Re: Is innate resilence the key?

[Guest guest]

Annie,

It is interesting how we all react differently. In another thread here, some

were comparing how their mothers demanded academic excellence from them, etc. My

mother never demanded this from me, but I excelled academically anyways, in the

hopes that it would get me noticed as a person, not just as a possession. Didn't

work. My mother was proud of me as a possession not as a person. And that always

hurt. It's really hard to hear her say the words " I'm so proud of you " because

there is something so weird about the way she says it. It's not believable, and,

to me, she's proud of me in some way that allows her to brag about me to

friends. Yet she never had anything to do with any of my success.

I also never equated her behavior with normal. (I never knew it was a disorder,

I just thought it was her.) I knew other people's families didn't behave that

way. I think that the survival of the KO in the BPD environment is largely

affected by how they are cared for by other adults. I realize now that I had

many other adults in my life that I looked up to and replaced as role models

over my parents. Unfortunately, some KOs will not have other caring adults in

their lives. I worry for them.

But make no mistake, even with other adults in my life, I still am susceptible

to FOG, hoovering, emotional triggers, etc.

[Guest guest]

Hi Kay,

That was my comment that you're quoting. I like hearing about this research. I

find it validating somehow to know that this research reflects my own

experience. I always wondered why I was able to survive this screwed up family

dynamic--and part of me wondered if it was just luck and that one day it would

run out. But hearing about your class and what you're learning reassures me in a

way that it's not just luck.

[Guest guest]

I think that, in addition to having a " helping witness " as a child, two other

things may come into play. One is having something you're good at and get

praised for, so you know you have good things about you and you know you're

competent at something. The other I think must have to do with the amount of

inherited brain dysfunction you got from nada or fada (or, in the case of some

really unfortunate folks, nada *and* fada.)

Looking back at my own family history, I hear stories told about my great

grandmother that people called " lazy " way back when, but actually sound like

severe clinical depression. Then I look at my grandfather's behavior and wonder

if he isn't actually borderline as well. Both nada and aunt have severe

emotional problems. Then there is my uncle, their brother, who got out

relatively unscathed. That with all the new research has me thinking a lot

about the heritability of the trait having something to do with this.

--.

[Guest guest]

Interesting...my younger brother did not make it out as well as I did. I'm in

Corporate America, he suffers the long-lasting affects of meth addiction. We

were raised the same. The one difference, you guessed it, I read like a fiend.

I escaped into books and I read The Little House on the Prairie books and I saw

a picture of what I thought or innately knew what a good family was supposed to

be like. I knew mine didn't measure up even if people in mine loved eachother.

Maybe that understanding inoculated me from further psychological damage? I

wonder. Anyone else have similar experiences?

My life and my brother's is like night and day. He chose the same addictive

path my parents did, I'm in Corporate America doing just fine but healing. I

will be fine and totally okay, I know that...I think somewhere I always knew

that. Even though I knew things weren't right, there was a part of my spirit

they could never touch. A part that remained whole and strong. Survivor

instinct from an emotional perspective? I don't even know.

>

> I am reading all this with wonder. To find others who understand is such a

gift of validation of my sanity.

> In reference to resilient children, I always wondered why I seemed to rise

above, or not be as beaten down by my mother's behavior as my brothers, I always

attributed it to my reading. As a child I was a voracious reader, especially

loved were Little women, Little men, Heidi, The seven little peppers and how

they grew and Indian Captive. I believed through them I was able to see and

incorporate what a loving family, loving parent was and could recognize that my

parents, my family was not as it should be.

> I gave myself the image of what a family should be and did not accept the

dysfunctional one I lived with.

> Or am I giving myself too much credit and it is simply a matter of a

personality trait I was born with? I would rather think that somehow I was able

to protect and nurture myself in some small way.

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Interesting...my younger brother did not make it out as well as I did. I'm in

Corporate America, he suffers the long-lasting affects of meth addiction. We

were raised the same. The one difference, you guessed it, I read like a fiend.

I escaped into books and I read The Little House on the Prairie books and I saw

a picture of what I thought or innately knew what a good family was supposed to

be like. I knew mine didn't measure up even if people in mine loved eachother.

Maybe that understanding inoculated me from further psychological damage? I

wonder. Anyone else have similar experiences?

My life and my brother's is like night and day. He chose the same addictive

path my parents did, I'm in Corporate America doing just fine but healing. I

will be fine and totally okay, I know that...I think somewhere I always knew

that. Even though I knew things weren't right, there was a part of my spirit

they could never touch. A part that remained whole and strong. Survivor

instinct from an emotional perspective? I don't even know.

>

> I am reading all this with wonder. To find others who understand is such a

gift of validation of my sanity.

> In reference to resilient children, I always wondered why I seemed to rise

above, or not be as beaten down by my mother's behavior as my brothers, I always

attributed it to my reading. As a child I was a voracious reader, especially

loved were Little women, Little men, Heidi, The seven little peppers and how

they grew and Indian Captive. I believed through them I was able to see and

incorporate what a loving family, loving parent was and could recognize that my

parents, my family was not as it should be.

> I gave myself the image of what a family should be and did not accept the

dysfunctional one I lived with.

> Or am I giving myself too much credit and it is simply a matter of a

personality trait I was born with? I would rather think that somehow I was able

to protect and nurture myself in some small way.

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Books were my salvation, too..

Mine, too! And it also seems that a lot of resilients were self-parenting from

ideals and healthy patterns they learned from books.

It also might explain why so many of us also seem to be writers .

Kay

[Guest guest]

Books were my salvation, too..

Mine, too! And it also seems that a lot of resilients were self-parenting from

ideals and healthy patterns they learned from books.

It also might explain why so many of us also seem to be writers .

Kay

[Guest guest]

Yenaine - YES! You are very right. I think it is harder, or at least just plain

hard, for the " golden " child.

I was my father's golden child. I could do no wrong--as long as I always did as

he said and agreed with me. As long as I wasn't noisy. As long as I sat around

reading books. As long as I didn't show any interest in boys or show signs that

I was growing up.

For some reason, my father really disliked my brother. I don't know if I will

ever know why. [My father is dead.]

I can feel myself even now, getting upset about this, how my father would use me

against my brother. " Why can't you be more like your sister? Your sister did it

right? Why can't you? "

One memory I will never, ever forget and that I have trouble understanding WHY

my father did this: my brother loved his comic books. Even now, he loves them.

My father could be very, very mean and mean-spirited. He saw how much my

brother relished his comics. So one day, he gets on my brother's case about

something he did wrong, so my father says to me, " Fiona, bring me the comic

books. " My brother started to scream. [it is very, very hard to write this.]

I said no. He said, " Fiona NOW. " So I brought them to him. Compliant and

obedient. He slowly and with a big smile ripped them up in front of my brother.

It was so cruel. I still feel such shame and guilt over that and so many other

times my father chose me over my brother and I hated my father for it. I hated

being liked by him.

I became my brother's rescuer and cheerleader, to the point of codependence.

Now, I avoid his company, I'm sure in part because of all these dynamics, but

also because it's just hard to be around him. He's a very melancholy, solitary

person and it takes me so much energy to take in all he has to say. I know that

I know that I know my father scarred him for life, emotionally. But he won't

get help.

Anyway, yes, it sucks being the golden one. I'm glad I'm not any more. I wish

I'd had the courage to grab the comics and run out of the room.

Fiona

> > >

> > > Annie,

> > >

> > > It is interesting how we all react differently. In another thread here,

some were comparing how their mothers demanded academic excellence from them,

etc. My mother never demanded this from me, but I excelled academically anyways,

in the hopes that it would get me noticed as a person, not just as a possession.

Didn't work. My mother was proud of me as a possession not as a person. And that

always hurt. It's really hard to hear her say the words " I'm so proud of you "

because there is something so weird about the way she says it. It's not

believable, and, to me, she's proud of me in some way that allows her to brag

about me to friends. Yet she never had anything to do with any of my success.

> > >

> > > I also never equated her behavior with normal. (I never knew it was a

disorder, I just thought it was her.) I knew other people's families didn't

behave that way. I think that the survival of the KO in the BPD environment is

largely affected by how they are cared for by other adults. I realize now that I

had many other adults in my life that I looked up to and replaced as role models

over my parents. Unfortunately, some KOs will not have other caring adults in

their lives. I worry for them.

> > >

> > > But make no mistake, even with other adults in my life, I still am

susceptible to FOG, hoovering, emotional triggers, etc.

> > >

> >

>

[Guest guest]

Fiona you were a child used by a manipulative adult so don't blame yourself

so much. You are not guilty for your brother's melancholy and unhappiness,

your father owe the responsibility. My sister sometimes did similar things

to me too ( to take nada or fada side) but I don't blame her for that. She

was too little and too confused. And at the end she payed enormous price for

not to be able to oppose or to struggle. Even with her life.

It is so sad that our parents use us in such a horrible way and make us

" enemies " instead of good friends.

Yenaine

2011/1/20 Fiona

>

>

> Yenaine - YES! You are very right. I think it is harder, or at least just

> plain hard, for the " golden " child.

>

> I was my father's golden child. I could do no wrong--as long as I always

> did as he said and agreed with me. As long as I wasn't noisy. As long as I

> sat around reading books. As long as I didn't show any interest in boys or

> show signs that I was growing up.

>

>

For some reason, my father really disliked my brother. I don't know if I

> will ever know why. [My father is dead.]

>

> I can feel myself even now, getting upset about this, how my father would

> use me against my brother. " Why can't you be more like your sister? Your

> sister did it right? Why can't you? "

>

> One memory I will never, ever forget and that I have trouble understanding

> WHY my father did this: my brother loved his comic books. Even now, he loves

> them. My father could be very, very mean and mean-spirited. He saw how much

> my brother relished his comics. So one day, he gets on my brother's case

> about something he did wrong, so my father says to me, " Fiona, bring me the

> comic books. " My brother started to scream. [it is very, very hard to write

> this.] I said no. He said, " Fiona NOW. " So I brought them to him. Compliant

> and obedient. He slowly and with a big smile ripped them up in front of my

> brother. It was so cruel. I still feel such shame and guilt over that and so

> many other times my father chose me over my brother and I hated my father

> for it. I hated being liked by him.

>

> I became my brother's rescuer and cheerleader, to the point of

> codependence. Now, I avoid his company, I'm sure in part because of all

> these dynamics, but also because it's just hard to be around him. He's a

> very melancholy, solitary person and it takes me so much energy to take in

> all he has to say. I know that I know that I know my father scarred him for

> life, emotionally. But he won't get help.

>

> Anyway, yes, it sucks being the golden one. I'm glad I'm not any more. I

> wish I'd had the courage to grab the comics and run out of the room.

>

> Fiona

>

>

[Guest guest]

Yenaine,I can relate to alot of what you wrote here!

The teaching yourself to read: highly intelligent children are able to do

that and as adults they will remember how they did it and in such cases

trickery is often involved when the desire of a young child to learn is

discounted by adults who just don't understand that this expression of interest

in learning on the child's part is an indication of actual ability not just a

caprice.You were very resourceful to use the words on the news to learn how to

read...and then you grew up to become a journalist...No coincidence there,I

think

I remember my own nada refusing to teach me to read although I asked her

to,kind of sneering at me.She did read to me,though,so I did have that help.I

had a couple of books I really liked and knew by heart,so my " tricking " nada was

having her read me those books and I concentrated on following what she said

from the first word on the page and one day when I was two it all just made

sense and I could *read* the words of those stories I knew so well.

I don't know about you,but when I got to kindergarten I could already read

everything the teacher was teaching us and I was so bored.

What you said about finding out there were alot of different realities

outside your crazy family and little town and that you just had to protect

yourself until you could run away--wow--I could have said the exact same thing

myself!!! I was *fascinated* with foreign countries and " the rest of the

world " .I dreamed and dreamed of leaving that shitty little town,of the day when

I finally could

I also realized the year I was twelve that I didn't have parents and I

was on my own and that I'd have to do it all by myself.The outcome of that,for

me also,was a bit crazy! I literally thought that I had to completely depend on

myself.That I had to figure everything out for myself.I seemed very self

confident but deep down I wasn't.Deep down I felt lost and alone,but I didn't

know how to reach out for help.I ended up having to learn most things the hard

way,through very painful trial and much error.

Yes,it's ultimately liberating when you can see what your problems

are.It's a point of focus to know what you need to change.My brother was the

" golden " one and it's like he was devoured whole by nada and fada and like you

said he never apprehended what was hideously wrong about our upbringing when for

me I had suffered so much from it that it was more obvious,but he lost all true

sense of self.He resents me and despises me...I'm so sorry your sister died

indirectly from getting caught in the net of your family's dysfunction.The need

to disengage is clearer to the " split bad " for sure but making your own way

without a map or a compass...it's still so hard to break out of the family

prison,like clawing your way out! My brother,in my case,has been sitting on his

hands and blaming *me* but long story subject for another topic: I think he's

got some personality disorder of his own going on.

Anyway thanks for sharing about your early reading,your awareness of a

world bigger than the one you were in,the realization of needing to raise

yourself...I lived a similar subjective reality!

>

> The books were my solution too. I don't remember neither one person who would

help me in any way when I was living with my prmial family.

>

> But when I was 3 years old I learned how to read - by myself. They refused

to teach me saying I'm too young for that so I tricked them :-) I watched tv

news with them always asking " what is written on screen " ( for example , from

Paris, or London, or.....)

>

> In primary school I have already read books for grown ups including books

about psychology ( from university) and soon I've found out that that there are

a lot of different realities outside my crazy family and little town where I

lived and that I have to protect myself to survive until I can ran away.

>

> So I decided to raise myself - I didn't have anybody else to do it... I was

about 12 - 13 years old. The outcome was a little bit crazy :-) - problems with

excepting help because of my total independence and not trusting others,

problems with authorities, lack of some " normal " social skills...but I'm proud

that I escaped from craziness of my family and I did managed to crate my own

(healthier) world. There were moments when I reacted similar like nada or fada

but I managed ( with a looooot of effort to heal and change that)

>

> My sister wasn't that lucky. They sucked her into their craziness ( all family

was crazy one way or another), she refuse to see that she had problems and

refuse to confront with her past. She is dead now - indirectly because of that (

long story).

>

> Sometimes she said to me - You are so lucky you have enough power for

changes...But this power came out from little steps I did ( confronting,

trying, falling, trying again, learning, trying , falling again...) and bit by

bit knowledge and power came. I was not so " powerfull " at the beginning of my

journey, I was totally scared, confused when I was little......the same like

her. But she was kind of conformist, she always choose the easier ways and

shortcuts, she always refuse to take ( even small) steps, she just trying to

find others who would do things for her and until the very and she was convinced

that one day some miracle will happen and everything will be different.

>

> Maybe because she was a " golden " child and I was a " bed " one. I think it's

much harder for the " golden " ones - it is harder to recognize that something is

terribly , terribly wrong - the abuse is not so obviouse.

>

> Yenaine