I Have Something To Say

  I was in a meeting where a mediator was trying her best to stay impartial to a situation where a large volume of well-documented verbal and emotional abuse had occurred. She was a trained professional, but professionally speaking, she didn't want to be in a position to take sides on the issue. She offered the worn-out platitude, "Well, there are two sides to every story..." I let it slide the first time she said it, but when she said it again, I stopped her. "Actually, when it comes to abuse, there are not two sides. There is abuse, and there is the recipient of abuse. The recipient of abuse is not at fault for the actions of the abuser." Her jaw dropped a moment, then she nodded slowly. She knew I was right, and in this moment, a light went on. The situation she was mediating was not about two people having a disagreement. It was about a serial abuser attacking someone else who had done nothing to provoke the attack. She couldn't stay impartial. It ...

Once you see the signs of abuse, it's almost impossible to unsee them. I was recently party to a conversation between an abuser and someone confronting her intentionally vindictive behavior. The abuser simultaneously denied any wrongdoing, while also claiming she "forgot," because, you know, she's so busy and important, and also threw in a heaping dose of blame while calling everyone involved in the incident (except herself) liars. It was the all-you-can-eat buffet of word salad. Word salad is when an abuser attempts to deny, blame, and deflect responsibility away from their abusive behavior. It's a form of gaslighting and manipulation designed to throw you off course. It's when you ask someone a direct question and they give you a five minute rant not answering your question.  In other words, they are lying liars caught in their lie. It's also used in reference to schizophrenics launching into a tirade of nonsensical words. For narcissists, psychopa...

  "I'm not sick, you're sick!" This is what my brother barked at me, eyes glowing with contempt, when I confronted him about his behavior. After a psychotic episode in his twenties, he had been diagnosed Bipolar with Delusions of Grandeur, but rejected the diagnosis. His outward behavior ranged from catatonic to aggressive, and always anti-social. He was also a hypochondriac, until, conveniently, he saw a self-proclaimed exorcist who healed him of all his diseases. He then believed he was a prophet, and was performing his own exorcisms and faith healings on anyone willing to let him. "He's not sick, you're sick!" This is what my mother shouted at me, indignant that I would suggest my brother could use some psychological help, and maybe meds. She had a long history of enabling an abusive, alcoholic, narcissist, one of the many sick men she kept in her life to take care of. My brother now lived with her, rent and responsibility free. A psycho...

I am the mother of three young children, and it inevitably comes up in small talk on playgrounds and Sunday school, or wherever moms congregate. "Do your folks live nearby to help out with the kids?" I usually deflect with a comment about my in-laws, who live out of state. I throw in a reassuring word about how much we miss them, which is true. They are normal grandparents who love and care for their children and grandchildren. Sometimes that will be enough to satisfy the person and I can change the subject quickly. Other times, I brace myself for the next question. "And where are your parents?" The in-law deflection bought me time to consider how much to share. If they are a total stranger, I usually say something vague, like, "Oh, they're not around." It's awkward enough for most people to stop asking, but the obnoxious ones will persist. If I'm feeling bold, I might continue. "They're mentally unstable, and I don't feel saf...

My go-to method of coping with abuse is to achieve. School, and eventually work, were my escape. They were the places I got positive reinforcement for doing a good job, and I was always eager to please. At home, if I did a good job, it would either go unnoticed or there would suddenly be some alternate criteria that meant I failed. To escape at home, I read. I was less likely to be a target if I made myself invisible with a book. In Kindergarten, I read at a fourth grade level. I was told many years later by my mother. She added that she made sure to play down my aptitude so as to not upset my older brother who struggled to read. My mother had a way of shutting me down and enabling my brother. I was expected to do well in school, but my parents never asked me about what I was studying or bothered to look at my homework. It never occurred to either of us that they could, and maybe should, engage me intellectually, or at all. They expected me to be totally independent, which was fin...

They are everywhere on social media, those sentimental memes about mothers. But because I was  abused, to me they read like my worst nightmare:  My mother actually does stalk me. I cut off contact with my mother over ten years ago because I did not feel safe, and because I decided it was more important to protect my child from her manipulative behavior. Whenever I move, she finds my address. She will send cards to my children, acting as if everything were normal. Two of them were born after I cut off contact, yet she knows their names and when they were born. She will not engage directly with me, or address any of the issues, but she will let me know she is there attempting to control me. Recently she sent me an email with "Urgent -Response Needed" in the headline. It was not urgent. It did not need a response. It was an attempt to manipulate me once again. "Hoovering" is the term, borrowed from the vacuum cleaner, whereby a person tries to suck people in to ...