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

Very interesting -

Things have been tense at work. And at home (yippee for my IBS, which is stress triggered). Anyway, something very interesting just happened that I'd like to explore a bit.

I used to be the kind who would jump on bandwagons. I mean not just jump on, but pick up a pitch-fork and a torch and begin chanting with the driver of said bandwagon - ready to enter battle for my friends. Especially if they felt they'd been wronged. I didn't even have to hear the pitch, I was sold. MY FRIEND couldn't be wrong, so the other person MUST be.

I learned later not to be so quick to jump on the bandwagon, but, I still empathized strongly and validated my friends' feelings when they felt wronged. Now, with nearly 50 years of life at my disposal, I can temper my emotions separately from my friends' emotions, while still validating and agreeing that the situation stinks. I'm just not willing to do battle for anyone else anymore.

Then, a co-worker who I know to be a hard-working, dedicated and extremely capable worker, valued and true friend and general very good person, was wronged at work yesterday. And, it's not the kind of thing that I can drag out my old pitchfork for, but I sure could let her know that I supported her regardless of her decision - though I'd miss her if she quit. She's not quite ready to quit, but the thought certainly came up. She needed to vent in the worst way possible. I gave her that opportunity, while validating ALL her pent-up frustrations.

It felt good to get angry on behalf of another. It felt like reconnecting with the real me who's been in hiding for a long time. So many people have told me to stop jumping on bandwagons, and I see the value in that advice, I really do. That's why I stopped. But, the total emotional support of another while they struggle is such a relief to my soul! Giving advice is nice and dandy. I'm glad in some ways that I've lived enough to have decent advice to offer. That just isn't the same as saying to my friend, 'No! That was wrong. You deserve better. I see what you give this company and it's just short of blood! What more does your boss want? I mean, really?! You are completely justified in what you feel and how you responded!'

I had to shut my door, because my reputation is to have a good attitude - it's what's kept me employed. But, after that door shut, boy did it feel good to rant on behalf of my friend, just for a minute, just long enough that SHE knew she had someone in HER corner.

I just find it strange how GOOD and RELEASING and more myself that rant made me feel. Granted - my IBS is flaring and I feel like I've spiked my blood pressure. But, my soul is happier since that rant. I think my inner child LIKES to see me defend and validate. LOUDLY. I think she hopes she's my next 'cause' over which I'll get riled up.

Kizzie

QuoteI think my inner child LIKES to see me defend and validate. LOUDLY. I think she hopes she's my next 'cause' over which I'll get riled up.

:yeahthat:   :thumbup:   :applause:  Go for it !  I don't know if you have his book CPTSD: From Surviving the Thriving, but Pete Walker talks a lot about reawakening our natural self-protective instincts and healthy angering. Here's one of his articles in which he talks about this - http://pete-walker.com/pdf/GrievingAndComplexPTSD.pdf.

Wife#2

Am I being too judgmental, or is this the type of behavior I need to be ready to leave my husband over? I really don't know anymore. I wonder if I'm just looking for reasons to divorce, or if what is being done is too much.

So, this is going to be a telling of all that is going on in my house lately. It's a lot, and there are probably some triggers involved.

I don't know because I don't know how much is based on DH's uC-PTSD that I should be understanding about and how much is possible uBPD that won't be changed unless he wants to. It's hard for me to determine this stuff. I also have uc-PTSD, and there is a possibility I also have uBPD. What a pair, huh? Maybe we shouldn't have bred, but we did. And I am so concerned about what our issues are doing to our son!

This goes back to an incident last week. While I was at work, H and DSS23 had a discussion that almost turned into a verbal fight. DSS has a full-time job and still lives with us. He stays away as much as he can, basically only using our house as a bed and storage for his stuff. There is almost no interaction with me or H, but some limited interaction with DS8 - the boys love each other a lot.

With school beginning, I have to get up earlier and get DS8 up. That puts me taking a shower about the time DSS has been all summer - without interference. There is only one full bath in the house. When H and DSS were discussing it, DSS suggested that, to accommodate him, I take my showers the night before.

** Note, he is a single man living in the home H and I provide for him, paying a token rent only. H and I are married. We own the home.

When H and I discussed that conversation, H made it clear that he'd put the man-child straight about me not having to accommodate him, that he should adjust HIS schedule to work around me. While we discussed this, I made a comment that this is MY house and I will take a shower when I want to, HE (my DSS) can work around MY schedule. I was frustrated. I had and have already made a habit of trying to determine WHEN DSS might need the bathroom so I can be out of it in time for his needs. For DSS to talk like that made me pissed. It was as if he hadn't bothered to notice those years when I've worked with his schedule for everyone's comfort.

What my husband heard: This is MY house (not our house - it's true, his name is not on the deed) and YOUR son better not forget that he's here by MY good graces and he'd better back off because I and MY SON (DS8) are the priority around here!

What I actually said: When it comes to bathroom time, he needs to recognize this is my house and I shouldn't be told to be second to anyone else. And DS8 is still a minor, so, yes, his needs come before DSS's also.

Ever since this conversation, where I was also repeating things DH had said more than once in the recent past, H has acted as if I'm ready to divorce him and kick him and DSS out the door for displeasing me. Even after I apologized for how my comments may have sounded, he's been on me about how I supposedly 'LORD' it over him that his name isn't on *my* house and that I can kick him out at any time.

Well, I happened to have had Monday and Wednesday off for vacation. It was scheduled so I could get used to the new morning routine without risking being late for work. So, I told H that, after I had dropped DS8 off at school, we could see about getting his name added to the deed. I had thought it was going to be easier than it turned out to be. In fact, we'd have to hire a lawyer and that would cost $200 - I checked with the lawyer we used for all our other civil important papers.

Once I found that out, H comes at me with the idea that I never wanted him on my house - a lie. The last five times I offered, he refused with the comment that he didn't want *my family* thinking he was trying to steal my house from me. My family have NEVER given him that impression. So, I stopped offering. Then, we went through a very bad patch when I was so close to a divorce, I braced my family for it, hoping to get their emotional help. I also called the lawyer. When I told H about this, he had a melt-down, promising me the moon if only I wouldn't leave him.

Since that time, we've had a couple more rough patches. Bad rough patches. Bad enough, I called a lawyer again - but this time keeping it to myself, so he couldn't accuse me of turning my family against him again. AND because I wasn't sure I'd follow through, so I didn't want to involve my family again. During the conversations with both lawyers, the fact that the house is in my name only, was paid for by my inheritance from an aunt, and that I would need it to provide a home to our DS, a minor child, meant I would be keeping my home.

I've accepted the fact that I would still probably have to sell the home to pay H his equitable share, because I wouldn't be able to 'buy him out' and his being there for 12 years would count towards SOMETHING I'd have to pay him. I might be legally able to leave him with nothing, but I'm not morally capable. H E double-hockey sticks, that's a big part of why I haven't filed for divorce yet!

Anyway, it just really stung that he'd accuse me of having it in for him, wanting to see him devastated financially (again, his first wife REALLY put it to him) and with nothing.

As if that didn't sting enough, he told me that his kids both have talked with him and they think I'm wrong to even consider divorcing him (not what they told me when they asked if things were OK and I said no). He says they told him that they would think I was the biggest bi**h on the planet if I could do that to their dad, leave him alone with nothing and nowhere to go. Basically saying that if I divorced him, I'd lose all contact with the kids because they'd hate me with everything they have for being so cruel to their dad.

This all after I told him that we still had time to get everything together with the lawyer to do the paperwork to get his name on the deed, if it was that important to him. This after he'd said it wasn't that important to him.

He went on to say that, because he's a man and I'm a woman, even if his name was on the house, he'd be screwed and the courts would give me everything, so what did it matter anyway. I think he was fishing for me to assure him that I would NEVER, EVER seek a divorce from him, something I can't honestly promise. Last time I tried to promise like that, it was used against me as being a liar when I could no longer tolerate his violating a particular boundary with me.

I guess because I couldn't promise him then and there, on the spot, never to ever, ever consider divorcing him ever because it wasn't worth being so mean to him and losing the respect of his children (his exact words) and forever afterward being considered an evil person, he's been treating me like a second-class citizen ever since that conversation Monday.

And, if that wasn't bad enough, he's begun being cruel to our DS8. Oh, and everything that the DS8 does wrong is because of MY horrible parenting and if I'd just let him be in charge (I do, he just doesn't see it that way) then DS8 would finally be the perfect little boy with no problems in the world. Since, DS8 is NOT perfect, H found it acceptable to yell at the boy saying that when DS8 uses a (very annoying, I agree with H that far) screetchy voice because he was mad, H could just squeeze his head like a pimple until it popped. This is what he told our DS8 for using a screetchy voice.

It took over an hour of talking with DS8 later to validate the boy's feelings and reassure him that his father would never do any such thing.

But, how could I answer the boy about his father when the very next day, H tells DS8 that he's sick and tired of DS8 asking when he can get back on the computer (we had an outage, it was frustrating for all, but DS8 and I had filled most of the time together) and that he could just slap the boy's face clear off. Because the boy had asked if his dad knew when the storm would be over. And, because the child finished up his father's lecture with, 'I was just saying...'. I wonder where DS8 learned THAT little gem? I don't say it. H and DSS23 both do, though. And H was right when he was yelling at DS8 only in that a person who says, 'I was just saying...' is trying to get the last word.

So, when I went to talk with DS8 in his room later, he was so angry he was seething, saying through clenched teeth that he hates his father. He always will hate his father for talking to him like that.

How in the world do I show a unified front to the child when I agree that his father's behavior is completely unacceptable? How do I soothe my boy while he's clenching his teeth he's so angry?

When I really mess up, and I have, recently, I apologize to our DS8. I sit and talk it through with him. I let him know that what I did or what I said was very wrong and that he has a right to be angry about it. I let him know my love for him is big enough to survive his anger. We talk about how I could have handled the situation better, and still got the results I required. We then talk about whatever is on his mind - he's the wronged party and he gets to drive the conversation from then out. I try to not walk away until we both are able to genuinely hug each other and be kind with each other again. It has been known to take a couple hours.

Knowing all this, when my husband made a little comment in fun, it struck me so many kinds of wrong I had to leave the room without answering. Last night, after all the drama between father and son and all the peacemaking efforts, DS8 came into the living room and 'caught' my hand. Gently, he tugged and asked so sweetly if I'd go play with him in his room that I couldn't resist! As I was about to leave the room, when DS8 was beyond earshot, H says, 'So, when do *I* get playtime with Mommy?'

It struck me wrong because this was all the romance, kindness, tenderness and/or loving I would get. It was his announcement that he expected sex that night and see what a GREAT guy he was being? All funny and sweet? He DESERVED sex after being such a stand-up guy! And I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to kick him out of the house right then and there.

After all the jibes, all the times he'd shut me down in conversation, all the times MY subject was a bore and not worth talking about, but his hobby was worth non-stop conversation, noisy equipment in the living room so he doesn't have to be 'isolated' in the room next to the living room, constant research on HIS - emphasis HIS, nobody better touch HIS computer in the living room because it's HIS and we screw it up and he looses his place on his research for his hobby!!!!!!! All the insults to our son. All the small insults to me about MY hobby - which is silent and interruptible because that is just the way it has to be - all the 'jokes' about his strong libido and aren't I a lucky woman because most men HIS age (he's only 3 years older than me) can't perform like HE does and what's wrong with me because most women over 40 are DYING to have sex ALL THE TIME and I'm even already post-menopausal so I should be just dying to have sex ALL THE TIME, with HIM because he's SO READY all the time and, and, and.....

So, he can treat me like furniture, compliant furniture, until he wants (forgive me, I want to get crude and nasty and rude ---- I'm trying to resist) sex. Then, that one little statement is supposed to make up for all that and I'm supposed to be thankful he wants me and delighted to do all the work in bed so he can get his rocks off and let me go to sleep. All the while, I have to be vigilant because he wants to violate my boundary about back-door again, and he's pushing it, hoping I won't say anything, then he can say that I didn't say no so it must have been alright when he *accidentally* takes what I have not offered.

I've been down this road before. I've forgiven the transgressions and even the absolute lack of caring. I'm ready to scream at him and tell him to go stuff himself in impossible positions. I'm ready to tell him and his rude, self-centered, lazy DS23 with him - they can be roommates if DSS really gives that much of a S**T about his father, which I doubt.

Then, h can get the nympho he really wants and they can bang until they're raw.

Then, I breathe. Then, I catch myself saying all these angry things and wanting to hurt H emotionally and I know that is not right. Then, I wonder if I am the one with uBPD. Knowing we both have uC-PTSD does not help the situation.

H would agree that HE has uC-PTSD, but not that I could, just from being neglected. Only someone who had it as bad as he did should be able to claim uC-PTSD. Those of us with charmed lives who had both parents in the home and siblings who didn't beat us up or rob us or molest us should just shut up. We don't know how good we had it and we are just big whining babies for complaining about our perfect little lives not being perfect enough.

So, I feel invalidated again. I feel like I have to stuff all my real feelings down again, just to get through another day married to this man. I feel hate growing because he thinks that we are fine as long as he's getting regular sex. It's not making love. It never was making love. It's sex to get his orgasm and then we're done. If I'm lucky, after he's 'got his', he might be feeling generous enough to actually touch me in kind ways. But, I don't even trust that, because when he's feeling generous, he thinks I ought to be generous and give him my boundary again. So, I don't trust the tenderness- it has an agenda. And, it's the only tenderness I get anymore!

And when he is cruel to our son, I really struggle with reasons to stay married to him. There is NEVER an appropriate time to tell a child that you could pop his head like a pimple. Or slap his face off. I don't care WHAT the provocation a CHILD could give a parent, it's just not acceptable.

So, am I being too easy on H, or too hard? Am I an unforgiving person, or finally learning to stand up for myself but afraid to because of the consequences?

This sounds so stupid and pathetic, but am I a bad person for feeling like I do about all this? Or am I a bad parent for allowing this to happen to my DS8?

I feel like I have to choose between staying married and being a good parent. The thought terrifies me. I am going to have to accept that there will be pain, all of us will have pain if I divorce H. All of us may have pain even if I don't! Which pain is more damaging?

20 steps backward again.

Three Roses

You're not imagining things, it sounds bad there. Your H needs to not be abusive to your son, and if he won't stop on his own, imo you need to take matters in hand. Otherwise, how are you not complicit in what H does and says?

Whether those steps are counseling individually, or as a family, it seems as tho you'll be the one to have to instigate it. Also, imo, unless you at least try to work this all out in a mutually agreeable way, you'll regret it later and most likely repeat the pattern in your next relationship, if there is one.

And please do not put his name on the deed. In my state, inheritances are not community property. The house is yours and you should do everything you can to keep it that way. If it were his, I'd tell him the same thing. But, unless he gets help I'd rather be rid of him anyway I could, and if that meant selling the house, so be it. 

My marriage was much this same way for 27 years. To my everlasting regret I - we - raised our sons in a toxic environment. I will never, never advise anyone else to do the same. I see the problems our kids have now as adults and I know I'm partially responsible, and that hurts like *. Please don't do that to yourself.

Wife#2

Three Roses - thank you for putting it out there as it really is. I am complicit in the toxicity if I don't leave - or kick H out - to protect our son.

It really is that simple. All the talking to DS8 and validating his feelings when he's angry with his Dad - or me! All the hugs and conversations and time spent together, just DS8 and me. All the plans we make together. None of it means c**p if I let the child remain in such a toxic environment.

I don't even know what keeps me there anymore. It isn't for DS8's sake - though I won't let him say it to me, I think he's ready to not have Dad there full time. It isn't for DS23's sake - though I did tell myself that for a while. Seriously, DS23 can move out any time he wants, he has the resources. It isn't for my sake - allowing this marriage to continue is only making me more miserable, too. I keep conceding things I don't want to concede, thinking that's what a good wife does, then resenting him for putting me in the position to have to concede those things.

I already know I can afford it - though I'll be pretty broke. I already know the courts will be in my favor, just about down the line. I already know that, though things will be different, DS8 will be able to adjust quickly.

So, what holds me there? Fear of the unknown (better the devil you know than one you don't)? Fear of genuinely hurting H? Fear of the drama of the divorce process? The folks at OOTF can help there, many have been through divorce with an undiagnosed PD person. In some respects, what they've gone through DOES scare me! Trying to co-parent with a man who will use every opportunity to vilify me and cut me down in front of our son DOES scare me (I know this to be true, he did it with first wife, as soon as he got custody of the kids). But, is that good enough reason to keep on keeping on in all this toxicity?

How can I ever heal when neglect was my * and my H continues to ignore my wants, needs, contribution? How can I be a better parent to DS8 if I don't try to heal?

Three Roses

 :hug:

Not easy, either way!

Sometimes I look at posts I've made and think, "what the heck was wrong with me!", sometimes I sound so blunt and not at all gentle, like I mean to.

Hindsight is so clear, tho - and I'd feel like a heel if I didn't at least try to save you some of the pain of what I know I went thru.

My thoughts and best wishes are with you, Wife2. <3

Wife#2

Three Roses -no apologies needed! Sometimes, especially if I'm trying to sink into a good old pity party, I need a swift verbal kick in the brains to dislodge me and get me seeing things. You were NOT too rough, honestly!

Plain is good, you didn't cross the line to cruel. And I thank you again for putting it in language I couldn't dance around, not even in my own head. THANK YOU!!!!!  If after all this time I haven't seen that you are one of the most gentle with other's hearts, I am more blind than my husband. And I'm not, thankfully. Blind that is.  :bighug:   :yourock:


Wife#2

Well, I'm still there. Funny, but H accused me of talking in my sleep recently and I'm beginning to believe him. Since all this went down, H has been on his best, kindest behavior. He's still found ways to let his displeased opinion be known, but that's to be expected, it's his home, too! At least he's been far more polite about it.

NOW, it IS hard to kick him out. I lost the momentum of my anger on that post. It really was like someone flipped a switch and H began to understand that I might not leave him over MY issues, but I'll sure as h*ll leave him over what he does to DS8. And nobody will stop me next time.

Maybe I *did* talk in my sleep. I can only guess what I've been saying. But if it's working, well, that could be good. I don't know. I really do hate being so wishy-washy. It would be so much easier if H would just be a great guy all the time or a jerk all the time - pick one and stick with it! Ugh.

Danaus plexippus

That's not how his game works. Flipping from love bombing you to eviscerating you is how he keeps you off balance, confused, STUCK! I used to talk in my sleep too. In affect I had no secrets from my husband. He's dead now and has taken all my secrets to his grave. When I consider hooking up again, one of the top ten questions I have to ask myself is "Am I ok with this new person hearing what I say in my sleep?"

Wife#2

Danaus, that's a very good point. If I ever (let me try, when I finally) leave this man, I doubt very strongly that I'll remarry. I may date, but I don't see myself having the energy to court or be courted again.

Right now, I have too much work to do on me to think about bringing someone else into a relationship.

However, I won't keep my heart closed to the idea - should a healthy potential partner show interest.

Wife#2

OK, something is on my mind, won't leave it. I keep flashing back to something that happened when I was a small child, about 8 years old. I know what triggered it - a commercial on television. But, the memory and the emotions keep coming back hard.

Ok, so the incident is not as bad as one might think. It didn't even happen to me. But. Ok. No more stalling.

As a kid, I hung out with a friend, who was allowed to roam her neighborhood unattended, just like I could. We were in her neighborhood. A friend of her grandmother saw us and over time befriended both of us children. She was a very kind, nice woman.

One of the days I was over with my friend, we happened across Ms. Gem (not her real name). She was walking her small dog on a leash. It was a chilly day. I wanted to be helpful and she looked so cold. She, Ms. Gem, must have been in her late 60's or older.

Anyway, I offered to take her dog's leash for her, so she could warm her hands in her coat pockets. I remember as we walked along that I looked up at Ms. Gem and couldn't help but love the woman. Then, her dog took off, having seen another dog. I lost control, but not the leash. The dog was around Ms. Gem's feet before I knew it. Then, down went Ms. Gem, directly onto her face - her hands were still in her pockets.

I still can hear the sound, hear the dog yelping, hear myself screaming for help. I was afraid to touch Ms. Gem. She wasn't moving. I was sure she was dead. My friend ran to get her grandmother. I can feel the cold wind, see the blood coming from where her face still lay on the pavement. All I think during the flashback is MY FAULT, MY FAULT.

Ms. Gem did survive that fall. She died in her sleep about two weeks later. But, nobody could console me or convince me that Ms. Gem's eventual death hadn't been caused by that fall that I caused by holding Ms. Gem's dog and encouraging her to put her hands in her pockets.

I was afraid to visit Ms. Gem at her home. I didn't want to make it worse by crying in my guilt to the one I'd hurt. Eventually, I couldn't even go visit my friend, because I had to cross the street near where the blood could still be seen. Then, I didn't even need the blood to accuse me. I couldn't visit because it was too close to where I'd killed Ms. Gem. My friend's grandmother tried to talk to me to ease my guilt, but I just nodded and politely said, 'Yes, Ma'am, I know.' never really believing that I hadn't caused her death.

When we moved to another state the following year, I couldn't have been happier. I'd lost my friend over the change in my attitude. In fact, I'd lost most of my friends by then.

I don't think I've talked about that, or the guilt I carried because of it. I'm living proof that you can tell a kid they didn't cause it, but you can't convince a kid they didn't cause it. Especially if the 'it' is something bad.

I'm going to have to work through this one. Maybe it's time for a funeral for guilt over Ms. Gem's death. And a funeral for missing out on the grieving I didn't do then. Thank you, Sans, for the idea of the desk-top funeral / memorial service.

Wife#2

*** Mild triggers - language and strong emotions *** REALLY long post - good, but long.

Ok, so I was in the tools and reading some of the excerpts from the Pete Weller book. It was the affirmations for dealing with dis-regulating. As I was reading them, I realized that I have a hard time internalizing any of those thoughts. It was frustrating just to read them, because it was hurting my own feelings. I know they should be true. I know they can be true. I have a hard time finishing either of those sentences with 'of me'.

I have an amazing strength, I know this about myself. I realize that others might have given up in the face of what I've been through. Yet, that's not how I feel most of the time.

My inner critic had something negative to say about all the affirmations. Typically, something along the lines of - yeah, except you WON'T! or 'You're too lazy to do that'.

Just reading them, I found myself wringing my hands. That's a habit I started I childhood when dealing with things that felt too big for me. Looking at myself wringing my hands, I EF'd back to 6th grade. The year my parents split up.

I had been placed in the gifted & talented English class. That was no surprise in my family, we are all smart and if we tried at all, we'd excel. Even me. For my little ignored heart, that still felt like I had NOTHING that was about ME. Nothing that was special, worthy of my parent's attention. Until I started acting out in that class. Only that class. My grades plummeted and a parent/teacher conference was ordered. That conference was ALL about me. It was bad attention, but it was attention. I hated it because I couldn't defend the bad attitude towards the teacher or the lack of effort in the classwork. I hated it because my parents expressed only disappointment in me.

The teacher did, but not my parents! So, while she sat there, sincerely hurt about my acting like I hated her, sincerely upset that it was in HER class that I chose to fail, sincerely trying to explain to my parents that she KNEW I could do better, I sat there wringing my hands, shoving my fingernail into a ring that was just big enough to resist the fingernail a little, into the little pattern, over and over and over again. Because no amount of her explaining could get through to my parents that their behavior was in part responsible. THEY were failing me as parents. I was BEGGING for attention the only way I knew. But, they were both so preoccupied with their own issues and emotions that the couldn't see my pain. They were only honest enough with the teacher to tell her that there was trouble at home. But, at 12 years old, I should be old enough to understand and handle it better than THIS.

The whole time I spent wringing my hands, sticking that fingernail into the design on my ring, I kept thinking to myself, F*** them, they don't get it. They don't love me. F*** them. I clamped my teeth together. I looked down at my ring. I heard everything they said. I think I flinched a time or two, when the teacher asked why I hated her (I didn't, she was nice, I just literally did choose her class for all this) and when my parents spewed their disappointment.

This was the only way I knew of coping with the hurt, sadness, anger and loneliness of the year of their fighting and eventual split. My heart-mother sister was out of the house by this point and my brothers were dealing with things the best way THEY knew how. One got high, the other got drunk (at 14, yes). I wringed my hands and poked my fingernails in the spaces of my ring.

To this day, if anyone who really knows me, like my husband, catches me wringing my hands, they know it's a bad sign. What he hasn't learned yet is that I will NOT be forthcoming if I've already reached the place of wringing my hands. I have already shut down because, in my experience, nothing fruitful will come of my stating my opinion or telling my feelings. I have closed into my mental castle and pulled up the drawbridge.

I've just had a thought that is very sad. I have just realized that it was around this time, when I flunked out of G/T English in 6th grade to get their attention, that my father began to doubt anything I strove for. This is when he started acting like I was a failure and would keep being a failure. When I succeeded, he was and to this day IS genuinely surprised. When I failed, that was the status quo for me.

Looking back over the relationship I've had with my father since 6th grade, every decision he made, every lecture he gave me, every disappointed glance makes sense. He would tell you that he's proud of me. He would tell you that he's always been worried about me more than the other kids (he's told ME both things). He would deny believing that I am nothing but a big failure, but his treatment of me proves that to be a lie.

7th grade - I'm the only child still in elementary school. My parents are separated and divorcing. We've been moved out of the family home because Dad is gone and Mom can't afford it alone. Dad is already dating a woman who would become my step-mother. The kids are only one and two years younger than me, but while the parents go out (on my visitation weekend - he goes on dates), I'm left in charge. One afternoon, Future-Step-Bro is in the front yard, I'm in the living room, Future-Step-Sis is in her room, reading. We are at Future-Step-Mom's house. FSB has been playing on his bike, doing something stupid that I'm sure will get him hurt. He ignores me (I'm nobody to him) and eventually DOES get hurt. When the parents return, it's my fault that this kid I barely know broke his arm playing a stupid, dangerous game. I'm in trouble because I didn't stop him. I'm a failure at keeping FSB & FSS safe. I'm never left 'in charge' again.

8th grade - I'm in middle school. The band director remembers my talented bro and hopes the same of me. Even though I'm only in 8th grade, he brings me and 7 other students to the high school to march in the Sr. High School band. I know I'm only an adequate player of my instrument, but I'm honored by his faith in me. My Dad comes to get me at the high school after practice one of the few times he actually remembers I'm there. He sees that the director has placed me in the front of a large line of marchers during a complicated maneuver. Practice ends and as I run to my Dad, excited that he's there, I overhear him ask the director what he was thinking putting me in that position! I was crushed. After that, I didn't mind so much that he rarely came to see me march - I would have been so nervous I probably would mess up, confirming his theory that I was the family f***-up.

In 8th grade, I got into my first fight with another student. My parents found out immediately because the teacher who broke it up went to our church. Rather than talk to me about controlling my temper or learning how to defend myself, the only thing I remember my father saying about the whole incident was that he was embarrassed that I would do that at school. No discussion about why I felt like I had to be in a fight (the girl had written b***h on my shirt because I had said I hated smokers - thinking of my mother, not my fellow 8th grader who smoked).

Summer between 8th & 9th grade was when I was nominated for the state school of Math & Science. I've spoken about that elsewhere in this journal. Mom didn't really believe that I'd make it, but she encouraged me anyway. Dad didn't want to waste his time (or mine, so thoughtful) even trying, he believed so little in my ability.

Also, summer between 8th & 9th, I was also nominated, by that same science teacher, for a 2-week summer camp. I was even granted a scholarship to attend. Honestly, when the teacher told me he'd nominated me, I told him there was NO way my parents would pay for that. So, he made it happen. That teacher had a faith in me that to this day I don't understand. I certainly wasn't a star student in his class. But, he tried to make a lot of good things happen for me.

Anyway, Dad was busy getting engaged. He couldn't be bothered to take me to the camp or bring me home. Mom couldn't help that she got a job in another town and moved while I was at camp to take the job. The only reason I didn't have to leave camp early was that Dad would have to bring me back to HIS apartment until Mom finished the move, then I would go home. I was allowed to stay at camp the whole two weeks. And Dad had just decided to allow GC-Bro to move in with him, so he didn't have the room.

From then on, Dad knew less and less about the actual goings-on in my life. He was busy with his new fiancé then wife and her two kids. And GC-bro. And planning his wedding. And planning a move two states away for a great job. He still had his visitations, every other weekend. But, the distance was forming. He was pulling even further away. He had too much going on to even really listen to his teenage daughter.

One thing I have learned is that people tend to freeze in your memory the way you remember them before a separation takes place. My oldest sisters still saw me as 9 years old, because that's when they saw me last on a regular basis. For heart-dad Bro, it was 13 years old. For GC-bro, it was 15 years old. For heart-mom Sis, I was my age until she died. She was the only one who made efforts to see me regularly after the parents divorced. For Dad, I was still 12 years old, failing out of G/T English, the role being set for me as the family F-up.

I'm still fighting the evidence of that. My head hurts. This was a huge, HUGE insight for me. I've been inching towards it for a while now. To stare it in the face and not flinch away, wringing my hands, is very hard.

Time to sit with this for a while. Time to make peace with it. Time to realize that THIS is the reason I don't really like talking with him on the phone, why I feel like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs when I visit his house. I do feel like he's just waiting for me to give him MORE evidence of what a failure I am, so he and his wife can nod and say to each other, 'Yes. It's true. Wife#2 is a failure, just like we've been saying for years. So sad, so much wasted potential with her.'

Well, at least I've stopped wringing my hands for the moment. There is that.

Wife#2

Dumb side note - last night I was at home. It was a stressful evening - as usual. uBPD h & DS can't be in the same room together for 10 minutes before someone is not nice to the other. So, I asked DS to head off to his room, I'd be in there in a few minutes and we'd play cards or read together. DS leaves the room. I can feel my face pinch and I look down to realize that I'm wringing my hands. Again.

H follows my eyes and realizes that I'm wringing my hands. He forgets that at that point, I'm going to 'Everything's fine' him to death before I answer what's really bothering me. Because I don't want to have THAT fight again. THAT fight changes nothing, no matter HOW many times we have it. And DS had a bad day at school. The last thing the little fellow needs is his Mom and Dad fighting again.

So, I was grinding my teeth and probably talking in my sleep last night. It was a bad night. DS had a bad night. We were both too grumpy this morning and we clashed. I tried to sooth things back to normal, but I won't know until tonight if I succeeded in getting DS's day back on track. Mine is certainly NOT back on track.

Dutch Uncle