Starting my journal

[Just Hatched]

  Hello holidayay

Gosh, it seems like a lot of the antidote for c-ptsd seems to be around receiving validation. Its like we are validation-deficient.

I think you might be right, we got so little of it from our parents and family, I think perhaps we didn't develop a sense of our own goodness or an ability to know how to discern  what is appropriate.

Thank you for sharing your journey and congratulations on your graduation and first successful shift.

[holidayay]

I'm being triggered so much right now and also overnight.

For some reason I keep thinking back to a girl in my primary school. Who had a lot of attitude and was quite mouthy. I remembered how it sometimes felt like the teachers were giving her a lot of attention to try to pacify her. I remember being jealous of the  extra care and attention she would get from them. I'd get so frustrated that here at school, too, it seemed like the louder and most aggressive your behaviour, the more attention you would receive.

I felt so deprived of love and care and was desperate to get it from anywhere. Seeing her get that attention as reactions to her playing up made me feel so angry. This is exactly what all my siblings did at home. I didn't understand it. If I dared to make myself less invisible, I'd be shamed for it. I'd be yelled at and humiliated and berated for having feelings. I'd be told I was 'showing off' and 'spoilt' and a drama queen, and very quickly, I would shut down and feel stupid and ridiculous for daring to 'expose' my needs and break out of the status quo. But when my other siblings did it - attention given to them would persist. And now this girl at school was doing it and the same thing was happening! My child brain just didn't understand what it was I needed to do - to BE - to get the nurturing, love and attention I desperately craved.

There was a residential trip to an adventure place that year. I desperately wanted to go. I loved adventure.
I remember my mum acting as though it was ludicrous to even think I could bother to ask. Forget a child having wants and preferences in my house. The very idea was absolutely ridiculous and laughable to her. I meekly dared to bring up the idea of my going to the trip and it was shut down very quickly. She raged and yelled at me that residential trips where you stay over are for 'sinful' people with no shame and no morals to want to stay over somewhere that isn't home. I froze up and immediately felt so much self-loathing for daring to think bringing it up was a good idea. It felt like it was my fault for not being able to get it right - how did I just not get that my needs and wants just DIDN'T matter?
The school tried to do a nice thing of allowing the kids who weren't given permission to stay over for the trip a chance to go for the last day, where they would go and come back the same day that the trip would end.
Although I was able to go, it felt depressing and humiliating to be one of the kids who just rocked up at the end. It felt like we were the unwanteds, the ones who didn't deserve to have what the other kids have. And the last day of the trip had such lame activities, compared to the other day. We were told to bring a change of clothes in case we got wet/dirty. They hadn't planned in advance what activities would take place which day.
I knew there was abseiling and river activities. I was really excited about trying one of those more 'out there' ones. Instead, when we rocked up on the last day, there was......lots of walking and a game akin to tag.

The girl who received more attention from teachers by being rude and aggressive came over to me and told me all they'd been up to.
I was so envious and angry at my mum and my life and myself. This girl talked about doing those things so casually, like it was no big deal.
To me, it was made to feel like madness to even THINK I could join in. Yet she was being so casual about all the fun she'd had.

There was absolutely no point even mentioning this to my mum when I got home. By now I was well aware how she'd react. She would rage at me, call me all kinds of names for wanting to have fun, and then shame me for it and being selfish, before bringing the conversation around to herself and her life and problems, a conversation which never seemed to end.

It was easier to stuff down my wants, needs, frustration, loneliness, shame, anger, embarrassment and cravings for love and care to myself and live in fantasies, where I would dream up better living conditions, scenarios where I would receive love and care.

[holidayay]

Hello holidayay

Gosh, it seems like a lot of the antidote for c-ptsd seems to be around receiving validation. Its like we are validation-deficient.

I think you might be right, we got so little of it from our parents and family, I think perhaps we didn't develop a sense of our own goodness or an ability to know how to discern  what is appropriate.

Thank you for sharing your journey and congratulations on your graduation and first successful shift.

Hi justhatched and thank you 
I would agree, I think this missing link can be the root cause of so many of the symptoms we experience.

[Three Roses]

I just read a quote of Bessel van der Kolk's the other day, "Communicating fully is the opposite of being traumatized."

From https://www.mindingtherapy.com/healing-of-trauma-van-der-kolk/ - shine other really good quotes there.

[holidayay]

I just read a quote of Bessel van der Kolk's the other day, "Communicating fully is the opposite of being traumatized."

From https://www.mindingtherapy.com/healing-of-trauma-van-der-kolk/ - shine other really good quotes there.

I love this. Its just the perfect summary, right there.

Its so amazing to come on here and find people who just get things as I do in my head, still not used to this idea.

[Not Alone]

Holidayay, I am up-to-date on reading your journal.  Thank you for sharing your story.

[holidayay]

Holidayay, I am up-to-date on reading your journal.  Thank you for sharing your story.

Thanks for reading 

[holidayay]

I'm so tired. I have 3 days off now, thankfully, but its strange - in work, I am in a certain head space, which slowly dissolves away when I get home and the flashbacks return. Then I am back in that frightened, confused, helpless child head space again.

Did anyone feel...resentful the more time is spent around non-abusers, and it becomes a stark contrast to how we used to be treated?
I feel really resentful over all the great childhood things I missed out on because of my overbearing mother who was obsessed with controlling every facet of our lives.
We weren't allowed to have friends, we weren't allowed out of the house other than for school/grocery shopping, and definitely not allowed to have fun, as 'laughter is bad for you' (weird, as everywhere else, laughter is considered the best medicine). I don't have any childhood friends as a result. It really angers me that I missed out on this; what seems like a great bond, and a huge source of comfort, safety and stability all to satisfy one narcissist's abusive ways and thirst for control and need to spread misery.

We definitely weren't allowed to have boyfriends. This of course contributed to a delayed development in terms of how to relate to the opposite sex. There was such a weird, intense spotlight on other people's intimate lives, and that included ours. The boys in the family had more leeway, though.
I remember my oldest sister was always in conflict with my mum, and wanting to one-up her'. Tired of my mum's tirades about how having a boyfriend was a sin and what only girls who did certain professions would have - my sister was alerted when whispers started that my brother had found himself a girlfriend.
So one day, she took it upon herself to drive us, including my mum, to an area where she knew my brother hung out. There, we saw hi holding hands with a girl. My sister was overjoyed: she exclaimed 'EXPOSED!' and smirked at my mum, waiting to hear what she would say, as here it was, proof in front of our very ways. There was no way my mum could gaslight us or twist this.
I felt so scared, wondering what was going to happen. Experience had taught me that my mum hated losing control and power over a situation. I always felt panicky and sick when situations like this arose, as it meant even more uncertainty as to how she would react, and I felt helpless.

More than that, I felt so confused. I'd been led to believe so strongly that not having a relationship meant keeping your virtue. Why was my brother having a girlfriend when at home, he parroted a lot of what my mother said? I'd had my own crushes and always felt it was too outrageous to even dare to think I could explore those feelings...yet here he was!

I looked at my mum and she just went silent. The arrogance in not even needing to protest, or at least make up a pathetic excuse, made me feel so angry and confused.
My sister was just happy to have 'got one up' on my mother. She was grinning the whole way home.

I'm so frustrated that my childhood memories are like this one: weird, filled with confusion, helplessness and misery.

Sometimes when I start having fun and relaxing now, I get confused because I don't know what is supposed to come next. Then I get on high-alert. I only know the place of panic, despair and helplessness, where I am fighting to escape and make sense of things.

The awareness that this is because my childhood conditioned me into this makes me feel so incredibly angry and resentful. My mum's obsessions with infiltrating our lives with her dominance and warped views is such a weird, useless endeavour that despite all the hardship I experienced in trying to navigate around it, had no real beneficial or useful end result. All that trauma and energy spent seems like such a waste. I have a lot of anger towards her and feel so tempted to be able to fight back, tell her exactly what I think of her, and bring her down more than a few notches. I want to relive all those moments where she exerted her power and abuse over us, and do them differently - react to them as I would my adult self and throw the trauma and shame, guilt, confusion and helplessness back to the source from where it came: HER. It was hers to carry - she was the one who delivered it - how dare she pass it on to children.

And I am angry at my older siblings for not being saviours, for not recognising what I am recognising now - they were adults way sooner than I was - and making an effort to save me from all this mess. I am angry they were unaware and not intelligent and not interested in doing the right thing.
I am angry there wasn't one single adult in my life who bothered to take a stand against all of the abuse, control and trauma and be willing to stand up against the wrongdoing.

[Three Roses]

I am angry there wasn't one single adult in my life who bothered to take a stand against all of the abuse, control and trauma and be willing to stand up against the wrongdoing.

This might sound weird to you but I wish I could get in touch with the anger I know I have. Pete Walker says that "angering" is essential for true healing to occur. This is from his website, http://pete-walker.com -

... we can assign and direct our anger into a self-protective protest about the unfair past, and our tears into self-compassionate crying for the plight of the child we were. Finally, it cannot be stressed enough that it takes a great deal of practicing both of these responses to heal the developmental arrest of being blocked from our all important instincts of self-protection and self-compassion.

Hugs to you, holidayay. 

[Not Alone]

As uncomfortable as it may be, I think it is healthy and good that you are able to feel your anger and frustration and then to verbalize it.

[holidayay]

As uncomfortable as it may be, I think it is healthy and good that you are able to feel your anger and frustration and then to verbalize it.

Really?
I don't know what to DO with it. And when it comes up, I start panicking...how long will this last? What will happen to me if this continues?

Is it because maybe I am not used to allowing it to be there without it getting shut down with seconds that no precedent has been set in my mind that actually....anger can come and then dissipate?   

[holidayay]

Its the end of my 3 day break, and I'm back to work tomorrow.

It hasn't been a nice day today. And now I can't sleep. My mind won't stop. It's like I released a dam holding back all my accumulated feelings/thoughts from over the years that were brushed aside/denied/dismissed/ridiculed, which are now all competing and fighting to get my attention all at the same time.

I can't stop thinking about how sorry I feel for my family of origin where all the trauma originates.
We didn't have an easy life. We moved countries when I was only 4, into a new culture, new language, new way of life.
I keep thinking about the torment they must have all endured. how confusing it must have been and have difficult they must have found it.

It pains me so much to think of them suffer, and yes I know, they don't care about me in the same way.
Even just the thought of people with personality disorders having their issues rooted in trauma breaks my heart.
Does that mean its not their fault, the way they behave?
Is my mum's endless vitriolic, angry rants all a cause of her own trauma seeping out, an ugly festering wound that frequently bleeds when its picked at - is her not constantly getting her way akin to picking at this wound of shame and trauma which SHE experienced and which she now tries her best never to feel again?

If those with NPD have a condition as a result of trauma - how can I dehumanise them and label them 'evil and unhealthy to be around'. I have c-ptsd as a result of trauma....does this mean I should consider myself dehumanised and unhealthy to be around?

All I remember of my mother is her anger. It was like she had years and years and years of stored up, repressed anger and frustration. Is this the anger of the child she was when HER emotions were first cut down and rejected?
By rejecting her, am I forcing her to relive her trauma of being rejected by her parents?
And if no-one is to blame, as its certainly not their fault trauma happened to them, how can things ever change?

I remember her having screaming matches with my father who was ill with cancer. It didn't seem to stop her much that he was weak and ill.
Although she loves to throw it as a defense now that 'she was overburdened with a sick husband and lots of children to look after...many people would have crumbled but she tried her best...and how can i always focus on the bad and put her down'.

It breaks my heart to think of this now.
Its almost like I can hear HER inner child crying out for approval: why do you only pick out my faults and flaws and never give me credit for any of the good I do?

Letter to my mother
Because, mother, the bad you do has completely traumatised me and you continue to behave in that way.
It would be different if you were under a lot of pressure and couldn't cope but later tried to make amends.
You have never done that. You have only ever continued to blame, shame, and guilt me.

I'm too ashamed to feel ordinary feelings because of you. I'm too ashamed to allow myself to have any rights to any feelings and reactions. I feel so horribly unworthy because of your words and the control you exerted over me as a child, that I feel I only deserve to be oppressed and ignored. I don't feel deserving of fun because of the way you always lambasted any kind of fun or any activity I wanted to do. You called it 'sins' and amoral to want to have friends and to do normal things that children enjoyed.

Because of you, everytime I pass by a beautiful lake or a hill, I feel paralysed and fearful and depressed. Because those were the places the community we were in would do day trips to, and you used to lock the doors and declare we weren't going and couldn't go and a bunch of other vitriolic, nasty things to shame me for wanting to go with them.
Because of you, little things like going to a bowling alley also triggers panic, depression and fear.
When I go shopping, the effect of retail therapy wears off a day later, when I look at my new purchases and feel sick, paralysed and unworthy of having any money spent on me.

I remember I didn't even feel deserving of a comfortable and correct school uniform. The schools gave out vouchers for us to buy our own. I really wanted and needed it - the teachers were screaming at me everyday for going in with the wrong shoes, the wrong clothes. I'd be too terrified to ask you. You acted like it was all a huge burden. You sighed, yelled, and/or dismissed me.
You used the vouchers to buy my older brother trainers because you favoured boys over girls, or something to that effect. I didn't mind he had it because I loved him very much, he was kind to me and he deserved to have shoes and clothes, but what about me? If he used my voucher, what would I wear?
How would I get the teachers to stop yelling at me everytime they recognised I wasn't wearing the correct uniform?

I''m mad at you for not being able to take care of those needs for me back then that still haunt me. I don't even know how to fully enjoy my nice, new house because it is TOO nice. I am only used to having rooms with moulds, broken down beds and old furniture that didn't go, and which is filled with things hoarded up by you because you didn't like to throw anything out. I'm used to ugly old duvets that hadn't been washed because for some reason, you didn't like to buy/use washing machines and would get angry if I took it upon myself to wash anything.
I'd be too scared to clean up, because of your angry reaction.

I'm trying everyday to grow up and live as an adult, whilst healing and learning self-compassion. I don't fully know how to do any of those things yet.
What I do know - I'm so angry at you for halting my normal development. Instead of allowing me to experience, feel and understand, you:
- shamed
- guilted
- terrified
- ridiculed
- humiliated
- and bullied

me out of feeling any of my feelings, living through any of my experiences, being soothed by things that terrified me.
And I feel like that child, paralysed at age 4/5, wanting to tell you that I am tired, scared, feel so upset by your comments that make fun of me, especially when I need you the most and most of all: so confused that i can't make sense of any of what i feel and why it makes you so angry and horrible that I now don't even know what the original feeling is, because now I have zoned out of my body and feel too numb and dissociated from the original thing that happened, although the underlying fear is very much there, which has only become way worse since you reacted.
I just wanted a hug, and to be able to tell my story from my day at school, and to let you know what the teachers said to tell you, and to ask you for help because I feel lonely at school, I don't know the language and I can't remember all the rules like when to bring my instrument for my music class.

But you've already made it so obvious all of these things bother you - they seem to upset you and make you so angry and i can't understand why! Other than I must be so awful, so disturbing, so unloveable that its me that is the problem. 

[Jazzy]

That's a powerful letter Holidayay, sounds like you're making good progress. Take care!

[holidayay]

FRIENDSHIPS - PART 1

Its been a mixed bag couple of days.

On the one hand, I feel some healing has started to take place. I feel like I've started to see things really clear and been able to put the pieces of my fragmented self slowly together to get a look at the overall picture. On the other hand, some of the realisations have made me feel incredibly sad.

I've been reading the memoir of a girl about life in her twenties. Stories of her and her friends, who she's had since she was a teenager. They supported each other and have remained in each other's lives for so long.

It made me realise there is so much I deny myself, and have denied myself.
She speaks of how they got each other through the rough days. How after breaks up, she'd stay over in her friend's bed. How, after her friend's sibling passed away, she was there for her all the time.
It made me think back to all the friendships I had. They weren't reflective of my real self at all. I constantly felt like I had to please, impress and make other people's lives easy in order to be accepted.

If i was upset, I'd be frantic with panic that they wouldn't want the burden.
I remember reaching out to a girl after my sibling passed away, though we didn't know each other too well, I was vulnerable and frank and told her I could really use a friend right now. She was in the community within which I'd grown up so we'd sort of known each other.
She ignored my messages and I'd heard from another friend she'd said she 'didn't want to get involved' with me. I remember that moment so well - it plunged me into so much despair and self-hatred and sitting on that bus, listening to my friend tell me what she had said about me, I felt myself getting hot and so upset, embarrassed and humiliated. I felt exposed and like I had made such a fool of myself in reaching out. I felt like a stain on somebody's shoe.
Years later, that same girl added me on facebook. With great vengence, I rejected her request and set up a revenge plan to humiliate her in the same way I'd felt so humiliated. I had a college buddy who was very shallow and into easy hook-ups. I told him to message her, knowing full well she wasn't a massive looker. She was overweight and didn't have the commercial look that he was into. After he'd messaged her, I told him what she really looked like. I went on his profile and sent her a message to reject HER. Being mean about how she looked. I thought it would make me feel better and give me peace where she was concerned.
It didn't. it made me feel pathetic and horrible. Looking back, I realise I was trying to play the mean girl game. Thinking that's what it took to give me credibility and a sense of self.
Because being a grieving sixteen year old was unacceptable to her, a thing she 'didn't want to get bogged down with' and therefore, it was unacceptable to me. That's who I really was at the time, and who i wish I allowed myself to be. Instead of allowing the superficial, fickle verdict of a girl who only wanted to hang out with the 'cool crowd', as she was known.

I was grieving but still in that desperate state of wanting to be liked, valued, accepted. I'd never had that, and was troubled by it everyday, that even losing a sibling didn't overshadow it. Grieving was another thing added to my list of things I didn't know I could give myself permission to do. No-one cared how I felt about losing my brother at home.
The only time I gave myself permission to grieve was when it hit me, during long nights of revision, and I would suddenly be alert with the unbelievable idea that he had really gone. I would cry, and write him letters. One time, after another one of my mum's narcissistic rage episodes, with my sister being her accomplice, in a hot fit of rage, I opened up a word tab and out spilled a poem that I didn't know I had within me.

Thank god for writing.

I wish I had never felt so weak, that I cared about the thoughts of a supposedly 'cool' girl.
Why on earth did I think she would really want to help me, anyway? Did I think my sadness would give her pity enough to take notice of me and finally, I'd be validated? She was similar in talk and mannerisms to the abusive members of my family, in fact, she had often made it clear she had a lot of respect and admiration for my older sister who is very abusive. They were both of the same ilk - the type of mean girl in school who somehow would make others feel like their approval was needed. I guess I wanted from her what I never felt I got. I wanted acceptance and support from a 'cool' person who wasn't afraid to be outspoken and trample over others to get themselves seen and heard and therefore get their needs met. In my twisted mentality, it felt like that was the right way to be - because hey, it worked for them. They were noticed. They got reactions. I felt like a nothing in comparison, and just couldn't understand how to BE like them. So maybe if I could be WITH them and accepted BY them, I'd feel whatever I needed to feel which I just couldn't get by myself.

Friendships were never stable, or what I was really wanting.
For a long time, I wanted someone who had all the answers, to be a surrogate 'mother' or 'caregiver'.
For another period after that, when I realised with despair that I couldn't get that, I slipped into people-pleaser mode. I became the eternal care-giver, because hey, just like at home, if I couldn't get the support, I might as well give it since no-one else could, and that gave me some notice because giving made others feel good and that was enough for them to notice me.

I had friendship after friendship that was chaotic. Looking back, it was the same friendship playing over.
I'd let someone in, listen to all their problems, tirelessly try to help, only to be met with being used and tossed away, drained and exhausted - once drained, those friends would disappear or I'd get so drained, I couldn't stand to be in their company anymore.
I had no boundaries at all.

There was the 3 girls I met when I first left home. One of them hated when I cried or got upset. She made it obvious I wasn't cool enough, nor rich enough. She wanted rich friends, rich boyfriends, and to go shopping all the time. I couldn't do that. She made it obvious I was a kill-joy to her. Her sister was in this group - she was nicer and more empathetic, but bless her, she seemed to have paranoia and some kind of psychosis, where she believed the KGB were out to get her. The third girl in this group was more neutral. She didn't seem to have a personality - sort of just took on whatever flavour there was. I didn't know I could choose who to like and want to be around. I just felt that any sort of bad feeling or conflict was because everything is my fault.
So I stuck around with them until the bold one who made it clear she didn't like me decided I was to be ditched.

I was absolutely heartbroken. I thought I'd tried so hard to finally have a group of friends within which to call home. I'd even spent all my student loan money early just to keep up with the shopping sprees. But she didn't want to know - at all. I was so depressed. She upped her game by following me around the student halls of residence and making threats to beat me up. I felt terrified - then angry. What had I actually done to her other than try my best to fit in with her superficiality? So I stood up for myself and we had a blazing argument in the hallway.
They left me alone after that. The neutral girl was also dropped - she stuck up for herself after one of the other girls insisted she copy her essays, without thought of the plagiarism rules.
We teamed up, I suppose since we didn't really have anyone else.

We'd watch episodes of charmed together. We'd look for jobs together. Have sleep-overs together. Go to bookstores together.
I could never understand it, but i always felt uneasy. Like I just didn't fully know how to communicate with her. She didn't behave in a way which asked me to be her saviour. Without that, it felt like my role was...redundant. I didn't know how to have fun and just be.
We made another friend, with whom I also felt similar. Though they both treated me with more respect, I felt like an alien in their company. Their families both had money and were...normal. I despised being in their company, because I did not feel like it was ok to be my true self, to dilvulge the full horrors of my past that was haunting me in dreams, flashbacks and the eternal inner critic.
After a few years, after moving away from that city, I couldn't bear to carry on pretending and I on-purpose drifted them out of my life. I thought I needed friends - friendships were what people had - but I didn't know how to do them, at all. A few times, I'd get back in touch, thinking I should work harder at it...not realising the entire time that that was the problem to begin with. Friendships aren't about WORK. I'd get exhausted than drift away again until finally, I got to a place when I got into medical school where I started to slowly learn how to be myself in friendships.
The old terms under which those previous friendships had operated were no longer in existence. it was so liberating to meet people who would openly talk of their hardships. Who also didn't come from money. Who also had difficult family relations.

It took many, many years of work before I began to really learn about friendships and what they meant to me.
I feel bittersweet that I learnt about friendship like this. That my friendships I had when I was young and DID feel like I could be myself - playing, exchanging secrets, simply being myself - had been ended abruptly after my father passed away and my mum's control came into full force.
I resent her for altering my life's development with her need for control and oppression. I feel like telling her that was the dumbest move she could have made and that she is selfish. She says it was for our own good, to protect us from others, (we'll understand when we're older) - an infuriating response. No, I wanted to go out and play with my good friends and be a child and there was nothing about those carefree childhood friendships she needed to protect me from - and she can stop pretending that's her excuse as it is obvious it wasn't about protecting us at all - she loved having attention from her own friends for goodness sake.

This is without a doubt one of the most infuriating things about my mother. How she speaks of her actions as 'being for our own good' and always something 'we'll understand when we're older' and shutting down any protests or need to understand or frustration, anger, or hurt at being deprived of the right to have fun. She says it with such arrogance, haughtiness and in a brisk, dismissive way, to let me know quickly that that's the end of the conversation. All the while, she is behaving completely at odds with these oppressive rules.

[holidayay]

I have an exam to study for, which will take place on tuesday.

I've done a little bit of work, but keep getting triggered.
I know this process is necessary and I no longer want to hide away from it or just distract myself (never worked anyway) but sometimes, I just don't have the time. I hate how trauma doesn't care about present-day responsibilities or what you can shoulder. In fact, it seems to laugh in the face of 'how much can you reasonably shoulder' and seems to fight back harder when there is increased stress/pressure.

I guess my scared inner child feels more vulnerable during these periods and cries out harder.

I was triggered today by re-connecting with a friend of mine who I hadn't spoken to in 6 months.
She told me my sister had attempted to add her on social media. This made me stomach twist with anxiety: my sister just doesn't seem to want to let go of her hold over me. She likes the old dynamics far too much, where she was in control and got all her needs met so well, at my expense.
I've put up all the boundaries and walls, and still she tries to sneak in.

Thankfully, this friend said she wasn't interested and ignored the friend request.

It got me triggered off about my memories with my sisters.
How for many years, I tried desperately to forge a new 'normal' life, after we had turned into adults and moved away from the toxic home. I didn't realise they weren't up for this ride and wanted to continue the cycle of dysfunction - they essentially replaced abusive mum with abusive boyfriends.
I remember things like wanting to visit my sister, have dinner, a cup of tea, a chat, a catch up, maybe go shopping....all the normal things. The things a lot of people took for granted which i was very excited to now finally be able to do.
She didn't seem so interested in those things.

She just wanted to talk and moan and analyse her abusive boyfriend's behaviour, and repeat the same old obsessional chatter.
They had a hugely dysfunctional relationship and both their behaviour was insane. She was hellbent on receiving affection and love and when he didn't give it, she would turn nasty, both verbally and physically. I hated their dynamics. I hated how none of it made sense. There wasn't even a clear victim or perpetrator. She liked to paint his character black but listening to the stories and watching them together, they were both as vicious and bad as each other.

I hated hearing his name more than I did anything else during those days.
And when he eventually separated and insisted on it, she was depressive, and became very self-centred and short. I was getting sick and tired of the rigamarole of these relationship obsessions and simply just wanted normal family interactions that didn't focus obsessively on the behaviour of one ridiculous man! Does that make me selfish for wanting my vision of family life instead of being an audience to this pointless, energy draining, toxic non-stop to and fro partnership? I can finally say: no it isn't. I'm not selfish for wanting to have mutuality.

I remember hearing she'd had a minor accident and was home resting. I told her I'd visit, and took the train ride over. I bought her ice cream and thought we'd have a comforting evening to calm her down.
She wasn't happy to see me. She'd snapped at me for making a fuss and telling my other sister about it. I felt so upset, confused, rejected and then annoyed. What - just WHAT - was wrong with going over with ice cream and informing our other sister of what had happened? isn't that what families DID?
It seemed like every family member had their own, uniquely dysfunctional rulebook that was random and difficult to predict: it left me with a deep sense of unease, instability and non-safety, as I didn't know what would trigger off which person.

So, instead of the comforting evening I'd thought of, instead she went on and on about her ex. And then she went on about the new target of her need for affection: a random guy in the current house-share, who she had started to idealise and create a weird, fantasy of care and nurturance over. She spoke of his softness and gentleness and how he 'just wanted to care for her' (all the guys who she ended up in terrible relationships with 'just wanted to care for her'. She speaks at such length, trying to convince her audience, and in the end, it is easier to agree and i'd end up second guessing myself and my intuition and think maybe she IS right.
Then I met the guy and he was nothing like that. He seemed offish, barely acknowledged her and was in difficult circumstances, poor and not able to afford rent.
She then told me of how she had spent the day with him then gone back to her ex and spent the evening with him.

I hated hearing unsettling details like this. It was like there was no end to her need for attention from men and deep lust for fantasies around men.
I could feel my own fantasy of a normal family life slipping away the more I heard lurid details of his escapades.

I realise now we both had our own fantasies we wanted as a way to create the stability, care, nurturance to save us from the bottomless pit of loneliness and trauma we harboured.
But around this time is when i decided my fantasy would need tweaking - the idea behind it was workable, just not the actors in this play. I'd need to source my attention and love onto like-minded people who wanted mutual love, support and acceptance in a non-chaotic and dysfunctional way.

I just wish I hadn't spent so much time ignoring my own viewpoints that i disagreed with her. Everyone in my family was louder, more aggressive, more vocal and this seemed to get them noticed. Spending time with them, though i felt my intuition blaring out at me, i'd ignore it and counteract it that they must be right, they were the confident ones getting their needs met.

I feel like I tampered, altered and adjusted my internal navigation system so much by corrupt lies and dysfunctions of lack of boundaries, lack of respect, lack of mutuality that in the end, it navigation system became haywire and too mixed up; like how the wires of earphones can get jumbled and crossed up and i then have to spend time unpicking them and re-ordering them. I feel like thats what i have to do with my internal system to regain access to my intuition; i'm so sorry i allowed myself to lose it through repeated ignoring it and in a way...gaslighting myself against my own internal reality of...me. My needs, my wants, my viewpoints, my reactions.