The pre-emptive smear campaign

[Candid]

This post has been moved from Blueberry's Loyalty thread. I set out to demonstrate that I understood her situation -- and discovered I had a lot to get off my chest. How come I have no FOO and precious few extended family members? Here's why:

Mother and one sister smear-campaign pre-emptively, ie. telling whoppers to anyone they think I might talk to about them. As one hideous example out of many, I reconnected with an aunt (Mother's sister) when I returned to my birthplace from Australia. Blow me, almost the first thing out of Aunt's mouth was: "[Mother] doesn't know why you're not talking to them. She thinks it's because they took you out of [the school I attended in England until we migrated]."

I was floored. Speechless. Flabbergasted.

I had gone NC with Mother (and by extension, my dad) right after The Most Horrible Event -- the so-called 'mediation' that turned my hair white in a matter of weeks. There'd been no mention that day of our migration 22 years earlier, much less of my old school. Migration was indeed a traumatic time for me, losing familiar town, extended family, friends, pets... but even at 13 I knew it was what my father considered best for the family. Desperately homesick as I was, I never made a murmur about something my parents, my elder sister and I were all going through at the same time.

In order to preserve her reputation, Mother had chosen to make me look like a petty, grudge-holding, spoiled brat. I was over 40 and had a good career when, having heard I was going back to the town where Aunt lived, she came up with this 'theory'. The Most Horrible Event had occurred when I was 35. I can still get steamed up  knowing this kind of thing has been spread around the extended family -- and that they believe it. Of course they do. Mother started letting them know I was "difficult" before I could speak. Poor Mother, she's had so much to contend with, and all of it came from me.

I've never once talked smack about any family member. I've never defended myself. After Aunt's bombshell I said: "Mother knows exactly what she did" and left it at that. It was a miracle I could say anything at all.

I'm convinced nothing I can say or do will redeem this caricature of me in the minds of extended family members.  The mircale is I no longer care. Fawning is horrible, makes matters worse. I no longer approach them, but if they approach me they get the current version: largely healed since NC with all FOO. It wouldn't have been my choice, but that's how it is -- and I now see it was a good thing.

All three of my siblings came to me when they hit a crisis

Elder Sis was first, and I can see I was the only person she could have come to. As teenagers we were best friends as well as sisters, and I know there's still a lot of love between us. She abandoned me for her own mental health when I was at my lowest ebb.

Younger Sis was next. She cost me time off work and money I couldn't afford, then dumped me as soon as her trouble was sorted out. Her subsequent collaboration with Mother led to my first psych hospital admission.  (She managed the second on her own, and via the internet.)

GCbro came last. He was still living with our parents and I was at the other end of Australia. I'd flown to their city for his 21st party, after which he told me he was gay. For about a year afterwards I put two letters (no email back then) in each envelope to him: one he could show Mother (because he had to ) and one acknowledging his excitement over each new potential mate he was meeting. "The two clever ones" had a great relationship until my last contact with him, which hurt and saddened me. I had the gall to say so in writing, and he promptly dropped me as well,

Where I am today

It's taken me a very long time to deal with this, squirming when new contacts want to know about family. I know how to handle that now. I know where all FOO members are and, broadly speaking, what they're doing. Most people stop at that. If it goes further, I'm happy to say I haven't seen Whoever for years. The final line, if necessary, is "I'm not comfortable talking about this" -- and I can sit through the silence that follows. Anyone who pushed the point would be crossing the line into the red zone; hasn't happened yet and seems unlikely, but would definitely and the friendship.

Sticking to the facts is the key.

I've always loved all my FOO members and I always will.  Dad is gone. He was more of a support to me than the others knew. Mother and Younger Sis ... I can genuinely wish them well now with the hideous problems they have.  No longer any anger whatsoever towards ElderSis and GCbro. I was homeless, jobless and entirely on my own when they stopped contacting me, and I went into the too-hard basket. After all, they grew up in the same dysfunctional family as I did.

This sounds sad, but isn't. I can love from a distance and it feels so much better than the grief and rage I carried for so long. I still get sad and angry, but I can self-soothe out of it. Distance is another major key. I needed a lot of geographical distance, was always on the run and made a mess of people's address books (they told me so). I don't let myself dwell on the harm that did to career, finances and relationships; I had a lot of adventures. Getting right away from FOO helped a lot, but a far bigger factor was distancing them in my head. If there's any interest in that I'll elaborate, but this post is already too long.

Pre-emptive smear campaigning started early for a lot of us, and I know how damned hard it is to shut it out while we're struggling with self-esteem.  I want people to know it isn't the life sentence it seems.

[Three Roses]

Words fail me so

[Candid]

Thanks, Three Roses.  A post of yours about your niece (?) helped me articulate the 'loving from a distance' bit.

[Hope66]

Hi Candid,

I was interested to read your thread, and glad you put it in a thread of its own, so you could do it justice.

You mentioned that if there was any interest in how you managed to 'distance them in your head' that you'd elaborate - I would be interested to know how you did that, because I find that I ruminate all too often about my FOO, and often 'can't distance them in my head'.  So if you're still ok to write more, I'd be interested to hear how you have tackled that part.  Thanks in advance 

But for me, the frequency and amount of time spent ruminating has got better over time, so I guess it is better than it was.

Hope 

[Blueberry]

Hi Hope,

I did something today in therapy which stopped the ruminations right away. I don't do EMDR, I put emotions, memories etc on a screen. Well, today T suggested that I put the words and voice of one of my abusers on the screen. Lo and behold, the disturbing sentence disappeared and I was left looking at an old woman who has no relevance in the particular issue whatsoever! I don't think my T had been expecting such a big and quick change, but it worked! Don't know if that makes sense to you.

Maybe Candid can tell us more.

[Hope66]

Hi Blueberry,
That makes sense, and thanks for that suggestion - I shall certainly try it out.  Thank you!  Glad it helped you - and was such a quick effect.
Hope 

[Candid]

But for me, the frequency and amount of time spent ruminating has got better over time, so I guess it is better than it was.

It took decades for me, Hope. It's only in the past couple of years that I realised I needed to get them out of my head.  It's not that we forget what went on or stop thinking about them -- witness my posts here -- but that we've challenged what they said about us, and we realise that because of their own thoughts about us, they will never know Who We Are.  That's their loss, right? 

Thinking about them is fine. Letting them speak in our heads is also sort-of okay, as long as we guard against believing it. IMO the only reason we have them in our heads post-NC is because we love them.  I keep in mind that that makes me a good and loving person.  I didn't go NC with Mother because I hated her; I did it for my own sanity.  My biggest regret in life is organising that family 'mediation'. I did it for GCbro, but that's another story.  My hair colour segued from 35 to 80 almost overnight; and the aftermath was the closest I've ever come to suicide.

It can also be said that I needed Mother to expose herself in front of witnesses before I would accept that I had no choice but NC with her.  It was no longer 'just me'.  Someone else was aghast that any mother could speak that way to and about her own child; and that ElderSis demanded a private audience with the mediators so she could dish the dirt without me hearing it.  Unfortunately that validation didn't come until I fled to therapy and the T suggested I contact the mediation centre.  It would have saved my hair and months of agony to have heard it on the day or soon afterwards without having to ask for it.

I've had a lot of validation IRL. If I catch myself ruminating on what Mother taught me about myself, I STOP! and think of the people presently in my life who love me and show it.  They know the Candid my mother never knew and never can know.  The beauty of this is the enormous impact it has on how I think about myself. 

For me, it's not enough to stop them speaking in our heads.  We also have to work on self-image.  My trauma isn't so much about what they said and did as about having to cut off the people I love.  I truly award myself a gold medal for what that says about me.

T suggested that I put the words and voice of one of my abusers on the screen. Lo and behold, the disturbing sentence disappeared and I was left looking at an old woman who has no relevance in the particular issue whatsoever!

That sounds amazing, Blueberry! 

[Hope66]

Hi Candid,
I really appreciate this response and it's really helpful to hear what you said.  Thank you.  I am incorporating the suggestions that you and Blueberry have given me - and I feel it will help me a lot.
Having validation from people who understand, it's a precious thing.
Hope 

[Blueberry]

I've had a lot of validation IRL. If I catch myself ruminating on what Mother taught me about myself, I STOP! and think of the people presently in my life who love me and show it.  They know the Candid my mother never knew and never can know.  The beauty of this is the enormous impact it has on how I think about myself. 

Beautiful post here, Candid! 

[Candid]

Having validation from people who understand, it's a precious thing.

As far as I know it's the only thing that will eventually stop us thinking we must be horrible people -- so horrible that our own mothers recoiled.  When it starts as young as it did for me, what could I possibly have done to make her so vicious towards me?  The adult me understands it was her problem, but we all know about blaming the children we were for not knowing what we know now. And so it goes on.

People with good-enough parents self-validate automatically. They literally can't understand why it's an issue for us, and they'll show their impatience. We have to learn it, but first we have to unlearn the auto-reject when other people say good things about us. You know how it goes. What do they want? Are they being sarcastic? Are they laughing at me?  IMO it's impossible for us to self-validate until we've actually been able to hear and absorb the good things other people say.

More than one of my early boyfriends was able to tell me where I was going wrong, but of course they couldn't tell me why.  It took my first therapist to pinpoint Mother, and with hindsight I know she spotted it at the intake interview. She knew exactly where she was taking me.  She made it explicit about week 3 of 6; it was 'crisis' counselling.  I had permission to call her between sessions, and that was the only time I did.  I was hysterical. She calmed me down, reassured me, said "see you next week".  So I walked in next time all cover-up bravado, and said: "I'm so sorry about that. I don't know what happened."

She said: "You lost your mother last week. That's what happened."

If only it had been that easy!  I was 26.  I'd been dutifully attending weekly dinners at my parents' home.  A digression here:

I was already geographically removed from their town, "for work reasons".  Every week my father collected me from the train station; after the one occasion on which my train was late I had to call him first then wait about 20 minutes for him.  They complained because I held up dinner.  Father was ready to drive me home soon afterwards.  And every week, according to ElderSis, he walked back in shaking his head and saying: "That girl drinks too much." 

Yeah. I did. Dad was very liberal with the booze.  Don't know how many weeks he held up an empty, grinning, and said: "Old Candid's finished another bottle." Like it was a joke.

I couldn't face the Thursday nights, called my parents to say so some time during that six weeks.  Then I had new problems: mostly Dad calling me to say Why aren't you coming? You've upset your mother.  Mother called at least once.  She was angry, venomous.

That was the least of it. The pre-emptive smear campaigning began. She knew the secret was out, and who knew what I might say?  I still don't know how she got in the ear of a woman I worked with, but she led with her worst.

It was another eight years of LC until the 'mediation', after which I went NC with Mother.  Then the general smear-campaigning in the extended family became apparent. I'd been a "difficult" toddler.  From my side, it was endless attempts to get mother to like me.  I already knew she didn't.

How's ElderSis?
Oh, she's an angel. Mummy's little helper.
And Candid?

Even though ElderSis has three years on me, she was bathed first and I had her bathwater afterwards. She was always clean, I was always dirty.  It's possible this became objectively true as each of us struggled to be what Mother wanted.  ElderSis was perpetually "ill" because Mother wanted to play nurse with her.  Me? She would give a rueful shake of the head and tell me: "Should have been a boy."

I know, Ma.  That would have been perfect.  That's what you wanted.  I get it. I did my best.

I still have a reputation in the extended family for "making a scene" even though I've never actually made one.  I know this resonates with Blueberry, too.  Having been on the other side of the world from most relatives for decades, I'm far more likely to annoy them with fawning behaviours and general awkwardness.  I missed my cousin's wedding because my parents were holidaying here and I would "make a scene". (I probably wouldn't have gone.  It would have been a tough call.  I don't know -- but it would have been nice to have been invited.)  While H and I were separated he was told he couldn't attend my aunt's funeral as he wanted to, again because I would "make a scene".  My parents were 12,000 miles away but my reputation had stuck.

Yes folks, I'm hare-trigger set to start hysterically yelling expletives at a funeral.

Fight all this while crippled with self-doubt and fawning behaviours that turn everyone off? Impossible. Run, Candid, run -- and keep running. More than 40 addresses in 60 years, three countries and seven towns, not counting travel and Other People's Spare Rooms. As the saying goes, you still have to live with yourself. Or not -- an idea considered many times but now completely out of the question.

I am not the person she said I was

... and finally, gloriously, I know it.  I'm home -- not geographically, because obviously nowhere is home to me. The tortoise is my symbol.  No one I know can roam so freely, pack so efficiently, settle so quickly.  True, my shell is battle-scarred.  I'm a visual offence and I don't care (I used to care a lot.)  People delight in my company.  I delight in my own company.

No reputation-repair necessary.  Blood relatives of Mother's see what they expect to see.  One of them delivers trite little homilies, the kind of stuff you see in greeting cards. The pampered pussycat can claw at the tortoise all it likes; this tortoise smiles, says "yeah", and ambles on untouched.  I get on fine with the extended family. Really, no one but me is interested in my inner world.  It's my little secret.