I was reading an article recently that was written by a woman that grew up in this small town, moved away for school and then moved back. She was waxing poetic about the people in the community and how they were the reasons to come “home”. There was this strong connection and love for your family and childhood friends that lived there that was so important. Being a part of the small community was the best because they were united and always had your back…
… um, didn’t I just listen to you trash your best friend and her family over lunch? And weren’t you the one also telling me those nasty stories about your boss and how much the town disliked her and her family?
Where exactly is the love and connection and support there?
I’m not feeling it.
You see, that’s what no one ever talks about. There are many small town folks that thrive on malicious gossip about each other. It’s just what they do and they see nothing wrong with the harmful and untrue lies they spread about their friends and neighbors. It’s a way of living they grew up with, like Snuffy Smith’s wife, Louisa, over the backyard fence chewing the fat with their neighbor. It’s how the “news” was shared long before there were newspapers, televisions and community forums, except this would be the news whispered behind your back. Continue reading
that’ll be 5 cents please!
I am someone that believes in talking therapies. I think sitting in front of someone that is professionally trained to tease out and notice the nuance of what you might be bumbling through, is a healing process.
This being said, I also acknowledge that Cluster B personality disorders do not benefit in a healthy way from talking therapies. What happens when they participate is they are able to hone their already screwed up ways of dealing with life. For instance; someone I used to know used what she learned from her therapist to manipulate and exploit her 80 year old grandmother into doing exactly what she wanted her to do. When she proudly told me how she did it and how successful the experiment ended up being, I wanted to vomit.
Cluster B personality disorders and talking therapies are a recipe for disaster, however a good therapist knows rather quickly who they’re working with and they do try to keep the sessions tame.
There used to be this stigma attached to seeing a therapist. People wondered what was wrong with you and if you were actually a bit loopy. Fear of the unknown and asking someone to poke around into your emotions is sometimes scary, but once you get started the relief you feel and the catharsis of unloading and getting rid of those ideas that have you paralyzed with terror is beyond amazing. Those days of fanciful speculation and magical thinking are hopefully in the past as a multitude of folks are benefiting from “laying on that couch”.
If you ever feel compelled to judge someone because they are seeing a therapist, perhaps instead of judging them you should ask yourself why that scares you so much. I’m going to have say right here; don’t knock it, if you haven’t tried it.
How do talking therapies help? Continue reading
There are folks in this life that can weave a web of deceit for their own agenda that is intricate, beautiful and deadly, all at the same time. I have been fortunate to watch this process from beginning to sticky end and have marveled at the energy spent in order to reach the ultimate climax.
And yet, I am still perplexed at exactly what has been accomplished.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table with Constance and she’s busy chain smoking and relating yet another tragic event that’s going on in her life. It seems all of her events involve the same players, so five minutes into it my eyes start to glaze over. It’s always the same theme too, but every time I stand in awe at how she handles these people in her life. It always seems to work in her favor. Or, at the very least, she always seems to get what she needs from it.
Today she’s whining about how her mother loves her sister Donatella way more than she’s ever loved Constance. Her sister, Donatella, has the perfect children (in between puffs Constance takes a deep breathe to scream at her own children who are playing upstairs “Shut the fuck up or I’m going to come up there and beat the shit out of you both!!”) and Donatella is the smartest, the prettiest, etc. But in reality, according to Constance, Donatella’s children are spoiled rotten brats and Donatella is a clueless bitch with a cheating husband.
After providing the backdrop of horrible Donatella, she finishes the new story that’s causing her angst on this day and I listen. Continue reading
I have this cousin. I speak about her in the present tense, though I am quite certain that if you mentioned my name to her today she would respond with a “Who?” It wouldn’t be because she doesn’t know who you’re talking about, because she would. It would be because she doesn’t want to remember me.
I was doing searches on Facebook the other day and plinked her name in the Search bar just to see if she was out there. And there she was. I was only hoping to see her picture, to see how she had changed, if she was smiling. Imagine my surprise to find out her Wall was open to the public! I clicked on her Wall. I didn’t know what I’d find. Continue reading
Posted in Facebook Advice, Memories good and bad
Tagged abusive relatives, bullies, children, cousins, hidden hatred, lessons, lessons to learn, looking back, passive aggressive behavior, protecting yourself, sisters, the past
Dense with the spoils of the sea.
Eroded by persistence.
Pushed over with the force of nature.
Left behind and almost forgotten.
I was chatting with a friend the other day and our conversation was about having our buttons pushed. She told me that it wasn’t as much about why they were pushed, but more about how they were pushed. When you get bogged down in the details of why something happened, you tend to totally miss how it happened in the first place. This was something I was interested in learning more about.
Since I have seriously taken on reshaping how I deal with situations that make me uncomfortable, learning how not to have my buttons pushed to the point of being uncomfortable would be the first step in successfully filtering out those people in my life. Continue reading