That's not so bad, right? Wife2's journey to understanding - and yes - triggers

Started by Wife#2, May 18, 2016, 07:31:05 PM

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Wife#2

Thanks, both of you.

I think the reason for the EF was part of that dialog in my head about me being a pest, strange, not quite right. I wasn't very good at following the same drummer as everyone else in my family of origin.

I see it as a little similar to a comparison my Dad once did between me and my step-sister. I was a natural good student. I got things quickly and retained them well. I could pass tests easily. My step-sister had to work for everything much harder than I did. She struggled with tests, even when she knew the material. He asked me to not brag about my SAT scores because he was afraid that it would set up my step-sister for a self-esteem blow if she didn't do that well. And chances were, I did do better. So, even though I did do quite well, I kept it to myself around her and her brother. I understood, because as well as I did on the SAT, there was one in the family who did even better - the whole family heard the story from our mother of how well that sister did. It was an ego blow, as good as I did, that I wasn't even close to HER score.

It's hard to stop the comparison in my head, though. I know it's not a good thing to do. Especially since I KNOW all MY flaws, but not anyone else's. So, what I see as a perfect little marriage producing perfect little children (I will say, my nieces and nephews ARE pretty cool people) may be just the 'face' I'm allowed to see. So, comparing is useless. But, that doesn't stop me from sometimes doing it anyway. Oh, and if I'm honest, I have a great young boy with a big heart and a generous nature. I'm working to be a better parent to him, so maybe I am doing all right after all.

Wife#2

Memory - triggered by having to get DS8 his newest pair of glasses, and finding out just how bad his eyes are. Just like me. Sorry, kiddo, I wish for you that it wasn't so.

I'm in 3rd grade. It's a private school, so we're all in uniforms. The wealthier kids have uniforms that fit nicely. The rest of us have hand-me-downs or used uniforms from the annual trade-off. I'm often teased for smelling bad and having oily hair. It's the years of the fuel embargo and I am teased that the oil in my hair would solve the crisis! My sister doesn't hear these comments, but my GC brother does - and chants along with the mean kids. I'm also stuck wearing glasses, the only kid in our family who has to wear them. I don't even respond to the four-eyes taunts, but I sure do hear them.

I think the thing that pisses me off today about this memory is that this is the same brother who confronted my husband in our hotel room because he heard raised voices (knew nothing of what started it) and went in blasting my husband saying 'We're family and we stick together and defend each other'. Funny, that was his BROTHER IN LAW he was yelling at. I have never confronted GC brother about this part, because I'm afraid to know the answer. But, if that's true, where was he in my childhood? All my memories of him are NOT of him defending me but of him leading the teasing, or at least letting it happen and trying to hide that we are brother and sister from everyone. If he could have got away with it, I got the distinct feeling that he would have disowned me at my age 9, or younger, and been much happier in his life.

My one constant in my childhood was me chasing after my GC brother and him running even faster away from me. I wanted his approval so bad, but he was determined to NOT give it to me. He was embarrassed of me or something. I still don't know what was so wrong with me that he had to reject me over and over and over again. And because he and I were pretty much below the parental radar (older sibs being teenagers and all that drama), they didn't even know this was going on.

I think one reason it hurt so badly was that it was so obvious that he was the chosen child. Second son, but the masculine one (later found out older brother was gay), the athletic one, everything both parents wanted in a son. I was fifth daughter, last child, almost killed Mom by her being pregnant with me, cause of Autistic sister being sent away. Not a great resume when trying to convince parents you were worth their time, love, energy.

Even into adulthood, my GC brother has always managed to act embarrassed of me or by me. It actually looks as if he's in physical pain to share a room with me, even with the rest of our family of origin and his entire family of choice surrounding him. THIS is why I keep my distance from him. I do not want to chase him for his approval anymore. I do not want to cause him stress or dismay. I do not want to hurt my own feelings trying to twist myself into some acceptable form for him or anyone else anymore.

The last time I was at his house (husband, son and me visiting him, SIL and two of their children), all was amicable until SIL decided it was time to confront me about my rejecting Catholicism. I haven't rejected God or Jesus or the meaning of the Cross, just the specific faith of Catholicism. But, it was obvious this had been a topic of discussion behind my back and SIL was the only one brave enough to bring it up. When I told her that I was glad for her and GC Bro and Dad and Stepmom and even Mom that all of them can embrace the religion. That was wonderful, but it doesn't make me less of a person because I remain a Christian, just not under the Catholic banner anymore. They acted like I'd just committed heresy. GC bro left the room. SIL actually looked wounded. I took that as my warning that it was time to leave. And that was the closest to an actual conversation I'd had with either my brother or SIL in over a decade. That happened almost 6 years ago.

Ok, this started out being about DS8 getting glasses and me remembering being teased at his age for glasses and for oily hair. I don't really know why I had to express this part about my brother. I've been in his shadow most of my life. I've wanted his approval or at least NOT his DISapproval most of my life. I've torn myself apart trying to figure out why I can't seem to fix whatever it is about me that makes me such an outsider.

One of the saddest things, is the same look of disgust GC bro tries to hide when I'm around, it's shared by my stepbrother. The family screw-up and he looks down his nose at me. I'm the problem, even though he doesn't even try to reach out to me. Never even tried, though I did try with him. I'm still not even sure why stepbrother accepted my friend request on FB, manners doesn't seem to be it. I get it if he want's to be NC with me, but be consistent, reject the FB request, too, you know? Since he always remains away when I'm in town, even if it means missing Christmas with his Mom.

I just don't know what I've done to offend these people so much. Because I called Dad on his favoritism? Because I refused to be Mom's step-and-fetch-it, counselor, best friend, confidante, companion after I got married? Because I'm not Catholic? (Why would stepbro care, he isn't either!) It goes back before I got married. It goes back before I walked away from Catholicism. It goes back before I even dropped out of college. It goes back before Mom and Dad divorced. It goes back before we left the big city for the small town. It goes back before I started elementary school. If it goes back further than that, I'm really not sure how far back or why or what started it.

It's as if I was caught trying to kill my sister, but she's the one who got sent away. As if that offended my brother's sense of justice and he was not going to lose any opportunities to let me know it. As if having me in the family has hurt the family and that is why they do their best, but can't lose the sight of whatever my toddlerhood crime was.

Or, as if my sister tried to kill me and their shame was that I lived. Not knowing how to deal with the guilt, they avoided/avoid me. GC bro was too close in age to avoid me, but he could tease me into avoiding him - except all I wanted was his acknowledgment and acceptance of me as a person. So, that didn't work. My kindhearted sister and brother each had compassion for me, so that I wasn't completely thrown to the wolves while still living at home. 

The more I think about it, the more this actually makes some sense. Maybe that's why I have so many more issues than my siblings. I figured it was a pecking order thing, but maybe it was that, when provoked, my sister would hurt me. She was bigger than me and could hurt me. I could understand if my parents, who were already trying to save their marriage, would have felt extreme guilt if their decision to keep Autistic sister in the home resulted in me being hurt badly at her hands. And, of GC bro - who is only 1 year older than Autistic sis - not understanding and blaming me when he heard my name mentioned, setting into action a string of events that led to the dynamics we have now.

I'm rambling and speculating. I almost hope that last part is true, because THAT would make sense and it would be forgivable. I may still have to stay away from them, because the result has been toxic treatment of me and my family and a large helping of blame the victim.

I can't ask either parent, though. Any time I bring up that sister, there is pain and a change of subject. I'm not allowed to ask about her or have memories of her because it's too painful for them (Mom, Dad, stepmom, GC bro and SIL). I have no right because I didn't go visit her. I didn't go visit her because she'd made it clear she didn't like me, why put either of us through that? Regardless, that means I have no right to even discuss her life. So I can't even find out if my theory is BS or has basis in fact.

Now, I'm full out rambling. Time to quit for tonight.

Wife#2

I'm beginning to get a better picture of my childhood. I don't think the emotional neglect would have been as bad if I hadn't had GC brother making me feel even worse about myself as a person.

I've been mulling over my last entry, really looking at what was important enough for me to write. What comes across is a little girl who just wanted to be loved. A social girl who didn't know HOW to be social. A sweet-hearted girl who wanted to be a good friend and a good sister and a good daughter, not necessarily in that order.

Heart-Mom sister and Heart-Dad brother had real compassion for their little sister. They loved and tried, but had to take care of themselves as well. They were also just kids.

The parents of my friends took pity on me. They didn't understand why, they just knew I was the awkward one in my family. They didn't send me home as early as they might have another child. They let me stay and play with their children. I remember their faces, especially the Mom of my best friend. She had a bunch of children, also. She knew not all siblings get along and not all families were as happy as they pretended to be. She was the nicest to me, which is probably a big reason I considered her daughter my best friend. That feeling was not mutual. That friend had others with whom she was closer, but we were neighbors, so we played together a lot.

Our neighborhood was full of large families. But there was one unwritten rule. I could not befriend anyone in a family that was already 'claimed' by an older sibling, especially GC brother. That reduced my options a lot. Few had kids as young as me, fewer didn't have an older sibling that GC bro didn't consider a friend.

The harder Mom tried to make GC bro and me play together, the harder he fought against it. If he had been made responsible for me so we could both go to the playground, he'd ditch me as soon as we got there and disappear with his buddies. He was two blocks away from the playground when he got hit in the eye with a rock. Part of why he didn't want to go home is he'd have to explain why he'd been off playing rock wars (his and his buddies war games) instead of keeping an eye on me. Fortunately for him, seeing his bleeding eye took the focus off WHERE he was and put it into getting him medical help.

Later, the truth did come out, but by then, Mom and Dad were just so relieved that he hadn't blinded himself that they let that part go.

I just think that the combination of neglectful parents, a brother who wanted NOTHING to do with me and a social tendency in my personality all came together to form this hurt.

From my brother's perspective, I get the feeling that he looked at our relationships like the old cartoon that had the bulldog as the hero (him) and the annoying, bouncy dog that wanted to be his friend (me). Then, because I was a blabbermouth (called so often), he'd get in trouble for hitting me away from him like the dog in the cartoon. If I heard it once, I heard it at least dozens of times, 'Go away, kid, you bother me!'

I even got to a place where I could laugh at myself over that. But, looking back on it, what a horrible thing to say! Not you're behavior bothers me, YOU bother me.

Now, I'm certain that I'm not remembering all the times I pinched, pushed or otherwise hurt my brother. I'm sure there were times, there is no halo over my head and surely no wings on my back. If I'm completely honest, there must have been times when I was the instigator and got HIM in trouble just because he was older than me.

But, now, when I see siblings who REALLY get along (I'm thinking of GC bro's four children), I'm triggered into feeling unworthy. Unworthy to even know them, let alone be related to them. I'm impressed, watching them defend each other against ALL comers. They stand four united. They will even take on the parents to defend each other. They can tease, but it does stop before hurting, before becoming a personal insult. AND the underlying love is understood between all of them. The relationship is there. I'm jealous sometimes, a white-hot ugly thing. Other times, just so sure this is the proof of WHY my brother didn't love me. I'm unlovable. It's the only explanation of why we could be two years apart and he gave every appearance of hating me. And not all appearances are deceiving.

And it keeps showing up in our adult lives, too. I've tried being a good friend to his wife (she's a neat person, pushy for my taste, but I didn't marry her). I've tried being a good aunt to his children. They have no respect for me. They treat me like an interloper at family events, at least the boys do.

The only time I can remember that family treating me well was when I agreed to join GC Bro's multilevel business. Then, when I decided it wasn't for me and quit, they began a campaign that their kids took to heart more than GC Bro realized. At the time, it was the practice of those who remained after someone quit to call that person a loser, a failure, for giving up on the dream. Even though I grew his business for him, with almost NO support from him or his wife, they did this to me. They called me a failure and a loser, around their children. On one of the last times I tried to be around them for a holiday, their oldest daughter did the 'L' on her forehead at me. She laughed and ran away when I was trying to get her to the dinner table.

You can't tell me that those times didn't have an impact on the view of those children towards me. I was the only one in the family willing to help, and that is what happened when I stopped helping. And those children may not even remember WHY they think I'm such a loser, but the fact that they do is evident. They don't put 'L's on their foreheads anymore, their Dad and Mom put a stop to that whey THEY wanted out of the business. But, the lesson behind that hand gesture stayed. And, I felt the same pressure on me to re-earn my brother's love all over again. Just like when we were kids.

Since then, I've been the uncomfortable one. I'm the one finding excuses to NOT attend family gatherings if he or his wife or any of their kids will be there. And that means missing out on an awful lot of family events. And my absence is brought up as more evidence that I'm not committed to my family of origin like everyone else. So, I'm the outcast even more. Lately, they don't even bother to invite me, not really. And the inner critic says, 'Yup, unworthy as a kid, unworthy as an adult. The more things change, the more they stay the same.'

This is hitting me hard right now because GC bro is a grandfather. I was invited (by facebook general announcement only, not sent specifically to me) to the little one's birthday party. I was really thinking of going! But, then, little man's mother (my niece) just announced her engagement. The whole family was involved. The 25+ pictures show happy siblings, happy fiancés, happy aunts & uncles in attendance (my & bro's sisters). Everyone in on the question-pop and everyone happy for these two. I'm happy for them, but if past predicts future, if I go to this birthday party, I'll only take me and DS8. The absence if my H will be noted. The sense of being an outcast will be heightened. And at home, H will just complain about the wasted money on a trip when I come home feeling so bad about myself. And he's right.

So, I'm going to miss another major family event. Because attending hurts worse than the trash-talk when I don't go. Which will just prove to the whole family again that I'm an outcast, they were right, let's just keep on keeping on without her.

And the saddest thing to me is that this opinion of me is now so firmly planted into the next generation. I'll send a gift, and be thanked for it. I'll send a sweet card for the little man. I'll be thanked for it. But, if they're honest with themselves and with me, they'll be relieved that I chose not to attend in person.

Three Roses

This breaks my heart for you. I can't express how deeply I connect with this! Sooooo many things about this portion of your life are so similar to mine.

:hug:

Wife#2

Three Roses, we are heart-sisters. For the companionship and support, I am grateful. For the suffering we survived to earn this camaraderie, I am sorry.

It would help if DH didn't also have c-PTSD, and his is for a much more violent sibling situation. It's like blue on black talking to him about my situation. My brother was just mean and invalidating. His was brutal and bloodthirsty. So, in my H's eyes, my life was golden, what am I complaining about!??! And, knowing his story, it's easy to write mine off as whining too much (thus the title of this journal). That makes real progress difficult.

So, I am eternally grateful for this website and for new friends like you. You help me to believe that I'm not crazy, that I DID go through unreasonable stuff and that it's not surprising, considering how little I've dealt with it, how much more growth there is ahead of me. Your online friendship does mean a lot to me.

I've decided to not attend the birthday party. I will send a nice gift with a card. I will send a separate card congratulating birthday boy's mother for her engagement.

I think I will even send GC bro and his wife a photo album for all the pics they are taking and will take of the birthday boy. I don't know if they bother printing anymore, but sometimes sitting down with a  photo album in one's lap is just better than swiping right on a phone.  I hope they feel the same.

sanmagic7

i believe now that if it feels/felt real, it is real.  what you've gone through is heartbreaking, and comparisons don't make it any less so.  what your h has gone through is his trauma, not yours, and vice versa.  your experience is valid, your beliefs are valid, and your feelings are valid.  that whole family thing sucks.  (just my opinion) i can relate, and it's not a good feeling at all.  these traumas that we've experienced hit everyone differently, so i don't see any better or worse scenario for them.  i'm glad you're keeping yourself as safe as possible, making decisions that are the lesser of two evils.  sometimes, that's all we can do.

Wife#2

Thank you for your reply, Sanmagic. Sometimes, it does help just to be validated.

I'm trying to remember to put things in perspective. One thing that does occur to me is that my mother used to laugh and say, you aren't just a little pregnant, either you are or you aren't. I think abuse or neglect, and the way the victim internalizes those experiences is like that. Either you were abused or you weren't. And, just because I, you, he, she - wasn't abused every day of our life, and we have the small bank of good memories, does NOT mean that the abuse didn't happen.

Wife#2

Got a phone call from 2nd oldest sis, the one who's trying to keep everyone in touch and let all of us know how much we're loved by her. Even she had fallen out of the habit of calling. But, I think she also got her fill of always being the one to reach out to our mother, so she's also in town less often.

The call was really good. We talked about all manner of things. Little things like what DS8's favorite books are and big things that I wasn't ready to discuss with sis yet. But, she brought up as semi-matter-of-fact topics that Mom and Dad both found their ways to be unavailable to us kids and that it was easy to slip into the cracks with those two.

I wasn't ready to talk to her about it for several reasons. 1) I'm really just beginning to deal with the fact that Dad wasn't the superhero I remembered until recently. 2) I'm not into bashing people anymore. She was saying unkind things, though true, about our parents, I agreed with some and just remained silent on others. 3) I'm not sure if she's being genuine or acting as a flying monkey for Dad and Stepmom. 4) She's 9 years older, now not so much, but as children it's a generation apart. Her experiences of Mom and Dad are completely different than mine.

DS8 was beside himself that I would spend over an hour talking to someone and NOT paying attention to him. He was almost angry by the time I handed HIM the phone to talk to his aunt. Even after that, he kept bringing up (and exaggerating) how much time I spent on the phone. Then, I reminded him how much time I'd spent with JUST HIM yesterday and Saturday. In two days, he'd got greedy for my time and there was no way for it to be enough. I had to explain to him (and this was triggering and broke my heart) that, while I love spending time with him, I have to have some time to myself and some time with my husband also. I felt like I was abandoning him - though I'd already spent 4 hours doing as he wished and another hour with him at the grocery store. I still ended up spending another hour with him (paying with a hurting back, I don't do sitting on the floor for hours so good anymore), and even THAT wasn't enough.

H finally got angry with him the third time the boy came into our room AFTER we went to bed. I couldn't much blame him. It was time for the child to be asleep and, frankly, for me to be asleep. Not a good way to end what had been a wonderful day.

So, today, I'm glad I got to talk to my sister, though I hate the feeling of suspicion that she's hunting for reasons I'm not all 'desperately seeking acceptance' with Dad right now. I'm glad DS8 and I had fun together, but I'm upset that he wouldn't let the day go to the point of making his father upset with him. This turmoil has my IBS in an uproar, making me slightly nauseous. And, it's one of the toughest days of the month at work today. And my boss won't be in. And my best-at-work-friend is off today. AND, I'm still stressed about the hours cut. And, I'm stressed that the application I put in on Saturday will be reviewed and they'll call my current employer and then my current employer will know I'm looking elsewhere.

DANG. The weekend started out with so much promise! The phone call started out with such promise. I feel good about them and bad about them and don't know what to do with all that ambivalence!

Three Roses

"I feel good about them and bad about them and don't know what to do with all that ambivalence!"

Maybe nothing at all. Living in a cptsd-inducing system, we were encouraged to take responsibility for others' feelings, so we automatically equate "feel" with "do". (Or maybe that's just me....) Part of recovery, I think, is allowing ourselves to feel what we feel, and to learn that we can just feel it without catastrophe lurking in the horizon.

Your son is learning to let go. He won't be great at it from the start. Your loving, healthy examples of self-care will sink in tho, in the long run.

So take pride in what you accomplished! It sounds like a great weekend to me ;)

Wife#2

Thank you, ThreeRoses. Sometimes, it's best to just sit and BREATHE. I have difficulty remembering that. Just like I have difficulty remembering that my parents and siblings have their own relationships. They don't (or at least I hope they don't) waste their time together discussing what's wrong with Wife2. I just get a little paranoid sometimes that what I'm discussing with one family member is later shared with the rest, with the 1st listener's spin on things. :: Shaking head:::   miles to go....

Wife#2

Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you....

So, got a text from Dad. Decided to call him later that evening. Talked with stepmom for a while, then DS8 (who absolutely LOVES his Grandpa and Granny) pestered to get the phone. They chatted for a while, nice stuff to listen to as DS8's Mom. Good relationship-building stuff. DS8 using his good manners, earning praise from his Grandpa when I finally got the phone back.

Ok, I know my Dad and Stepmom aren't 'out to get me', but they worry about me and tell me that they are worried. My sister, the one who called, had been to their house the Monday before she and I spoke. Dad keeps telling me he's worried about me and that he and Sis had been talking about it, and that he and Stepmom had made me and their worry a major topic in their house.

On the one hand, I guess I'm supposed to feel loved because they're thinking of me. On the other, worry - his word - bothers me. It feels in my ear like lack of confidence or belief that I can handle my own life. And, even though I was reassuring him that things may be stress, but they're under control, he kept mentioning how worried about me they are.

I felt bad by the end of the call. THIS, I think, this lack of faith in my abilities to handle my own life, seems to be at the base of many of the problems with me and Dad. He hasn't been around enough to know how much I really have handled all by myself. Not since I was 12. After that, he's known about the big things like High School graduation, getting accepted into college, attending college. But, it seems that his view of me was arrested at age 19. Dropping out of college (he ran out of money, my grades weren't great) became the seminal event in his mind.

I was angry because only a month before I dropped, he'd cried poor, blaming my oldest brother (Heart-brother) for not paying a loan back to Dad as his reason for discontinuing my college. Then, when the grades came in - he had his justification. I had flunked history. The rest of my grades were passing, though not strong. But that one F, that became the legend of Wife2 flunked out of college. NO I DIDN'T! Granted, I wasn't acing it either, but I didn't flunk out. Ask any member of my family, though, and they'll tell you that I did. Because that's what Dad told them. That 'F' was also his reason for denying me access to his home to 'get back on my feet'.

But, he's worried about me.

I found a place to live, got a job, struggled. I already talked about the real poverty days and how, though I was thin, I was NOT anorexic or bulimic, but he told the family I was because of how thin I was. As soon as I had a reliable job and started eating, the weight came back. I was active, so I never did get big, just not scrawny anymore. He still thought I was anorexic.

So, he worried about me.

I moved to my current state. I got a job - a series of jobs. I found a place to live (first with Mom, then bounced around a lot) - I found a LOT of places to live. All were safe, jobs were decent. I rarely went more than a week without a job and I was not homeless anymore.

Yet, he worried about me.

I found a stable job. I bought a home BY MYSELF. I financed it, I saved, I cleaned up credit. I did that. On my own. It took years to get everything lined up. But, I did it. Mom didn't help (other than giving me a place to live while I saved). Dad didn't help. The siblings didn't help, other than to answer some questions about the process when I called. Everything else I did, down to the frustration of getting the insurance company to sign on so we could close, I did alone.

Still he worried about me.

I survived the death of two sisters and one brother over a 9-year span. I survived things he never knew about (relationship stuff and the rape and other things). HE still doesn't know everything I have survived.

Though he worries about me.

I found a man. Maybe not the best but certainly NOT the worst man. I married this man. I'm still with him. We have a son together. Of course, I worry if I'm a good-enough Mom. I think I am. I pray I am. But, I'm not worried if my son is capable of managing his own 8-year-old life. I know I'm there if he needs me. I know I've taught him pretty well. I know he's smart and quick and will find his way, even if he stubs a toe or bangs a knee or breaks his own heart along the way. He'll make it. It won't always be easy, but I don't worry that he'll fail! And my DS8 KNOWS I have faith in him.

Now, Dad worries about me.

It's about four decades too late, Dad! Maybe if you'd been there more for me when I did NEED you as a kid, you wouldn't have to worry so much in your old age.

It just feels slimy to me when he tells me that. He's a great Dad in many respects. He genuinely loves his kids. He and I do have a challenging relationship, but I think it's all those years of worrying about me instead of helping me. All those years of worrying about me instead of building up my self-confidence. All those years of worrying about me instead of being there for me. All those years of lectures without context because they were on his mind. I remember the lessons. I apply them as much as I can, they were great advice! But, they were lectures and not life-lessons from a Dad. Does that even make sense? I hope so, because that really is how I feel.  So, all that worry is wasted. I can't claim it. I can't let HIS worrying about ME make me change anything in my life. Not just the fact that he's worried.

And the fact that my sister would be in on the conversations and be willing to call me to try to guess the reason why I'm not communicating so much right now bothers me, too. It feels a lot like betrayal. Like my conversation with her wasn't private. Like it wasn't JUST between us. I guessed at that during our conversation, but after talking with Dad, that cemented my fears. My sister was playing flying monkey for my Dad rather than Dad being straight-forward enough to call me himself.

I feel like I just touched something slimy and can't find any soap to wash it off. YUCK!!

Three Roses

When I hear people talking about their FOO's, and how family is everything, blood is thicker blah blah, I think, "Wouldn't it be nice if that were true for me too?"

Families, we're told, stick together, help each other, support, etc. But that is not our experience. Our experience is that families are the source of pain, not the relief from it; we move on, trying to care for our children (if we have them) better than we ourselves were cared for, but still remaining the hurting children we were, always looking over our shoulders.

I'm sorry your dad and siblings hurt and betrayed you, growing up. It is a sad and lonely feeling. But who you are now is both a product of that pain and your desire to rise above it, to be a better person than you experienced in your childhood. You probably have a wealth of compassion for people who are hurting, and tons of insight too.

You can feel confident in your achievements. Your life may not be perfect but no one's is! Your dad's worry may be an attempt for him to soothe his own feelings of inadequacy and failure, but don't let his feelings affect you. You don't have to accept their definition of you. :hug:

Wife#2

Thank you, Three Roses. And you are so right in everything you said.

My family, many of the members, ARE close and supportive and 'have each other's backs', I'm just not in that number. Being related to them isn't enough. That is what it is. No sense feeling bad about it anymore. That just drags me down. They are who they are. I am who I am. We're related by blood. We care. But, it's a card-on-birthdays kind of thing and that's ok now. It hurts to see that I'm odd-woman-out, but I'll deal with my pain my own way.

I've come to realize that Dad's worrying about me is HIS issue, not mine. But, it does kind of piss me off. If he knew me better, he'd realize that I'm strong as * and capable in ways even I haven't fully been aware of until lately. How he or my mother or any of my siblings define me is based only on their limited relationships with me. The better anyone knows me, the stronger they know me to be.

It just really felt ugly talking to him on the phone, hearing him repeat over and over that he and his wife worry about me. It felt ugly because worry is the lazy mans' cop-out. If you are so concerned about me, talk with me, help me, DO something. But, sitting back and worrying about me without any of that? Well, so flipping what?!

I worry about my son, then I look at what has me worried and I address it. Do I think he'll struggle making friends? I get him out where he has to meet new people. I see how he does. He's GREAT at making new acquaintances. NOT a problem for him. His ability to turn those into friends, that's a process that I can help, but must stand back from interfering. But, I don't just sit back and worry that he won't have an active social life. I DO things. I talk with him about how HE feels on the subject.

Worry is wasted energy when there are so many healthier ways to deal with things and people. My mother once told me that worry won't pay a single bill - only hard work and funds will do that. If she lived by those words, she'd be in a better situation than she is now, but that's her problem, those are HER consequences.

Am I concerned that I may lose my job? Yes. I don't worry about it, but I do think about what I can do to prevent that, or to find another job, or just deal with it should it happen. Then, I can relax. I have a plan. I am doing something proactive about it. I'm not just going home worrying about it.

My husband is a worrier also. And, now that I put all the cards on the table at the same time, I understand why his worry has always got under my skin.

Worry is the thought that someone can't handle it themselves and that YOU may have to step in and help out. Worry is being pretty sure they are failing or getting ready to fail and that you see it better than they do. Worry is assuming they can't cope.

I remember that, when I'd lost my previous job to layoff, my husband worried himself sick that I wouldn't find a new job and that we'd be faced with financial strains. I kind of laughed, because of COURSE we'd have some financial strains, but what were we going to do, how were we going to prioritize things? Let's get answers, then we won't have to worry! He didn't like how I went about finding a new job. He worried. I was re-employed within three weeks. I've been with this employer ever since. Even if I DO lose this job, I have faith in myself to find suitable work within a month. We've already decided that we can survive any situation for two months. So, what's the worry?

I reject the worry. And I really appreciate your vote of confidence, Three Roses. Thank you.

Danaus plexippus

Ha! You think worry is slimy? My bat $hit crazy mother-in-law pulled me aside one day and said "We all feel so sorry for you." Like you "sorry" did not come with any actual help. To say her words felt like slim would be an insult to slime.

Wife#2

Danaus, oh, how horrible! Yes, I agree, slime has more comfort than empty pity.

I rather like those stupid commercials for some credit card, I think. The ,' What if everyone said what they really meant' commercials. I think the genius behind that ad campaign MUST have some PD in their lives, and the pretending for the sake of manners and appearances lives under that person's skin. I almost wish life were like that more often - where we could say what we really mean, while keeping it as kind as possible (treat others and all that..) and just go on with our lives.