My Fault? Or, Was I, Blamed, By Default?

Since Adam blamed Eve for his own sin, in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3:6-13), when God confronted them both about their sin, the name of the game has been blame. However, to muddy the waters even more, on the issue of who is actually at fault, there are also some assertions that are bandied about as truisms, which clearly state otherwise, such as: "People blame their  environment. There is only one person to blame — and only one — themselves." - Robert Collier; "No one is  to blame. It is neither their fault nor ours. It's the misfortune of being born when  a whole world is dying." - Alexander Herzen; "No one is a failure until they blame somebody else." - Charles Jones "Take  your  life  in  your  own  hands  and what happens? A terrible thing: no one is to blame." - Erica Jong, and so on. It is very easy to blame others; but don't those people who come through our lives, in any way, whether, they are, tiptoeing, traipsing, or trampling, bear the responsibility, for what they said or did that had an impact and an effect on us for good or bad? As someone who has spent my lifetime bearing the brunt, and paying high prices for, being made the scapegoat and a villain, after I have been being victimized by others, I'm more than tired, of people putting their sin and guilt off onto me. It is theirs! I have my own flaws, and failings, to deal with, and take responsibility for. Penalizing me for their shortcomings and sins too, is both unfair and unrighteous.

Alli summed it up well in a recent Tweet and gave me permission to share it here:

Alli R @alli_redmond · 3h

I get really tired of people holding me responsible for the situation when I’m not the one who abused someone or covered-up that abuse. 

I’m tired of the gaslighting - The fact that I’ve been made out to be the problem, when I didn’t create the problem.

  

There are people who say that we actually create a contract with God, before our incarnation, into this world, and that it may include our choosing our own gender, race, family, etc., for some 'higher purpose', or 'higher good', to be accomplished through our grappling with life, on those terms, all the days, of our existence, on Earth. If such a thing is true, then it may well be said, that we are actually much more responsible, and therefore, much more to blame, for how this life turns out for us, than anyone else involved. However, even if we assisted our very Creator, in such a way, to preprogram us for all those attributes (or liabilities, as the case may be) I have never heard anyone say that, we also have some say in who and what all the other people are, who will ever touch, and affect, our lives for better or for worse. There is an expression that we 'make our mark' in this world which acknowledges that we each have an impact on those around us. Whether, that is simply from us smiling at a stranger as we pass them on the sidewalk, or we are neglecting to tell those that we love what we feel, for them, there are rarely any human interactions that are neutral in their effect on each of us. We humans are alot like 'relational thermometers', continually registering in our emotions in real time whether someone we interact with or choose not to, or someone interacting with us or choosing not to, is causing or contributing to a perception we have, of warmth or welcome, or is instead distancing or even destructive. I firmly believe there is a mutual responsibility for any interaction between people. But, if one or more involved chooses to turn toxic toward the other(s), in some way, it's all but impossible to come away from it unscathed. Harm, has been done. Damage, has been inflicted. When those, who wrong others, refuse to acknowledge it, insult is added to the injury that was caused by this injustice. Scripture says we each are to "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Mark 12:31). The intent of this is to prevent these wrongs altogether. So many days in so many ways humans fail to sincerely put this into practice. The result is a world of hurt, that is full of victims; and lots of people are more than willing to blame these victims to deflect the blame away from themselves; because they have an agenda of some sort such as to discredit  a victim, so they won't be believed; or they are onlookers or outsiders, that have some sort of bias toward the, actual, perpetrator, causing them to take their side. 

They would love to convince others, and even us, as their victims, that it's all our fault. Biblically speaking, a scapegoat* is to bear the burdens of others' sins cast upon them. This indoctrination affects the course of our life and our relationships especially if, or when, we become so beaten down from this continual disavowing we get from others, who refuse to acknowledge or accept the truth, that, despite our knowing better, somewhere deep inside we begin to believe that, we actually do deserve this treatment, somehow, even though neither us or the others doing their best to make us feel this way, can ever come up with any real reason for it. Even society itself can treat us in ways that reinforce that it is our 'deserved' lot, making it difficult, if not impossible, to be successful, or achieve our goals in life. 

This, is one of my pet peeves. That, people try to insinuate, or instigate, such an outrageous injustice in order to deflect, their own, responsibility, in the matter, if they were involved; or if they're a bystander in some sense, they merely absolve their preferred person in some sort of dysfunctional, and dishonest, 'loyalty test'.

On Pinterest ("Deborah Gayle Robinson"), I have a Board, titled, "I Call Bullshit!" The Pins are all supposedly sage sayings, I come across, that I disagree with the premise of, that is put forth, so I Pin them to this Board. Here are three of them:

 

I was, completely, shattered, as a human being, by my last husband, who was a narcissist. They get into the lives of their victims by telling us what we need and want to hear. The fact that they can hide how evil they are, so successfully, until they 'have' us, and then, slowly reveal how destructive they are, shows just how insidious this abuse is. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally decimated, by this monster that I was married to. I had loved him. I was harmed by him. I was not responsible for the terror that I came to feel because of this man. His actions caused those feelings in me. I could, and do still, definitely blame him for what I have felt about being treated so horribly. Our reactions, are not always a choice.  Referencing the two Pins, that follow, I also can't think of one single time, in my life, that I gave someone permission to hurt me in the ways that they did! And I didn't have a family whether growing up or when married that I experienced the joy of, really, feeling loved, in return. The "no matter what" from the second Pin, below, refers to an unconditional love. Besides God, and my cockatiel, CeeBee, I never ever experienced unconditional love. Only tentative and transactional love.           

   

I have not found, any of the three statements, to be the case in my life. In fact, I was blamed by family members who were loyal to them, when the men in my life took advantage of me, used me, or abused me, and then things did not work out, between us. Each, of those men, were supported, comforted, accepted and loved, by their families, while I was blamed, and shamed, as the scapegoat, by my own.

I find it hard to imagine, that I would have, ever, chosen the hurtful family I grew up in, for any reason, at all, including, a noble one, were that conjecture, about a contract, with God, found to be true. I believe that for His own reasons, He made me to be, a white female, and placed me in the family I was born into, as well as making me an American citizen. He knows all the days of our lives, before we are even born, the Bible says, in Psalm 139:16, because of His omniscience. Life, has sometimes left me feeling like His placing me on this planet was not a very "good idea", based on outcomes, but I am nevertheless, a "God idea"! I take comfort in the fact that God is a God of truth; and even though it makes my life alot harder,  I believe that the truth is so important in my relationships. Especially, in the long run. Regardless of where it ends up, with these relationships, I always appreciate knowing exactly where I stand with someone. It is the wondering, that wears me down. That, never being sure, if they are, being slick, or, being straight, with me.

   

Because, I am honest, I am a threat, in the eyes of, family members, and some others, simply because, I say what is true, however unpleasant, or, unpalatable, that may be, to them; and, they don't want to address that, or deal with that, if they can possibly avoid it. This, is one of the biggest reasons, that I become the scapegoat. Since they can't alter what is, actually, the truth they want to simply shut me up, about it, so, I don't speak the truth; and, when, they can't, do that, they do their best to discredit me, to anyone who will listen and believe the crap they say, about me, in order to, try to, prevent the real truth from, ever, coming out, taking hold, and making them accountable, and possibly ashamed, for their own misdeeds. Jesus was crucified, for His truth-telling. Being honest makes me  'a real and present danger' to those who have dark secrets, and sins, to hide; so running me off, by mistreatment, leaves these people without my presence, and truth telling, to do their dirty deeds with hands that are not clean but have been whitewashed, as they count on no one being the wiser. Unfortunately for victims  of these people, that is, most often, exactly, how it all plays out. It has been the story of my life, and has dispossessed me of plenty which has driven me to pure despair, despondency, and at times, depression. So many people behave as if no Judgment Day is coming. Since, I have to stand before my Maker, and Judge, on that day, and He already knows everything, I see no reason, not to be honest, in my dealings here on Earth. I am who and what I am. So many people hate truth. "No blame should attach to telling the truth. But it does, it does."-Anita Brookner. 

  

I grew up in a dysfunctional home, which led to both, dysfunctional relationships, and dysfunctional career paths. Robbed of my own voice when I was a child, I've alternated, much of the time, as an adult, between, being silent and seething, or outspoken in a righteously resentful way, as I struggle, to (learn how to) find my own voice, speak up, in my own defense, when it is warranted, and establish my boundaries with people, along better lines. It was, and still is, a mighty struggle, for me! Not only did my identity, and confidence, not get established early on, in my life, but while trying to develop, these things, later, I am also having to swim against the strong currents of all the negative messaging buried inside my mind, especially from my narcissistic mother, but also from my emotionally aloof father that almost always only interacted with me to be stern or punitive, and the toxic dynamics, throughout, my family of origin, which came with, my being made the family scapegoat, AKA the black sheep of the family. All of this has made my life so much harder, for me, than anyone, who has never been through it, could ever possibly understand. Emotionally, it feels like I am trying to trudge forward, with all of my strength, while walking in a mud pit that is up to my waist. It is difficult and exhausting, to say the least. >sigh< I have had to live my life without a real support system, as far as families go. I also wasn't taught skills that I needed, to have successful relationships with others, because such things were not modeled in my home life for the most part when I was growing up. 'Family' never felt safe. 

I didn't even realize until I began dredging up, and processing, my thoughts and emotions over things from my past, in order to write my post for this blog, there were some powerful things, inside me, that were causing me to decide to do the things that I did. Only, in writing about my life, here, did I begin to really realize some, of the reasons, behind my poor choices, at times. For example, I divorced my son's father because he really gave me no choice, or love, or encouragement to do otherwise, with us; and I believe, to this day, that it was the only, possible, decision I could have made. But when I wrote several long blog posts, about the relationship with him, things came into clearer focus, for me, and I realized, that,  I never should have agreed, to marry him, at all, when, I found myself pregnant, with our son, Jay. I remember feeling very torn, about that decision, at the time.

I told myself, it was the best thing to do, for our baby, and I did deeply love Jim. But, it never could have worked, with Jim and I. I truly think I would have never wanted the lifestyle that he wanted, for himself. Or, to live with the ambitions he had, with the emphasis he placed on prestige, power and achievement, meant to gain him worldly approval, admiration and likely adoration. My personal priorities and my deepest desires had been much more, inward-focused, on the quality, of the personal relationship itself, and my longing to share a deep, loving bond. We were just not focused on the same things, at all. I think back, to our dating days, now, and see that we were never really compatible in our visions for the future. I was gloriously happy, most of the time, while, we were, alone, together, when we were dating, and living together, while both stationed at Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. But, he used that time, of accessing all of my affection for him to recharge his 'social butterfly' battery, to, let off steam, in order to better focus on his, real, goals, which all existed outside, of 'us'; out in the whole, wide, world and among the throngs of other people on the planet. Conquering me, was just a hobby. A diversion for him. Something (and, in my case, someone) that he did in his spare time, to use up excess energy, that, he couldn't use all of, in his pursuit of popularity. His channeling such drive, made him great in bed. But, not great to fall in love with, or be married to. I was so in love with him, that I could not, or I chose not, to see, at the time, that we could never have worked out, as a couple.

I had wanted to believe in the Disney 'Happily Ever After' ending, back then, but,  it wasn't that, with us. I had still, naively, thought, that love would conquer all. I did love him beyond a doubt; more than any human being I've ever loved. But it was one-sided. What he wanted was an extension of himself ambitions and all; a worthy representative, of himself, that could, also, charm his associates and help boost him up the Ladder Of Success that he was so driven to climb to its heights.  I was not that girl. I would never have been able to be that girl. It was not who I was. Then, or now. Jim considered me to be, a hindrance. His goals, left me cold. Clearly, I knew who I was, and what I needed, somewhere deep inside me, but I never could have put that into words to say to him, back then. I didn't know how to consciously get in touch with my own voice, and goals, and desires until years later. Now that I have become my own advocate, I won't stop speaking my mind. This strength of 'self' has led to, my deciding, that men, and marriage, are, most definitely, NOT for ME, and I have been living much more happily being single for decades now than any fleeting, fickle happiness I found in romantic relationships.

I see it, clearly, now, and yet there is a part of me that will love him forever! The only man I feel that way about. That, partly, explains, why I made 'bottom of the barrel' marital choices, when I got married after that. Deep down, I knew I could never replace him, or love anyone else, the way that I loved him. But, I also had the disapproval of his parents, coming against me. They treated me like I wasn't good enough for him; and when we got married because I turned up pregnant, I feel that both them and Jim felt that I did that to trap him, when I didn't at all. I never wanted to have kids because I was too afraid of my upbringing channeling through me and damaging an innocent child the way that I was damaged when I went through it. I also told Jim that I was no longer on birth control, because we had been apart for a good while before this happened and I didn't sleep with any one else, during all that time, because, I was totally in love with him. He said he would pull out but apparently he didn't. When he and my mother both told me to get an abortion, I didn't, because this was OUR child, and I believed God allowed this to happen for a reason. Of course, I was blamed, for ALL of this, by Jim AND HIS family, and MY family, although, HE, obviously, had a hand in this (or, rather, another, body part, of his, involved). Because of my years of indoctrination, from my own family, that asserted there is a reason, that I DESERVE to be treated like  I am the PROBLEM or the INSTIGATOR (even of things that I had NOTHING to do with!), I took on the SMELL OF GUILT, whether something was actually MY FAULT OR NOT; and MOST of the time WHATEVER it WAS, WAS NOT actually my fault. I found myself BEHAVING as if I WERE guilty and worthy of blame, when rationally  I knew that it wasn't true, of me. This is just SOME, of the awful legacy, of being blamed for things I didn't even do, or that were not my fault, throughout my life. To add to my pain, my 'loved ones' simply left me struggling, in the quicksand of the guilt that they poured all over and around me while they moved on with their lives, unencumbered, by guilt, shame, or responsibility; exonerating themselves. One species, that will, never, become extinct, in this world, is family scapegoats. 

 

There were other things, too, that, broke my heart, and made me feel that, I did not HAVE better, in my life, because somehow or other I did not DESERVE better. ONLY my relationship with God has taught me that, this is a LIE. Throughout, my life, to this very day, circumstances continue, to try to convince me, that I do not deserve to have the desires of my heart. I know God's Word well though, and He says in scripture "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart (Psalm 37:4)." While, my desires, now, are, no longer, to have a man, or romantic love, in my life, I have other deep desires that I hope will happen for me! Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we just cannot seem to have things go as we wish that they would. I'm usually fairly accepting of this, because of my deep faith in God. He created me, and I figure that He is well able to bring about HIS Will, for my life, regardless, of what I do, or don't do, or want, or don't want. Nevertheless, I am only human, and the damage done, to my soul, by being, the scapegoat, for other peoples' sins, throughout my life, hinders me, and holds me back, in many ways. >sigh< I seem to not only have to pay the price for things I do wrong, but for the wrongdoing of others, as well; and that is AFTER they have first sinned against me, in some way, doing some type of harm, to me, or my life. I remain incredulous, that people can wrong me and walk away unscathed by the situation, while, I have to, pick up the pieces, and try, yet again, to recover, from whatever they did to me. When things unravel, this way, I try, to comfort myself, by saying that, if, whatever, fell through, was God's Will, for me, He would surely have brought it to pass. Even so I do try to hold people accountable for how they treat me, just as God holds each of us accountable, to Him, for how we treat one another in this life. I take comfort that everybody who's wronged me will face the judgment seat of God. They might get away with it now but only in the short run. God KNOWS who is to blame and for what. There's just no GASLIGHTING** God!

There are unfortunately many other examples of my being blamed, and punished for the indiscretions of others, by not only family members, spouses, and in-laws, but the military, civilian employers, and potential employers, as well. I have been made to take the fall*** for things, after I have already been victimized, in these situations. Righteousness, does not, always reign, on this fallen planet. That's for sure! Here is just one example: During the years, I worked as a nightclub dancer,  I was well aware, that, it was only a matter of time, until I would, inevitably, 'age out' of being able to make my living that way. As much as I loved being a dancer, there would come a day, that the party was over, for me, just as it did, for all the other girls, who got into the business for whatever reasons. So, there were times that I left dancing, at least for awhile, to explore other possibilities; trying to find the best answer for me. The very first career aspiration that I ever had, as a pre-schooler, was that I had wanted to be a homemaker, when I grew up! I loved my dollhouse and my Easy Bake Oven. Something about homemaking captivated me and I just felt happy doing domestic types of things. So, I would get married, but it never worked out, for very long, because, I made those choices much too soon in those relationships, and ended up with 'buyer's remorse' after buying the 'bull', my last two husbands handed me, and waking up, from a dream, to a nightmare, complete with a legally binding Marriage Certificate, that had to be undone with a divorce, each time. (After 4 husbands, and 5 marriages, it is NO WONDER, that I, FINALLY came to my senses, and 'swore off' going that route, for over 3 decades, now.) I also tried other things I thought I might be good at or that interested me, along the way. One of those, was that, I applied, with the City of Omaha, Human Resources department, for a job, as a, 911 Operator. With my, previous, Certified Nursing Assistant schooling, and experience, and clerical skills (which were partly developed while I was in the Air Force, and was assigned to clerical duties), I felt that I had strong enough skills to do well in this job. So, I went through the steps.

As the series of written tests, interviews, and tours of the 911 facility started, we were told, that this process was such that, candidates for the job would either be advanced, to the next step, at each stage of the process, or not be going forward at all because they had been deemed to not be a good match for this position. In other words, you either made it, to the hire, one step, at a time, or you were out, of the running, to be a 911 Operator. The City of Omaha HR department, and 911 managers, were very specific, about that. I am a fairly intelligent person, so I did very well with the initial written testing that we were given and I advanced to the next step, because of that. This process continued, over a period of weeks, and I was, beyond, excited, to finally be invited to the Operations Center for a final job interview with the new 911 Director, Mark Conry. (This was many years ago, and Omaha, and Douglas County, Dispatch Operations, had not been combined, yet.) There were, some 'red flags', that happened, during my time there, for this, very important, interview, but I couldn't be sure what was behind these odd behaviors by Director Conry, and the supervisor that worked just under him. All I knew was that I'd successfully completed each and every step to be hired for this job, and I had, earned, this opportunity, to be hired, for this good paying position, that also, had benefits. However, as this last day in the lengthy, involved process transpired  I began to be increasingly uneasy as to what the 'benefits' were considered to be.

It is difficult to not be reactive when things in our present circumstances begin to remind us of, unpleasant, or, frightening, experiences, from our past. We all have baggage, from things, we have been through. Especially, things that traumatized, us. While, I continued, to put on my, smiling, pleasant, 'job interview' face, I was confused, and concerned, by what was happening. When, the supervisor ushered me into Director Conry's office, he seemed to be unusually agitated, although we had just had a congenial conversation as I waited for my turn to go in to this last step in the hiring process. It just didn't seem right that this man who had worked for decades in the highly stressful 911 Call Center environment would be 'jumpy'; especially to this extent! Then, as Mark Conry began to ask me questions, during our one-on-one, final, interview, before hires were made, this supervisor kept on coming back into his office, time and time and time and time again. It seemed as if he was trying to keep watch, of some sort, on the situation, but, I was not sure why. Mr. Conry finally lost patience with this behavior of his, and snapped at him, to get out of his office, and stop coming in, on our interview, together. Because I had passed every single step, with flying colors, earning my right to be hired, by their own statements, I knew, that this interview was actually merely a formality. Mr. Conry finished the interview by grinning at me, ear to ear, and saying that he would be making the calls the next day to those he was hiring. Finally, a real job!  I loved being a dancer, but this was a real career opportunity, as a 911 Operator.

When I went back to my apartment I was so excited that I couldn't sit still! Since he had said that he wasn't going to call anyone he was hiring until the next day I walked to the Old Market from my downtown apartment and got a few groceries. We did not have cell phones or personal computers back then, but my phone had an answering machine. So, I felt, dismayed, when I got home, and saw the light, blinking, on the machine, alerting me, to a missed call. Sure enough, Mark Conry had called--- and I wasn't home to take that call! All his message really said was, to call him back, and he left the number. I was very apprehensive, about it, since he had specifically said that he was going to call the new hires the next day and I had just left his office, after the final interview, a couple of hours earlier! It didn't seem possible that he was calling me today, instead, because he wasn't planning to hire me! . . . I didn't know WHAT to think, as I dialed the number, he left, with my hands shaking from the stress. It only rang once or twice before he answered and the first thing out of his mouth caused me to think, "UH OH!" My heart sank, not because, he wasn't hiring me, because, HE WAS HIRING ME, as it turned out. But, this is how the call with him went, which ruined it all, for me, and left me, in  a quandary, as to what I should do next. He, turned my dream, into a nightmare.

As soon, as he answered the phone, he said, thanks for calling him back; that it was his home phone number, and that 'he was a bachelor', and was just making himself a sandwich. (Please remember that my ONLY association and interaction with this man was in a professional, employer-employee, capacity, and ours was not, in any way, a personal relationship.) He described his new 'bachelor pad' to me, where he lived now, explaining that his wife was divorcing him, and that he had taken Terminal Leave, from the Air Force (with some, higher, enlisted, rank), so he could move to Omaha, to start this new job, as 911 Director. He described how lonely he felt. My heart JUST SANK, as this man said all these things, which were not appropriate to the way in which we knew one another nor the fact that the ONLY reason this, unattractive, man, even HAD my home telephone number, was because it was on my JOB APPLICATION. I hadn't met this guy in a bar and given him my home phone number, to call me up sometime, to chat, or to come on to me, which, he, surely, seemed, to me, to be doing. Then, he gave me, the ULTIMATE INSULT, to MY ACHIEVEMENTS during the HIRING PROCESS (which, I was so PROUD OF!). I had EARNED this job hire, and he said, he WAS hiring me, but he PUT it THIS way--- in such a way, that tried, from the outset, to frame it,  as a, benevolent, gesture, by him, toward me; like he was 'doing me a big favor'  that would, therefore, ingratiate me to him, during my entire employment there.

He said that, HE was PERSONALLY going to take me 'under his wing', and, MAKE SURE, that I SUCCEEDED, at this job. He said that, I was to come into his office, and SHUT THE DOOR, and that, he would MAKE SURE, that I had JOB SECURITY. Devastated, I thought back to wondering why the supervisor had kept nervously coming in during my interview with him, only hours earlier, and I felt like, it was becoming clear, to me, that he had been trying to keep Mark Conry from making  moves on me then and there. That behavior had seemed so strange, at the time. During this phone call, when Mr. Conry had told me to call him back at his home, he also, said to me, that, although, he was still calling, other, hires the next day, as he had told us, all, that he was going to do, I was THE ONLY ONE that he had called THE SAME DAY, with the 'good news', and that it was another favor he did JUST FOR ME and NO ONE ELSE because he didn't want me to have to wait for it.                         

As SOON as I HUNG UP from that call, I KNEW the job--- that I HAD EARNED by my OWN SKILLS AND CAPABILITIES--- was tainted in a very bad way by how he framed it like he was doing me this BIG 'FAVOR', and I HAD to COME TO HIM, on  a REGULAR BASIS, he said, and COME TO HIS OFFICE AND CLOSE THE DOOR in order to 'SUCCEED' at it. I had already been through rape, and lost my Air Force career over sexual harassment. I couldn't work under this kind of understanding with, my boss, on a new job, and he was MAKING IT CLEAR, from the OUTSET, I had to work there UNDER HIS TERMS, to be ALLOWED to SUCCEED in this job. I knew, that he had just made it a non-starter, for me; UNLESS I could get City of Omaha Human Resources to do something, about it. Because, of how, the world works, I knew, that was a long shot. After all, they had JUST HIRED HIM, as the NEW 911 Director. But, I also knew that I could NOT start that JOB, under these terms, that he had laid out, for me, so clearly. So, I had really already LOST the job, as soon as he DID THIS to me; unless HR would HELP ME. HR had a female head of the department, named Michelle Frost. She was also an attorney, I think.  I went to see her, and she sat there, stone-faced, as I described, these troubling things, to her. She said she would look into it, and give me a call in a day or two. At the time, I had become friends with the receptionist, for HR, and she told me, that Ms. Frost had called Mark Conry into her office, and asked him, about these things I told her, and that HE ADMITTED TO IT! I was SHOCKED, that he told her that, what I said, was true! But, when, Michelle Frost called me, herself, with her findings, she told me, that I had NEVER BEEN OFFERED THE JOB, at all, and that,  I WOULDN'T have EVER been offered the job; and, that I'd IMAGINED a job offer.

I was SO UPSET BY THIS. I KNEW that SHE knew, that THIS WASN'T TRUE. (She didn't know that my receptionist friend, in HR, who was privy to the office gossip, had kept me in the loop, on what was REALLY HAPPENING, behind the scenes.) I reminded her, with anger in my voice, that BOTH HR, and 911 management, had SPECIFICALLY told us, SEVERAL times, in NO uncertain terms, that all of the 911 job candidates could only advance toward the hire one step at a time and not by some cumulative, overall, scoring, at the end of all the steps, combined. I said, I was just at my final interview and tour of the facility, and I could NOT have BEEN there, had I not successfully passed EVERY SINGLE STEP, up until that point. She refused to acknowledge any of the facts, so I knew that, no matter what, the job could NEVER be MINE, NOW, because of Conry, and HR; and, I had EARNED, and DESERVED, that job, based on, MY OWN MERIT. I was so mad. It was so unfair. I ended up getting an attorney, to fight it, but as it turned out, he was in the same cocktail party circuit as Michelle Frost, and decided to "settle for something quick, and cheap", another attorney who was watching my case against the city told me that he had confided, to her; which ALSO made me really mad. It dragged on, for months, and, the longer it did, the madder, I got, about it. It was insult, added to injury, for me. Also, although the City of Omaha would admit NO wrongdoing, OF COURSE, they had STILL drawn up a NONDISCLOSURE AGREEMENT, and, a GAG ORDER, which they were going to require me to sign before I would even get the check for a mere $5,000.00. By that point, I had planned to MOVE AWAY, and go somewhere OTHER than this city, that I loved, that had wronged me in all of this.  I had just been waiting for the check to fund my move. I was going to the beach! When the female attorney told me, that my male attorney, had simply settled for "something quick, and cheap", I was so incensed, and felt so disrespected, that I called his office and FIRED HIM, then called City of Omaha HR, asked for Michelle Frost, and told her, to put that check somewhere that would give her a paper cut.

So, because I never got the check, or signed the Nondisclosure or Gag Order, I'm able to talk about it, to this day, if I so choose. My faith in God stayed strong and in fact, His Holy Spirit was really moving, on me, and through me, alot, during all this. I had Visions, and God gave me A VERY SPECIFIC Word Of Knowledge, for a lady at a church that I had never met in person but had talked to over the phone. She'd been praying with ME, over the phone, during this ordeal, but I didn't know ANYTHING about HER personal life. When God gave me this, very personal, Word to tell her, I OBEYED, and she told me, that it was EXACTLY, what her family, was dealing with, and it helped them, to KNOW, God's Will in the situation! I was able to move to the beach, also, because some Catholic sisters that I also prayed with over the phone showed up unannounced, at my apartment, with a sizeable check, made out to me, saying that God had suddenly told them to bring me this money. They had no idea, that I had canceled the financial settlement with the city. They were simply obeying God, who knows all things. Mark Conry, went on to work for many years as the 911 Director, while I lost MY 911 job opportunity BECAUSE OF HIM. The City, continued its business, without penalty, although it overlooked his wrongs, and MADE ME PAY THE PRICE for HIM, and THEM, by NOT DOING RIGHT by me. I DID NOTHING WRONG (aside from, when I called Michelle Frost up, and told her NO DEAL that she could put that measly $5,000.00 CHECK UP HER ASS). This, is just one more example, for this blog post, about me being blamed for the sins of others, when, it was NOT MY FAULT. I wrote this poem, during that ordeal:

No Milk Of Human Kindness

Woke, after barely sleeping,

To the sound of gentle rain--

The tears of God from Heaven--

Does He care about my pain?

My attorney left a message:

My case is winding down,

But we've still not seen the money 

That could help me leave this town . . . .

Sixteen years here, trying to live,

Has very nearly killed me!

There is no milk of human kindness

In any face or heart that I see.

Oh, well, maybe there is some, here and there,

And some weak substitutions

That give a civil overtone

To this town's social institutions.

I walked in the rain to the Post Office--

The guy there snickered in my face

When I asked a simple question

Like I should've learned my place.

I walked back to my apartment building,

No umbrella, in light rain.

Wondering, pondering seriously

Just who is true insane!

Am I the crazy person, here,

Because I seek sweet human touch?

When did caring, sharing, trusting

Become expecting too damn much?

What changed in people's hearts and minds

That made me seem silly, sick, or scared

Over years, through changing times,

For my belief that humans should have cared?

I saw the mailman in the hallway;

He turned to me to say,

"Don't check your box; it's empty--

I have nothing for you today."

"You, and the rest of the world," I replied.

To hide my tears, I turned and was gone

Back into my apartment then,

Cold, damp, needy, and alone.

Someone also said to me today

"Don't do what you don't wanna do . . ."

But, really, what difference does it make,

When what you do want is not an option for you.

Next week I start back as a dancer . . .

Which I swore I would never do . . . 

But at least in a bar I can justify

Why I'll show my body, but not heart, to you--

You-- other folks in this town, on this planet

That just wouldn't spare me a drink

Of the milk of human kindness--

It's okay, 'cause yours soured and stinks!

Keep your non-nourishing substitutions

To yourself, 'cause I'll be drinking wine.

I won't thirst for the milk of your kindness again

'Cause it's just been a waste of my time.

- This ode to Omaha

   written in its entirety

   on May 3, 1996, by

   Deborah Gayle Robinson   

    

* Scapegoating - Wikipedia 

Scapegoating is the practice of singling out a person or group for unmerited blame and consequent negative treatment.

"A scapegoat is defined as a person who is blamed for the wrongdoings and faults of others. The origin of the word is an ancient Jewish tradition in which a goat was symbolically sent into the wilderness to atone for the people's sins."  https://www.regain.us/advice/family/are-you-the-family-scapegoat-signs-you-may-be-and-what-you-can-do-about-it/

"If you were the scapegoat of your family, what you have experienced is emotional and psychological abuse. Victims of scapegoating often suffer from addiction, depression, PTSD and/or obsessive compulsive disorders." https://blavity.com/12-things-the-family-scapegoat-will-know-to-be-true/12-things-the-family-scapegoat-will-know-to-be-true?category1=editorial-desk&category2=relationships

"Incredible as it might seem, there are families that scapegoat a loved one even into and including adulthood. For a variety of reasons we will explore one member becomes the target of accusations, blame, criticism and ostracism. While it’s happening, family members are totally unaware of what they are doing and would deny it if confronted with their behavior. Often, scapegoating begins in childhood and continues into and throughout adulthood.

Why would a family choose a loved one to bully and scapegoat? The answer has a lot to do with the concept of scapegoating and the purpose it serves. Scapegoating is often a way for families to hide problems that they cannot face." https://www.mentalhelp.net/blogs/toxic-families-who-scapegoat/

"In my personal and professional experience, children selected as scapegoats – like Chet – usually stand out. They possess a presence that is palpable to others. They often have a keen sense of fairness and instinctively protest injustice. They are perceptive and can see bad character when it’s present. They are often very empathic and care about others’ feelings. They are often protective of people they care about. They can be very intelligent. Most of all, they are tough. The malignant narcissist only chooses a child as a scapegoat who can take it. The former wants to see the child suffer but not so much that they cannot keep hurting them habitually." https://jreidtherapy.com/scapegoated-by-narcissistic-parent/

"She will pay a lifelong price for sins she did not commit, however, because it is difficult and painful to extract oneself from one’s family. It is counter to the most basic of human needs for home, shelter, affiliation. It is a cruel and inexcusable undertaking for a family to scapegoat a member.

If you look at the research regarding the fate of individuals who have been relentlessly bullied, you can draw conclusions about what happens to scapegoated family members, for scapegoating is bullying with focused and long-term intensity. Some bullied children go on to become bullies themselves. Some develop social skills to divert and challenge bullying, though the scars of having been bullied may insert themselves into their lives in many ways for many years to come. Others, however, do not survive, driven to suicide." https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/blameless-burden-scapegoating-in-dysfunctional-families-0130174

"Narcissists often look charming on the outside but cause great pain and trauma for their victims."

https://mindandbodyworks.com/survivors-and-thrivers-of-narcissistic-abuse/

"People doubt the abuse took place - Narcissistic abuse is often subtle. When it happens in public, it might be so well disguised that others hear or see the same behaviors and fail to recognize them as abuse. You might not even fully understand what’s happening. You only know you feel confused, upset, or even guilty for your 'mistakes.' . . . A narcissistic parent might gently say, . . . 'You’re so clumsy. You just can’t help yourself, can you?' They laugh with everyone in the room while patting your shoulder to make the insult seem well intentioned." https://www.healthline.com/health/narcissistic-victim-syndrome#doubt-from-others

"They will call you crazy — listing all the events when you tried to speak up for yourself. They will make you question your own memory and sanity, distorting the past and pretending it didn’t even happen." https://medium.com/mind-cafe/what-if-im-the-narcissist-and-not-the-victim-88ccde8fe62d

** Gaslighting - Gaslighting is a slow form of brainwashing that makes a victim question their reality. Typical gaslighting techniques include denying something when there's proof, projecting onto others, and telling blatant lies. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/here-there-and-everywhere/201701/11-warning-signs-gaslighting

*** Take the fall - informal phrase meaning to receive blame or punishment, typically in the place of another person.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

The following, two, items, are helpful articles, related to the themes, of this post:

". . . repeating the mantra: 'I love you, I’m sorry, please forgive me, thank you' . . . he healed himself first. . . . It is by making the unconscious conscious that you come to develop healthy relationships that originate from your authentic self." 

https://medium.com/the-mission/why-people-always-treat-you-according-to-the-way-you-unconsciously-treat-yourself-c4f0e1ae21d

"To encourage positive and discourage offensive behavior:

Do not reward behaviors in others that you wish to eliminate.

Follow actor Alan Alda's advice: 'Be fair with others, but then keep after them until they're fair with you.'

Learn to speak up assertively.

Do not reward unkind behavior from others.

If someone treats you badly, say so—do not smile and pretend it's okay."

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/think-well/201109/are-you-teaching-people-treat-you-badly   

       

Why, For Me, My Mother Went From Dearest Mommy To 'Mommie Dearest'

I don't know whether my mother was always such a troubled woman, as I came to know her to be over time. Looking back, I suspect that she was, but that I had to grow up beyond, first, my innocence, and then, my naivete, to be able to begin to recognize the signs that it seems were there all along. When I was a very little girl, I adored my mother. In that complete trust that a child often has for a parent when very young, she could do no wrong in my eyes. It would have been completely unthinkable for me, then, that she could or would ever do any deliberate harm to me in any way. But she did. I never could have thought that she would be so willing to injure my innocence in order to satisfy her sins. But she did. I wouldn't have been able to believe that she would begin to deliberately discredit me, even while I was still a small child! But she did.

I had been exposed, through no fault of my own, to her ugly truths and dark secrets, which then caused her to view me as being a perpetual threat to her reputation that she demonstrated she was much more concerned about than my well being. I saw some troubling things about my mother, behind the scenes, which completely contradicted the facade that she made sure others always saw of her. I didn't understand how she could be more concerned with what people thought of her, publicly, than whom she showed me that she was (especially toward me, specifically), in private, all of which caused me to feel continually apprehensive because I was trying to deal with all of her incongruities. One of the most frightening things about her, to me, was how manipulative she was. The strategic subtleties of that managed to really blow my mind! I couldn't have conceived of the various ways that my mother would 'set me up' in order to distress me. As my parent, I felt she should have been the primary person protecting me from the dangers surrounding, even invading, my life; not becoming one of them herself.

All these things that my mother did toward me, as her child, were extremely disturbing to me, especially since she had previously been my hero, and my source of inspiration, when I was very little. I had idolized her then, although that had turned to disillusionment due to all of this effectively dismantling my image of her. I was left to deal with this intense emotional conflict caused by my going from loving my mother devotedly and trusting her completely to loathing this woman whose apparent values I could not share or endorse, and with whom I had no real sense of security. As a mother, to a daughter, she was also the primary role model for me of what a woman was to be, physically, relationally, morally. Because of this powerful position in my life, she was the major contributor to shaping my viewpoints on virtually everything, and more often than not these impartations from her were not positive ones.

She failed me in so many important ways, which deeply affected my personal development and who I became. I know that I have never recovered from that, or from the deliberately destructive influence she wielded over my peace of mind, my body, my soul. My sanity. More than any other relationship in my life, this one was the most hurtful, doing the deepest damage to me by far, even beyond what I went through in marriage from domestic abuse. Dealing with emotionally off balance people can pull us off balance ourselves despite trying our best to cope with the things that come at us from them, forcing us to have to deal with them as they are if we're in a relationship with them. What all this with her would end up costing me, besides all the emotional damage it left me to deal with every day of my life, was any possible relationship with my own mother.

It was traumatizing for me to see the depth of the darkness my mother carried within her, the presence of which also compelled her to be more than willing to undermine me, at any cost, even while I was still a very young girl with no way to protect myself from this toxicity to my soul, or to escape it. I grew up spending most of my childhood alone in my room, in a desperate form of damage control. Besides that, this was not a household that really offered me any genuine physical affection, or opportunities for true emotional closeness, for me to be able to develop any deep relational bonds with anyone there. I was the one who spoke up about us needing these things in that home, within the family. I was the only one, seemingly, who thought that telling the truth about things would make it better, for us all. All that did, though, was place me in the unenviable position of becoming the family's scapegoat. Whatever went badly in our family somehow, strangely, got blamed on or directed at me, from then on, even when I was not there for whatever 'it' was that had occurred, at all, or had anything whatsoever to do with the situation! It was a bizarre, extremely unsettling feeling, for me.

I had been singled out and silently selected, within the family dynamic, from an early age, and was then made to pay the price, in many ways, for any and all of the family's sins. This was an absurd situation for me to be in, as well as very confusing to me, especially since I was a 'good girl'. I tried hard to avoid being directly involved in the family dysfunction, as much as possible, keeping to myself all I could due to how unhealthy it always felt to me emotionally in that home. As soon as I reached an age to be able to escape it, I did, which was when I went away to college, attending both summer sessions right after my high school graduation. Once I was finally out of that house, I dreaded ever going back into all that misery there, again. Still, I tried many times, over several decades, to find some sort of healthier foothold with my mother, which almost anything else would have been, compared to what it was actually like between us.

As I became an autonomous adult, although one who is still greatly affected by the pain and unpleasantness of these childhood memories, I have chosen not to remain in, or to engage in, any more unhealthy relationships with others, because of my being forced to, helplessly and hopelessly, both by and with my parents. My troubling upbringing thoroughly damaged both who I am and how my life has unfolded. The hostility and rejection I experienced left me feeling extremely alienated and anxiously wary with people, even as an adult interacting with other human beings. Human relationships simply do not feel like a safe place, for me. The afflicting anxiety which my childhood provoked in me also left me with lifelong OCD, as a constant reminder of my childhood emotional trauma, affecting even the most mundane daily tasks that I must do. Any hope and healing I have found has come from the steadfast Love of God, for me, personally, which has greatly counterbalanced the grief I have been subjected to by people. It has also given me the refuge, relationally, which I was left so in need of, in my life, after living through what is so innocuously called 'my childhood'. I don't believe that I would still be alive on this Earth now, or even as intact as I am, as a person, or as caring and gentle, at all, without the pervasive presence of, and this relationship with, my Loving Lord and Savior.

My Aunt Gladys was my favorite among all the extended family members, because she saw the truth and addressed it directly with me, seeing me being hurt by the situation as it was, while the other relatives all made the choice to overlook it, making it even worse for me to endure. She shared with me that she also felt deep heartache and frustration, on my behalf, as she saw me being treated that way by my mother (her sister) especially. This was a much needed reality check for me, regarding this unstable ground on which I was trying to find my footing as a girl growing up. I was immensely grateful to my aunt for her honesty with me about it! She was also the most Christlike relative that I had, giving me, by her example, a lot of my ability to trust, therefore, that God's Love for me was different than these harmful things being done to me, supposedly in the name of love, by my parents. So many people on Earth have great difficulty believing in or trusting in the Love of God for them, precisely because He is called our Father, a parental term often connected to negative views of the word due to the bad behaviors of Earthly parents. With my Aunt Gladys, I was able to experience God's Love being modeled by her in a real way, toward me, and to see it as being thankfully unlike the dysfunctional interactions that I experienced with my parents. My aunt even told me that she had so often wished she could have removed me from that situation, and made me her little girl, to give me the love that I was so lacking with my own parents. How deeply I wished she could have, too!

While it is a 'falling from grace' for parents, when their children begin to grow up, and see-- and have to come to terms with--- the fact that their parents are by no means perfect people, society in general can't seem to accept certain truths where parents are concerned. Even in the face of actual evidence to the contrary, adults especially often choose to cling tightly to these myths that all parents always love their children and only want the best for them; would never hurt them on purpose, or expose them to any danger or harm, but would give their own lives, if needed, to protect their children from danger and evil. While these are certainly 'Disneyesque' themes in fairy tales, which people often seek to instill in us, they simply don't bear up under the glaring light of day, which exposes the uglier reality for many children. You would only need to watch the TV newscasts a very short time to see the stories of what children are enduring, sometimes even to their untimely deaths from neglect or abuse, in the care of their own parents. It is a fact that almost anyone can produce a child, simply by seeking their own sexual gratification with another, but not everyone is, or should be, a parent of another human being! Especially when they are willing to destroy that child in some way, shape, or form, due to their own personal demons. There are horrifying situations, some of which are being exposed, that children are enduring around this world, often at the hands of their own parents.

I thank God to this day that my experiences with my parents weren't any worse than they were, although what I went through was more than enough to set me up for failure in significant ways. My sense of proper personal boundaries was destroyed, which has left me open to exploitation by people who see or sense that about me. My acting rightfully entitled to both have and use my own voice to protect and advocate for myself in this world (which is more than willing to victimize those unable to do so) is a constant source of struggle and anxiety for me. My confident belief that I have any real or lasting worth, or lovableness, has been severely undermined, leaving me quite emotionally crippled, even maimed, as a human being, a woman, a soul. There were many things done to me deliberately in order to punish me, to keep me in line, to keep me intimidated enough not to venture talking openly about the 'dirty little secrets' of the family (even in order for me to receive any help or comfort while going through them!), including being indirectly threatened with the withholding of love from me (which I never really felt was there in the first place, leaving me bitter, cynical, and distrustful of anything that people called 'love').

So, although it was far from the worst forms of child abuse, and likely my parents would never have been willing or able to perceive any of these things as being actual abuse of me, the signs of this devastating implosion (caused by my having no alternative, growing up, but to 'stuff' all these things deep down within me), are and have been clear not only to myself, and to Aunt Gladys (and I'm sure to some other relatives, as well, that made their choice to just look the other way), but to any counselor that has ever discussed my life, its course, and its outcomes with me. Abuse isn't always about external injuries. The worst are internal! Bruising a child's fragile self esteem, undermining their feeling of worth or lovableness, destroying their sense of personal safety, encouraging them not to use their own voice to advocate for themselves, teaching them that their silence and compliance is their only hope for receiving even the tiniest crumbs of affection they are starving for, creating hurt, confusion, anger, and rage, in even a sweet, loving child, and signaling very clearly to a child that they must allow themselves to be abused in some way, or else be rejected and cast aside, dismissively, are only a partial list of the deadly, selfish, sins done toward me by one or both of my parents. I will cover those of my father more specifically in a separate post. However, it must be said here that both of my parents' behaviors, combined, effectively destroyed me.

God's Love is clearly the ONLY reason I have survived, at all, and still been able to function, especially as a deeply caring human being, even though I still struggle daily with my underlying issues of detesting and distrusting people. These place me in constant internal conflict, since I am Called by God to love others! Also my continually vacillating sense of self worth, and my mighty struggle against my thorough conviction that, based on outcomes, I am not truly lovable by other human beings, torment me. This, although God--- Whom I love and trust COMPLETELY!--- tells me that 'I AM VERY LOVED', by Him. Sometimes, when I have tears falling down my face from yet another hurt that people have caused me, adding to my already deep heartache left me as the legacy from my family of origin, I confess to God that it's HARD sometimes to allow His Loving me to cheer me up, in the face of the pervasive lack of love shown by the other humans around me on this Earth. People oftentimes afflict me rather than bless me with their presence in my life, due to how they behave toward me, and the further harm which that causes me.

I tell God, at those times, "Well, of course YOU Love me, because You ARE Love! So, YOU don't have a CHOICE! You can't BE or DO anything ELSE and still be YOU! People have a CHOICE, though, and whenever I let them in my life, I ALWAYS REGRET IT! Once they come into my private life they carelessly CRAP ALL OVER IT, ADDING to my GRIEF. You've Called me to Love them, and I DO TRY to show them YOUR Love, because that's all I have IN me to show them. I'm relationally bankrupt, myself, at this point, due to far too many withdrawals by people and almost no deposits, as far as human love goes. I TRY REALLY HARD! But, actually, I'm to the point now in life that I CAN'T STAND HUMAN BEINGS! I don't even know how YOU stand human beings, God! You're Love, so YOU HAVE TO, I guess." 

All this struggle, conflict, anger, and heartache, which I deal with daily, to some degree, directly stems from those critical relationships with my parents, which were my first exposure to other human beings and what that was like. They taught me, by example, what family, relationships, and human beings in general were all about, and it wasn't a pretty picture. Childhood is when these concepts are first developed, then becoming mindsets that are with us for our lifetime. Counselors basically can only try to help us deal with them. Things this deeply ingrained are rarely if ever completely eradicated from the person who has been experiencing them. These are in fact sometimes referred to as being SOUL WOUNDS.

The first time (of the two) that I was raped, at age 21, by a stranger, I called my mother, sobbing, to tell her, and her response to me was simply "I have to go. My blueberry muffins are in the oven and I don't want them to burn." That was all she had to say to me about it. Ever. When I found myself pregnant, and all alone in Mississippi, having just lost both my jobs there, also, due to my extreme Morning Sickness, I called my mother. She told me over the phone to get an abortion, because I was "always bringing shame on the family", then she hung up on me. Later, when my son was about to be born, in Nebraska, she initially refused to even fly out to meet her first grandchild, saying to me angrily that she was too young for me to have gone and made her into a grandmother (she was 50). She did finally come, but by then the underlying rejection--- of me, not the baby--- had been brought into the situation, to always be a prominent part of my memories as a first time mom.

When I lived in Wilmington, North Carolina for awhile, my mother came through to visit along with her sisters (my aunts), since it was on their route home from their beach trip together. When my Aunt Jo stood by me, for a photo together, which my mom was taking of us, mom kept delaying and delaying and delaying and delaying actually snapping the photo! My aunt and I had both begun this with our camera friendly smiles intact, but as my aunt began to protest that having the bright sun directly in her eyes was harming them, and then started saying that, now, it was also giving her a headache, as well, my smile increasingly faded away, during all that, as mom just kept waiting, as if nothing was being said to her about getting on with it already! My aunt kept on asking her to snap the photo, but even so, my mom simply kept putting it off. Finally, knowing there was absolutely nothing actually preventing her from taking that picture of us, I shot my mom a look of great (and understandable) annoyance, directed at her, since my aunt had been repeatedly protesting and saying that her sun-sensitive eyes were watering and her head throbbed now due to the bright sun. This aunt was the one most needing to see clearly, without damaged eyes, since she was the one driving the car for this group!

Just when I gave my mom that scrunched up face of frustration with her, she (of course!) took that picture, right then! Knowing her as I do, I am sure she was waiting, specifically, for that glare from me, since she knows that my compassion would have moved me to be very concerned on my aunt's behalf, and the delay would therefore be upsetting to me. She didn't push the camera's button for so long because what she was actually doing was pushing mine! She delighted herself whenever she found a way to discredit me, especially with others, such as my aunts. My mom didn't hesitate to send me, and show other family members as well, copies of that photo with me wearing this mean-looking expression toward her. She had set me up, once again, in order to falsely 'document' that I was the unloving one, of the two of us, and not her.

When my only, older, brother shot himself, dying by suicide, I was far away in Nebraska and his funeral was going to take place there in North Carolina. For me to attend, I would need to fly back there to arrive in time. It was later told to me that my wealthy uncle had offered to pay for my plane fare, which he could easily afford, but that my parents told him not to bother, because they didn't want me there! I ended up having to sit it out, alone, in Nebraska, the day he was buried. However, my mother did send me one small full color photo of my dead brother, lying in his casket! I had nothing whatsoever to do with my brother's killing himself, yet my parents felt quite comfortable telling relatives that I wasn't welcome to come to my only brother's funeral! Things like these, which have been done to me throughout my lifetime by these people, have boggled my mind and shattered my emotions. I don't know how someone is ever supposed to truly recover from such treatment by their own family members. I have never been able to.

There are so many of those type of things that my mother did to me in my life, like these I just described here as merely a sampling, that I cannot even come close to putting them all into a single Blog post. Sadly, I would actually need to write a book to cover it all, and I am not emotionally up to that challenge. So, I will close this post by telling you about the very last time I was with my mother. It was our final chapter together. I had moved to her town to try to be helpful, since she was then divorced and living mostly alone (she had a boyfriend by then whom she bragged was on Viagra). She didn't have any use for me, still, and again demonstrated that she didn't want me around, so not having any other real connection to there, I decided I was done trying to find any place for me in either her life or her good graces.

I packed up my apartment, I had there, to move away again, for the last time of several tries with her, over the years, but I needed a place to shower and sleep for the one night before I left town that following morning. She said I could stay at her house for that, but she complained that I would be leaving her with used bed sheets that she would then need to strip and launder, creating extra work for her. So, I actually just laid down right on the thinly carpeted bedroom floor, using my own jacket to cover my shoulders as best I could for warmth, so as to not use the bed at all or be any trouble to her. It was very uncomfortable, but I was so exhausted from packing all day and loading my rental truck that I was still able to fall asleep that way. Even more uncomfortable for me, though, was this woman always being that dismissive of me.

That evening, when I had arrived at her house, she kept telling me, again and again, in rapid succession, that she would not even be home the next morning when I left town, because she would be at her exercise or yoga type class at the Y. It seemed very strange to me that she went out of her way to drill down on the point that she would NOT be home the next morning when I would be leaving, because she had no dementia or any issue causing her to forget that she had just repeated this to me several times! I thought then, knowing her, that she was just trying to underscore how little it meant for her that I was even there, or that I was leaving. So, the next morning, as I lay aching on that hard floor, I heard her alarm clock go off. It was the LOUDEST alarm clock I have EVER heard! It rang and rang and rang, and was getting even louder, it seemed. I expected my mother to shut it off, but thought perhaps she was sitting in her bathroom at the time and couldn't get to it.

Eventually her cat, who wasn't very friendly to me, either, came to where I was, and then walked back toward her bedroom door, as if looking for me to stop that loud noise or to help in some way. I sighed, got up from the floor, and looked in my mother's open bedroom door. There she lay, on her side, facing the door, with that alarm clock blaring at the head of her bed. She had a slight smile on her face (rather like a possum, I thought warily, from knowing her as I do). The other thing I noticed was that the sheet was totally tent like around her, smoothed with no wrinkles and only touching along her upper side, so that there was no way to check her breathing by seeing the sheet going up and down by being close to her body. The sheet was much too neat and precise, in that way, to be accidental, and as I surveyed the scene with the clock still clamoring, it looked to me like another one of her setups that she was always doing to discredit me in some way. Knowing CPR, I still had no intention of touching her myself, at all, as she had tried to assign assault to me, a couple of times previously, when I made physical contact with her. I had learned not to trust her! At all.

So, I did finally turn her alarm clock off, and then I yelled, "MOM? MOM! MOM!!!" I shouted it as loudly as I could, to which there was no response from her. So, still feeling in my gut this was another type of her traps where she would 'set me up' and then assign false motives to my actions and/or discredit me in some way, I called 911 instead. The alarm clock had gone off, for several minutes, long and LOUD, and my voice had called out to her LOUDLY, several times, but she had just laid there looking the same, on her side, with that faint possum smile on her face. Even if she WERE dead, which was the appearance and the scenario that I think she was staging, in order to see, and then discredit in some way, whatever reaction I might have had to that, I STILL was NOT going to TOUCH her AT ALL, because of my years of past experience with her pulling this kind of crap on me. Frankly, by this point, I wasn't feeling sad or upset, had she actually been deceased, as my emotional connections to this woman were so severed, for so long, because of her bad behaviors toward me, that I honestly felt indifferent regardless of whether she were alive or dead. I thought, cynically, maybe someone else in the family would just send me the complimentary color photo of her, in her casket, as she had done for me with my brother. I told 911 that I could not rouse her, and had not touched her.

Soon, I heard the ambulance siren getting closer and louder. Then, I met the 2 attendants on the front porch and escorted them into her house, toward her bedroom. ALL the LOUD COMMOTION, before this moment, with the clock, my shouting, and the siren, and she had not budged a bit. But, then, JUST as I GOT TO her bedroom door, with the EMTs, she simply IMMEDIATELY propped herself up on one elbow and smirking, said softly, "Deborah, WHAT have YOU done NOW?" She made it look as though NOTHING had gone on before this moment that they entered the room, and like I was just some over reactive hysteric. [She loved, especially, to try to make me come out looking like a crazy person, and other things, such as mean, or mad.] It was just as I had thought; it was all only another one of her 'Gotcha!' games she loved to play on me, to keep me off balance and distressed, in some No Win situation for me, with her. I wasn't even surprised. It was exactly what I expected from her. It was nothing but 'mom, as usual', toward me. I was the only family member that she ever did those type of things to. No one else. Always me. Seeing the lengths she was willing to go to to make me look bad or insane, I realized that this woman is actually the crazy one, at least when she is dealing with me. That day was it, for me. That was in 2007, and I never saw her again, nor wanted to. 

I. Was. Done.

I am not able to officially diagnose my mother's emotional ills, although my descriptions of her have caused people to usually assert that she was certainly a narcissistic person. When I Googled information on that term, I did come to agree with that assessment of her. Hence, the title of this post, paralleling her with the autobiographical movie of Joan Crawford, written by her daughter, called 'Mommie Dearest'. Christine Hammond, MS, LMHC, has an excellent Blog post online about this--- both the movie, 'Mommie Dearest', and what it is like for someone to be the daughter of a narcissistic mother, at https://pro.psychcentral.com/exhausted-woman/2017/11/mommie-dearest-daughters-of-narcissistic-mothers/. There are also many other informative sites about this, online.

It was very helpful to me to have others be able to comprehend and categorize my mother's behaviors, and her treatment of me, because one of the things she always did so well toward me was to undermine my self confidence and cause me to second guess my gut (which I now personally recommend that NO one EVER do!). This led to my being so conflicted internally that she was ALMOST able to CONVINCE me that I WAS truly the CRAZY person, in the interactions between the two of us. To protect myself, from her manipulations, I finally had to trust both my gut and the advice of counselors I have had, over the years, and sever any and all ties I had with her. When I last attempted to deal directly with her, which I just described to you here, I was in my early 50s, and she in her mid-70s. Sadly, she had only gotten worse, behaviorally, over time, in her interactions with me.

Years ago, I was selling shoes in a JCPenney mall store. Right in the middle of an extremely busy Saturday work shift, I found myself waiting on a mother and her grown daughter, overhearing the conversation between them as I fitted them with the shoes they were interested in. I personally and painfully recognized the denigrating, disparaging way with which this mother was directing every comment at her daughter, and the daughter's worn down, beleaguered, resigned responses to her mother. This conversation was the closest, of any I had ever heard anyone else engaged in, to what I had always experienced in trying to communicate with and relate to my mother. Hearing this going on, between them, and desperately wanting an answer, for myself, as to why any mother speaks to any daughter she supposedly loves in this destructive, debilitating way, I dared to blurt out to the mother directly, "Can you please tell me why it is that you are talking to your daughter in this way?" I knew most people would be shocked that I asked, intruding this way as the sales associate serving them, and would most likely decline to answer such an impertinent question as that at all. They could even make a complaint to the store management. 

I knew all this.

But I was desperate for the answer to this burning question that I had needed an answer to all my life. This woman was behaving exactly like my mother always had toward me! I had never really seen anyone else's mother treating them like this so openly, except for mine, making this a rare opportunity being presented to me. Without blinking an eye, this other mother responded to me with no hesitation at all. My blood turned cold, when I heard her answer, as I immediately recognized that she had just told me the pure, plain truth. Her doing that was a real gift to me because she had finally, fully, answered that question I had always carried, in my own heart, from the deep wound that I had due to my mother's behaving toward me exactly as this woman was behaving toward her daughter. She said, with no sign of guilt, remorse, or intention to change course, "I just want her to be as miserable as I was!". THAT was EXACTLY it! Just like from my mother, toward me. From my dearest mommy to my 'Mommie Dearest'. That woman spoke the truth of what it was! Of what it all came down to. Sometimes there just isn't going to be a positive outcome, or a happy ending. Sometimes, there just has to finally be an ending.