Tag Archives: toxic family dynamics

mental health, narcissists, politicians, politics, psychology

The more I think about Enough…

Please excuse today’s title. I use a headline analyzer on this blog, which turns green when I come up with a “good” title for SEO purposes. I probably ought to ditch that particular blogging tool, because I think a lot of the headlines it thinks are “good” are actually crappy. Like, yesterday’s title, which is literally what the post was about, got a “yellow” rating rather than green. But I think yesterday’s title is better than today’s, because what you read is what you get. On the other hand, maybe the tool is pushing me to write cryptic titles for my blog posts.

I’m writing today’s post because I can’t stop thinking about Cassidy Hutchinson’s book, Enough. It’s not because I think it was a great book. I’ve read much better books. I’ve also read much worse books. It’s not the writing or even the basic story that has me so intrigued. I think it’s the bizarre phenomenon that propelled Cassidy Hutchinson into the position she’s in today that has me ruminating on her book.

I mentioned in yesterday’s review that I think Cassidy Hutchinson has some “daddy issues”. I believe part of the reason she fell into the MAGA movement is because she was seeking a connection with her father. I also think she might want to work on that with a psychotherapist.

I don’t mean to sound condescending, because I know my suggestion that Cassidy seek therapy probably comes off that way. I also want to make it clear that there is absolutely NO shame in seeking therapy. I’ve done it. Bill is doing it. It’s been absolutely life changing for Bill, and when I did it years ago, it was life changing for me, too. In my case, therapy helped me recognize and treat lifelong depression, which I now know is a genetic issue. I know this because I know others in my family have struggled with depression, and 23andMe even verifies that I’m at a higher risk of depression. In Bill’s case, therapy has helped him explore who he is, and ease the complexes he’s struggled with all of his life. He also really likes his therapist, just as I really like mine– although he’s now my friend, rather than my shrink. 😉

I am making this suggestion from a place of empathy. I’ve had dealings with narcissists and I know the damage they can wreak on a person’s psyche. If Cassidy Hutchinson was my friend, and we had the kind of relationship in which I felt I could be totally honest with her, I would strongly encourage her to see a psychotherapist. I would do so, even if her actual father wasn’t an extremely right wing MAGA nut.

I think being exposed to a toxic narcissist like Donald Trump for as long as she was can cause serious mental health issues. Add in the fact that she was raised by a man who insisted that his daughter be a “warrior” and berated her when she cried for legitimate reasons, and you have someone who has learned to suppress her own good sense in favor of the wants and needs of the crazy. There are quite a few examples of this behavior in Enough. Moreover, Trump was certainly not the only narcissist Cassidy Hutchinson had close dealings with during her work with the MAGA folks. Narcissists are masters of mind fuckery, and it can take some time and effort to unpack that shit. Trust me, I know firsthand.

At the beginning of her book, Cassidy Hutchinson thanks her stepfather, Paul, for being her “chosen father”. Based on her book, I would agree that Paul is a good man, and it’s good for her to lean on him. However, also based on her book, it hasn’t been that long since Cassidy realized that her real dad isn’t someone she can count on. In fact, at the very end of her book, she’s gone to his house to speak to him one last time, only to find that he’s vanished… and he never told her that he was going or where he would be. She then declares herself “free”. But I’m not convinced she is. Check out these passages from her book. I’ve bolded the toxic behavior from her dad.

In the very first paragraph in Chapter 1 of Enough, Cassidy Hutchinson writes about how she and her dog, Abby, waited for her dad to come home from work. She writes:

Barefooted, I sprinted down our long gravel driveway alongside Abby as the trucks came into sight. Dad led the caravan in his white 1992 Ford pickup truck. Slowing down, but not coming to a complete stop, he would open the passenger door for Abby and me to hop in. We would belt “Black Water” by the Doobie Brothers and Glenn Miller’s “Chattanooga Choo Choo” at the top of our lungs as we drove to the back of the property, where Dad rested the equipment for the evening.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 3). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

She explains that her parents weren’t big believers in doctors or hospitals, so her mother gave birth to her at home. They found a holistic midwife to help deliver Cassidy on December 12, 1996. She further explains that her mom is the eldest of seven. She never really knew her father’s family. Her mother’s mom was a very hard worker and taught her to look at things other people overlooked. Then, when Cassidy was four years old, her mother got pregnant with her brother, Jack. While she and her mother were snuggling in bed one night, Cassidy found out that her middle name was Jacqueline, after Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. I think it’s interesting that Cassidy was named after the wife of a legendary Democratic president, yet she fell into the Trump regime.

After 9/11, when she was five years old, Cassidy’s father took her turtle trapping. This was where she watched her dad and some friends obliterate a turtle in front of her. Cassidy was completely traumatized by what she watched them do, which was abject animal cruelty. She writes:

On our drive home, I told Dad I never wanted to go hunting again. Dad nodded. “That’s fine, Sissy Hutch,” he said. “But just so you know, warriors are not afraid to hunt. If you want to be a warrior just like Daddy, you must learn to hunt, Sissy. What you saw today is the circle of life.”

Dad always talked about how he was a warrior, and I wanted to be one, too. I knew how important it was to be a warrior. But I didn’t want to be a hunter, at least not yet. I decided to become a vegetarian.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 9). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

Later, when it became clear that Cassidy’s parents were going to divorce, the idea of being a “warrior” was presented again, when Cassidy had an accident and her dad wouldn’t take her to a hospital.

…Recently, I had been injured while I was in the yard with Dad and his employees. The yard was junked up with machines that Dad had taken apart to fix, but he had not gotten around to finishing the projects yet. I was out back with Abby and tripped over a machine part and fell on an old lawn mower blade.

Mom had begged Dad to take me to the hospital for stitches, which I probably needed. The cut was deep and bled more than I thought I had blood. Dad thought Mom was being ridiculous. Working with Dad made me stronger, and warriors don’t get stitches for little cuts and bruises. I was just happy that Dad still thought there was a chance I could be a warrior, even though I had decided to become a vegetarian after the turtle incident.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (pp. 11-12). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

Cassidy’s parents said they were going to move to Indiana. Cassidy’s dad brought a moving truck to the house, but wasn’t around to help pack or load it. Cassidy writes:

…At one point, I saw Mom muscling our baby grand piano through the house on her own. I scolded Mom to stop—she was going to hurt herself, and that was a project Dad should do, since he was the strongest person in our family. Mom lowered the piano onto the ground and calmly walked over to me.

She was slightly winded as she told me that the biggest mistake a woman could make was to think she couldn’t do the same thing as a man.

Mom walked back to the piano before I could respond. I watched her maneuver that piano right out of the house and hoist it into the moving truck by herself. Mom repeated this process with every large piece of furniture we were bringing to Indiana.

Dad wasn’t the strongest person in our family after all.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (pp. 12-13). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

So… Cassidy has described her father as a man who doesn’t trust people in authority, abuses animals, abandons his family when they need him, and neglects his daughter’s medical needs. And yet, throughout her book, she continually goes back to him, hoping he’ll be someone different. She also describes other men she knows who are more forthright and responsible. Her dad doesn’t like guys in the military, and avoids Cassidy’s Uncle Joe, who is in the National Guard and has bravely fought for his country. But Cassidy admires him, and she enjoys life in Indiana with her mom’s relatives. Her father puts an end to that carefree existence when he declares that he can’t leave Pennington, New Jersey. They sold their new house in Spencer, Indiana and moved back to Pennington.

Cassidy dad, who had told her “warriors don’t cry” when five year old Cassidy watched him blow up a turtle and when she’d fallen and hurt herself due to his negligence, was sobbing over the idea of moving to Indiana. And there was Cassidy, consoling him… as if she was his parent.

Through the window, I watched Dad wringing his hands and sobbing. He walked over to the pool and laid flat on the diving board as he continued to cry. My heart hurt so much, I could not wait a moment longer to be with him, so I ran outside. I asked him what was wrong, but I could not understand what he said. Mom was frozen, like a statue, and did not say a word herself.

Eventually I understood enough of Dad’s words. He could not do it, he said. He could not leave Pennington, the only place he had ever called home, to move to Indiana. Dad’s chest was heaving as he tried to calm himself down. Mom went to tend to Jack, since I had irresponsibly left him alone inside to console Dad.

I sat on the edge of the pool next to Dad and dangled my feet in the water. I rubbed his leg and tried to reassure him that everything would be okay. We would never leave him behind in New Jersey.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (pp. 13-14). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

To add insult to injury, Cassidy’s parents had rehomed Abby before their temporary move to Indiana. She adds that she had lost many pets because of her dad and his whims.

When Cassidy was eight years old, her father presented her with a four wheeler. Her mother didn’t think it was a good idea, but Cassidy’s dad insisted that she needed to learn to ride. Without so much as a proper helmet (she had a bike helmet), Cassidy and her dad took off on their four wheelers. What could possibly go wrong?

Cassidy hit an ice patch and wound up pinned under the bike. Her dad came over to help her, then asked if she was hurt. When it turned out Cassidy hadn’t been seriously injured, he said:

“See, Sissy. You’re not hurt, you can move perfectly fine. Now, get up,” he ordered, as he kicked the bottoms of my snow boots again. I screamed that I hated him, and that surge of anger gave me the strength to get out from under the four-wheeler. As I staggered to my feet, Dad effortlessly flipped my four-wheeler upright.

I screamed again that I hated him. Dad did not say a word as he twisted my key back in the ignition, roaring the vehicle back to life. He told me to sit down. I was trying not to cry, but my face was so numb, I did not know how successful my efforts were. I sat down, and Dad started walking back to his four-wheeler. I screamed a third time that I hated him.

Dad turned around. There were two deep lines etched between his eyebrows, and I saw his jaw clench. Almost immediately, his expression softened, and a smile grew across his cheeks. “Sissy, I helped you. What would you have done if I wasn’t here?” he asked, in a syrupy tone. “Warriors are self-sufficient, Sissy.”

“I would not have been on this stupid thing if you were out plowing, where you should have been anyway!” I screamed. Dad spun around and stormed toward me. In one swift movement, Dad ripped my key out of the ignition and chucked it overhand across the field. “You better find that key before it gets dark, or you will not find it until spring,” he instructed. Then he stomped back to his four-wheeler and sped away.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 18). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

She easily found the key, but purposely waited before leaving. She didn’t want him to think she hadn’t had to look for the key. She worried it would set him off, or cause him to fight with her mother. Her dad worked for animal control and also started businesses, which often became projects for Cassidy’s mom. Later, he took Cassidy to the dump to search for treasures.

Cassidy writes that her father, who used to hate TV, got hooked on a new reality show, starring Donald Trump. He loved watching The Apprentice because he admired Trump, whom he claimed was a “warrior” who had built his multi-million dollar business from the ground up. She writes:

Dad fixated so much on Donald Trump. I wished he would pay attention to us like he did to The Apprentice. When I told Dad this, his dinner fork clamored across his plate and he said that Donald Trump was teaching him how to become a better businessman so he did not have to work as much. The other option, Dad said, was that he could stop working altogether. Dad didn’t think his family would like how suffering felt, and since he had worked so hard, we had no idea what it meant to suffer.

In a way, Dad was right. I did not know what it felt like to suffer—to worry about not having food in the house, or a warm home to sleep in. But I felt like we were suffering as a result of his absence. I wanted Dad to be at home with us—with his family. And I wanted Dad to acknowledge how hard Mom was working, too.

Dad was gone so much, and as Jack and I got older, it was clear to me how essential Mom was to our family. In my opinion, Mom’s work was far more important than his. But Dad was growing more sharp-tongued with Mom, and I did not want to spark an argument. When I was not at school, I tried to help Mom with household chores and caring for Jack to take any load off her that I could.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 21). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

It’s at this point in the book that I started to see how Cassidy Hutchinson was the perfect candidate for Trump’s administration. She’d been groomed from childhood to take abuse from men who were important in her life. Her father worshiped Trump, and she missed him, even though he was abusive, neglectful, and batshit crazy. So it makes perfect sense that Cassidy would come to adore Trump, too. Loving Trump was a way for her to connect with her dad.

There are more stories about Cassidy’s dad and his abusive and neglectful parenting style. Cassidy clearly loved her father in spite of his unpredictable behavior and insistence on turning her into a “warrior”. She worked very hard in an effort to appease him. But her efforts never seemed to be enough for him. As his antics became more bizarre and sickening, Cassidy writes that she’s started to realize he’s toxic– especially when he gives her and her brother two deer hearts, both still warm and dripping with blood.

When she was in high school, Cassidy’s mother went away for the weekend with Paul. She was taking care of her brother while her friends were spending the night. She was feeling sick, with a pain in her gut. Her mom told her to call her dad, who offered to perform surgery on her. Cassidy drove herself to the emergency room. She writes:

Not much time had passed when the doctors determined that I needed an emergency appendectomy. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital room with Mom and Paul standing over me. Mom was sympathetic at first, apologizing profusely for not listening to me sooner. But then her temper flared. She said that I had been reckless for driving myself to the hospital in my condition and that I should have called Dad. I needed to be less stubborn, she said.

I wanted to tell her that I had called him, but there was no point. It wouldn’t change what had already transpired, and I didn’t want Mom to feel bad. Plus my story was much more fun to tell because of it.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 33). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

When she got waitlisted at Gettysburg College, she thought about taking a gap year. But then she visited her Uncle Joe in Stuttgart, Germany. That’s when she decided to go to Christopher Newport University:

Late one night when we were visiting Joe and Steph in Stuttgart, Germany, Joe crept into the bedroom that Mom, Jack, and I shared and motioned for me to follow him outside. He asked if I was considering a gap year because it was what I wanted, not Mom. I considered his question before shaking my head no. He nodded, and then asked if I had heard where his next duty station was: “Williamsburg, Virginia. Fort Eustis. Didn’t you apply to a school near there?”

I had. Christopher Newport University.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 35). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

I feel it’s important to note– Fort Eustis is in Newport News, which is also where CNU is. Newport News is a very different place than Williamsburg is. 😉

At her high school graduation:

Dad was standing outside the fence with a few of his buddies. “Sissy Hutch graduated high school!” he shouted, and whistled loudly to summon me in his direction. I cringed, and with a glance appealed to the rest of my family. And then I walked over to Dad.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 35). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

All I’ve written about so far is just from the first part of Enough. The rest of the book is a study of what happened to Cassidy after she finished high school. There are many stories of her calmly accepting what men tell her she should do– everything from getting blonde highlights in her very dark hair (one of Trump’s suggestions) to ignoring mask mandates during a dangerous pandemic. Some of the men she encountered were good people with her best interests at heart. But a lot of them were selfish and abusive– highly polished versions of her father. And it just seems to me, reading Enough, that Cassidy was searching for some kind of bond with them… a substitute for her real father, who is clearly not a well man. This paragraph kind of sums it up for me:

Hundreds of Trump supporters gathered outside the airport gates, but my eyes locked on just one. Dad. He was wearing his formal clothes—a purple Ralph Lauren polo, dark wash jeans, and sneakers. His hair was neatly combed and thick with pomade. One of his arms was extended toward the sky, waving dramatically. He held his cell phone in his other hand, video-recording the motorcade. Our SUV rounded the corner, and I was close enough to see the lines on his face, the divot and tan line on his ring finger. I saw pride in his wide smile, too. Pure pride.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 160). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

She continues:

Most of the cars and supporters had cleared out, including Mom. But not Dad. He was still there, still smiling, still waving frantically at the motorcade. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard that my mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (pp. 160-161). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

And…

Throughout the day, Dad sent me dozens of texts with videos of the motorcade, pictures of homemade signs people had brought, voice notes saying how proud he was of me, and that he wished he had seen me through one of the windows. “My Sissy Hutch, the Apple of My Eye, with the President… you work so hard, Sissy…,” one message read.

We were flying to our final rally of the day when I received one last video from Dad. It was of the C-17 aircraft that transports the motorcade vehicles, taking off against a stunning sunset. I stopped watching it when I heard Dad sniffle and begin to talk. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. In a way, I preferred his cruelty. I was proud of the life I was building, but I couldn’t risk contaminating that life with the confusing, conflicted reality of my past. He had never shown up before, I reminded myself.

But he had that day. For a moment, I acknowledged that the shame I felt was not Dad’s fault, nor was it Mom’s. I was desperate to fit in the world that I had worked hard to become a cherished member of, but below the surface I felt displaced and undeserving. I did not know how to marry the two worlds I loved dearly: the world I came from, and the world I now lived in.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 161). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

On January 6th, Cassidy is still planning to move to Florida. Her mother begs her to reconsider her move. She writes:

I feel physical pain when I see the Capitol dome as I cross the bridge into Washington. I want to scream, but I feel paralyzed.

I don’t turn on any lights when I enter my apartment. My body is on autopilot as I walk from my front door to the living room. I collapse onto my couch, staring at the ceiling. I feel my cell phone vibrate. It’s Mom and Paul.

Mom is crying. She’s begging me not to move to Florida. Paul interjects, trying to defuse the argument before it begins. He doesn’t realize how little I care, how far gone I am.

My tone is flat, uninflected. “I have to go. I’ve already committed. The boss needs good people around him. The only reason today happened is because we let bad people, crazy people, around him. I need to try to fix—”

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 219). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

Cassidy still thinks it’s the people around Trump who have caused this mess. And worse, her savior complex, coupled with plain old egotism, cause her to think she can FIX Donald Trump, when other people, presumably older and wiser, couldn’t. She continues:

“Cassidy. Listen to yourself.” My mom’s tone shifts to parent mode, and I dissociate even more. “This isn’t you. You know better than this. You can’t fix him. You know you shouldn’t go. Listen to me, Cassidy. Listen to me…”

I hang up and put my phone on Do Not Disturb. Heavy, loud sobs escape from my chest. I have to go, I have to go…

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 219). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

Even though Cassidy has seen the horrors of January 6th and they make her “sick”, she thinks that she can make it better and than Trump needs her. She doesn’t think of what she needs. It’s the same kind of thing she experienced with her father. She doesn’t seem to realize that she can only fix herself, and that is what she should focus on.

At the end of the book, Cassidy seems to have come to a conclusion about her dad…

Dad was never very fond of holidays, even when I was young. But for some unknown reason, there have been certain holidays when I’ve felt compelled to check to see if he was home. There was never a holiday I found him at home. I never knew where he was, but I also never asked. And I never told him I did this.

The pragmatic and optimistic scenarios were the same, year after year. His truck would either not be in the driveway or it would be. If it wasn’t, I would keep driving. If it was, I planned to stop, and hoped he would welcome me inside.

On Thanksgiving Day 2022, my optimistic scenario was that his truck would be in the driveway, and that he would agree we could talk.

As I approached the house, the first thing I noticed was not that his truck wasn’t in the driveway. I noticed that other cars were.

And a U-Haul. And small children.

I slammed on my brakes in front of the house, unsure what to do.

But what I had to do was clear. I had to keep driving.

I drove until my breath choked my lungs.

He left without notice, without a goodbye or a new mailing address.

He was gone.

I stopped the car and let my tears fall, until no more remained.

Hutchinson, Cassidy. Enough (p. 352). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

I’d like to remind everyone that, as of this writing, Thanksgiving 2022 was less than a year ago. Moreover, Cassidy Hutchinson has been through a lot since June 2022. So, if she was a friend of mine, I think I would tell her that she might like to seek therapy. I think it would do her a world of good. And I think it’s too bad she didn’t consider joining the military to become an officer. She seems very well suited to the work. She has a strong work ethic, a sense of right and wrong, and a willingness to put up with a lot of shit, particularly from men. She’s approachable and works well with others. Apparently, she’s willing to work for low pay, too.

In a weird way, I see some similarities between Cassidy Hutchinson and Monica Lewinsky. They were both young, ambitious, brunette women with significant issues with their parents, who eventually got tangled up in scandals with US presidents. Granted, Monica grew up with a lot of privilege– much more than Cassidy had. But if you read up about her upbringing, you find evidence that her father was abusive and neglectful. They both worked in the White House, got close to very powerful people, and wound up fodder for the paparazzi. I may have to explore this more in another post. This one has gone on long enough. 😉

Anyway, I hope Cassidy Hutchinson does get some support in the wake of publishing her book. I think she’s going to need it. Especially if Trump winds up finally being held legally responsible for all he’s done.

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family, mental health, music, psychology

“It may be no big deal to you, but it’s a very big deal to me…”

Back in 2007, when Bill and I were about to move to Germany the first time, I picked up Lyle Lovett’s then new album, It’s Not Big, It’s Large. That album had a great song on it called “No Big Deal”. Although I haven’t listened to that great album recently, I am reminded of Lyle’s song, “No Big Deal”, as I write today’s post. Below are the lyrics, written by Mr. Lovett himself…

It’s Sunday morning, the club is on
That great cat’s still yawning
Because Saturday is gone

And I still feel the feeling
Of how you felt upon me
And it may be no big deal to you
But it’s a very big deal to me

You were down and dirty
And he was tall and twenty nine
And I’m only disconcerted
Because you said you knew I wouldn’t mind

But I still feel the feeling
Of how you telephone me
And it may be no big deal to you
But it’s a very big deal to me

But you can’t make a cool cat crazy
Like you can’t make a gray cat brown
And you can′t keep a wild cat
When she knows the wildest cat’s in town

So it′s Sunday morning
Yeah and I guess I had a coffee
Ooh ’cause I start recalling
A time I went astray

And I still feel the feeling
Of her last words of warning
She said, “Man, it may be no big deal to you
But it’s a very big deal to me.”

She said, “Man, it may be no big deal to you
But it’s a very big deal to me.”

Lyle says this is a morning song…

Lyle says he wrote this song years ago, while crashing on his friend Robert Keen’s couch in Nashville. I’m assuming he means Robert Earl Keen, the great songwriter. They’re about the same age. Anyway, Lyle is an earlier riser than Robert is, and he had this song in his head. I have a feeling someone in particular inspired it. Maybe Lyle was hurt by someone he thought was a better friend or lover to him than she actually was. And maybe he’s hurt someone who loved and trusted him, only to be betrayed.

This morning, I saw yet another AITA (Am I The Asshole) post that inspired me. This time, it was about two brothers who are no longer on speaking terms. Granted, I understand that a lot of these posts are made up, but I think this one is very plausible, because I hear about people doing this kind of shit all the time. Have a look:

This is a story about two brothers. Five years ago, the original poster (OP) had a girlfriend of three years. His older brother, Kevin, had an affair with her. The original poster found out about the betrayal and was very upset. He broke up with his girlfriend and moved back into his parents’ home. The post doesn’t mention if the two brothers were sharing a place, but my guess is that they must have been living together. Why else would the OP move?

The OP showed the proof of the affair to his parents, obviously expecting them to take his side. But, after a month, the parents started pressuring the OP to make amends with Kevin, who had started coming over to their house to apologize. The OP, still hurt and angry, rebuffed his brother, and was even more hurt and angry when their parents and his ex girlfriend tried to pressure him into getting over his pain on their timeline, and on their terms. The end result was that the OP decided to go “no contact” with his brother and his parents. Fair enough.

The OP stayed in touch with a cousin, who was keeping him apprised of his grandmother’s fragile health. She got very sick and was in the hospital, so the OP went to visit her. He ran into his brother, Kevin, at the hospital. Kevin tried to speak to him, and the OP acted like his formerly close older brother didn’t exist. The end result is that Kevin got so upset that he tried to overdose on pills.

Naturally, their parents were very concerned and they begged the OP to forgive Kevin, which he refused to do. The OP’s parents said they missed their family unit and desperately wanted their sons to reconcile. The OP claims he doesn’t care about them anymore, even though despite having gone “no contact”, he gets his parents’ messages to him. Then he asked if he was the asshole.

I was pretty triggered by this post.

(skip this if you’re only interested in the AITA post)…

Those of you who know me, might know that Bill has two daughters. For many years, both of them, plus his former stepson, were very estranged. When they were children, this estrangement was 100 percent Ex’s doing. She refused to let them have contact with Bill, because he dared to accept her divorce proposal. For this transgression, she believed he should lose everything, including his daughters and his parents.

Back in 2006, when older daughter was about 15 years old and younger daughter was 12, they wrote letters disowning Bill. The letters were obviously coached, and younger daughter later confirmed it. She said her mother stood over them and made them hand write the letters that she dictated. Then she photocopied the letters and sent them to Bill, along with adoption papers and several boxes of Bill’s belongings. All of this arrived just in time for Bill’s 42nd birthday.

I distinctly remember that older daughter demanded that Bill sign adoption papers so that #3 could adopt her and her sister. She explained that she wanted an “everyday daddy”, and warned that if Bill didn’t do as she demanded, she would never speak to him again. Both girls also addressed their natural father– the man who changed most of their diapers, took care of them when they were very young, and paid pretty much all of their bills– by his first name.

Seventeen years later, older daughter has been as good as her word. She doesn’t speak to Bill at all. Both she and younger daughter changed their surnames– again, at Ex’s behest. They probably got adopted, too, once younger daughter turned 18.

Younger daughter eventually came around and now she and Bill talk all the time. Bill hasn’t yet worked up the nerve to ask her if she’s been legally adopted. However, clearly, younger daughter thinks of Bill as her father, even if she is legally one of #3’s heirs. As for older daughter, who knows? She refuses to have anything to do with Bill.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I heard that when Bill’s father died in November 2020–older daughter’s beloved “Papa”– older daughter felt entitled to attend his funeral. She and Ex, who had hatched all this toxic bullshit in the first place, were sitting at their home, grieving over Bill’s father’s death, thinking they had a claim to publicly mourn him at the funeral. They wondered “what it would be” for them to get to attend the funeral.

Uh…FIL was in their lives because of Bill, who was his only son. Older daughter disowned Bill, changed her name, and probably got legally adopted. What the hell right does she have thinking she’s still in Bill’s family? Her paternal grandparents are now #3’s parents, not Bill’s parents. She voluntarily opted out of the family when she decided to disown her natural father. If she got adopted, then legally, the most she is to Bill’s family is a friend. That doesn’t automatically entitle her to be at family events, like funerals. Getting legally adopted by your mother’s third husband is a very serious thing, and it has very serious consequences.

As it turned out, my father-in-law’s funeral wasn’t well attended by anyone, because it happened during the worst of the pandemic. Not even Bill could attend his dad’s funeral, due to the lockdowns and travel restrictions. I’m pretty sure Bill’s awesome sister pretty much put the kibosh on Ex and older daughter being there, anyway.

Younger daughter told us that she tried to reason with her sister and said, “Why would you assume you’d be welcome at the funeral after the hostile way you’ve behaved toward them? You haven’t had a real relationship with them in years.”

But then in the spring of 2022, Ex showed up at Bill’s stepmother’s house in Tennessee with older daughter and her daughter with #3. SMIL, still grieving and lonely, welcomed them into her house. During that visit, Ex asked SMIL for money, and proposed that she move in with Ex up in New Hampshire. When SMIL demurred, Ex gave her some boxes and said she could use them to pack up anything she wanted to “pass down”.

Um… excuse me? YOU ARE NOT IN BILL’S FAMILY ANYMORE, EX. And that is 100 percent YOUR doing. Older daughter followed your lead, so she’s not in the family, either. She’s a 32 year old woman who is apparently smart enough to be in graduate school, studying in a mental health field, of all things. She’s old enough and intelligent enough to understand that when you go no contact and do extreme things like disowning people, changing your name, and getting adopted, the sword can cut both ways. You don’t get to dictate how people react when you take extreme measures against them. And no, you aren’t entitled to an inheritance– especially from the family you threw away!

Please don’t misunderstand me…

It’s not that I don’t think people have the right to go no contact, particularly if it means protecting their mental health. I absolutely agree that sometimes going no contact can be the healthiest thing a person can do. But if you’re going to go no contact for your health, I think you should really commit to it. That means that you don’t contact people who are close to those you’re ostracizing.

If older daughter is happier and healthier being #3’s daughter, so be it. But she has no business trying to connect with Bill’s family, if that’s really how she feels. That’s still Bill’s family, and he was there first. She was in that family in the first place because of Bill. Bill is the one who made “Papa” her grandfather. Moreover, cutting Bill off because he agreed to divorce a toxic, abusive, narcissist who actually PROPOSED the divorce in the in-laws’ home on Easter, does NOT make him the asshole!

Bill would love to talk to older daughter, and I would never try to stop him from doing so. But frankly, I wouldn’t blame him if he decided to counter going no contact with her. Keep in mind, though, that I’ve never been a parent, so I honestly don’t know what parental love and devotion feels like. I also have a much lower tolerance for abuse than Bill does.

Of course, the way I think “no contact” should work isn’t how it ends up working for a lot of people. Humans are complicated, and the majority of us form relationships with other people. Sometimes you can cut someone off completely and there won’t be any messiness. But when it’s a family member and you have any kind of connection with other family members, things can get very complicated in a hurry. Not everyone is going to agree with you that going “no contact” is the right approach, and they won’t all take your side and share in your extreme decision.

If you still have a connection with those people, you will continue to have a connection to the person with whom you’re trying to go no contact. So really, what you have is more of a toxic “low contact” scenario, which personally, I don’t think works very well. If you feel so negative about someone that they need to be completely cut out of your life, but then you hang around their relatives, you WILL still be in contact with them.

I think Ex is okay with that. She never lets anyone go, and never intended to leave Bill’s family or their marriage. She doesn’t want to be no contact with him, although she’d never lower herself to sincerely apologize for ALL of the things she did (Bill takes full responsibility for his part). She thinks his family is still her family, just as she thinks what belongs to other people belongs to her.

That’s why she felt entitled to invite herself–and US— to Bill’s dad’s house for Christmas, back in 2004. If I were to drop dead tomorrow and she heard about it, I bet she’d try to hoover Bill. She’d be quite shameless about it. I’ve seen her in action. She thinks he’s weak, and the only reason she can’t have him is because I control him. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Back to the post in question…

Based on the original post that prompted this entry, I get the sense that the “no contact” decision is fairly new (five years can pass in a flash, once you’re over 21). The OP has only fairly recently cut off his family. He has every right to be pissed at Kevin and his ex girlfriend. What they did was very hurtful. He also has a right to be angry about what happened with his parents, if that’s how he feels.

However, I also think the OP is being pretty self-centered. His parents weren’t the ones who slept with his girlfriend. Kevin is their son, too. Obviously, Kevin has mental health issues of some sort, which means they believe he needs their support, even if he’s “toxic”.

I don’t know if the suicidal gesture was a genuine attempt, or if it was just Kevin trying to be manipulative. While I think any suicide attempt should be taken very seriously, I also notice that Kevin used a less lethal method of making his attempt.

It sounds really morbid, and I’m sorry for that, but men have a tendency to use more violent means when they attempt suicide. Statistics show that women are more likely to attempt suicide, but men are more likely to die from suicide. While people absolutely do die of overdoses, it usually takes some time for that to happen… time that would allow them to be discovered and taken to a hospital. Based on the AITA post, that’s what happened in Kevin’s case.

It’s certainly not the OP’s fault that Kevin overdosed. He’s not responsible for Kevin’s mental health or lack thereof. Not knowing the people involved, I can’t tell if this behavior is one of a long string of issues that made the OP finally decide he was done, or if this behavior is new. Sleeping with your brother’s girlfriend is pretty toxic stuff, although obviously, the girlfriend shares the blame in that decision. Maybe the OP dodged a bullet, thanks to his brother. Good that he didn’t marry the girlfriend. She probably would have been unfaithful.

It sounds like the overdose was, perhaps, Kevin’s way of forcing the OP to “rock bottom”– as a means of showing him what he was “throwing away”. That was another one of Ex’s tactics… and it was very shitty, manipulative, and totally disrespectful. She did it to Bill (not through a suicide attempt, but through deliberately causing huge problems), and later, she did it to younger daughter (that time it was an overdose– “suicide attempt”).

The concept of “rock bottom”, by the way, isn’t about causing catastrophic problems for the target. It’s about forcing them to deal with their “bad” behaviors without enabling them. So, if the OP or Bill were drug addicts, for instance, their friends and loved ones wouldn’t give them a place to stay, buy them food or clothes, or bail them out of jail. That would be helping them to reach “rock bottom”, where they might finally realize things are so bad that they have to change their lifestyles. Feigned suicide attempts and trying to get the family to ostracize or pressure the target are not what “rock bottom” is about. That’s just toxic manipulation.

The part I think the OP is missing is that his parents are stuck in the middle of this mess. They just want peace and harmony, and it’s hard to take sides, especially when it means choosing between sons. The OP is punishing his parents for loving Kevin, which is only the natural thing for normal parents to do. He’s their child, just as the OP is. It’s not fair to put them in a loyalty bind. In fact, the parents should stay out of this, as it’s not really their business. Moreover, the parents did let the OP move in with them, even though he was a grown man when this happened. He repaid them by demanding that they take his side in a situation that should have stayed between the actual people involved.

OP certainly has a right to his feelings and his responses to those feelings. However, he should realize that other people also have rights to their feelings and responses. If the OP wants to go no contact, that’s fair enough. But he shouldn’t be upset when he runs into his brother and parents, if he’s also going to stay in contact with cousins, grandparents, and other people in the family. That’s going to happen, particularly at family events like weddings and funerals or visiting someone in the hospital.

If the OP wants to go no contact for his mental health, he needs to be “all in” and really go no contact. Otherwise, he’s just as manipulative and toxic as they are, and this is just about him being vindictive and punishing his brother and his parents. Personally, I think it’s pretty sad to throw away a brother and two parents over a cheating girlfriend… but maybe it’s part of a larger pattern, in which case going no contact makes a lot more sense. If OP had been married to the woman, that would be more serious, in my view.

My verdict on this situation? Everyone sucks here. They all sound like they need to grow up. Unfortunately, in these kinds of family messes, ultimately fixing the issue usually isn’t up to just one person who suddenly decides to be mature. A group effort is necessary. On the other hand, someone does have to take the first step. I would hope it would be taken in a healthy way, and not in a manipulative, dramatic, dangerous way, like overdosing or staging “interventions” that blame the victim.

What Kevin and the girlfriend did may not have been a big deal to them, but it was a very big deal to the original poster. He’s not wrong to be angry about it… but he might want to reconsider if shitcanning his whole family is really the best response. Because if he really wants to be no contact, that’s what it’s going to take.

On a side note… when I typed in “men suicide attempts”, Google wanted my location.

Standard
communication, family, memories, mental health, narcissists

That’s not really how I remember what happened…

Bill left for Bavaria yesterday afternoon. Before he left, he made me lunch and started the dishwasher. I swear, I have the loveliest husband. It makes me wonder if people think I’m a shrew. It seems like the best guys end up with the most complicated women. A lot of very kind, considerate men are pretty co-dependent, meaning they go to extremes to people please and not speak up for what they want or need. There was a time when my husband was a lot like that, although he’s definitely much better now. He’s been seeing some great progress in his work with a Jungian therapist, but I also do my best to reassure him that he doesn’t have to be a people pleaser to keep me in his life.

I’m not lying when I say that Bill is a very considerate guy. However, I don’t think he’s like that solely because he’s desperate to keep the relationship going. I think he knows full well I’m not going to leave him. I truly adore him, but I also know that if we ever did break up, I’d probably end up living in a cardboard box. 😉

The truth is, Bill is a very service oriented person. He genuinely enjoys taking care of people. I am the lucky recipient of his attentions, and our relationship just works. That is an amazing thing. It’s a great thing to still be able to laugh heartily with your spouse after almost twenty-one years of marriage. We really miss each other when we aren’t together.

That was the mindset I was in last night, as I tried to decide how to spend my evening. I was watching political videos on YouTube, but they were annoying and distressing me. I can barely stand to listen to Donald Trump speak, never mind the rest of the idiots who comprise today’s Republican party, even when what I’m watching is a critical video. YouTube now has so many ads to get through… it can be a very frustrating exercise to make it through any commentary video. Even the really good content providers– the ones who have scored product endorsement deals– are annoying these days. You get the YouTube ads, plus their plugs in the videos.

I ended up looking at the movies I downloaded to see if I could find one I hadn’t yet seen that would appeal. I decided to watch The Eyes of Tammy Faye (2021), which is a dramatized retelling of Tammy Faye Bakker Messner’s life story. I remember watching a documentary by the same name that came out in 2000 or so. The documentary was interesting, although I haven’t seen it recently. I remember Jen from Fundie Fridays praising the 2021 movie, which was why I downloaded it some months ago. So last night, I decided to watch the movie, which was very good and surprisingly moving. I mean, at the end, I had a lump in my throat. Tammy Faye seemed like a genuinely Christlike person. What a shame she got tangled up with Jim Bakker.

Then during the credits, Tammy Faye’s daughter, Tammy Sue, sang a song her mother had made famous. I was absolutely delighted by Tammy Sue’s voice. I’d heard her sing before, but it was when she was much younger. The song she sang for the soundtrack of The Eyes of Tammy Faye was really beautiful. And anyone who knows me, knows that I don’t issue those kinds of compliments easily.

I was feeling pretty good as the credits rolled. I noticed the time. It was about 9:30 PM. I wondered if maybe I might like to watch something else, when I got a private message from one of my sisters. She was writing to let me know that she was thinking of going to a birthday celebration for our mom next month. It’s being arranged by my other two sisters.

The day before my own birthday last month, I was invited to attend, but the notice was too short. And… well… I just don’t enjoy family gatherings much. They’re too toxic for me. The last thing I want to do is spend thousands of dollars and fly eight hours to spend several days fighting with my relatives. So, I declined the invite.

My mom later told me that she’d asked my sister to invite me, even though she knew I wouldn’t come. I have repeatedly explained to her why I don’t like our family gatherings. They usually require a few days of recovery, and often add unpleasant fight memories to the big bank of them I already have in my mind. But even if I wanted to go to Virginia, it simply isn’t feasible during the summer when I have to arrange for Noyzi to be boarded. The Hundepension books up quickly for summer dates, especially in August. We also just took a big vacation, which cost a lot and used up a lot of Bill’s leave.

Sometimes I feel sad that I don’t want to go home anymore. I do love my mom. I love my sisters, too. I just don’t want to be around them all at the same time. It always devolves into traumatic episodes. Most of the time we’re all together, and we’re alone and not, say, at a family reunion with the extended family, there’s a big fight. I haven’t had one of those in a long time. I don’t miss the fights. But I do wish we all got along better. It would be nice if we could. It’s not only up to me.

The last time I did a “reunion” with the immediate family was at Christmas 2003. I’ve written about the incident a lot. It marked a turning point for me, and what I’m willing to tolerate, now that I’m an adult and have the freedom to opt out of the drama. The short version of the story is, my sister– the one who messaged me last night– asked Bill and me to give her a ride to our parents’ house. I reluctantly agreed, but I told her ahead of time that if there was a fight– no matter who started it– we would be leaving. If she was okay with that, we would give her a ride. She agreed.

We went down to Gloucester, and sure enough, there was a fight. It involved me and another sister, who criticized me for talking about Ex. I had only been married for a year at that point, and I was still shocked and amazed by how incredibly toxic Ex is. So I was talking about it, and my sister proceeded to sanctimoniously lecture me, even going as far as to tell me about how important it was to “be a good Christian” and forgive Ex (as if I really care about that). Naturally, that really pissed me off, because I thought it was mean, discounting, and disrespectful.

Bill and I were also relegated to a very uncomfortable pull out couch in the “office” in my parents’ former home (a converted garage). I had started my period, and was feeling yucky, and now I was angry with my sister for chastising me. I decided that I just wanted to go home.

The sister who had gotten a ride with us had other plans. She wanted us to take her to Williamsburg, where there are lots of outlet stores and restaurants, and drive her around all day. Bill and I had no extra money for shopping at that time, so we couldn’t shop with her. Also, having spent plenty of shopping days with my sister, I knew the day would involve watching her put salespeople through their paces, until she either ran out of energy or money. I wanted no part of that, so I reiterated that we were going to go home the next day.

She then immediately tried to talk Bill into changing my mind, which he wouldn’t have been able to do even if he’d actually wanted to do that. It occurs to me that it’s another level of disrespectful for my sister to actually think my husband would listen to her over me. He shares a bed with me! She must have a pretty low opinion of me to assume Bill would want to please her over his own wife.

The next morning, my sister was still in bed as we were loading up the car. I told her we were going to go. She proceeded to throw a HUGE tantrum. She was screaming at me like a petulant child, and had the nerve to try to make demands. I remember looking at her and calmly saying, “You’re not in a position to make demands of me. It’s my car, and I want to go home.”

She started yelling about needing to dry her hair so she wouldn’t catch a cold. She stomped out of the room to get the hair dryer. I realized that waiting for that would mean she’d be in my car for several hours, angry and rude because she hadn’t gotten her way. I turned to Bill and said, “Let’s just go.” And we left. My other sister later laughed about that incident and said my temper tantruming sister had been furious that we’d left her in Gloucester. But then, apparently, she’d said something indicating that she was impressed that I had a backbone.

At first, I was really upset about leaving my sister. But then, after about a half hour or so, I calmed down and realized that what had just happened was another major victory for me in the fight against being abused and manipulated by my family members. We got home without incident and had a much better time in our own space, and in our own bed. My sister resumed speaking to me about a year later.

The following year, when Ex tried to manipulate me into agreeing to spend Christmas with her at my father-in-law’s house, I had the strength to say no. It was because of what had happened the year prior. I realized that I didn’t even want to spend the holidays with my own family members. There was no way in HELL I was spending it with my husband’s ex wife in my in-laws’ house. And although there was tremendous pressure to surrender to Ex’s delusions, I found the nerve to do what I wanted to do– stay home… which turned out to be the right thing to do. I can pretty much promise that if I had attended that Christmas with Ex, it would not have gone well. And it’s not because I wouldn’t have tried to be civil, but because she’s a narcissist who has to have everything her way.

Back around 2015, I was thinking about this chain of events while chatting with my sister. I thought she might be mature enough to talk about it. I even tried to frame that incident in a positive way. Ultimately, what happened at my parents’ house in 2003 was a good thing, because I finally stood up to people who had manipulated me my whole life, and left me nursing deep psychological wounds. Because I did that, I had the strength and wisdom not to give in to Ex’s crazy demands.

It was a monumental decision for me to refuse to attend that Christmas with Ex. That decision might have even been instrumental in making sure my marriage to Bill would be successful. Because if I had given in to Ex and attended that Christmas, there might have been a huge fight… or, even if it had gone “well”, she would have have a precedent to suggest doing it again. The definition of the gathering’s “going well” would have entailed my keeping my mouth shut the whole time while Ex made disrespectful comments to Bill and me, monopolized everyone’s time, and hovered over Bill’s visitation with his kids.

Who’s got the time and the money for that experience, especially since no one going to that fiasco, except Bill, even liked me? Why would I want to spend time and money, on the biggest holiday of the year, in that miserable situation? Ex is a NARCISSIST, and her aim is to control everyone. Those who can’t be controlled are jettisoned. My being there would just give her information and supply her with fuel. Or, it would tempt me to commit a felony. 😉

In 2015, I had wanted to explain all of this to my sister. I wanted to tell her that the fight we had in 2003 had, in a weird way, actually turned out to be constructive for me. But, when I brought it up, she got very angry… and she framed a narrative that I didn’t recognize at all. She made herself the victim of the whole thing. According to her, our other sister, who had lectured me about talking about Ex, was the one who should have been “punished”, not her.

She conveniently forgot about the HUGE tantrum she threw, complete with insults and swearing. She was entitled to speak to me that way, because it wasn’t her fault that there had been a fight between me and our sister. But I had told her from the get go that if there was a fight– and I didn’t care who started it— I would be leaving. She had agreed to those terms. And when the fight happened and I tried to enforce the terms we agreed upon, she tried to change them. When that didn’t work, she became toxic. And when I refused to acquiesce to her tantrum and left the house without her, she became pathetic. When I wanted to talk about it with her in 2015, she got mad at me for reminding her of that painful incident in which she ended up having to take a bus home. She plainly considered herself a victim. And when I told her that our other sister had said tantrum sister been “proud” of me for leaving her, tantrum sister turned that into a victim situation, too. She denied saying that, and blamed our sister for “telling lies” to me. (Um… I don’t think she lied…)

Well, last night, tantrum sister brought up that 2003 era fight again. She was ranting about our mother and our sisters, telling me outrageous stories about crazy, “toxic” things they have supposedly said and done to her over the past few years. Granted, if there is any truth to what she said, it is pretty fucked up stuff. However, experience has taught me that this sister has a very skewed view of things. She embellishes and twists and takes things out of context. And she ALWAYS makes herself out to be the aggrieved one.

Tantrum sister never mentions her part in these conflicts she has with others. In her stories, she’s always the innocent victim, being “picked on” by everyone else. Once again, she blamed our sister for being “toxic” and causing her to be punished. I didn’t bother trying to tell her that– no– she got left in Gloucester because of her decision to throw a huge tantrum when things didn’t go her way. Yes, the fight with our other sister had set up the reason why I wanted to leave early, but she had to take a bus home because of HER bad behavior and blatant and disrespectful attempts to manipulate Bill and me.

I have learned that correcting my sister’s memories isn’t a productive exercise. It will only lead to pain. I can’t change the fact that she won’t assume responsibility for her conflicts with other people. Trying to confront her over these discrepancies generally turns into a fight, and fighting with her online was the last thing I wanted to do on a Sunday night, after having just watched a good movie. So, I let her rant a bit, then told her it was getting late, and I was going to go to bed… And then I thanked God for the ocean that separates me from my sisters.

I did gently push back, though, when she started trying to tell me our mom is a narcissist, and making tentative comparisons of her behavior to Trump’s and Hitler’s. I know a thing or two about narcissists. My mom isn’t one. However… I do think that perhaps my sister could be one. She thinks she’s an empath. She’s actually said this to me and been completely serious. I know a little about empaths, too. I’m married to one. She and our mom have never gotten along. I do get along with my mom. My mom is far from perfect, but she’s not a narcissist. Sending me a birthday card with a heartfelt note in it is not an example of “love bombing”, nor do I think this is an example of our mom trying to make me into a “flying monkey”. In fact, our mom mostly tries to stay out of conflicts; she doesn’t create them.

Why am I writing about this? It’s mainly because it helps me keep the craziness straight. My sisters must think I’m stupid and the easiest target for gaslighting because I quit trying to offer my perspectives. But no, I’m not stupid… I have an excellent memory and normal intelligence, and I remember very well what happened at Christmas in 2003. We each had a part in that fight– that is, two of my sisters and me (the eldest wasn’t involved, because she was smart enough to book a hotel room).

In 2003, I should have known that I can only talk to my sisters about innocuous things like the weather (although even that topic is becoming contentious these days). My being upset about the shit Ex was pulling when Bill and I were newly married in 2003 wasn’t something my sisters wanted to hear about, and they felt quite free to tell me to STFU and demand that we sleep on an awful pull out couch for two or three nights while I bled from my private parts. That tells me that I don’t need to waste time hanging out with them. They don’t even treat me with as much respect as they might treat a friend. I don’t think any of them would choose me for a friend. And the reverse is also true. I don’t think I’d pick any of them, either.

See… I would hope for sisters who are good friends and care enough to listen to me when I have struggles, just as I would listen to them. Instead, they just want me to show up and shut up, so the whole family is together and it looks nice. When the conversation is about something they don’t want to talk about, instead of asking to change the subject in a respectful way, they resort to criticism and lecturing. Quite frankly, I don’t value their company enough to have them tell me what I can and can’t talk about, or demand that I look or behave in a certain way. So, I’ll just stay away, thank you very much.

My sister told me she doesn’t really want to go to the “birthday bash” next month. For my mom’s sake, I think it would be good if she didn’t go. But my mom would like her to be there… because in spite of what my sister thinks, our mother does love her and is proud of her. She’s hoping that, for once, there will be a nice visit with three of her daughters and the grandchildren. Maybe it will happen. Experience has taught me, though, that this “bash” may actually end in blows. Especially if there’s any booze involved. I’m glad to stay in Germany and just hear about what happened later. 😉

Oh… and by the way… it’s also not lost on me that this sister probably shit talks me, too, with our other sisters. However, I can’t control that, so I don’t really give a shit. I’m just gonna tune out.

Standard
family, lessons learned, mental health, narcissists

Narcissists force their victims to “punish” healthy people…

A few months ago, someone in my husband’s family friended him on social media. It was someone my husband hasn’t had a chance to get to know well, so Bill was excited to be Facebook friends with the person. But then, a few hours after friending Bill, the person abruptly unfriended him with no explanation whatsoever.

Bill was non-plussed. What had he done to offend this person? Bill hardly ever posts on social media, although he has admittedly become a lot more politically and socially liberal than he used to be. He also makes no secret that he’s no longer a believer in organized religions, particularly Mormonism. That means he freely curses, drinks alcohol and coffee, and laughs at ribald humor. Did the person look at Bill’s page and decide it was too “raw” for him? He didn’t know.

Although Bill was a little bit sad that this person he’d wanted to know had unfriended him with no explanation, he eventually figured it wasn’t him with a problem; the person who’d unfriended him had the issue. Life went on, and he pretty much forgot about the incident until it was brought up again by a mutual relative.

The mutual relative said that the person had decided to unfriend Bill because of Ex. The person realized that by having a connection with Bill, Ex would possibly have a connection with us. So Bill was unfriended, not because he was “offensive”, but because the other person wanted to spare Bill from offense by keeping Ex out of our sphere. And I suspect, it was also because that person likewise didn’t want any trouble from Ex.

I appreciated hearing that explanation, although I wish the person had thought to send Bill a private message or an email to let him know that the unceremonious “unfriending” wasn’t because of something Bill had done. Bill is a kind, empathic, and thoughtful person, so the truth is, he is a bit sensitive about being liked by others and not wanting to upset or offend them. But then again, when it comes to social media, I guess a lot of people feel that no one really owes anyone else an explanation. That’s one aspect of social media that I don’t like very much. Many of the “friendships” aren’t very authentic, and a lot of them have replaced what used to be “real” relationships with other human beings.

I was recently unfriended by two people with whom I had once hoped to be offline friends. I wasn’t that surprised by their decision to delete me, although perhaps because I’ve spent over half my life dealing with people in person, it still stings a little when “unfriending” happens. I had a feeling the people who unfriended me found me annoying… and the truth is, I found them a little annoying, too. But I realize that in the long run, in very few cases do I end up truly missing the people who leave my Facebook realm. After the initial ego shock of seeing the friend count go down, life goes on and I forget about them.

The people I do tend to miss are those with whom I actually interact or have ever known offline. Failing social media relationships and inevitable “unfriending” is even harder with family members because, if I’m honest, it makes me think they don’t like me at all. And the more I lose touch with people in my family, the more I think the situation is personal, and will be permanent. Thanks to Facebook, I don’t even feel that comfortable thinking about going to the family homestead for a reunion anymore, mostly due to politics and religion and social media behavior. I just assume my family would rather not see me, which makes living in Germany very convenient.

Bill’s younger daughter recently told him that she’d wanted to invite him to her wedding a few years ago. I’m assuming she would have invited me, too, although I don’t know for sure. In the end, younger daughter didn’t invite Bill, because she wanted to avoid drama with her mother. Here it was, younger daughter’s wedding day. She should have felt free to invite whomever she pleased. It should have been her day. But she was more concerned about her narcissistic mother’s feelings and, ultimately, her mother’s behavior. So she excluded Bill, even though I can guarantee he would have been a better behaved guest at her nuptials.

I don’t fault younger daughter for doing that. I might have blamed her some years ago, before I got to know her better. But I don’t feel that way anymore, because we’ve learned more about what happened during the many years in which she and Bill were not allowed to communicate. Younger daughter grew up in an environment where she was compelled to either do what her mother wanted, or suffer dire consequences. It took a few years outside of that environment for her to relax a bit and make decisions for herself.

Younger daughter didn’t even initially tell her mother about her decision to talk to Bill. Even though younger daughter is a grown woman with children of her own, and her mother lives on the other side of the country, she knew there would be trouble. So, instead of telling her mother that, as an adult, younger daughter has the right to live her life as she pleases, she maintained the false reality for a bit longer.

I can relate to younger daughter’s angst on a much smaller and less personal scale. When Bill and I first moved into our current home after leaving the toxic and abusive environment of our last, it took me several months to be able to relax and enjoy the current, healthier living situation. I kept expecting our former landlady to come over and yell at me for something, or give me a look of disgust, disdain, or disapproval as to how I live my life. I was suffering from a mild form of PTSD that had warped my thinking and reality a bit.

The truth is, ex landlady was working for us. We were paying her a lot of money for the privilege of renting her house. I should have simply reminded her of that fact and demanded that she show me basic respect. But that’s easier said than done when you’re dealing with an immature, irrational, narcissistic person. Because, as you quickly find out, narcissists can out-drama most normal, healthy people, and there will be hell to pay if you don’t play their games. So innocent, decent, well-meaning people are “punished” and have to suffer in favor of the narcissist’s need to stay in control. One of the punishments I actually enjoyed, by the way, was ex landlady’s penchant for the silent treatment. Those were actually the best months of our time with her in our lives. Remember, it’s not a punishment to be shunned by an asshole. 😉

Bill and his daughter now talk somewhat regularly. She calls him “Dad” instead of “Bill”, and she lets him see his grandchildren on Skype. She didn’t give in to her mother’s demands that she forget about her father and accept a poor substitute in Ex’s third husband. Frankly, that’s more than Bill had ever expected or hoped for, after his disastrous attempts and failures to co-parent with his ex wife.

But when she speaks to her mother, younger daughter has to listen to Ex complain about how #3 (younger daughter’s stepfather) “misses” her and wants to see “his grandchildren”. Not once has younger daughter ever heard from her stepfather expressing these bereft feelings. Sure, we’ve seen #3 post the odd social media post about how he thinks of Ex’s brood of five as “his kids”, but in reality, it’s all a big facade. In reality, he doesn’t show a lot of regard for Bill’s daughters or former stepson. He’s clearly much more interested in his own kids with the Ex than he is with her other children.

It was the same thing back in 2006, when Ex tried to get Bill to sign legal papers so #3 could adopt Bill’s daughters. He heard from Ex that #3 “loved” Bill’s girls as his own and wanted them to legally be considered his children. Never once did #3 ever personally speak to Bill about the prospect of his legally adopting the girls, just as he’s never spoken to younger daughter about his so-called “love” and affection for younger daughter’s children and thinking of them as his grandchildren.

That’s all a bunch of wishful thinking/fantastical/bullshit that Ex continues to promote. It’s a false narrative of the truth. Unfortunately, it’s easier for the healthier people to continue to tolerate that crap from Ex, than call her on it. It’s easier for younger daughter to nod and smile than tell her mother, in no uncertain terms, that Bill is the father of younger daughter, and younger daughter’s children are Bill’s grandchildren, not #3’s.

Despite Ex’s best attempts to replace Bill with her third husband, her efforts have failed with at least one of Bill’s two daughters. I’m proud of younger daughter for refusing to give in to her mother’s demands that she forget about Bill, because Bill truly loves both of his children and never should have been denied access to them. Denying him access caused a lot of damage that could, and should, have been avoided. And if Ex were a decent person and a responsible parent, she’d understand that it’s wrong to hate her exes more than she loves and respects her children. But, unfortunately, she’s a very toxic person. She’s selfish, delusional, and disrespectful. And because of that, and her propensity to be “dramatic”, good people are punished.

Bill can’t have a social media connection with his own daughter or his son-in-law. Why not? Because it would cause drama with Ex. Either she would object to it, or she would try to exploit the connection somehow. So, even though Bill is by far the healthier parent, he has to be “punished” as a form of protection– both for younger daughter and her family, and for Bill and, to a lesser extent, me. (I’m sure Ex reads this blog, though… and I don’t actually care.)

I think younger daughter is, like me, a bit of a truth teller. Truth tellers are the ones who don’t buy into the fantasy. They don’t fall prey to cognitive dissonance. They see things more clearly than others do, and they tell the truth. That tendency can make them unpopular in a sick family system, particularly when it involves someone with narcissistic tendencies. A truth teller can be a “buzz kill”. Their demands to adhere to reality can really be a downer for someone who would rather fabricate more palatable (to them) lies.

Ex would like to pretend Bill never existed, or, at the very least, see him punished for not continuing to accept her abuse. She suffered an ego blow when Bill agreed to her divorce ultimatum. The ego blow worsened when he found someone else to love him and, clearly, lives a much better life now. She’d rather not face reality and take responsibility for her mistakes. She’d rather make Bill the bad guy and punish him, and she tries to make other people punish Bill, too. But younger daughter is a truth teller, and she doesn’t accept that false reality.

I’m waiting for younger daughter to get fed up with Ex’s demands and tell her mom the way things really are, and how they’re going to be, regarding her children. She may never do it. The reality is, it’s hard to give up on your own mom, even if she is toxic and crazy, and even though there are so many other people in the world who are healthier and kinder. Ex is still her mom, and she has a special place in younger daughter’s life. Plus, younger daughter truly is a lot like Bill. She’s legitimately kind, considerate, and decent.

I feel sad for her. I think she felt like she had to apologize to Bill for “dissing” him at her wedding because of what she knew her mom would do. The fact is, it was her wedding day, and she should have had the right to do whatever she wanted. It should have been entirely her choice as to whom to invite. But Bill completely understands why she felt she had to exclude him, and he can handle it. That’s why he’s the better parent, and he has to suffer for it.

I hope that someday, younger daughter realizes that she has every right to do what she wants and needs to do for herself and her family, even if it causes her mom to bring the drama. I hope that she gets to the point at which she realizes she doesn’t have to tolerate that abuse anymore. If Ex wants to be dramatic, she can do it without younger daughter in attendance. Younger daughter is a grown woman with allies… and she can choose to opt out of the drama. Once she realizes that, maybe she can stop “punishing” the good and healthy people in her life by excluding them.

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