On two separate occasions when I was disclosing to the relevant authorities the abusive behaviour of my mother, I was asked the following question.
‘Why are you doing this now?’
It was 25 years since I had left the family home, and been a terrified abused child. Though her behaviour was still the same even as I had been an adult.
Internal confrontation had occurred previously to absolutely no effect. But then it wasn’t going to, I now know. So the damage continued.
‘So… Why now? ‘
Because that really is the question isnt it.
I was a Middle Aged man, making a complaint about stuff that had happened a while ago, and where the behaviour still continued.
Yet.
The now happened at a time when…..
I had done the very beginnings of understanding the behaviour.
I had done at that point the beginnings of some therapy on my childhood… this action of mine exacerbated it ( I stood up to her, my therapist said)
I knew I wasnt alone in this.
I thought (incorrectly) that someone might believe me.
I was a little bit stronger than I was as a child.
I even thought (incorrectly) that the processes of safeguarding might be strong enough to not be manipulated. ( yeah I was wrong about that too)
I wanted to protect others. That was it.
Stronger in myself, wanted to protect others.
It was time to let others know about the monster.
…and there had been at least one recent moment where abusive action had occurred, in the present.
Because.
It’s strange that there seems to be some weird primacy of someone being able to report abuse at the time.
I know how terrifying it is to make a complaint against someone who is abusive, manipulating, callous and dangerous.
I know that, though people had faced up to them in the past, nothing was done.
I know that there was absolutely no way of doing it in the midst, the only recourse is to walk away, run away, hide, isolate.
I know that there is bewilderment in the moment, confusion and shame. Thats what abuse is folks. ALL OF IT HAS EMOTIONAL ABUSE in it. The vulnerable self blame and feel small, as the powerful person damages and controls.
WHY NOW…
BECAUSE THEY CANT THEN. THATS THE POINT.
WHY NOW?
I was asked.
I shouldn’t have been asked.
It’s completely irrelevant.
It was the bravest thing I have ever done in my entire life.
Yet someone in a procedural document considered ‘ why now?’ to be the most appropriate question.
Transformation is through the body, not away from it (Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now)
I think I read ‘The Power of Now’ about 3 years ago, im not sure if there’s been a month since when I haven’t gone back to it and given it a read as something has taken me back to it.
There is much in it, and many have written on it before, so this is in no way a review. But, the part of the book for me that felt the most uncomfortable when I read it the first time, and I guess then the most challenging, was the section on the Body. In particular about the Body and Spirituality.
The quotation above is in a section in which Tolle describes how the body was ‘left behind’ in aspects of western spirituality (in favour of the mind) and how this fragmentation can be repaired, and without it, that transformation, from the inside out, is impossible.
My timings might be off, but when I read those words 3-4 years ago, I knew I had started in myself the tiny steps of repairing the inner disconnect.
Part of this was to distance myself from the religious language and practices I had inherited that aided the separation (written about here in part 1 of this series on loving our bodies).
Part of this had been in tiny steps to recognise the worth and value of my own body in maybe tiny physical ways; at that point I was valuing myself with nice clothes, enjoying the feel of baths to relax in, using Nivea moisturiser, eating better and healthier and at least valuing my body more than I had done previously.
Part of this too, I think was that I had begun or about to do Trauma Therapy, which in every session I was able to sense coherence, in some emotional ways, inner re-wirings, which meant tiny shards of feeling settled on the inside in a way not before.
The journey of body connection had begun, in tiny steps.
And so, as I read The Power of Now at that time, it felt reassuringly natural, yet also uncomfortable and aspiring, to think, to feel or get a sense of renewal through the body. For I also knew then I still had a lot of work to do.
My tendency as I said above was to disconnect from my body (with all the religious permission to do so) and blame it, enact pain on it and self soothe it in a number of harmful ways.
So to talk about Spirituality through the body, when my body didnt feel emotionally safe, strong, peaceful.. when it didnt feel at ‘home’ in itself, still felt a long way away – yet, at the same time, having tried to do religiosity through the mind, I also knew/felt something had been lacking.
It was like trying to have a faith life with the ‘self’ quadrant (of the four quadrants, self, God, community, creation) on just the beginning of bringing itself to the James spiritual life party. I mean it was better than it was, but it was just starting..
The search for meaning and truth for me had been in external things, to the extent of neglecting, denying and damaging my body sometimes in the search for and of them, when I saw this in the Power of Now, I realised to what extent.
But this felt real at the time ( underlined then)
Through the inner body, you are inseparably connected to this unmanifested One life- birthless, deathless, eternally present. Through the inner body you are forever one with God
(Eckhart Tolle)
The other source for me of awakening the spiritual within has been John O Donahue, today I read and read the section in which this part is in:
We should avoid the false dualism that separates the should from the body. The soul is not simply within the body hidden somewhere within its recesses. The truth is a the converse. Your body is in the soul, and the soul suffices you completely.
(John O Donohue, Anam Cara)
In a kind of beautiful way, I am finding it much much more difficult to share where I am today in all of this, than where I was three years ago, in that three years, a lot has happened, both dealing with external, but even more so, two lots of therapy later, the internal.
For the first time in my entire life, this year, I have felt completely at home in my own body, like feeling stillness, sureness and confidence, as if, through all the work I know I have done, and with brilliant professional help, there’s safety within.
Not the removal of emotions, like the moment of anxiety, or unsettlement, these have happened, they’re going to. It has neither been the continual sense of transcendence I might add, but more so, the safety to sense and feel, to feel myself as someone of value and immensity, to also sense my own mystery and depths, as well as feeling open and large hearted, like joy and wonder and love are constant companions, not bolts of lightening out of the blue.
Like I am a whole being. Whole.
Transformation has been through the body, and that process has been the slow reconnection, of my mind to accept my body, my heart to love my body, for me, to be, and realise myself as within, and not just thoughts or emotions, but me, conscious me inside.
Is that my soul or my heart? does it even matter, either way, my experience this year, all year has been about becoming day by day more aware, more content, more at home, to sense more love, and peace, more joyous even, and be more open, on the inside.
I wouldn’t have thought that possible 3 years ago. it was beyond comprehension 6 years ago.
So today.
I woke feeling still, and loved, and held, and content, like almost every day this year. I realised I had no plans for the next three days of a bank holiday weekend (I worked yesterday I’ll have Tuesday off too), and so I thought to myself, I would just be.
So I made an intention to just tend to and enjoy the sense of peace in my body, for the outside; i cut my hair, did a facial scrub, shaved and showered, all deliberately and slowly, and then gave myself permission just to feel alive in my body by just wearing shorts for an hour, in my flat, to just feel on the external the same sense of alive and peace on the inside. To sense my body with utterly no shame. And like much of this year, feel utterly alive.
I then picked up both books mentioned above, and have spent today, at home or at my favourite cafe in town, reading, feeling and noticing how different I feel now about my body on the outside, and about my emotional, heartful, safe inner body, and just in the peace of the cafe or home, breathed, sensed and felt renewed in the sense of deep connection within my own body. I feel utterly at peace and still in this moment of realisation, affirmation, bliss even, it feels, I feel wonderful.
I dont really have to write about this at all, I get that, but even this has been a deep experience to try and write in black and white this tiny part of my spiritual, physical and emotional journey, and that transformation really has been through and not despite or outside of my body.
This is the beginning of the realisation of oneness, which is love. At the deepest level of being, you are one with all that is (Eckhart Tolle)
The Spiritual self was inside me all along, love was inside me all along, soul was inside me all along, I was inside all along…
It’s about the way in which the unconscious expectations are placed on a child, it’s the story of how a child, then teenager, Jeannette McCurdy, has to resist growing up to maintain the fantasy of her mother, whom she adored, of being an actress.
I have read many books on parents and narcissism, but this is the first book I have read that describes the story of what the child had to do, and the effects long term.
There’s much in the book that I can relate to, there’s much that I have seen in other situations too.
If you want to get an idea of the damage emotional and coercive abuse, by a mother, can do and looks like, and how it sits under the radar of criminality, but is wholly self absorbed and destructive, then this is it.
It’s telling that the behaviour in the book has generational patterns, the grandmother was a similar whining moaning complaining woman. The men got all the blame (not doing enough, not meeting their needs, aloof, blamed for affairs to disorientate as the women were actually having affairs.. I’ll not tell spoilers) , the women sat aloof , controlling them all.
The thread of the mother’s perpetual victim story, of having and surviving cancer runs through. This story is forced down her own children’s throats on home videos, and used as a lever to get acting roles for Jeannette, ‘tell them your mum survived cancer as part of the audition’ is often directed.
The effect on Jeanette is continual people pleasing, pretending, orientating her entire life around not upsetting her mother,(who was always liable to cry, get angry, scream ‘ungrateful’ , or be disappointed) at any or regular occasions. Jeannette is on emotional alert all the time, in a life that until near the end of the book is not hers, but her mothers.
Jeannette takes on, since childhood, the emotional regulation of her mom, as the one who can soothe her, who can make her mum happy, yet.. to keep the relationship and Jeannette in her mothers orbit, nothing, not even a good audition or making a part is good enough. So Jeannette is perpetually emotionally exhausted, and notably is comes as a shock in her mid twenties that she can think of herself also. But by this time she is high on alcohol and the effects of 12 years of eating disorders.
Im glad my mom died is raw, it’s funny at times, and I found myself cheering Jeannette on for every healing conversation with a therapist and every step forward she was making, yet the catalogue of abuse and those who could take advantage of her extended beyond just her mother, which isn’t surprising.
It would be easy to dismiss this book as only being relevent in the culture created by child acting, the media and production companies, but it is easily relatable to other organizations and cultures, especially with a high performative, high expectation , moral expectation. The fact that Jeannette also experienced a high rigid culture of Mormonism and it’s expectations, and it’s associated shame, is a pointer. It’s interesting that Jeannette mothers pulled her away from church, as also projecting criticism of them to Jeannette, causing Jeannette to not continue to go, and feel the shame. Jeannette mom was just invalidating those who might be critical of her to her daughter.
What I like too is that Jeannette doesn’t use the N word until the very end of the book. But what she describes throughout is her experiences, as they are, the treatment and behaviour she suffered, and her responses to it, so that when she uses the ‘N’ word (Narcissistic) is carries all the weight. Again, those of us who experienced then normalised, then survived in and amongst this will likely get this, how the naming of it heals, but also the categorising hides the varieties of behaviour behind it. It reminded me of when I first read the pink book – the words I discovered were ‘self absorbed’ or as in Lindsay Gibsons books, ‘Emotionally immature’ rather than the oft-banded around N word. But when we learn the terms having suffered it, we know.
I was warned that I might be triggered by the book, and maybe that warning meant that I read the book prepared for what it may do. Yes, there are some aspects I relate to, high expectations, perpetual victim, emotional eggshells, at least, there are some differences, not every abusive mother looks or is the same.
Some are more covert, some overt
Some rely on victimhood, others entitlement
All have prey and supply, all divide, all use people as extension of roles, none take any responsibility, all create drama.
I’m Glad my Mom Died, is one such story of the effect of one type of narcissistic abusive mothers, it’s relief to those who’ve experienced something similar (to know we’re not alone) and insight to those who start to see the patterns from this example.
Cheering you on Jeannette, keep on going putting yourself first.
Thank you to my new Daughter in Law Meghan for recommending this book to me, much appreciated, and to my lovely Christelle for transporting it across the pond.
‘You shouldn’t doubt yourself, you’re really good at’
Aww shucks, thank you
But when those voices return
Those ones
You know the ones I mean
Every action, every creative, public action is a huge sap of energy
Self doubt shouts with a megaphone from the recess of the mind
Ive been fighting my own voices for a few months now
Maybe for a few longer
I used to pretend that they weren’t there, but they just lay dormant
‘You’re no good at this’
‘You never make it work’
‘You’re not as good as _________ at it’
‘are you sure this is you?’
‘Faker’
‘Dont have ideas beyond your station’
The voices
Self doubt merges into paralytic self criticism
But then again, its no surprise is it?
The Trophy child, on display
All the work, no pay
A childhood ground on expectation, rules and shame
With only a few teachers to point me in the right direction
Relying on my own head to survive, the voices I can tell myself
Those voices I can do this – despite
I can be something – without
I can make it – on my own
Survival voices, from an unsafe land. Maybe that was it, so much energy taken up in trying to survive, self protection, understanding, trying to please, that there wasn’t space to actually be good at something, to be creative.
Compliments and encouragement I find hard to trust, easier to dismiss than believe them, I know you mean well.
It may be easy for you to tell me that I shouldn’t doubt myself – it really isn’t easy for me, I know you mean well
The effort to doubt my own self doubt, keeping the darkness at bay
realising that actually, the darkness might be a friend too, it wants to tell me something.
The battle in my mind, doesn’t need more weapons.
It’s not a fight. Its a reminder
A reminder to remember, who I truly am.
That I am not the voice. That those voices need not over power me.
A reminder towards love. A reminder towards awakening.
A reminder towards heart. A reminder towards soul.
Im giving you what I know. From what I have heard, directly.
As I was watching in a fascinating documentary recently on the development of Art in America (‘The Art of making it’- I think) , they used the phrase ‘ the oppressed knows their abuser more than the abuser knows themselves’ . So this is what I’m sharing with you, my knowledge, so that you can build up yours, if you need to. Healing starts when you see how you have been treated.
These are some of the tactics of the manipulator, and they are tactics, strategies so often used that protect their position or their core damaged, often rotten self.
Written from their perspective. For extra ammunition for you, the healing one, the empathetic or someone who hadnt realised the extend of what people could do to be emotionally or verbally manipulative.
So let’s put ourselves in the place of the manipulator, change places and imagine that we are in the shoes of someone trying to keep someone else quiet.
You have power, and so here some phrases to use if you want to make sure that your, powerful position is maintained, and in the process you have bewildered and controlled the person who challenges it.
It’ll keep someone quiet, especially someone who you want to keep silenced.
So, next time you are challenged, they maybe start to ask you questions that seems to threaten your existence, just throw one of these at them and see their reaction. For a moment it’s likely to startle them, especially if you’re using it for the first time. But remember, dont use the same one often, because what you’ll end up doing is giving them something to digest, like the gristle on a bit of chicken, and they’ll start to think about it, and build up some responses to it, so its better to throw in a new one or different one every now and then.
In no particular order….
‘I dont want to argue with you.’ This one is great, especially if they start to talk after a discussion before, it’ll completely silence them, they dont want an argument or conflict, just try itand see.
‘You’re just a dreamer.’ This has the same effect as
‘Stop being such an idealist’ .. If you suggest their argument is unreal, or ideal, it disables it, and they start to wonder if its unreasonable, making your position completely reasonable
‘Now dont get Angry with me’; Say this if their tone is just a tiny tiny bit louder than normal, or especially if they have gained a bit of confidence recently, suggesting they might be angry at something will peg them down a bit, also it really helps, in ‘church world’ that any determination of anger can help ensure that a position is invalidated. You can appear the calm one. It doesn’t matter if you have made them angry.
‘You’re too Sensitive’… an alternative is ‘You Care too Much’ – these are great to use, especially if they are starting to notice that you have limited depths of care for others, and maybe a deeper core of selfishness that you’d like to hide, so just let them know that they are too caring, and too sensitive to the needs of others. They’ll question how much to care, and maybe, if you say it right they’ll think that you haven’t had enough attention, and they’ll give you more, after all this is what you want all along.
‘You’re just gossiping’ or ‘thats just gossip’ or ‘they’re just a tell-tale’ Definitely use this one if someone starts to accuse someone that you have a close association with, especially related to safeguarding, and maybe churches and religious groups, this one is great to use, it’ll rally others around your position and sideline the critical, negative or disclosures. Its more effective if the persons making the accusation are in an already sidelined group, like young people, women, older people, someone with learning needs, someone from a poor background, anyone whose been judged harshly already by the majority, explicitly or implicitly, thats the best time to get away with the ‘gossip’ line.
‘Are you sure you dont belong to a Cult?’ If the person goes to a different religious group, one that is different to yours, and they are challenging you, then throw this line at them, do it especially if they have received guidance from their ‘pastor’ or ‘minister’ and its about how to cope with you.
‘This is just the ways its been/always been/ I can’t change/Just the way I am’ – There’s no way you are going to change, especially not for them, why do you even need to you are perfect as you are, so give a version of this one a try, gently let them know that this is how you have always been, (or how the organisation has always been) and by saying this, they will have to realise that they have to do any changing.
‘You need to think about my needs’. This one is great to use, after they have done some of 8, changing. Then because of the effort they have put into thinking about themselves for a while, this will help them reset to thinking about you again, and taking them back into the pattern that you liked them in, when they orientated their life around you, and you not changing. They love changing and being exhausted all the time.
‘Dont raise your voice you’ll upset the kids/someone’ . Say this when you want to give them the curveball of emotional sympathy, but not for you, for someone else. You dont feel, or get upset that often remember, neither does what they say or do upset you… but that doesn’t stop you from using someone else to create their emotional sympathy. Just gently let them know that their actions hurt someone that both you and they have a connection to, a family member, relative that kind of thing. It also gives them the knowledge that you have contact with that other person.
‘I think you might have mental health issues’. Get this one out there when they’ve gone a bit upset or really low, depressed ever since the last time they tried to talk with you. Maybe even do this in a kindly way, suggest that they get help, or make it look as if you care about them, just a little. But dont do any more than this, never find them a therapist, or book a GP appointment, no no no, just plant the seed. It’s unlikely that they’ll follow it up, it just combines a tiny bit of care, and causes them to be bewildered further. Just be really careful here though, especially if they start to go to therapy, or get help, you’ll have to find ways of pegging them down or devaluing what they are doing in this.
‘Dont you dare try and be the Victim’. When they start to even dare think of themselves as a victim of your behaviour towards them, just plant in them this little gem, it’ll reinforce to them that you control which role you are and the position from which you see the world, and there’s no way they are going to take this position from you.
‘I was just being sarcastic’. Did they not understand a comment you made that was intentionally harsh? Or they challenge you on it because it was unreasonable.. Say it was sarcastic. Now you know that they know that it wasn’t, but that doesn’t matter, just say it anyway.
‘You’re overthinking this, you read too much, best to keep it simple’. Your way is right, even if their thought through idea is a good one, demean the source of the idea (probably a book) and not them, and then appeal to an easy way. Easy avoids pain and pain is definitely something to avoid.
‘I think you expect perfection’ – Use this one to suggest that they are expecting too much of you, like anything at all or their basic needs to be met, which isn’t what you are going to do, so instead, give them the impression that what they require from you is some gigantuon effort, or extension of reality , like perfection, and instead they will have to re-assess what it might even be that they are asking.
Speak of yourself in the third person, so ‘Your father, Your wife, Your husband’ dont say ‘I’ , because your I has to stay hidden away, and can’t speak, but you can describe yourself in the present as if it might be from you, its your idealised self, not your core self talking, like ‘you know your husband/mother loves you very much’ , its not I… This also works in emails, to disguise the tenses, persons and voices, to confuse. If you’re not sure of this, use ‘God’ instead… like ‘God wouldn’t want you to get angry’, or ‘God loves you’ (even if I dont).
An extra one. Forget that you said any of these things. Every time. They didnt hear you properly when you said it, you dont remember saying it, they must have misheard you, and if you did say it how they interpreted it want what you meant. This utterly wastes their time, because theyve spent a while reacting to what you did actually say, and now you are disputing your own words, which of course you have every right to do so, and it makes them think they are crazy. You can even go further and then suggest they need their hearing tested.
Sounds harsh? It happens… a lot.
So, here’s how to gaslight and silence people. Here’s how to keep your abuse victim quiet, confused and bewildered, scared and questioning their reality. Here’s how to use language to create a culture of fear and manipulation, and for you to sit in a place of power.
If you are reading this and are horrified that I am giving away tips to abusers, then wait.
It’s very very unlikely that anyone abusive is going to read this, it is more likely that you are. You. Someone who has experienced this kind of behaviour. Because you googled the phrase ‘too sensitive’ or ‘verbal abuse’ or ‘Darvo’ or ‘Victim mentality’ or ‘self awareness’ or ‘projection’. Someone who is abusive doesn’t read a book on how to be abusive, somehow, their protectors just know, and their wounded ego can do the rest. That person isn’t going to read this list.
But if you have heard these, you are more armed. You are using your brain, you utterly clever brave courageous soul, you are resourcing yourself with the tools of your abuser, and working out their similar strategies, because they are all the same. The words being only slightly different, I’ve seen and been told almost all of these in 40 years, some more than once, and more by women than men, though I know men say these things too. There are only so many patterns and phrases in their textbook, once you’ve seen the ones above, you’ll notice them all.
Can we also broaden this out from individual relationships, to systems and structures too? How many churches wouldnt recognise these kinds of behaviours? how many might even see these as ‘normal’ ? What about in safeguarding situations? What happens when people try and defend their roles or positions or reputations? Lying to defend is too blatant, but 1/4 truth hidden in manipulation (and spiritual language) can go a long way.
Im sorry that you had to read this list, but if you have said any of these, then it’s time also to stop, reflect and listen, to the damage you have done. If you have heard these, if you hear these in the present, do consider getting help, support and emotional safety, because it might well be time that you are treated better, respected, listened to and heard.
Have you heard any more? do add them in the comments below, to share and build up a resource of them.
I was given a picture this week that has , so far, been helpful to me.
Its about string… or rope…
I was in conversation with someone who has supported me for a while through some of the challenges ive faced in the last few years, in the conversation I mentioned that whilst I am feeling generally good (and this is true, I am) , that I had ‘moved on ‘ beyond some of the things that were requiring of the support, and this is also true.
But I could sense in myself that a number of things recently had cause me to be triggered, affected, and I was in danger of reacting to them.
It doesn’t matter what they are, but they are stories of abuse investigations in churches, the swirl of conversation, and realising that although I wasn’t involved, I realise quite how easily I may have been as easily manipulated, and how my emotionally spiritually abusive childhood would have set me up to be so.
Did I ever think that I had been able to ‘let go’ of the string and cause the balloon of 40 years of abuse to just fly away?
Did I really think that? No, but maybe I hadn’t been able to create a way of explaining the dynamic of journeying through life with that upbringing as a shadow, as a thread, that plays sometimes a larger or smaller part.
I had let go of the string.
Originally it was a tight rope. I was trapped. Only with an ending in sight go leaving home at 18. Until that point it was in a toxic swirl, a large tight rope that surrounded me, suffocating, squeezing, unable to breathe, relax, unable to feel. Just the metaphorical pain of the rope burns.
Until I could see the rope, for what it is, I was led to believe I was self tightening it, that it was my rope to carry.
The balloon string used to be a thick rope.
I had to distance myself from the rope.
It could be let go of, I could now detach myself from the rope.
But as my support person said this week to me.
The String is long.
The balloon at the end of the string has lifted off, but the thread that is attached to the balloon is long.
Its got a lot of ‘lifting off’ to do before it has finally left.
I realised that there are things that happen to cause me to grab hold of the string.
And when I do, its as if the string has been coloured with a dye, and its infected me, my hands turn red, its transferred its mucky dye, and I need to noticed this, and let this cleanse out of me too.
I got angry this week, it was my detox, to get the dye out, to protect myself again. I got some ‘fucks’ out in the privacy of my own voice, my flat and in drawing them. No plates or property were damaged… ;-)
The string is long.
What if I accept that the string is long?
Actually, I have to.
The string may be all forms of dye. It is death.
Yet it tries to give off a spark.
It tries to make itself invisible too.
Just so that I touch it. Just so that I forget about it, with the hope that it gets reignited.
And it gets the chance to release its poison.
Other times it convinces itself that its ok to touch, and by then its too late.
Sometimes I do completely forget the string. Its when im having fun, its when im not thinking about it, its when im in the flow of something else.
But other times, accidental and known cause the string to be more obvious. Anniversary days, Stories of abuse, Safeguarding training even.. All to one extent reminders of the string..
But I can still choose.
I can choose how close I want to get to the string.
I choose.
What if I do something whilst holding the string – the string wants me to blame it, to play victim to the string. Tightening the grip.
Circulating the poisonous dye even further. Taking away my own power to choose.
I have that power.
Being friends with the string is to accept that it is there. It’s not to fight it. Resistance is futile and hard work. Acceptance.
A lifetime of abuse and the string is long.
But it doesn’t suffocate. Its is just there. It exists, and im not scared of it, just finding new ways to live with the string.
Its just a long string.
It requires warm playable hands to let it through my grip, to flow.
To gently notice the string and put it in its place.
Better to notice the string and let it go, again, walk away from it.
Accepting that it is long.
Noticing it and being able to talk to it, from me, the real me.
A type of mindfulness.
Loving myself releases it
Loving myself cleanses
Loving myself, doing for myself, creating fun and colour… is more rewarding that the ‘attractive’ colour dye on the string, however sparky it hopes to appear.
Accepting the long string, the threads of abuse, is better that pretending that it doesn’t exists and trying to be completely free from it. Its not realistic, its not helpful.
I have felt so so much better this week as I have began to accept the string, and in doing so detach from it.
Maybe its about keeping the darkness close, being friends with the shadow, so it can be talked to.
It is not necessary to satisfy other peoples expectations
Kishimi, Koga , The Courage to be disliked (2013)
This is hard stuff for me, so I thought I would write about it.
Most of my family, that is, both my lovely grandmothers, and more recently my Aunties, have commented on me being ‘such a good little boy’ when I was a child.
I can remember them doing this as a child, in defence of me, against my toxic mother.
My teachers said the same. In fact I remember astounding one teacher when I was 6 for wanting the spelling of a word that she thought I shouldn’t know. The word was blancmange. School reports aged 8 said that I was concientious. (not conceited) , and I didnt have google then to find out what this meant, so when I asked my parents what this word meant, there strangely wasn’t a response. I was told off for asking for a present for having a good school report.
What I didnt realise aged 8, was that this was about to be a pattern. Other people would see my gifts and general goodness, my mother would see either the opposite, de legitimise who I was or what they said.. or as ive said before..take it for herself.
But, I did learn this though… That being good (as long as I didnt ask for rewards for it) kept me out of trouble in those other places, even if I was seemingly always in trouble/danger in the home.
Nothing was good enough at home, it was impossible to win, and it was all game. But I did realise that by staying out trouble and invisible meant I was safer.
There was something else weird too. Because I wasn’t being seen. This is what I wanted, it was like this…
If only they could see what I did or who I was then they might be proud of me or love me.
But there was a complication to this.
I didnt want them anywhere near me – not publicly anyway, and so I hid or avoided achievements. I feigned disappointment when they said they couldn’t come to my duke of Edinburgh bronze award night, they were away I think and it was one of favourite events where I collected an award. Ever. So, its complicated, the desire to be seen to be good, mixed with the impending trauma of having them see it. Moments of achievement were best avoided. When I got school prizes aged 13, I didnt expect it, and I definitely didnt the next year.
But I was a good boy.
When I realised I had to be, and do this on my own – I set out at doing so.
And being a good boy, also meant and became, being a good christian boy too.
The two became synonymous, and God became intrinsically linked to the same parent figure, always watching, to be feared, temperamental, never seeing (except sin and failings). God gave me tasks to do, God was keeping a list of sins, God was storing up every thought for the last days – so I could rewatch it all. Also.. nothing I did that was actually good, this was just ‘God’ in me doing these things, because deep down im full of darkness, sin and shame, of course I am.
So I was pointlessly trying to be good. And it was exhausting.
Keeping up good appearances. At church, at school… adapting to the institutions.. believing this was what life was all about. Believing that if I was good I would be liked. Actually I noticed the opposite. The fun people had friends. The other ‘good’ kids congregated together, all the oldest child, maybe all sitting in the Christian union too.
Good christians, judging the fun others had, and being jealous that they all had friends.
A life of performance, pretence, self protection and compliance.
Imagine my surprise when I decided to a ‘christian’ gap year doing youth ministry and this caused probably 15 years of anger and disappointment in her.. because I didnt go to university at 18 (her plan and expectation) . Being good and even following a faith calling – didnt make a difference.
Because it wasn’t seen though, I then had to prove them wrong, and spent a good amount of my life doing so.
Somewhere deep in my conscious is this notion of ‘being good’, that being good somehow would mean being accepted and liked – especially in the institutions – and that maybe this being liked and accepted in these places were compensation for what I didnt have at home.
Somewhere there’s still a belief that if im good, i’ll be liked and accepted.
But this isn’t true.
And if it is, it isn’t freedom. Its trying to meet other peoples expectations.
And thats something neither I or you can control.
And maybe there’s a difference, between trying to be good – to fit in – and letting that deep inner well of goodness shine through and be revealed. Goodness needn’t mean compliance. Goodness is for all humanity.
At the risk of being disliked.
I think I could also talk about how this applies to my writing, but thats for a different time.
Its not that I see now and think that ‘being good’ ruined my life – no not at all, I needed to be good to survive, to be and get to where I am today. Being good in school and doing well was an achievement of my own doing, as was graduating to Masters level a few years ago.
I just realised that it isn’t the most important thing.
Yet I can tell that its a continual wrestle for me, as it sits so close and deep within my own psyche – and maybe yours.
If yesterday I wrote about my own joinery from self loathing and denial to becoming more self referential, respectful and also giving space to trust my feelings. Today I’ve pondered the question – what happened to me, so that I had no ‘faith’ in myself? What happened to the extent to which there was no ‘I’ in my life, to trust myself, my feelings, emotions, desires or wants.
It boils down to this
Psychopathic Parents + Evangelical Faith = No Self Trust
In these ways:
Self Trust wasn’t possible when I was told not to be selfish
Self Trust wasn’t possible when I heard that my core was sinful
Self Trust wasn’t possible when I was told I wasn’t enough
Self Trust wasn’t possible when I was told that everything good I did…wasnt me..it was God
Self trust wasn’t possible because I was made to feel embarrassed or ashamed for having emotions, desires or wants
Self trust wasn’t possible when my emotions were stolen by others.
Self Trust wasn’t possible when I wasn’t encouraged for being good (or when I was accused of being the ‘eldest son’ )
Self Trust wasn’t possible when I was terrified of upsetting my abusers.
Self Trust wasn’t possible when I was encouraged to pray that God would fix things.
Self Trust wasn’t possible..if my ‘self’ had to be denied.
Self trust wasn’t possible if I numbed the pain and disconnected.
Self trust wasn’t possible, even being clever or good… wasn’t enough.
Self trust wasn’t possible… All to Jesus I surrender.
Self Trust wasn’t possible, if Jesus gave me all my good feelings.
Self Trust was invalidated if I tried to express myself
Self Trust wasn’t possible – when my body was bad (Spirit is good) – and in my body is my emotions, feelings, desires and energy.
Self trust wasn’t possible when I was masking abuse for 40 years.
Self trust wasn’t possible if I was told who I was…and I had to accept it, whilst dying inside.
Self Trust wasn’t possible when my real self was hidden away, unseen.
Just Pray – they said. Be good – they said. Be quiet. Dont make a mess. Fulfil our expectations for you – they said. Grow up and dont be silly..they said.
Be our trophy to be proud of – they said. But do this alone.
Dont ever be who you are. Dont ever think for yourself.
Live to soothe and placate and please your abuser.
Live to please and worship God…and deny yourself in the process.
How could I respect myself, if I didnt trust myself, how could I know myself if I was hiding myself away? How could I trust myself… if God was always watching…and I had to remember sins and feel only continual guilt and shame.
I was taken..from myself.
What am I in all this?
Where am I in this?
Who am I in this?
Today. This day. This month. These last few years.
Have been unapologetically about me.
Not just ‘finding myself’ – but…actually finding, connecting, listening, feeling and knowing myself. But its no fucking wonder I had hidden myself away… or that I had no sense of self in ‘my’ life. It was all about other people. Other people and ‘other’ Gods. Losing myself in the process. I can look back and see this. Realising the extent of what I wasn’t able to be.
Reminding myself, now, of my own deep strength. Acknowledging it and accepting it, and being utterly grateful for the now.
The spills of life going inwards, deep burning of molten lava piercing into the wounds. Feeling Raw, but feeling true, feeling at all. Being me. Healing from within. One layer at a time. One pebble to climb, then a rock, then more. Step by step.
Soul, heart, mind and body on a beautiful discovery. Wonder from the heart outwards. Time to live. Spiritual life… from the inside out.
If you’re not in any way religious you might want to look away from this piece. If you are in any way religious, especially Christian, you might not like it.
I want to share something about how Evangelical Christianity suited me. More to the point, how it was perfect for me.
It’s also the story about how I left my emotions at the door of the church. Well, again, thats an inaccuracy, it was more that there was almost no necessity to show emotion in church, and that made it perfect for me. Perfect to mask and hide. But also, because of my parents influence in it, I had no choice.
When I think about the places of my childhood, I think about school, about church, about the clubs like swimming or scouts, and also the ‘free’ space in-between.
School was a place of intellectual development, primarily. And once I got my untidiness sorted, I did quite well. Once I realised I wasn’t going to be supported or helped, it was me or nothing, so I got on with it – despite my parents.
Swimming Club as well as football training and the school badminton club were all physical, Scouts was a bit of physical, and other survival activities, in which I was woeful. (I wasn’t taught how to survive life, I had to work this out, strange that) . In TA terms, my adaptive child was taking over, big time, so that I could fit and belong in these adult environments, like church.
Church was ‘Spiritual’. Yes there were physical elements, like the youth club, and badminton group, and social. But it was barely emotional. Actually.
It was anti- emotional.
I grew up Evangelical, and letting emotions loose in church was seen as ‘inferior’ , ‘scary’ or almost what ‘cult’ like churches did. As a very young child I remember not being able to breathe or make a noise sitting through the very boring service, with only a bag of toys to play with under the seat.
As an older child I was rewarded by what I knew. Memorise the verses, memorise the books of the bible, find verses quickly, find the animal/fruit in the bible verse. Do reading or learning homework. Volunteer in the Sunday school. Know things. Do things.
When I had moment of despair in my room, aged about 9, and I tried to pray, I wanted so desperately to feel something. Feel that God was listening. Feel that I was about to have some kind of divine moment that I thought I was supposed to have, then have an amazing testimony, about how God came close and I felt something. But the prayer I despaired and felt like kicking the wall, closing my eyes and ending it all felt like it didnt go any where. I remember desperately wanting to feel something. And nothing came back.
When I was 10 1/2 I ‘became’ a christian – I prayed a prayer because I had in my head all the ‘sins’ I had been made guilty of committing (I was selfish, spoiled according to my parents – oh and I felt guilt for even thinking of suicide age 9) so I prayed that ‘my sins’ were put in an bin and got rid of.
I was asked what I felt about this big decision I made. I felt nothing. I knew that I had done something. But I didnt feel any different – was I supposed to start feeling things? Maybe I got a sense of feeling a tiny bit spiritually clean, from things I had no reason to acknowledge were mine to carry in the first place. God I sound screwed up psychologically.
The adage was true though, in the main most people are sinned against than sinners, but you know, lets play on the individual sin in the guidebook for encouraging guilt, then dependence, and an easy victim to it. Trauma in the family that a child may have experienced is far too difficult to deal with.
I digress, back to the ‘knowing’….
I remember the songs, from Sunday school and beyond.
‘Be Still and ‘Know’
‘For this is ‘Know’
‘Knowing you Jesus, there is no greater thing…..’ (The ‘Kendrick’ Abba song, knowing me knowing you…Jesus..)
Dont get me wrong, there were some songs about being happy (The Happy Song) and dancing too. But these seemed forced…no one ever felt like dancing…
Songs, Sermons, remembering information. Engaged the brain.
Space for silence, space to feel, limited.
Then, when I was 13 I discovered this:
It was in a tract by Agape Ministries in the UK, and my church undertook the ministry of it (and I did as a young leader and keen one) , to do a course on evangelism, that included 5-6 weeks on it, and then use a tract, ‘Knowing God Personally’ – that described the ‘bridge’ and the had this train on the back.
The premise of the train was that Faith was based on Fact (and not feelings) and that feelings somehow were the carriage that followed on behind. Facts. Knowledge were important.
Feelings followed.
Faith was based on fact, because, it was important to know the bible, know the facts, know that it was historical, know that it was true – historically, know so that an argument could be ‘won’ , know so that faith was subject to what was described as the ‘turbulence’ of emotions.
It also meant that even if I didnt ‘feel’ happy – or ‘feel’ that God was close, that I ‘knew’ that God was and that this provided certainty… apparently.
As a young person who knew their trains. As a young person that had disconnected from their emotions – this was all great.
Feelings were just an added bonus extra and not to be regarded at all.
I could hide having feelings even more. And when I did have any feelings or emotions in life, over the next few years, or more – I could then ‘know’ that these weren’t what God would want me to have – feel shame for having them – and then consider it to be sinful to feel – and then ‘get back to knowing’ . Read the bible, Read, dont feel. Learn.
If you know, you know – but the ‘Toronto Blessing’ stuff made things interesting for a few years. My ‘knowledge’ orientated church was cautious, compared to more charismatics. People ‘felt’ in the church for the first time, and it made them weird. And I went along to some of the weirdness, and I was determined that I wasn’t going to ‘feel’ the hype. It was the only time that permitted feelings came to church in my time. And it was pretty mad. And for those who for whom it was too mad, they retreated back to the safety of knowledge and facts.
For me?
I went on to become a ‘leader’ in churches, and so I had to be ‘responsible’. Therefore showing emotions wasn’t part of it. I had to be mature, I had to know things, I had to lead, inspire and have integrity. I had to cope. I could be professional. I could be ‘adult’. I could leave all and any child behind.
As someone who had a disconnected sense of self, (and what I learned about ‘self’ spiritually is a whole other post) , church could easily be a place where I could hide emotions, where praise was heaped for stoical behaviour, and the pursuit of knowledge.
Maybe now I have language for all of this experiences, growing up even in the early 1990’s where there was no conversation about emotions…anywhere, especially not for boys. Adapting into ‘Adult’ life as quickly as I could was what I needed to do, run away from childhood asap, and leave behind what that represented, emotions, play and curiosity. Was feelings free Christianity really what was on offer? Maybe thats not what was intended, but it meant that I could negate that carriage of the train, in regard to my spiritual life.
I wonder now what the cost is and has been. I wonder how common this is in other denominations around the UK or beyond. I wonder whether emotions in church are ‘just’ for the hysterical or depressed, and how these are to be ‘got rid of’ or ‘discarded’ for being uncomfortable or in some way unspiritual. Im not blaming the church I grew up in for what it didnt know, but I also know that there were many in that church who were as bewildered and scared of the same monster that I had to encounter every day.
Maybe it all goes back to way before the ‘Fact Train’ , Karen Armstrong writes about how the myth of the sacred story was turned into a desire for objective fact of the Biblical narratives, around 400 years ago. The feeling of the camp fire story making way for the cognitive reading, but this isn’t a general history lesson on theological feelings and emotions, its about how I could leave feelings and emotions at the door of the church, but in reality, I could leave them buried deep down, hidden away, and mask the childhood emotional abuse that happened.
It has been a long road, a long rail even. It has been one for me in which I have begun to let the feelings and emotions out of the shadows, and be accepted as part of me.
If you’d like to read more on my Spiritual Journey, or the resources that have helped me to reconnect my emotional life with my spiritual one, do have a look at the resources above. I particularly recommend Eckhart Tolle, and Gary Zukav, though there are others too.
James Ballantyne 