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Victimhood / Martyrdom vs Boundaries
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 636557" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>I don't need your clarity and strength so often as I used to, but it makes all the difference in the world to know you are here.</p><p></p><p>Thanks, guys!</p><p></p><p>:0)</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>This post is chain of consciousness stuff written as I tried to find the vulnerability that left me open.</p><p></p><p>It was hope.</p><p></p><p>A piece of it was self importance.</p><p></p><p>I am not sure, but I think I hoped to achieve some kind of validity, some kind of wisdom or personhood, through that redemptive naming, "mother".</p><p></p><p>That is why difficult child's words or opinions could send me tumbling into that place where all we know is that something we don't understand is very wrong.</p><p></p><p>Something every other parent in the world got right is very wrong here, and I have changed enough, am now strong enough to...wait for it....</p><p></p><p>To fix it.</p><p></p><p>Oh, for Heaven Sake.</p><p></p><p>What I've concluded is that we (I) need to believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that given everything I know today, I have responded with clarity and kindness.</p><p></p><p>And I need to have no interest in outcome.</p><p></p><p>No interest, no basking in reflected glory on the off chance I finally fix whatever it is this time.</p><p></p><p>Compassion is impossible when we have ego skin in the game.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>This is difficult child son's rationalization. I would like your take on it, please. This is where I fall down, everytime.</p><p></p><p>The falling down part has to do with difficult child son lack of education. Here is where it gets vulnerable for me. Education, as much as they wanted and with supportive parents behind them, was key to my dreams for my kids.</p><p></p><p>This has to do with all the things I wished had been possible for me</p><p></p><p>It goes right along with the centerpiece bouquet from FTD florist at Thanksgiving and another, even more beautiful one from the kids at Christmas before everyone comes home.</p><p></p><p>That imagery, because that is the way I was so certain all our futures would look, breaks my heart to this day every time those stupid FTD commercials (which should be outlawed, now that I think about It) are shown around the holidays.</p><p></p><p>Grrrr...</p><p></p><p>But I digress.</p><p></p><p>In any event, difficult child son only has GED.</p><p></p><p>On one of his living at home as an adult times, we made going back to school a condition of staying with us any longer.</p><p></p><p>So difficult child, well over 21 at that time, TOOK OUT A STUDENT LOAN.</p><p></p><p>So he could go to a community college!</p><p></p><p>He did not even try to make that work.</p><p></p><p>He knew more than the Instructors, of course, and blah, blah, blah.</p><p></p><p>But we are talking my motivations and vulnerabilities here, and my son's lack of education, and the kind of life that means for him, Is one.</p><p></p><p>What he wanted at the end of that first quarter was for us to cosign for the next $3000 loan. What we did instead was send him away with the car we bought him plus $4500 cash.</p><p></p><p>Just to be rid of him, just to know we had given (again, though the time before It had only been $1500 and six months cosign plus deposit) and to be able to look at ourselves in the mirror.</p><p></p><p>Somehow, it just seemed like enough money ought to fix it.</p><p></p><p>Maybe we hadn't given enough In the past for him to make It.</p><p></p><p>We were both working then and, given what we would willingly have spent on education, this was, so we told ourselves, way less than that and yet, enough for him to actually have a shot at making it.</p><p></p><p>I think I had not been on this site very long at that time.</p><p></p><p>Or maybe I found the site...yeah, that was It. I found the site some months later.</p><p></p><p>I don't remember.</p><p></p><p>Though we knew he was using drugs recreationally, we still believed he was acting out against whatever it was we had done to cause his sister to act out.</p><p></p><p>Some secret something, some sickness at the heart of the family we'd created.</p><p></p><p>Fair warning for those in the position we were in, then: Unless whatever helping professional is involved can tell you, specifically, what you did wrong as a parent, don't believe them.</p><p></p><p>Post like crazy, here.</p><p></p><p>We actually do make a difference for one another.</p><p></p><p>Anyway, that seems to be another vulnerability/perfectionism place for me. That because of whatever was wrong in our family, we hadn't even managed to get difficult child son through college.</p><p></p><p>So how is he supposed to make a living?</p><p></p><p>(It wasn't until difficult child daughter spectacular crash and burn three years ago -- which is what brought me back to this site -- that we gave credence to any of her psychiatric diagnoses. I still have big trouble with that. But that does seem to have been what was wrong in our family. Thanks to MWM frequent postings on mental illness, and on responsibility, and to Recovering' suggestions regarding books on sociopathy, and just to everything we always talk about here, I no longer believe our family was so toxic that our children were doomed.</p><p></p><p>It was something else entirely that messed everything up.</p><p></p><p>Which meant that I was able to progress past that stopping point of futilely trying to love the kids enough, or demonstrate that we believed in them enough, to overcome whatever it was we did or didn't do.</p><p></p><p>And I have been standing up all over the place, ever since.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>So, I get that part; I can stand up to that particular set of vulnerabilities, now that I have all of you.</p><p></p><p>So what was it about this time...</p><p></p><p>Well, I know I sound like a sissy?</p><p></p><p>But the phrase that keeps horrifying me right into that shockey place is....</p><p></p><p>He said, "Look here, dumbass."</p><p></p><p>To his own mother he said that!</p><p></p><p>And then?</p><p></p><p>He repeated it, and said that if he were sitting in front of me, I would be able to see the truth of what he was saying (something to do with being thrown onto the street with nothing and no education, and something about how we were always giving his sister money and how I am a bad Grandmother because his kids don't even know me!)</p><p></p><p>And I know I should be stronger than this but it is true that I hardly know his kids and it shakes me to my core that our family is so broken.</p><p></p><p>That's the vulnerability.</p><p></p><p>Where and how my kids and grandchildren are in the world.</p><p></p><p>Hope, as one if us posted the other day, is a cruel thing.</p><p></p><p>There is the vulnerability.</p><p></p><p>Any smallest opening that might make just enough weird sense that I could hold that prettiness of hope, again.</p><p></p><p>It is self destructive for me to hold these dreams of hope on any level.</p><p></p><p>That is the vulnerability.</p><p></p><p>That is the thing I slip into denial for.</p><p></p><p>Hope.</p><p></p><p>Recovering, you are right.</p><p></p><p>I need to open my eyes.</p><p></p><p>Sucks, though.</p><p></p><p>I would add that difficult child son (I still get a weird flash of unreality over "Look here, dumbass.")</p><p></p><p>...</p><p></p><p>Time.</p><p></p><p>I have. I claim, the right to take time.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Boy. </p><p></p><p>That just throws me.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p>That I am vulnerable already because, as I have clarified issues of guilt or responsibility or desirability, I am walking through standing up to pretty much everyone in my life, family of origin included.</p><p></p><p>As we discuss here so often, there is more happening, on every level, than we know.</p><p></p><p>So this is about growth, about facing up and letting go and no need to protect myself from whatever I see as truth, anymore.</p><p></p><p>But it still blows me away that my son would speak to his mother that way.</p><p></p><p>Even if the mother is me...even if the mother is someone whose own mother, whose own brother and sister, see no value in unless I stay in, playing the same role, lending the same legitimacy to relationship patterns that are stupidly, pointlessly cruel.</p><p></p><p></p><p>It's been a time of strange, pointless cruelties. I have been able to name them and to stand easily and well. This incident with difficult child is part of what needs to keep happening to me until my process, until my spiritual growth, at least surrounding these issues, has been completed.</p><p></p><p>I think I am upright again.</p><p></p><p>It must be that all of us here are destined to become very strong, really almost invulnerable.</p><p></p><p>Once our vulnerabilities have been exposed and become strengths.</p><p></p><p>Sucks to go through it, though.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 636557, member: 17461"] I don't need your clarity and strength so often as I used to, but it makes all the difference in the world to know you are here. Thanks, guys! :0) *** This post is chain of consciousness stuff written as I tried to find the vulnerability that left me open. It was hope. A piece of it was self importance. I am not sure, but I think I hoped to achieve some kind of validity, some kind of wisdom or personhood, through that redemptive naming, "mother". That is why difficult child's words or opinions could send me tumbling into that place where all we know is that something we don't understand is very wrong. Something every other parent in the world got right is very wrong here, and I have changed enough, am now strong enough to...wait for it.... To fix it. Oh, for Heaven Sake. What I've concluded is that we (I) need to believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that given everything I know today, I have responded with clarity and kindness. And I need to have no interest in outcome. No interest, no basking in reflected glory on the off chance I finally fix whatever it is this time. Compassion is impossible when we have ego skin in the game. *** This is difficult child son's rationalization. I would like your take on it, please. This is where I fall down, everytime. The falling down part has to do with difficult child son lack of education. Here is where it gets vulnerable for me. Education, as much as they wanted and with supportive parents behind them, was key to my dreams for my kids. This has to do with all the things I wished had been possible for me It goes right along with the centerpiece bouquet from FTD florist at Thanksgiving and another, even more beautiful one from the kids at Christmas before everyone comes home. That imagery, because that is the way I was so certain all our futures would look, breaks my heart to this day every time those stupid FTD commercials (which should be outlawed, now that I think about It) are shown around the holidays. Grrrr... But I digress. In any event, difficult child son only has GED. On one of his living at home as an adult times, we made going back to school a condition of staying with us any longer. So difficult child, well over 21 at that time, TOOK OUT A STUDENT LOAN. So he could go to a community college! He did not even try to make that work. He knew more than the Instructors, of course, and blah, blah, blah. But we are talking my motivations and vulnerabilities here, and my son's lack of education, and the kind of life that means for him, Is one. What he wanted at the end of that first quarter was for us to cosign for the next $3000 loan. What we did instead was send him away with the car we bought him plus $4500 cash. Just to be rid of him, just to know we had given (again, though the time before It had only been $1500 and six months cosign plus deposit) and to be able to look at ourselves in the mirror. Somehow, it just seemed like enough money ought to fix it. Maybe we hadn't given enough In the past for him to make It. We were both working then and, given what we would willingly have spent on education, this was, so we told ourselves, way less than that and yet, enough for him to actually have a shot at making it. I think I had not been on this site very long at that time. Or maybe I found the site...yeah, that was It. I found the site some months later. I don't remember. Though we knew he was using drugs recreationally, we still believed he was acting out against whatever it was we had done to cause his sister to act out. Some secret something, some sickness at the heart of the family we'd created. Fair warning for those in the position we were in, then: Unless whatever helping professional is involved can tell you, specifically, what you did wrong as a parent, don't believe them. Post like crazy, here. We actually do make a difference for one another. Anyway, that seems to be another vulnerability/perfectionism place for me. That because of whatever was wrong in our family, we hadn't even managed to get difficult child son through college. So how is he supposed to make a living? (It wasn't until difficult child daughter spectacular crash and burn three years ago -- which is what brought me back to this site -- that we gave credence to any of her psychiatric diagnoses. I still have big trouble with that. But that does seem to have been what was wrong in our family. Thanks to MWM frequent postings on mental illness, and on responsibility, and to Recovering' suggestions regarding books on sociopathy, and just to everything we always talk about here, I no longer believe our family was so toxic that our children were doomed. It was something else entirely that messed everything up. Which meant that I was able to progress past that stopping point of futilely trying to love the kids enough, or demonstrate that we believed in them enough, to overcome whatever it was we did or didn't do. And I have been standing up all over the place, ever since. *** So, I get that part; I can stand up to that particular set of vulnerabilities, now that I have all of you. So what was it about this time... Well, I know I sound like a sissy? But the phrase that keeps horrifying me right into that shockey place is.... He said, "Look here, dumbass." To his own mother he said that! And then? He repeated it, and said that if he were sitting in front of me, I would be able to see the truth of what he was saying (something to do with being thrown onto the street with nothing and no education, and something about how we were always giving his sister money and how I am a bad Grandmother because his kids don't even know me!) And I know I should be stronger than this but it is true that I hardly know his kids and it shakes me to my core that our family is so broken. That's the vulnerability. Where and how my kids and grandchildren are in the world. Hope, as one if us posted the other day, is a cruel thing. There is the vulnerability. Any smallest opening that might make just enough weird sense that I could hold that prettiness of hope, again. It is self destructive for me to hold these dreams of hope on any level. That is the vulnerability. That is the thing I slip into denial for. Hope. Recovering, you are right. I need to open my eyes. Sucks, though. I would add that difficult child son (I still get a weird flash of unreality over "Look here, dumbass.") ... Time. I have. I claim, the right to take time. *** Boy. That just throws me. *** That I am vulnerable already because, as I have clarified issues of guilt or responsibility or desirability, I am walking through standing up to pretty much everyone in my life, family of origin included. As we discuss here so often, there is more happening, on every level, than we know. So this is about growth, about facing up and letting go and no need to protect myself from whatever I see as truth, anymore. But it still blows me away that my son would speak to his mother that way. Even if the mother is me...even if the mother is someone whose own mother, whose own brother and sister, see no value in unless I stay in, playing the same role, lending the same legitimacy to relationship patterns that are stupidly, pointlessly cruel. It's been a time of strange, pointless cruelties. I have been able to name them and to stand easily and well. This incident with difficult child is part of what needs to keep happening to me until my process, until my spiritual growth, at least surrounding these issues, has been completed. I think I am upright again. It must be that all of us here are destined to become very strong, really almost invulnerable. Once our vulnerabilities have been exposed and become strengths. Sucks to go through it, though. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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