Don't Fuck with My little Child

Thank God I had therapy yesterday afternoon. I sat in my bucket chair in my therapist's office and talked and cried and talked. I felt like I was in a cocoon where I could finally allow all the very sore stuff that I've known is around me to just land. It came to me then, in a trembling, inarticulate, almost mute way. And I cried. And she just held that place for me and let me. And soothed me. And reminded me that this is 5 year old me, finally just allowing the pain I've been running from for over 40 years to just land. In a way that 47 year old me could hold. And tolerate. And feel without breaking.

And I think I finally got to feel how it must be for me to hold that little broken girl part of me. Not banish her. Or humiliate her by making her feel wrong for just being 5. But just hold her deeply close to me and love her. Soothe her. Help her know that I will never abandon her again.

I abandoned her yesterday. I let Berlin get away with a vicious and cruel attack on her. In a moment where her deep need to feel held surfaced, I sent yesterday's blog to him. He misread it. Misunderstood it. Sent me back a long and brutal rebuke. I took it - humiliated that I had allowed him to see that vulnerable moment of mine. Angry with myself for being so needy. Reversing out of his life so quickly I felt myself spinning. Was embarrassed. Wanted to explain. Distance myself from that needy and love-craving child. Abandoned her. Made her feel wrong. Rebuked myself for being too much. Needing too much. Making a nuisance of myself.

But she helped me imagine a different angle on it. What if that little girl was a real person, separate from me? A little girl. My daughter. Bruised. Beaten. Raped. Abandoned and alone in her cupboard.What would I do if Berlin had said those things directly to her? Pushed her away like she was worthless. Undeserving of the time and care she needed to heal. Unwanted. Badly behaved. A nuisance. Not conforming to the picture that he had of how she should be.

Well I'd beat the living shit out of him, wouldn't I? I'd fiercely ban him from ever coming close to her again. I'd show him what batshit crazy really looked like and make sure he never forgot, ever again. And then I'd turn my back on him and sweep her into my arms. And hold her so so close. And tell her that I know how much she's hurting. And that it's ok. And that I would hold her close every time she hurt like that. Until the hurt goes away.

And then I'd tell her I'm so sorry for letting that hard man so close to her that he could harm her. And reassure her that  she wasn't wrong to think that maybe he would care for her a bit. That needing love and care for so very long makes anyone reach for it with yearning if it feels nearby. That she wasn't wrong. And that I would give her all the love she needs, and she won't have to try to get it from any other man, ever again.

Don't run. Stay awhile, Trudy

I don't know what to say. Reams and reams of this flipping blog end up being about Berlin. Who is NOT my lover. Who doesn't want to BE my lover. Who thinks he wants to be friends with me. But him and me being friends isn't going so well. We keep getting to a sad and sore place. And I suspect it's me taking us there. Because I can't sort out how I'm feeling. And I keep having expectations of this relationship that are clearly off base.

So it feels horrible all this. And so I keep writing about it. And the obvious thing to do would be to just walk away from it all. Be like Berlin. Cut it and leave. Give up. Coffee with a mate yesterday had exactly that as the topic - Trudy this isn't good for you. It's hurting you. Walk. Put up your boundaries and walk. Protect yourself already. As I'm writing that I'm wondering if I am even capable of that. It took everything in me to do that to John. And we were in a terribly extreme place by the time I had the courage to do just that.

Is this what this whole thing is for? For me to practice my boundary setting? I'm getting such horrible trauma flashbacks from the early days with John-the-narc. I have no idea whether Berlin is a closet Narc or not. I don't think so. But I'm still feeling the same stuff. Feeling forgotten and discarded when he 'forgets' about our weekend wine moment. Feeling like I must have somehow got it wrong. Struggling with his Facebook messenger activity when he's ignoring my messages. Struggling with not knowing - I'm being so very open with him about what I'm thinking and feeling and doing. And he's just so much more closed. Has he found another 5 online girls to play with? Is that why he's pulling away from me? Am I just so fkn desperate and needy that he's actually just humouring me but really can't see himself putting up with it much longer?

I wish I could tell you how incredibly painful it feels inside me. I KNOW this pain doesn't come from Berlin. It's old old pain that is surfacing when I deal with him. But it doesn't stop it coming. And the brutality of the pain doesn't leave just because he was just the trigger, not the originator.

As I was walking into work this morning I was feeling angry with myself that I'm still struggling with all of this PAIN so many months after the breakup with John. Things are better. The company is almost sold. Our future looks great. I've turned the company around financially. I have a legacy to continue building and lots of work in the pipeline. My family is settling down. And yet all of this stuff in me is fucking fucking sore still!!

 It started me thinking about the aftermath of a Tsunami. The day it hits all you feel is the devastation of the wave. Walking through the debris. Seeing maybe the foundations of the house that you used to live in. The roads you used to walk. But it's all gone. Broken. Lost. And once you've got past the shock and grief of the loss, the rebuilding begins. But it's not a straight line. Debris lies everywhere. Waste must be disposed of. Parts are rebuilt, and other parts are left for awhile - no bandwidth. No resources to repair them. Trauma memory keeps surfacing. Moving between hope and energy and loss, grief and despair.

I'm trying again to just sit with this pain. Not run from it. Or sanitize it. Or find another boy to just eliminate it for a while. Feel it and go through it. Although I do catch myself reaching out to a boy for comfort. But the Universe is clearly not allowing that to happen for me right now. Comfort is tantalizingly nearby but out of reach for now.

Go through this pain Trudy. Feel the ache of mommy neglect and abandonment. Feel the need and the wrenching of that being denied. Feel it. Hold yourself safe. It's the only way you are ever going to find your way back to yourself.

Letting Go

I'm trying to apply girlfriend rules here. I have to. Berlin has been very clear that we're in the friend zone and that we're not going to be dating material. I've accepted that and have done my best to respect it. So not boyfriend rules. Girlfriend rules.

So if my girlfriend and I said we would try to get together over the weekend for some wine, and she said to me that Friday wasn't going to work but we'll see how to fit it in on the weekend, then I guess I'd be expecting we'd meet up some time on the the weekend. And if I told her that it was my weekend with my kids because husband was going away with his girlfriend so I would need some notice so I could plan around managing my kids, she would probably give me some sort of idea of when that might (or might not) happen so I could start thinking through my options.

What a girlfriend wouldn't do, I don't think, is just not do it. Just never refer to our potential wine time and let me find out the long, drawn-out way, that its not going to happen. So I find out by Saturday evening that it's not going to happen on Saturday because it didn't. And then find out by Sunday evening that it's not going to happen then either. That the weekend would pass and my friend and I weren't going to have a drink together at all.

Because a girlfriend would know I would be counting on that time together because I have already told her how starved I am of connection time at the moment. And how much I need time with my friends right now. And, if for some reason she couldn't see me, she would have told me, apologising and demonstrating her own regret. And give me time to try to connect with another friend - set up time and have some connection time that I so badly need.

I suppose the one difference between Berlin and another 'girlfriend' is that I would have asked. Again. 'Hey - are we still going to have that wine'? And he would have had to respond. But I couldn't do that. I'd put myself too much out there by asking for the time so soon after our last connection.  So it felt too vulnerable for me to follow it up when it was being so obviously ignored. And our last conversation was hard and awkward and so so so vulnerable. I just couldn't find the strength to put myself on the line again and set myself up for more rejection and 'Trudy Please...' conversations.

So I really am going to treat this the way I have when other girlfriends have demonstrated their lack of intent and care of me and my time. I'm just going to let it go. No big confrontation No putting myself out there for more humiliating conversations. No more trying to insert myself into his life when he clearly doesn't really mind if I'm there or not. If he really wants me in his life - I'm sure he'll make the effort to come and fetch me. And if he doesn't - well then I'm doing the right thing by defining my boundaries better for myself.

I must move on - putting my time and thought and emotional energy in a place where it will matter more.

And try move past how very sore it feels.

When Work is Thrilling

What an awesome day I had yesterday! I spent the morning in a meeting that I had BLED to set up - got some of my Environmental Government clients to sit around the table with Mark, my Fund Manager man who sources huge money for huge projects. I can't obviously talk about the details of the potential deals that could happen, other than to say I'm so excited about what benefits they will bring to my country.

The conversation was clever and strategic - clever people around the table bringing very diverse skills and insights to the table and co creating solutions that none of them would have come up with on their own!  And I was able to test some of my own new models and thinking about how to bring new revenue into the sector that will benefit the sector, but also create work for my company for many years to come.

There is nothing more thrilling for me than being able to be part of these kinds of conversations. I've said it before, and I'm still saying it. It's like every passion of mine rolled into one: all my environmental passion that led me to choose Geography as my teaching subject; strategic thinking; innovating and sniffing out future trends; clever financial models; sales conversations and people activation; finding new opportunities for my company; looking at how to bolster the sustainability of the small business sector; looking at Green Jobs and Green Entrepreneurs. Even picking the right people to put together in that room for that conversation is part of what I'm good at. I am in love with new beginnings. I love building the future in my head. Whenever this happens to me, I know I will sit back in 5 to 10 years time and look back on these early conversations and brainwaves and know they fostered brand new things.  Today over 200 000 people have been trained in Financial Literacy skills by my company, and 70  small business have been created. That's because I started having conversations like these!

And how horrible that I allowed John-the-Narc to close me down from this part of myself for so many years. He dominated my time. Fought with me for hours about ridiculously stupid things like whether I said 'I' or 'We' in a conversation when talking about the work we're doing to clients or staff. Really. We could have a all-fall-down blow up screaming match about just that thing. Where after hours of yelling, one of us would be out the driveway with screaming tyres and a staff just tiptoeing around because 'Mom and Dad are fighting again'. THAT was how he dominated me. Stole my time. Stole my energy. Stole my brain. By creating bullshit drama and chaos and mess that I was having to deal, clean up and manage daily, rather than focusing on the strategic innovation and growth that I'm so capable of doing.

And so being able to step back into my own light is a wonderful experience for me. It's like standing naked under a waterfall after walking through a desert for 5 years. I am slowly but surely finding a way back to myself that is stronger and fresher than I have ever experienced before.

And I feel my power slowly returning to my body. My Mind. My Soul.

Brave Conversations

So Berlin and I went out last night. He humoured me and we met at a place near to his house. He decided to hear me out.

I found it really difficult to have the conversation with him. I felt my courage desert me as we met and I just had thousands of words gushing out of me about everything else but the conversation we had met to have. He finally said - "Ok - so what is this important conversation you wanted to have?". Even then, I panicked. I told him he needed to give me time to settle down and warm up - and that I was building up the courage to talk. He smiled and humoured me some more.

Eventually I just decided to read yesterday's blog out loud to him. The words were there, and the thinking was there, and I guess that felt the most doable. So we searched the article on his phone (because mine was out of battery), and I read it to him.

It's hectic stuff, yesterday's blog. It's at some level a culmination of a whole year's worth of therapy and insights that are not pretty or flattering to me in any way. So it's kind of brutal to just blurt it all out, even if it's true. It's raw and clumsy and hard.

When I finished we were awkward. Neither of us really knew what to say. I decided not to be all 'socially fluid' about it. I let us both feel awkward. I let us just be real. I really did need to see if he could cope with it all. I know he's not a stranger to abuse - he's had a fair dollop of that kind of thing himself in his life. And so he didn't need to do the 'shame poor you' thing - he gets it. I get it. We're both survivors of horrible stuff and we don't need to be all 'sorry' for each other.

He asked me why I'm building a house in that same place where all that hectic childhood stuff happened. He left his horrible stuff way behind him geographically and he can't imagine staying and being regularly confronted with everything. I get his point - I'm more about transforming the place as I transform myself. Like confronting my demons and ghosts seems to be more of the process that's right for me. He copes by walking away. I cope by wrestling this stuff to the ground and not frikken letting it go until I know how it ends.

And then we just settled into a comfortable conversation. No longer awkward. Nice. He drinks more than me (most people do). We found an easy place together.

We're in the 'friend-zone'. I want to say 'for now'. That would irritate him and me. Him because he thinks 'always'. Me because I think 'you never know how shit turns out'. Nothing is forever. People change. Circumstances change.

But Friend Zone is now our current official status.

The Invisible Child finds a Voice

The photograph I chose for this piece rings deeply true for me. As the eldest daughter of three girls all born within 18 months of each other, to a narcissistic mother, I was very invisible, very quickly. In even a normal home when there are three children under the age of 4, the oldest is expected to grow up fast and take care of herself. But when mom is also a Narcissist, then there is very little left for her. Me. Very early in my life, my needs became invisible. I became the lost little girl craving the love and attention that any child would. But my mom didn’t care. And my dad just escaped the wrath of my mom and the neediness of his little daughters.

That lost and invisible little girl became the impotent and powerless protector of her sisters. And the absorber of her mom’s outrage and vindictive anger. I remember lying in my bed, hearing my younger sister being verbally and physically lambasted for being clumsy, trying to throw a protective shield around her. Trying to hold her inside my heart. Because I was never any match for that wild and fierce woman my mother was. And I would be so relieved to hear her finally slam the doors on my sister and all the other doors through the house. Because now her beating had stopped, and she would be alright. I never feared for my own beatings and emotional abuse. I don’t think I even believed it was unfair or undeserved. But I really  really couldn’t bear it when she did it to my sister. My clumsy, stuttering, weak sister. I couldn’t bear it. I never went to comfort her after those times. I left her sobbing in her bed. Even as little girls we couldn’t be close. But I still thought I was her protector. And I failed her as that almost every day.

But this is about me. I am the daughter of a Narcissistic mother. I lived with abuse like it was normal. My physical neglect and the emotional desert I grew up in made me normalise pathology in my mind. My first husband has Borderline and Narcissistic personality disorders. My lover, John the Narc, another Narcissist. I have surrounded myself with them my whole life because that has felt normal. Dysfunctional, abusive relationships have felt normal to me. And I haven’t just tolerated them – I’ve pursued them! Broken people emit a beam of need to me that I seek out like a heat seeking missile. I want to protect and care and surround and make safe. Because making safe makes me feel in control. And if I’m in control, I’m safe – not impotent. Not unable to do anything. But active and focussed on healing and saving.

In all of this, the little 4 or 5 year old Trudy doesn’t get much kid-time in. She’s busy dodging, reading situations, getting sisters out of the firing line, pandering to mom’s whims. But I was already emotionally starved and lonely. Big boys in the neighbourhood saw my neediness. They exploited it for sexual favours. I felt ashamed. And loved. Important. Wanted. And deep deep shame. I learned to hide all of this from my family very young. Come home in the afternoons of sexual abuse in the bushes on the koppie at our house with a big smile on my face. Not because I was happy, but because I was hiding. I learned to hide my pain and shame in the shadows because in the light, I needed to be the cheerful and diligent daughter. The strong one. The performer. Emotions not allowed. Messiness not allowed. Just show up strong.  And in my later childhood years, when the paedophile headmaster at the primary school I attended also sniffed out my need and began to pursue me, even that I dealt completely alone. I never ever told a soul. Or asked for help or support in any way. He only caught me once. After that I ran from him every day. Every single day.

I found what I now know to be a psychological device to protect myself though those years. I fragmented. I used parts of my psyche to deal different situations. So during the sexual abuse, and mother Narc abuse, I would allow my little child fragment to stay in the moment. But the rest of me would leave. And when it was over, then little broken child would drift into a corner, and the adult parts of me (yes, even at 5 years old) would show up with the poker face. The nurturing woman would be there with compassion for my sisters, and care for my manipulative mother. But that little broken girl would have no airtime. She’d hide in a cupboard sometimes, hoping that people would notice she was missing – but they never did, and I never dared staying in that cupboard once mom was calling the family to come to the supper table. That little broken girl. Me. That part of me. She was invisible to the world. Even to the rest of me. She received no care. She was abandoned and alone.

And now I’m 47 years old. I have been walking through this therapy journey trying to find a way to heal and hold that child. I have dreamed of her often through the years – she appears to me in all types of baby and young child forms. Always in distress. Always needing saving. The child walking off a cliff where I’m too far away to stop her. Or catch her. The twin babies with no skin, just burned flesh that I need to care for. The children lost in crowds where I cannot find them..hundreds of those things where that child screams to me that she needs to be seen. Held. Saved.

Through my abuse with John-the-Narc I began to see flashes of her turning up in me: she was mute. John would verbally lash me until I had no more words. Just tears. I would find those times hard to remember because the broken, mute girl fragment in me is very young. And she has very limited vocabulary. And she prefers to forget horrible things because that’s how she protects me – by forgetting the pain as much as she can. So this vague and dense fog would settle over the abusive times. When I tried to tell the stories to my shrink about what had happened with John, and why...I wouldn’t be able to remember. Pieces would go missing. Words would fail.

But she has changed her voice now. She’s growing and healing. Yesterday she came into my therapy session with me and had a huge and desperate voice. Why won’t Berlin love me? Why can’t Mark lose his wife guilt and sleep with me again? How can I get the Stellenbosch Banker to move faster already? The CEO – when can I see him – he wants me – I know he does. Please please please. Just anybody. I’ll go home with anybody. Just love me. I cannot go another day without love. I cannot tolerate this upwelling of abandonment and rejection I’m feeling with Berlin. Save me someone. Anyone! I felt like an addict craving her next fix. Like I’m locked in a cage with no food and water. It’s so humiliating to feel all these needy love cravings – how can that be me? I’m grown up. Street smart. Evolved. And yet this very real craving in me is so intense I really feel like jumping off a building just to make the pain go away!

My shrink says it’s healing. It’s a very fragile and important time for me. That child, finding a voice, finding a channel for her pain. Being seen, in all her messiness and confusion. She needs holding. But it would be best if she is held and comforted by me. Shrink says that it is actually really lucky that I am surrounded by boys who are keeping their distance right now. If there was a Narc in the bunch he would have dived in by now, soothed the little girl and promised me the world. Creating a sense of safety and calm that was all completely a sinister lie. Weaving his manipulative spell around me.

And even if a man arrived that was my beautiful soul mate – even then the timing isn’t ideal. Because having ‘relief’ from this painful place may mean I’ll never do this hard hard emotional work for myself. Feel these very horrible feelings that I’ve spent a lifetime trying (and succeeding) to escape. I wouldn’t learn the skills I need to move to a more healthy and wholesome emotional space. I would be still be Narc fodder. Still hiding behind the mask of perfection. Still running towards anyone who would show me some attention. Still trying to save anybody who needs saving at huge cost to myself. Still trying to find safety in controlling everything around me.

I haven’t had a real live face to face conversation with a friend for almost an entire month. I have been all in my head. And working. And mothering. And selling my company. Contracts. Sales meetings. WhatsApping conversations with people. Sex with a stranger. All things that need my poker face rather than this messy, stumbling emotionally incompetent and incoherent person I am inside right now. So even now I’m hiding. I’m craving connection. I need to create time with people who care for me so I can just TALK to someone who isn’t a shrink. 

I’ve asked Berlin. It’s not ideal. He’s irritated and confused by my intense and, frankly, batshit crazy behaviour. So even though I know that he’s not arriving with a completely open and holding heart, I will talk to him about this anyway. Because I need to practice just being me. No poker face. No protecting the other person from my pain. Just practice being me. And then I’ll talk to Mark on our business trip in a week’s time. And then I’ll see my two best mates in Cape Town in about two weeks time. But I mustn’t wait to talk. I need time. Now. Now. And I guess Berlin gets to show what he’s made of – is he really going to stand with me in this fire – and become an important connected friend in my world? And forgive me for my weird behaviour that’s actually showing up my intense and brutal pain? And care for me anyway? And not run for the hills? Or will I be back here again, in tatters, in a few days time, because, once again, I will be forced to hold this all myself? Carry this pain alone?

And can I be with Berlin and NOT try to give the baby away?Talk to him? Let him in for a bit. But keep holding this baby and shushing her gently?

Calm After the Storm

Ugh. Yesterday was so very horrible! Obviously some very sore things raked up in that whole feeling of abandonment and rejection I was feeling. I'll have to work through those in therapy today.

Last night Berlin eventually connected in with me after a telecon he was on. And actually just stood in the fire with me. He saw me through my hurt crossness at feeling so very alone and abandoned last night. And was actually just kind and patient with me. He sat up with me until after 11, just talking and calming me. We left each other in a close and connected place. I sent him this pic about us both being cracked people where the light shines through. I felt safe.

I'm still confused though. Isn't that what lovers do for each other? Why would friends do that? Be angry and lash out like I was doing? And be calm and holding like he was doing? What's in it for friends? Lovers have the benefit of the deep and connected sex that follows time like that. Close and affirming lovemaking that reinforces connected ties. But friends?  Am I missing a beat about all of this? Has my fucked up family of origin  (FOO) stuff made it impossible to understand and decode this type of relationship?

Or is he missing a beat? Maybe his FOO stuff is blinding him to the fact that we are getting closer like that. And that becoming lovers is the inevitable outcome eventually? Or am I once again setting myself up for another round of 'No Trudy: we talked about this. We are not going to be lovers. Ever. I'm just not feeling it'?

I woke up wondering whether I should chat to him about us becoming friends with benefits. I am so craving that sexual intimate touch, and maybe that's what's messing with my head here. I thought we would get together sexually soon. But this seems to have stalled that. Because he's thinking that can only be if the two of us are 'in love'. And he's not feeling those fkn 'butterflies'. But what if we just become cool lover mates. Casual sex that can be suspended at any time if the other one finds another lover we want to be exclusive with for a bit. Would I even be capable of something like that? Or would that just me be settling for anything I can get from him?

I have no idea whether I'm actually in love with him, or just desperate for the affirmation of having him want me. That the fact that he's not desperate to get into my pants makes it some sort of badge of honour that I need to turn him? Flip - I really don't know. It's not like I feel the need to turn every man I know into a salivating sex machine. I'm not pining after Bush Man from last week at all - so it's not like I get like this with every man I meet either. How is it that I'm so unable to really understand and name my own feelings about this. More FOO fuckupness?

And maybe I'm just pushing all of this far too hard. He calls me 'Kopfmensch' which is someone who spends a lot of time in their head. Maybe I am that. And maybe that's OK. But maybe I should learn to let matters take their course. If he's going to want to be with me one day - than great - it will happen. And if I find someone else in the meantime who wants me, and I want him back, well then maybe I'll go there. Maybe if I hold it all more lightly, and try to control it less, it will become what it's supposed to become.