This thread touches me and moves me on so many levels. I am elated, jumping for joy in the connection I feel with several of the posts and posters in this thread, so profoundly thankful for the connection.
With an Nparent, its worse, as these are the people who should TRY their damnedest to understand and validate their own kids, but dont, see the kids as the cause of the problem (if someone was rude to me I must have deserved it) and discouraging your kids from asserting themself and calling that "troublemaking" is a lifelong handicap in work and relationships that I struggle with to this day. Nothing was ever resolved for me from talking with my Mother. I never had the support other kids did and its hurt me ."
This describes m experience. I have often written about my father's explicit and implicit evocation that I got what I deserved. If it was unkindness, or meanness or bullying, I deserved it. If it was sabotage or bullying, I deserved it. While part of me understood that I didn't deserve bad treatment, a deeper, unconscious part of me believed it wholly. Why would my father whom I loved say so if it were not true. It set up a subconscious belief that if I got myself straightened out then everything would fall into place. If things went wrong then I deserved it. That thinking set me up to be a kind of permanent victim, a powerless victim and worse yet, resentful because I saw that other people who were mistreated were actually sympathized with or empowered to overcome it. It sure has taken me a very long time to figure out how I internalized these things as a child. But late is much better than never.
Bones, when you write about your mother discouraging you from asserting yourself, I am reminded of Peter Levine's writing about the value in being empowered to overcome traumatic events. These N parents do exactly the opposite. In my case, and perhaps for some of you, I am finally seeing it as a power play. My parents, and more particularly, my father, manipulated me to feel powerless so that he could exert more power over me. I totally bought it. That's the learned helplessness. I was forever waiting for my fathers permission and support and encouragement and was befuddled that it never came, befuddled and crippled, unable until recently to understand that unwittingly I had given away my power to a man whom I (falsely) believed had my best interest at heart.
When I read your post Bones, I read real damage done by a mother who discourages from being assertive and who blames for what happens.
Silver lining - your words strike me as a truism of N parents.
With N's as parents, our problems are our problems, and also their problems are our problems. Is it any wonder life with them is so demoralizing?
it is too much to bear to hold all the problems. We are meant to live in community and to bear up one another - not to hold all the problems. It is just too much. The lack of concern for their progeny's difficulties is incomprehensible. The first time I was completely aware of it was when my husband died. I was a new mother, had lost my husband and our primary income and my parents were utterly unconcerned for me or my child. I was stunned but looking back, I suddenly realized that that had always been the case. I had been so blind until then. I was totally on my own and needing great help. It was too much.
Ales2 - the controller becomes abusive to keep us under their control. It's effective because as humans we long to connect to our parents. We are wired that way and society pushes it having no sympathy for ones born to parents who cannot love and encourage. Your words are so accurate and so painful. But we can heal from their wounds. Putting them out in the open is helpful, makes them more visible and clear. It's an "aha" for me. "that's what they were doing?" It was so abusive yet as a child I was totally oblivious. I had no idea that I wasn't loved. I just thought there was something terribly wrong with me and I hopelessly tried and tried to get better.
Ales2, thanks so much for this thread. It had been a God send to me, like a silver platter, offering up other's experiences that are similar to mine. It is such a gift to not be alone with these horrific experiences.
