Voicelessness or ???

[sKePTiKal]

Long story short - I gave up; stopped; maybe even forgot how - to "invite" people into my "world". I let myself be convinced that no one wanted to - or could - share that. I have a hard time believing - accepting - that people do LIKE me. It still scares the crap out of me.... unless they've been through something like what we share here. That was why my MIL was a such a miracle, for me. She'd never experienced anything like this; the bits I told her were like her soap-opera stories to her - something that she couldn't really understand about why people "are like that". Something not "real". I wish!

At the moment - and I don't know if this state is related to it or not - I'm having a real struggle with "saying things" without feeling like I'm in danger of invoking the N-monster response or like I'm being too blunt, tactless, direct, too personal... there is always a critic sitting on my shoulder; the political correctness cop - or the fear that "I shouldn't say that" because I'm not allowed to. And this isn't the productive kind of "self-consciousness"... so I'll take that discussion somewhere else.

Here's the "somewhere else".

I'm in the midst of what feels like a communication meltdown - that I can't "say" what I really mean... or am allowed to say it... because it will cause someone else to feel offended, or it will seem presumptuous, or whatever. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells again - unable to detect where the "landmines" are. So I'm not even certain what it is I WANT to say.

I feel awkward socially; like what I'm interested in is irrelevant to others. Like I don't really have any right to talk about certain things... like my opinion is "so far out there", I should be embarrassed and keep my mouth shut so that people won't know "the real me". As if what I say is automatically "wrong". Like I'm some moron, or misfit, or not "fit for human consumption". Like I don't deserve to take up space - even here, some days.

Hubby's been giving me a lot of feedback, on how I communicate with his sibs regarding the process of sorting, distributing and clearing their mom's things. I think I'm being sensitive to people's grieving processes - and how much they can handle at one time. Maybe even too sensitive - so that I'm starting to feel antsy about getting the process started, of reclaiming that space as part of my house. It's hard for me to tell if hubs' comments are his way of expressing his limits - or if he knows something about his brother & sister that I'm missing. They haven't given me that kind of feedback.

He and I are having a hard time with 24/7 togetherness, already... I don't know if this is all related or not yet. Just felt like it didn't belong on Lighter's thread... and it's sitting on my head right now like some hairy blob. Guess I'll go see if I can get out from under it enough to see what it really is... and come back later.

[lighter]

Amber:  What you've brought up is certainly familiar to me.  You could have left it on my rambling thread, no worries.

Come back and tell us what you've discerned for yourself, so we can discern it too; )

Light

[sKePTiKal]

How sensitive are you to your own needs about dealing with the thnigs mentioned? Your feelings have equal weight and importance.

Can you clarify your question? I'm not sure what you're asking me. My feelings about what? Needs about what? I feel like I missed part of a conversation... and I read what you wrote twice, Guest! I reread my post too. I'm not trying to be difficult; I just am missing part of a sentence... noun, verb, object... this is actually one part of what I'm trying to describe: sometimes I feel like I'm not even speaking the same language as others, right now. There are multiple circumstances; if I didn't know better - I'd say I was having flashbacks of being gaslighted.

I got out & planted some daffodils... my body feels better anyway, even if I am having a hard time getting warm again! C'mon spring...

[sKePTiKal]

You make a lot of sense, Guest - and I needed to hear those questions right now.

I've tried to answer, babbling away in my own free-association style, making connections with past - present, for the last 2 hours. None of it is coherent enough to post without upping the level of confusion - until it synthesizes, settles, and can be said without all the unnecessary "words" that are the syntax of all those connections (a computer coding reference again) or retelling a lot of parts of "my story".

The one thing I'm sure of - is that all this comes back to the "RULES" of protecting the sick person at the center of the dysfunctional FOO. And how we internalize all that into the nasty little voice that materializes on our shoulder (like bird-poop, no doubt) and whispers all kinds of nefarious - and untrue - stuff into our ears. Those rules, are the stuff that Lighter's "collusion" are made of. The voice is the long afterward "hangover" of being subjected - or willing to be subjected - to those rules and walking between the two worlds of normal folk and the delusional, paranoid beings that walk the earth.

I learned to worry more about protecting other people's feelings; worrying about their needs - more than mine. I have a tendency to be blind to those boundaries - because of empathy, wanting to be "needed" - therefore important and useful - because it was the best I could; all I could hope for in my FOO. It all really did come down to me in my FOO, Guest - if it was going to get done or happen - no one else was going to do it, except me. That's being repeated in my relationship with Hubs, in multiple ways.... and I've pointed it out to him, to minimal effect. It's a sore point - a trigger button of some kind - for him. I don't know what it relates to in his past. Or what feelings he has attached to it.

Some of it is me still trying to help MIL - the sibs have the same procrastination issues as hubs and they are quite busy with their own families - and I keep hearing her ask, when is this going to happen? When will they have time to do X? She would've done it all herself if she was able... but she knew she wasn't able. So I would help... to be fair, hubs did too. I have to step back for a bit and look at this again, in a wider angle lens.

Some of the fog is lifting and this is starting to make sense to me. The connection between the anxiety and self-consciousness, boundaries, RULES, etc. But too much is being processed in my brain too fast (too much coffee isn't helping that) right now to spit it out at the moment. Not everything that I'm processing is relevant to the topic, either. That's just side illuminations, like call-outs in a magazine or a sidebar.

[Hopalong]

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

I get a feeling of you as just feeling overwhelmed with responsibility. Just as you describe as it was in your FOO.

Maybe you feel a truly massive amount of management or executive burden -- like being the captain of a coast guard vessel in a storm.

Maybe after what you've been through it's as though you are sailing through The Perfect Storm and don't realize that you are seeing more danger than there actually is. Or that -- really, the storm ended a couple days ago but you're white-knuckled at the bridge.

Perhaps you have an acute sense of massive responsibility and if you're not vigilant to doing everything right, or seeing to it that everyone else grasps priorities in the same fashion by explaining it... everyone will drown?

That may be tone-deaf of me but it's what I'm imagining. It sounds hard and draining (but you'd have to unloose your grip on the wheel to realize how tense you are).

(In a minor way I'm going through something a little like this here at work -- a coworker does not "get it", ignores the details I need while swamping me with distractions/explanations I DON'T need ... and it pushes all my being-controlled buttons and I way way over-react. Her "help" feels like obstruction rather than...help.)

xxoo breathing and peace and ease to you, and love,

Hops

[river]

Phoenix, I certainly relate to this, the whole lot of it!   Is the quote bit your quote? 
Actaully I was thinking of a thread, 'when do you come here'?  which Ill do. 

My own understanding  (via m own experience) in relation to this  is ~~~~
You found something so precious, healthy people/ family, and MIL.  but theres a danger of losing it, if you say or do something like offend them.  Any N is appropriating, they'll take/ spoil anything of value that is yours, so we arrive with that experience of everything good is about to be destroyed.  Worse, that it will be demolished by something we do.  And as you have been in flight/ rebellion from something that is 'ultra bad' ~ not to put too finer point on it, then to dissociate yourself from that, you need to be ultra good, and certainly not to offend/ get on the wrong side of those who are generally on the side of good.
 Because we have spent so much of our existence in hand to hand combat with the forces of destruction (the battle ground of our souls), we havent been in the positoin, or had the luxury of buliding and living ourselves as 'well, bit imperfect, can be irritating, some blunders, rough at the edges, etc etc, we havent been able to see ourselves as imperfect in our own or others' eyes, because that means we may be associated with them'/ those forces/ people of destruction.  And those forces are about annihilation of the 'self' of the person, and thats where we get caught in that paradigm, and feel voiceless.  Triggered into the paradigm of what we were at the recieving end of, by implication at least.   ('if you dont comply, you dont exist').   

Thats how I've come to understand this type of thing.  I have fallen down a black hole of shame at some totally tiny things at times.  And also, so many people who cant relate to these struggles, I cant relate to those people,not really beyond a sort of polite friendlyh attempt.   I mean, how can you be at a T party at the same time as in the trenches?   
Dunno if this makes any sense, ...

[Guest]

makes lots of sense to me River.

[sKePTiKal]

You guys are GOOD, ya know? You're picking up on things I'm not even at the point of getting around to yet... (or am avoiding).
You're all "right" in your observations... but I'm gonna have to come back to them.

The connection between the communication issue - the feelings of being insignificant, out of place, "not allowed" to express myself; or my feelings - the connection between that and the RULES, is where I'm going. It's been another splinter festering, for a while.

Hubs likes to intervene in my conversations with others, sometimes. A friend of his was here and she & I connected on the topic of bioNic moms. Well, you all know how intense the emotions can get sometimes telling bits of our stories. He literally, will tell me "that's enough"... and try to stop the direction of the conversation, as if two adult women aren't able to share these kinds of "war stories" without all hell breaking loose. In other words: he is uncomfortable with the reality of what I've been through and the remaining intensity of my feelings about it.... and so, I'm "not allowed" to be who I am and make those connections with others who understand... because of how he feels.

It doesn't even have to be that kind of topic... it's like I'm socializing with my own personal "hall monitor" looking over my shoulder approving/disaproving my conversation. And it even spills over into how I do things... we had a huge, albeit brief argument at Christmas, because he wanted to tell me how I should be searing a roast - even though I was just fine with it and didn't ask him for any help; I did however ask him to do something else which he totally ignored - so he wound up getting the full force of old nuclear waste rage & anger. I have asked him - and warned him - to not volunteer to me "how to do something" because of the way bioNicMom used to harangue me about doing everything HER way - more RULES, you know? I was never able to follow those rules, either... because they weren't consistent. Never knew when I'd step on a landmine - get blown up; become a target for her - because the rules always shifted. (hard to grasp - along with her B&W way of seeing the world, you know?)

But, it's not just Hubs; I do this all by myself. I'll start critiqueing my own conversations with people and then out come the old tapes... "well, that was stupid... why did you say that? what are you trying to do, get them to like you? why are you asking them so many questions? don't talk about yourself! Don't talk about them! who do you think you are? Don't you know the RULES about how to act???"  I do know I can just kick the little evil imp to the next county, but when hubs' is also "giving me that look", I second guess myself - even if no one else is signaling any discomfort or disinterest.

Well, since I wasn't allowed to talk if other people were around, we didn't go places or socialize... where did my bioNicMom think I was going to learn this??? And when I did learn it - at school, with friends and their parents - my behavior and how I interacted with others was still subject to approval/disapproval based on her RULES. She would sarcastically and wistfully tell me she needed to send me to "finishing school"... so that I could learn appropriate behavior. This - in the era of "let it all hang out". (that word: appropriate - in this context - is socially unacceptable to me, by the way; it's flat out demeaning to a child - and I've had it applied to me more than once as an adult ONLY because I expressed my emotions. It's not like I stood naked screaming F you in the middle of the room, either.) And anyway - wasn't that her job? Oh that's right - she didn't know how to do this either... so she just blamed other people for being stuck up; fakes; or out to take advantage of her...

So guess what happened when I learned some manners. Learned how to interact with others and started making friends? Then, the RULES changed... and now, I was putting on airs... being a little "princess" (which REALLY confused me, 'coz I've never been very girly) and oh yes - then, I was blamed for trying to make her feel bad.

SIGH. Water over the damn yes - but there's still flood damage. I don't have the "nasty little voice" criticizing every little move or word, when I'm functioning in a business capacity. With that hat on - I know where the boundaries are, I guess. And it's just occurred to me, that I've been able to establish some pretty friendly, more than business relationships that way, too. As if the role I'm in offers me a script, too. Automatic, known boundaries; where the rules don't change. Social situations, not so much.

Or maybe RULES is synonymous with boundaries, here? That's how confused I am about what I'm really trying to describe. Probably making it more complex than it is - but it sure feels that complex to me. I don't want to make hubs feel uncomfortable - but on the other hand - I really don't need him trying to edit me on the fly, either. He does things that make me uncomfortable too - but I don't call him on it, especially publically.... unless it's starting to turn into a "pick on Amber" fest. Then I do defend myself - and can do so, without going all nuclear, too. He really doesn't like that, but don't let him squirm out of having "started it" and ignoring my warning shots.

Some of this might be due to hubs' insecurities, too. The change we've been through - financially - puts us in social contact with the level of folk we used to work for. I keep saying - they're just people - but hubs tends to see them as their titles; as the power & money the title implies. He sees them as "those people". I keep reminding him... we're "those people" too, now. It's not like the Beverly Hillbillies, either - though that's one of his favorite self-deprecating analogies. The problem with even making a distinction of "those people" is that we're back to rules about how those people talk, act, are. Well................... bullshit.

"Those people" have trouble with their teenagers, have survived abusive relationships, have family issues.... or struggles in life.... or insecurities.... too. Because they're just people. Just like he & I. "Those people" have emotions, too. Emotions themselves aren't something to be ashamed of, are they? It leaves me sitting there people watching, observing (yes, guest I've done a lot of this too) wondering why it's OK for all those I'm watching to be themselves, express themselves emotionally... yet hubs' feels that this isn't "proper" or god-forbid "appropriate"... and so he feels he has to police me, as well as himself?? Doesn't he know I already have my own little evil cop passing judgement on every little thing??

OK. I'll try this again later or tomorrow. We've got another social thing tonight. I'm going to be paying very close attention, too.

[lighter]

Amber:  Sounds like it's time to help your h understand the lilttle policeman in his own head...... then tell him about yours.

I know those little policemen in my sister's head, and my head, are more vigilant and critical when we're all together in a social situation.

My policeman watches her, and her's watches me..... I can just feel the anxiety building.... it's worse than when we're apart.

My sister and I might not be able to have a conversation about this, but maybe you and your darling husband could?

Wouldn't it be nice to shut those cops up, eventually, once and for all?

Let us know how the evening went.

Lighter

[sKePTiKal]

Things went just fine - we both had some fun. We had to cut things a bit short and run off, since our weekend guests - hubs' daughter & family - decided to arrive early. We had a late night last night... so I'll come back & fill in, later. I think I've got things a bit skewed - even in my explanation.

Hubs and I are still adjusting to our new "status"... so maybe some of this anxiety is "normal", under the circumstances. If we weren't a little in awe... feeling a bit "underdressed" or unsure of ourselves... maybe we'd have a whole more serious stuff to worry about!!

[sKePTiKal]

So..... what I think all this was about, is the residual toxicity of the radioactive waste of toxic shame. And how that was actually involved in a doublebind, for me. The old, not accepted "the way I am" feeling, being targeted in the FOO... twisting myself all up to at least find a "useful" place there... and therefore, being "different" from other people, when away from those idiotic RULES... and therefore again - having the basic anxiety of worrying about what the RULES are, in places where the kind of abuse I had to accept as "normal", do not exist.

It's lazy thinking to not question whether there are those kinds of RULES, outside of a situation or system designed to protect a sick one at the center. And I wasn't even making the connection to shame - when it was right in front of my face. OK. Moving on....

A LOT of the things that got stuck in my head and my feelings about interacting with other people - because they came from the FOO RULES - is wrong. I thought I'd addressed all these already, but clearly not. One of the big ones, was BioNic Mom's insistence that "we weren't like all those other people". With the subtext that of course, we were better and that "THEY" were bad (in all cases, at all times - B&W thinking - because THEY would think x, y, z about us (projection of judging & envy &...) and try to take advantage of us (paranoia). In reality - in normal situations - those "RULES" don't exist; they don't need to because everyone's using their boundaries... and those are flexible; adaptable; and they change - people go in/out of boundaries.

I'm seeing "control" come up in a couple different threads; the different ways abusers try to control others... the ways we feel we've been controlled... the radioactive waste of control. Trying to control others; a need to control others - in order to feel OK about oneself - is one of the things I'd like to see as a criteria in the DSM - for the disorders connected to abuse of others.

There is a flavor of that controlling, that gets mirrored into people who've been the subjects of that kind of control (I really don't like the word victim here). We learn that controlling others is "OK" - "normal" - because that's what we experience in those situations. And sometimes, survival depends on learning how to control that sick person at the center, too. We're not comfortable when the RULES of that control aren't well-known. Placate, negotiate, distract, bend over backwards... go above & beyond the call of duty... only to have the modicum of solace we need, to be able to carry on. That kind of metamorphosis of the SELF is predicated on knowing what the RULES are... or being able to discern the RULES, quickly - on the fly - as the RULES change or the situation changes.

So, I've invented my little imp on my shoulder whispering all kinds of nasties about me - to me - to embody the concept of the internalization of that sick-o world.... and I forget, damn it - that I'm not helpless to flick the little bastard off my shoulder. When I forget, then I'm back to where I used to be with the anxiety again. It is very helpful that I've learned to look for reality-based feedback from other people to counter that kind of crap... and I'm thankful you all chimed in with your observant questions and ideas, too!

Because boating is a popular recreational thing here, the neighborhood social club is called the Yacht Club. We were encouraged to join - owning a boat isn't necessary - as a way to meet people, so we did. Of course, it conjured up all kinds things in our imagination about what it was... what the people were like. Everything from Gilligan's Island to people dressed to the nines, sipping champagne, and talking about their brokerage accounts???? In a way, we were pre-judging these people in our minds... applying the same of "rules" about people that I worry about people applying to me. SIGH.... Well, it turns out that really it's just a group of neighbors who like to socialize together and they are all different kinds of people. I allowed myself (duh) to people-watch at most of the events through the year... sitting on the fringe... never approaching anyone.

The very first event, a woman - J - came and introduced herself, was quite friendly... and we talked for a while. I found myself liking her a lot. I didn't have - or make - an opportunity to talk to her again, until our other social event (unrelated to the club) this week. So I just walked up and said hi... she's this year's hospitality committee chairperson and I'd been called to help her out in the midst of MIL's medical crises... so I didn't commit at the time and was letting all this anxiety build up about what that committment might entail. The yacht club events aren't elaborate things - buffet-style picnic food, byob, some music and just people hanging out talking to each other. With my past - I've never entertained much and last summer's constant stream of family visitors was a serious challenge for me - for exactly the same reason as this other anxiety - more on that below. So, I told J that I'd been contacted to help her out (she didn't recognize me from the yacht club)... and warned her that I didn't have a lot of experience hostessing. She said she didn't either and that people are "in for it", since they've gotten so used to the past chairperson's success. I laughed and said we'd try to avoid having a kegger... and she laughed... et voila - no anxiety!

Over the last summer, my anxiety waxed & waned with the various groups of people who came to visit. Different circumstances, and in my own head - my own "assessment" (a nicer word for judgement, eh??) of what each group's expectations of me would be. And I became a tyrant to myself about people that I didn't know as well... people who I felt might have higher expectations of my "hostess skills" than I had in reality. Back then, I was hypersensitive to boundaries and navigating those with these folks - (remember - they're all family; his - mine - and a friend of mine from where I used to work that I'm still close to). So I noticed something over the course of the summer about control... and how I was driving myself to meet some expectation that I THOUGHT people would have of me, as my guests. Like I was trying to control whether or not everyone was happy, enjoying themselves, had food they liked, activities they liked - etc.

LOL!!!!! How nuts is that? How impossible is that? I puzzled over the let-down feeling I had as people made plans to entertain themselves... and were able to manage all kinds of things "all by themselves" and didn't need to be waited on hand & foot. Well, of course, I felt like I'd "failed".... I didn't come up to the expectations of the "rules"... I failed to "control" for all the variables... and so I'd try to drive myself even harder.

All this stuff just rumbled around right below the surface of conscious thought... radioactive waste... fueling those anxious feelings... making me feel like I'm from another planet... speaking a completely different language... getting all twisted up trying to be something I've conjured up as "perfect"... so that I'll be "liked", accepted, part of the group - and not seen as some weirdo from a dysfunctional family pretending to be a "normal" person.

And this happens outside of my attention, most especially, during those times I'm being a total home-body, hermit, closing in the wagons - like hubs & I have been doing since MIL died. Duh. Time to flick the little imp back to hell - and off my shoulder for good!
So yeah... all my old over-responsibility pops up again... and I worry about trampling boundaries (coz of the need to control/fix everyone and everything)...and in the process sell-out my own needs... and hubby looks like he might into a category better reserved for one of my FOO... and the next thing I know... I'm practically inventing problems for myself - beseiged yet again - because I just didn't carve out enough time for me, or sign up for that exercise class, or made a new friend I can go out & have coffee with... just for a change from hubby.

Thanks everyone. I'm "over this" now. I hope I don't forget again!!

[Hopalong]

A cousin of mine had a mania for being a supra-adequate woman/hostess/daughter/mother/volunteer/homemaker. (I don't know anybody who's truly untouched by all that programming, even without an abusive childhood. Even non-Nsurvivor-people, not exclusively but particularly women, in this culture, have times of pure terror and/or mania about doing domestic, social, and relational things "right"). Makes me sad but I can get swept up in it too sometimes.

Anyway, her kids had given her a shirt that had in elegant print on the front: "Martha Stewart does not live here".

It's really nice to think of you gladly discovering the humanity of the beings around you, Amber...I can relate so much to all sorts of "Us" and "Them" scripts. Part from NMom, part from Southern Woman training, part from being American, on and on. Ugggh.

My first bf's family was ultra wealthy. They introduced me to a nice man named Joe Hellman who lived next door to their winter home in Rye, NY. I went, hello, Mr. Hellman. Wasn't until 2 days later I figured out it was Hellman's Mayo Joe.

Anyway, I learned his family well and was part of it for several years. They were so not immune to tragedy, dysfunction, heartbreak, confusion and pain. By the time we broke up (amicably) -- I was inoculated from feeling lesser than. My class resentments can still get activated but only when people I'm close to (e.g., church) make blundrous assumptions about others' ability to do things that cost.

And who wouldn't have that fantasy about a "yacht" club? I bartended at one once. What was funny about the place is that the tongers and oystermen would park at the bar for their beers during the week, and on the weekends I'd wait on very Poncey People who motored in on their yachts. It would have been reflexive to like the workingmen better, and in many ways I did because their lives were more interesting and poetic, but it's also true many of them were deeply racist, so that was unattractive. But the swells who came in making a huge production of how they wanted their margaritas...feh.

I love shore culture. But the English class thing is evident there. I don't blame you for wondering.

(By the time they figure out a creative individualistic woman is among them, you'll see how happy many are to have an interesting friend like you, and a sweet new man around like Hubs...because you're who YOU are, not because you're a clone of who they are.)

And of course anybody not smart enough to see that would be kind of dull...

love,
Hops

[sKePTiKal]

Well, Hops - there's that little, subtle connection between my own judging of other people... and how I expect & worry I will be judged by others that's interesting. Of course I almost made myself sick about the debutante culture - but then, I remembered a series of hilarious books by a group of southern ladies - "The Sweet Potato Queens". You'd like these!

Guest: yes, it's way more fun to give up "control"... but there does need to be one responsible adult in a household... and guess who's it, in mine? The hubs pushes a whole lot of my old FOO script buttons about this... and I've explained... and he's listened - but he hasn't "heard". Nothing's changed... and really, in the greater scheme of things... I do feel like the things I bring up are relatively "minor", small issues... but even my specific requests for him to help out around the house get displaced in his attention... because he doesn't acknowledge that it's important to me. "Don't sweat the small stuff" he'll say. And then, what I care about is "small stuff" and that'll spiral into "I don't matter"...and, of course, I'm "bad" because instead of paying attention or spending time with him - I'm doing what he didn't do.

Yeah... I know what kind of game this is. And it's contributing to this feeling of communication issues - of speaking and no one "hears". I'm beginning to think I need to decide to do something different about it.

[Hopalong]

I dunno if they walked on eggshells, exactly. There is the walking entitlement of the rich. But despite their multiple homes (one with 500 acres) they didn't seem freed by their wealth. There was always worrying about the property and the stuff. When I socialized with them there was no lightness in the air. They seemed really burdened. Well dressed, well fed, well wheeled, well servanted. But not happy. Later they sent one of their kids to do a summer activity they knew I was on the staff for--asked me if I'd keep a special eye on him. He was in trouble. A few years after that when the bf and I had our annual lunch, I asked about the little bro, whom I'd been very fond of. He'd committed suicide. The parents broke up. My former bf had carved out some happiness by his third marriage but the whole family was driven by stuff, getting more, protecting what they had, fighting over dregs, maintaining their status. It felt empty, tragic and depressing.

I truly would like more money so I didn't have to work so hard I wear out. Or could give time to writing or doing things that help. But I would not like the "lifestyle". Cars, servants, being waited on eternally, moving around in a glossy bubble. Having to hire so many people just to keep the whole enterprise functioning. It feel prison-like. Fancy prison, but still.

For me, a bungalow, a small sunny yard, and retiring to write would be bliss. Even that, these days, seems nearly out of reach.

Rambling,
Hops

[Hopalong]

Guest, was I missing a simple joke about mayo?
Eggshells?