I read an article online the other day about the making of a cheater. Rudd-O was hurt by someone like me and I fit his psychopathology profile neatly. He says:
“A cheater was neglected and emotionally abused in her childhood. The neglect is usually perpetrated by the father, and the emotional abuse is usually perpetrated by the mother. The abuse is very specific: it’s attacking the kid when the kid tries to express negative emotions. The neglect is also very specific: it’s abandonment. These circumstances produce a child that feels “wrong” or “bad”, with poor self-image. At the same time, because of the emotional abuse, the child learns to deal with his negative emotions by self-censoring / suppressing the thoughts that prompted those emotions (because if he expressed them, he would quickly be punished by his internalized “mother voice” telling her that “saying bad things makes her bad”). In other words — the child learns to deny himself the opportunity to express his feelings, and eventually denies the reality of his thoughts. This coping mechanism is very effective to sustain the unhealthy relationship with the mother — let’s remember that the kid has no choice but to relate to the mother — because it prevents disputes and punishments. Note that this thought suppression does not actually suppress the emotions themselves, but it does handicap the ability of the child to be aware of her thoughts and to deal with them rationally. This is the recipe to get a kid — and an adult — who is propense to mood swings, dissatisfaction and unhappiness, but is completely, literally, unable to explain why she experiences these emotions… which, of course, makes dealing with the root causes of her negative emotions very, very difficult. You can see why the expression of these emotions, internal or external, would trigger her coping mechanism, and to “punish” herself with even worse emotions.” SOURCE.
Rudd-O goes on to say that the mother has taught the kid that lying is acceptable, especially if you don’t get caught or it if spares someone else’s feelings. His examples are mainly embedded in the paternal dynamics of a husband cheating on his wife or father who has the left the family for another woman. This was not my home situation. In fact, my parents are still together. My father was the aggressor, the dominant one – my mother served only to placate. But when you grow up in sexual abuse and trauma, you grow up in secrecy and shame. I lied about everything. I lied to myself – I told myself nothing happened, I made it all up, I put on a mask and pretended that everything was okay. It makes sense that in all my relationships I have cheated. What a fool I was to think it would stop when I got married! Ha, I thought it was out of my system!
Rudd-O says that someone like me stands no chance. She will remain as is. She will keep lying and hurting and cheating until one day she cannot anymore. Perhaps death. I dream about death. To stop the mood swings, dis-ease of self, the negative emotions. To stop me from hurting people. Why can’t I just stop? I want to hide from myself. I once believed God was shaping me into this wonderful woman and then I walked out the front door and life hit me. The voices started. “You self pitying piece of shit. Get back inside. Look at how disgusting you are. Look at the lies and the pain you cause. Everything you do, everything you say is false. You are better off dead.” And then a calm sweeps over me as I visualise it. Gone. And momentarily, a smile creeps over my face because it is a relief to just give in to it and stop the fighting when I know I can’t win.
Every time I walk into the house since moving out, I feel emotional. The impact of the affair has finally hit me. I feel so gutted – so angry at myself for my blatant disrespect of my marriage vows. I feel like such a hypocrite, a joke, a piece of shit, the world has turned in on me. How selfish, how truly selfish and duplicitous I am. I keep racking my brain, ‘why did I do this?’, if i was so happy, so content as I speak about, why would I run off with someone else. Here I was, here I am, meant to be some good Christian girl, where were my morals? I am angry at her, why did she come into my life? Why couldn’t she respect that I was married? I want to shift the blame, I don’t want to take all the responsibility. Of course, I have to. I am left with hating myself and wanting to die. Why couldn’t I get a grip? Why can’t I get a grip? Everything feels like it is falling apart and I am not sure if I am going to make it. I feel so self pitying and horrid writing this, I don’t deserve to feel bad, I am just a selfish bitch and truly I feel as though I should rot in hell.
I made a decision about six weeks ago to leave AA. I had been feeling very confused about it for about a year or so, but the fear based programming was strong inside me (“knock off meetings, knock off pots”, if you leave AA, you will pick up a drink and die or…fill in blanks”). I knew the decision needed to align with all my parts as it took a lot of courage to not go back to the rooms and reject the programming. I have found it helpful to read online material about others who have left AA and their experiences. I have discovered that I am not alone and many others have struggled to leave, yet have found a sense of freedom. In particular, God has led me to the orange papers, which funnily enough I came across in my first year in AA, but just wasn’t ready to read anything negative about AA. I needed it. Now, come six years sober, I feel that God is giving me a new perspective and allowing me to see the occult nature of AA and its foundations and also the fear, cult based programming that it is based on. I feel empowered to finally understand that I don’t actually need a program to connect with God. I can just do it! I have really felt humbled the last few days to apologise to God, for buying into the program and its shame, fear based propaganda. The first few weeks of not doing meetings was hard as any negative thought I had, I would beat myself over the head for “stinkin’ thinking” or become fearful that I was being negative because I wasn’t doing meetings etc etc. Now, I feel more relaxed about it all and I am just working on developing a stronger, less rigid (and more meaningful) relationship with Jesus. Praise God, who can bring me out of the darkness one step at a time lol!
There’s got to be a positive here somewhere. Three blog posts. It’s over. Wow wee. “I can’t do it.” He says. “What did you talk about?” I asked. “We prayed”, he said. I paused. “Did you pray about us being together?” He replied, “No, they prayed about you finding God”. Boom! Right in the jugular. “Did you tell them about my past?” (I’m struggling to maintain breathe by this stage). “A bit. They’ve had experience with people with multiple personalities before”. I had to dig a bit deeper … “and they think it’s best you just leave them?”… “they’re hard” (as in multiples), he said.
Later, I had to say it. I had to declare that the God bit hurt. The one thing I have worked hard to maintain a connection with, the biggest difficulty for me as a SRA survivor and he / they use it against me. To write me off as a too hard basket and someone who has been overcome by evil. It fucking hurts. Because of course I think they are right. My actions speak louder than words. It’s my fault, I got into this situation. I have caused it all. One big self sabotaging mess. Sheesh, I thought one of us would fight for it. I truly thought he would. I mustn’t be worth it. I feel sick. Don’t go there. Don’t panic. Just take one day at a time. You’ve got a place, the rental is organised. Move in. Have a new start, a new beginning. God has good plans for you my dear. Trust that He will turn things good. He is good. You are good. I can be good. I am definitely taking both dogs.
Two blogs in one night. Let’s just say there is a lot going on. My husband has a better relationship with my brother than I do. M is very good like that, he really makes an effort, which is something I love about him. I once had a close relationship with my brother, or at least I thought I did. It was enhanced by booze and the like, and I guess when I got sober, I began the journey of self discovery and that’s when we started to grow apart. He is definitely part of the abuse story, confirmed by my sister. He was open to some conversation around it a few years back, but he has chosen to get on with his life in different ways. He is very focused on work and family (all really positive, wonderful things), and like me, keeps very active and distracted. He doesn’t really delve deep into the emotional stuff and so our relationship is quite surface, shall we say. My brother has two kids and when the first, Xavier was born, I was pretty upfront that I struggled to connect with babies, and that I didn’t really have that maternal instinct. It is deeper than that – in fact, I find babies incredibly triggering. Sometimes I have a complete revulsion to them. I know this stems from my abuse and have had horrible memories in relation to this, which has been very distressing and not something I could bear to share with my brother or many people. Most of the stuff is general run of the mill satanic ritual abuse memories – you know, torture, murder – that kind of thing…. (I know I sound oddly blase, but seriously how do you convey this stuff???). I can’t communicate this distress to my brother, because I am fearful he will deny my truth or won’t want to hear it. My husband said my brother is really angry at me, because I have been an absent Aunty (this is true) and have taken no interest in their lives (this is true). I feel stuck. Its like I don’t know how to move forward with him and his family. I second guess myself – am I really being distant because I am triggered by his babies or am I just being a selfish bitch? Are my feelings valid around the perceived triggers? My husband says I just have to face the fear, but its like I am sticking two feet into the ground and unable to make any effort. I just don’t want to and I feel horrible for it. When I think of seeing him, I feel panic. Surely there is something in there or am I just making it worse by continuing to avoid the situation. The more time that passes, the harder it gets to take action. Funny how that happens. I guess I just have to pray for him and just send him a text soon. He’s angry at me about the affair and he can be very black and white, so I just don’t really want to go there with him. The whole thing seems very heightened and I think there is something there – memory and pain. I feel dissociative thinking about it and then I just think I am making it all up and I should just get the hell over it. A continual cycle of shame, beating myself up and playing victim. Ugh, I make myself feel sick. How the hell does one find compassion for themselves when they are so full of self hate?
My life at the moment is in utter turmoil. At the eleventh hour of moving out with S, I reneged, asking for forgiveness from my husband for my wrongs and telling him I wanted to make it work. We had a good long chat and it seemed as though we were on the same page. I knew I had hurt him and I understood it wasn’t going to be all bed and roses, but I was committed to making my amends. He said a few surprising things, namely, that he just wanted me to “get over” my abuse (ow!) and that he was sick of being a father (to the little ones) and that he didn’t want that image projected on to him by my parts. This is difficult given the age difference and general transference when one is dissociative. I understand it is not a nice feeling (particularly if he triggers me in sex), but I thought with open dialogue, that we could work through this. This morning, we woke and he seemed distant. He said to me, “I’m still not sure about this” – and he kind of pointed at us, with this look of disdain that killed me momentarily. “Oh”, I replied. He said he was going to speak to a Christian friend of his tonight, seek counsel, but was impressing on me that I should move out – that he needed space. I feel gutted. I know I am completely in the wrong, my actions have been selfish and I have hurt him continually for nearly 12 months now. I had basically walked away from the marriage, off I went, into the arms of a new best friend and lover, secretly sharing a life full of romance and dreams; the things I should have been doing with him. And now, here I sit, remorseful and in anguish, whilst I wait for him to make a decision about our fate. It was in my hands for the last year, as I toyed with it. I am angry. I am sad. I wanted him to fight for me. I wanted him to welcome me back with open arms, tell me he loves me, that he forgives me, that it is going to be okay. I know it is selfish of me to expect this, given it was because of my actions that we are in this place. He said he doesn’t know whether he wants to deal with my parts anymore. He doesn’t want the stress. I am too stressful for him, with the heart condition and all. My parts feel abandoned, guilty. I wish I was dead. I am full of self loathing. A pure misery guts. Hating on myself for hating myself. I wonder if I will ever be able to have proper healthy relationships. Is the effect of the abuse so insidious that it just erodes any chance of love and happiness? I have to take more responsibility for my parts, for how I am feeling, for my actions. I did want him to take care of me. I loved it when he did. He made me feel so safe. I broke his trust. Sometimes I hear voices from some parts saying they wanted to test him. Look at what the test has done! It has driven him away. Will they test everyone? How in control am I, if unconsciously I have parts working to sabotage my life. Is this programming? I am so confused because I prayed and prayed and prayed for clarity and the reason I reached out to my husband is because I felt like God was waking me up, telling me to make my amends and get him back. Does God not want this for me? I honestly do not know anymore what is God’s will. I feel abandoned by Him, but I know that God doesn’t abandon His children, so of course I am steeped in guilt, that it is all my fault that the relationship is severed. I guess I am in the perfect position for Satan to heap his shit on to me, and yep, I am feeling it friends. I am really feeling buried by it at the moment.