I have shared before about growing up feeling incredibly alone.
In that piece I referred to the fact that the Toxicity of my mother meant that family members were kept at a distance, physical or emotional wedges were dug in place that meant that they stayed away or I was kept away from them. A family divided and when together – the rare occasions, there were more eggshells and mistruths than a cabinet meeting with Boris Johnson held in a poultry farm.
But there was something else.
Whilst Family were being divided, neglected, controlled and abused.
There was another reason that I grew up alone.
Sprinkles of Helpfulness.
You see, people who are this toxic do not have friends.
Barely did anyone willingly volunteer to come around for coffee to chat with them – victimhood persuasion was often needed and overheard on the phone, and No was barely taken for an answer.
They didn’t have friends, because if she didnt have any, Dad wasn’t allowed them either.
Sprinkles of helpfulness though.
What are you on about James?
They didnt have friends – because that mean seeing people for who they are –
Instead, they helped people, rescued them – groomed them even.
Often for money, or to trade ‘taking them to church’ as a bargaining tool – or to have the ‘right ‘ to judge their morality, she deserved to be rewarded for the helpfulness. (entitled, remember..)
The list isnt endless of the helpfulness, because it was reluctant and not done with any joy or depth, it was tactical.
People would be taken on holiday – they’ve had such a tough year
Children would be looked after – before and after school
‘Old dears’ would be visited
Actually, it was rare that a walk back from church on a Sunday wasnt via some old couple or another, knowing what I know now, they were probably being sized up.
So called friends ‘had personal problems’ or were ‘going through a hard time’- and ‘Its good to be there for them’ – and mysteriously moved away when they recovered, never to be seen again
Im reluctant to bring my Dad into this, but, prime fixer and helper was his de facto – when it came to fixing boilers, radiators or any DIY, and thats before building an entire church building. Oh and by the way – She was bitterly disappointed that he ‘only’ got a lamp for all his efforts. The church weren’t grateful enough for all the sacrifice she went through – their reward wasn’t enough….
Yes, Evangelical Church 1990…she was furious when we got home with that lamp and nearly threw it and smashed it.
Sprinkles of helpfulness
And note, if you haven’t noted already ; It wasnt genuine. It was for show.
She expected to be rewarded appropriately for it.
We stopped looking after children ‘When it wasnt worth the effort’ – not because it wasnt good for the family
People started to disappear – when they realised their expectations went up – or the fees did.
One of her biggest projections was that ‘Other people were being taken advantage of’
When someone else did something for nothing, because it was a good thing to do.
Especially anyone who did this and took the attention away from her.
Have you ever seen the film Spotlight (2002)?
Its what the Catholic Church did – its Institutional Gaslighting.
Create a mythical reality of helpfulness in one domain of life, whilst abusing others, in an almost similar space. It perpetuates the disbelief. ‘They can’t do that, they’re so helpful’
Sprinkles of Helpfulness
People to ‘fix’
Vulnerable people to prey on
Institutions fall for the helpfulness – until individuals work them out.
Or, as in Spotlight, an external agency puts the patterns together.
Anyway. As a child. The adults that remained relatively close to us – were those who were being helped
Because no-one stayed. People who realised they were being played didnt stick around.
There was no warmth.
Long term friends didnt come around for meals – because there was no such thing.
So, growing up alone wasnt just about the people who stayed away
It was that the so many others were dazzled by sprinkles of false helpfulness
Caught in the myth.
And people feeling sorry for them, or grateful for them.
They couldn’t do that – they’ve been just helpful to me
They couldn’t do that – they’re good christian people
And it was always someone else fault when I asked that ‘we haven’t seen ______ for a while’…
Strange that.
And maybe Institutions that pride themselves on helping and rescuing are places that can validate abusers who have this tactic – who are unaware or choose to ignore or who believe words, defend and protect instead of listen and change. Fixers and helpers hiding in plain sight.
It would be extraordinary difficult to be able to articulate the level of psychological abuse and neglect we received in the family, it was even harder when the avenues of who this could be articulated to were shut down. But people knew. They were just as afraid of them as I was. But those who they helped – were indebted to them and weren’t safe. What the ‘helped’ didn’t realise – was that it wasnt genuine.
The myth of my parents helpfulness meant surviving alone.
Those they helped weren’t safe for us.
Those they helped also…weren’t safe from them.
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