Do you have a 'name' for your FOO?

Started by Dutch Uncle, October 27, 2015, 09:55:26 AM

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Dutch Uncle

In my process of coming Out of the FOG, (during most of the time I hadn't even heard of the concept), I  journaled and journaled, wrote essays to myself, educated myself etc. etc.

And at some point I started to use 'new' words for my Family. First I started to call it the "Broken Family" (since my parents have divorced, and this term, albeit uncomfortable at first for the stigma it carries, does fit the bill in describing the actual state of the family I'm part of). Then, when I had finally had the guts to Google "Dysfunctional Family" and the wiki-lemma had such an awful lot of 'boxes' I could check, I started to call it the "Broken Dysfunctional Family", shortened to GDG in my writings. (GDG being Dutch for "BDF" ;D ).

I wondered: do any of you have their own "name", "word", "term", "catch-phrase" for your "FOO"?

GettingThere

#1
Biological family. And even though I wasn't adopted or fostered, I call my M my biological mother or birth mother. I also wrote a story once where I did a play on words with the word "caregiver" and called my M my "scar-giver." For me, I like thinking about names for my real family more. My best friend (and brother from another mother) loves Naruto and he loves to say the quote from it that goes "Friends are the family you choose." So I like calling them framily or chosen family :)

PaintedBlack


woodsgnome

#3
The two sets of abusers in my situation were those in what's called the FOO and the people typically known as teachers in religious schools.

The family figures I usually reference as "the" combined with a solo letter to indicate the role; e.g. the m, f, s, b., but I rarely refer to them as "mine". One therapist wanted me to change this; I think she was fishing for the difference in how or what I called them to see how ingrained it had become or what the difference was if I used the traditional "my" preface. Result: it's ingrained, and I'm more comfortable saying it that way.

With my other set of abusers, the so-called teachers--given their religious roots, I just call them the GAWDawfuls, reflecting their always-angry deity and their abuses in its behalf and with its name attached to their horrors. Even other names--love for instance...their actions associated with that word only taught me that "love hurts"; and its counterpart, "trust kills".

I can have strong reactions to even the most innocuous use of words like family, religion, and love. In certain situations, they can trigger me if I don't get a grip on the automatic tension that arises within. Alas, those aren't mere words to me. The best I can do is remember that it's not always that way for others. Humour helps a lot on occasion--fortunately, I can access it, even if I have to sometimes hide it. :bigwink: Parts of my life are tragic, for sure; but I've sometime been able to see it as a tragicomedy too--and it's helped to weather the hefty emotions that seek to overwhelm.

That's the thing about a lot of cptsd--needing these constant numbing strategies to counter simple things like common words and names.     

V

Hello and good one Dutch Uncle ! you are quite the good conversation starter ... me on the other hand was not raised with good conversation so I'm a tad short and blunt sometimes - but still learning bless all our hearts ...

- no I never had a name for the family I was born into - but hmmmm they sure had names for me!  I was the black sheep, which my father teased me about later in life and I didn't care for that since he was a part of it - I guess he wanted to think he wasn't a part but he could have stopped it and he didn't so he was a part of it all as far as I'm concerned ... I was mainly the "bad one" as my mother introduced me to a new friend of hers and at that age I was 35 and wanted to just out and out slap the * out of her - I would call her a loser today, I told her at age 37 that she surely wasn't a role model for me and that if she didn't start treating me with respect that I wouldn't speak to her. That lasted for less than 2 months and I never spoke to her again. Couldn't go to her funeral. I told my older brother who happens to be some sort of phycologist that I was hopeful that she might find happiness on the other side because she surely wasn't happy here on earth.

Caoi~ for now, Pease! V