality of death is really setting in. In this case, MIL left specific instructions according to what she lived: no fuss, don't worry about me, don't make a big deal out of this. There will be no funeral; she's chosen to be cremated and she'll join her beloved husband at his gravesite. However!

She touched so many lives - in both small and huge ways - in two states, no less - that there will be two celebration of life services. And those won't take place for a few weeks yet. Which I think is a good thing for the family, even though D wants to "get this over with, and get to closure". It doesn't always work that way, as I know for a fact; so I'm going to call her today and see how she's doing and kind of talk her through some things. It's sorta my job now... and MIL will remind me, if I don't!  :D

... sticking pins in your eye. It's a way to desensitize oneself emotionally, by deliberately invoking pain ...

So, I guess whether it's eating unconsciously, smoking, cutting, or deliberately invoking grief and sadness... all of these things are ways to get a strong emotion outside of oneself - to "not feel" it. For whatever reason. In my case, feeling the grief of all my losses to self, was intensely overpowering and affected my ability to function. At least, if I took them all at one time! Worse - while I knew I needed to do this - I was specifically punished for it; and the message was: your feelings are hurting me - so stop it. So I learned to hide my feelings; withdraw completely from everyone to "feel" - and to actively protect other people from my feelings. In other words, to be ashamed and humiliated of being an emotional soul. And then I never learned how to express emotions "appropriately"... whatever the fashions, traditions, etc of the day were.

Ah! but on the other side of a cigarette... with the smoke swirling up between me and the rest of world... I could feel my feelings, without "giving away" what they were. Hiding in plain sight. At least, that's what I believed! LOL!!! In reality, my feelings are wide open vulnerable, in that I express them facially and with every bit of my body - easy to read - and especially! with my gestures while smoking.
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lighter

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Re: Deconstructing Self-Abuse Patterns
« Reply #59 on: November 19, 2010, 10:02:41 AM »
(((PR)))  You're thoughts, and journey, are so interesting/insightful: )

Hops.... when you said PR will roll around in the surf, but survive, that seemed so right.

I have the feeling we're completely underwater, emotionally stuck and not breathing..... struggling, at times.
So darned painful.
Other times we're rolling around in the surf, getting scraped up.

Then there are times we get to walk along the shore, soaking up the sun, thinking about what we want to do.  Swim?  Surf?  Keep walking?  Brave the surf?

Still, other times we're gliding across the water, sluicing over the waves, moving fast, and sometimes we surf!

So exciting, full of exhilaration and it always lasts such a short time.....

then it seems we're usually back rolling in the surf,  trying to surface, getting our legs back under us.... climbing onto the beach and......

 looking for our boards again.

Right now, I think your getting your legs under you PR....

and heading to the beach.

Lighter