Water Under the Bridge?

Nothing aggravates me more than people saying what happened to me was "in the past,"--implying
that I should get over it. The people who say this are usually bitter family members, angry at the fact that I am still angry. But I think they are the ones who need to get over it. They need to deal with the fact that I am still carrying a lot of pain--and always will be, to some extent.

These people claim the past isn't around anymore--like water flowing under a bridge. You are still there, solid as a rock, but what happened to you is no longer there, and therefore you should be done with it. They don't understand how much the past affects the present, how much something that happened "in the past" can still affect you deeply now.

In my life, I have come across people in their forties, fifties, and older who are dealing with the very real, very damaging consequences of sibling abuse. That so many people are still in agony speaks to me on a deep level--it tells me that what happened "in the past" still deeply affects their lives in the present.

One college professor I had was clearly still reeling from the effects of sibling abuse. During lecture, he would often mention how his older brother would tease him. One day, he told a story about how his family went to some sort of Chuck E. Cheese-like place, and he won a stuffed animal, and his brother teased him mercilessly for winning "a girl's toy."

Such a story may seem like "no big deal" to some, but had the same teasing comment been leveled at the older brother, I'm sure he would have thought it was a VERY big deal--and pummeled the younger brother in response. And he would still remember the story to this day. And it wouldn't be "in the past" to him.

I've mentioned before that I'm good at reading people. Well, I could tell that this professor was damaged in other ways. He was very insecure, and put on a confident air to cover it up. He was also clearly ashamed of what had happened to him--thinking that bullying like this wouldn't have happened to a stronger person. That he must have been a real weakling to have been picked on so extensively. He was also divorced, and I'm sure his failed marriage had something to do with his past.

Something I've noticed about people making dismissive remarks: such traumas have clearly never happened to them. For if they had, they would never dream of telling me that I should just get over it. There is no "getting over" what happened to you. Not really. You get through it, and the trauma changes shape, but it never completely disappears.

Sibling abuse will likely always affect you in one way or another. That doesn't mean you just need to "let go" or "get over it." It means you're a human being who has been traumatized, and you're dealing with that trauma the best way you can. There is no getting over the past. The past absolutely affects the present, and your job is to learn ways to manage your past without letting it overcome you. Don't let anyone tell you differently.

Multi-Faceted Healing Approach

One of the most unhelpful things I did in trying to heal was going to therapy.

I'm serious. Therapy did way more harm than good. 

There are several reasons why this was the case, and I won't go into them all. In general, though, I felt like my therapist's approach was not empowering, but blaming and shaming. He did not validate my feelings, but dismissed them. That is not therapy. And if a therapist out there reading this disagrees, then I say that should not be therapy. One of the purposes of therapy should be to make you feel better. If it's not making you feel better, but worse, why go?  

What I learned from my terrible therapist is that we are in charge of our own healing. We shouldn't be looking to some sort of outside source to make us feel better. We need to do that ourselves.

....But how do we do that?

There is no one way to heal our wounds. There are actually many, many ways to do that. In fact, healing most likely involves three or four or five or more different methods. And if you strongly feel that therapy is one of them for you, by all means, do that. Here is a list of ideas we can use for healing: 

1. Therapy - Yes, I put this first. Not because I agree with it, but because this is often the first one that comes to mind. I encourage you to try out therapy, but if you don't like your therapist, or if you don't think it's working, run out of that office as fast as you can. Don't waste your time with an idiot or an asshole. 

2. Friends - One of the most helpful things for me was expressing my feelings to an empathetic listener, a.k.a. my friend. If you have a friend in your life who is a really good listener, take full advantage of it. Getting your feelings out and having them validated helps TREMENDOUSLY in trying to heal your shit. This will take some courage from you and some vulnerability, but if you have a truly supportive friend in your life, it will be worth it. 

3. Creative Outlet - Writing. Drawing. Dancing. Music. Creativity is a method many people use to soothe their souls. If you are a creative person yourself, creating works of art can be a helpful way to get your feelings out. 

4. Physical Activity - If it doesn't accomplish anything else, physical activity at least gets you doing something, instead of just bouncing your hurt feelings inside your head. It's a great way to physically release the pent-up anger inside you. This is my go-to method when my own demons attack. 

5. Truth - Speak your truth to the people who need to hear it. Your parents who didn't protect you, your siblings who abused you, and other adult figures in your life who egged on the abuse, or at least didn't encourage it to stop. This is very scary, and may take weeks, months, years of preparation. But if you do it, even if it doesn't accomplish anything else, at least they've heard your side of the story. And that matters a lot. 

6. Punishment - There are many ways to punish a wrongdoer. I've mentioned before about how I'm not against giving the abusers a taste of their own medicine. There are other ways to punish them as well. Cutting them out of your life is one method. Do it temporarily or permanently. Send them a signal that you're holding them accountable for what they did. There will be consequences for this, yes, but I found that those consequences were worth the price of healing myself.

7. Forgiveness - I know you hate this word. And I still feel strongly that you should only forgive once you're ready to forgive. But if you reach a place (like I did) where you're like...."O.K. I might be ready to try experimenting with this whole 'letting go' thing," do it. It feels great. And I need to give you the standard "forgiveness lecture" (I'm sorry): Forgiveness doesn't mean saying what they did was right. It just means giving yourself a break, and not letting their toxicity damage you anymore. 

6. Let the World Punish Them - I saved this one for last, because it's the one you have no control over. I'm just putting it in here as something to keep in mind. In a few families, I noticed that the abusive sibling sort of had the world punish them. In one family I know of, a bully older sister saw the error of her ways when she moved to one of the meanest cities in America. Being around the constant hostility served her a great big piece of humble pie....and she was never mean again. There are many, many ways the world will humble us. And as big kids grow into adults, a lot of them receive this humbling. Just keep in mind that sometimes, things have a way of working themselves out, and all you have to do is sit back and watch (and enjoy). 

So those are just a few things to keep in mind, wherever you are in your journey. In general, do what feels right to you. You are the captain of your ship. And in time, you'll find healing.

Undeveloped Limit-Setting Abilities

Boundaries are something that I've struggled with a lot throughout my life. We all do, but I believe my own boundary problems have been worse than the average person's. And a lot of my struggles can be attributed to sibling abuse.

You don't know "non-confrontational"until you're frightened of your sister screaming at you because of how you sort the laundry. You can't understand walking on eggshells until you've experienced the daily fear of "what is my sister going to make fun of me today for?". You don't know how hilariously inept you find the advice "just say no" until you've experienced painful, debilitating learned helplessness at the hands of your parents who have no concern whatsoever for the fact that you're being repeatedly disrespected.

That's only a small smattering of what I experienced as a child, which carried over into my adult life, and still affects me today. For a long time, I thought my inability to say no was simply due to a fear of confrontation. Nobody likes making others angry, right? Well, I read a book a while ago that really gave me insight into my struggles. It's called Boundaries by Drs. Henry Cloud and John Townsend. You can buy it on Amazon for less than $10. If you choose to buy it, trust me, it's worth the price.

One of the most significant contributions that book made to the understanding of myself was their explanation of how boundaries can be damaged. One big reason people from dysfunctional families have trouble setting boundaries is because they've been taught that when they say "no," they will lose someone's love.

This statement didn't resonate with me all at once, but after I sat down and thought about it for a bit, I noticed patterns in my life that really confirmed this theory. The biggest key for me was realizing that my saying "no" to my oldest sibling (the one I've cut off a relationship with) only took place after I knew I didn't love her anymore. Because when that happened, I knew I had nothing to lose if I said no.

There are many ways children can feel like they've lost someone's love, and one of these ways is when their attempts to say no are greeted with hostility. In my case, there were several ways in which my "no" was not respected. One way was through my siblings. If I stood up to them, they would often increase their efforts to make fun of me, or get angry and yell back. Another way was through my parents. If I fought back, my dad would immediately jump in and tell us "STOP FIGHTING!!!" I wasn't allowed to stand up for myself when I was being disrespected. I can remember different moments throughout my childhood when I felt resentful about something, but didn't speak up because I was worried about getting in trouble. Even from a young age, my parents had ingrained in me the firm belief that Fighting Is Bad.

In my life today, I can spot patterns reminiscent of my childhood. I still fear losing someone's love, and will often not say no to unreasonable demands. And then there are the bullies. I feel like I am constantly running into those gremlins. Within the past three years, I can name four separate incidents where I was bullied by someone (usually a roommate, coworker, or classmate). It makes me feel angry and helpless all over again. My attempts to stand up for myself are never successful.

Helplessness is a big factor in having unhealthy boundaries. "What's the use?" is my battle cry. I'd rather feel angry than both angry and defeated. I discovered long ago that the underdog story sensationalized in Hollywood films is nothing but a myth. Fighting back does not do anything to stop the aggressor. Not being attacked has more to do with not being seen as a target, something I have not yet figured out how to accomplish.

And then there are other ways people can develop unhealthy boundaries. These are often inappropriate attempts to set boundaries, such as withdrawing from relationships, taking insecurities out on others, bullying so as to be seen as more powerful, or overcompensating by being very controlling.

But there is hope. You can develop better boundaries. This usually occurs when close friends redo the work done by your family of origin. After developing close connections with these people, you can begin to feel safe in saying no. Because you learn that you will be loved, even when you set limits.

Letting Go

I'm about to write a post I never would have even considered writing three years ago. But here goes.

One of the most painful, horrible, unbearable parts of dealing with the aftermath of sibling abuse is carrying around the all-consuming rage that burns in your soul and permeates through every aspect of your being. Where does this rage come from? The simple answer is that is stems from years of having been tortured and traumatized by siblings. But it's actually an agglomeration of things. My rage was a combination of the anger, resentment, frustration, helplessness, humiliation and indignation inflicted upon me after countless encounters of my siblings abusing me and my parents dismissing and neglecting me.

I could never give you a full picture of what I went through. All I can do is convey the following snapshot: I spent many, many nights in my room doing various activities to "work through" my anger, like screaming into pillows, biting things, punching things, clenching my teeth, tearing things into bits. Anything to release a valve on the pent-up energy constantly threatening to explode somewhere, anywhere. I cried many times, too. I felt helpless and alone and constantly found myself thinking that I desperately needed help. But help was nowhere to be found. Nearly every day, I would walk around in an angry cloud, appearing normal on the outside, but feeling the rage underneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

I'd heard about "forgiveness"--pardoning someone for what they've done wrong. But that idea never seemed right to me. How can I look at the evidence, the piles upon piles of mental testimony I've collected, and say that the aggressor is..."forgiven?" How is that a good thing? Isn't that just enabling?

Well, I haven't reached a final answer to that question. I don't know if I'll ever truly "forgive." But I have dealt more and more with something I'm calling "letting go."

Letting go means taking the anger stored inside you, and....letting go of it. It means telling yourself, "I have decided to release my anger. I am no longer going to carry it with me. It has burned a hole in my heart, and I no longer welcome it. It doesn't have a home inside me anymore."

But wait a minute! Isn't that repression?

Not quite. Repression is denying your feelings. Letting go is acknowledging your feelings, and then releasing them. It is, in a way, moving on. It is staying in the present and absorbing all the energy from the present moment, rather than letting past energy consume you.

And it deals with yourself, and yourself only. Not the other person who hurt you. They don't even have to know you've "moved on" or "let go." The sibling I'm thinking about--the one I cut out of my life--has no idea I'm writing this post, or that I'm in the process of letting go, or anything like that.

Letting go is a process I struggle with. Even just now, I had an anger episode when I started thinking about my family. But whenever I do manage to "let go," it is the best gift I can give myself. I feel so at peace that day, after I've let go of my anger. I feel in control, and not taken down by my resentment.

And one more thing. Letting go does not mean no longer fighting for justice. It is okay to do the things you feel you must do to hold the guilty party (or parties) accountable (i.e., the aforementioned sibling who is still cut out of my life). Letting go does not make you weak. It puts you at peace, grants you control over your life, and makes you emotionally and physically healthier.

So try to let go today.

Expecting to Be Teased

Something must have happened to my brain after my siblings used me as a receptacle for their own insecure feelings. All the teasing and torturing impacted my life in countless ways. One of the ways I have not yet

touched on is the expectation I held throughout most of my childhood and adolescence that teasing was inevitable. Wherever I went, whoever I was with, I simply expected to be teased. 

This is one of those things you don't notice until you reflect on it. Growing up, it never struck me as odd that I was the constant target of teasing. Heck, the teasing itself never seemed abnormal at all. It didn't feel good, but it felt...habitual. Like I deserved it. I grew up "laughing off" the snide comments that were constantly aimed at me, so in my relations with my peers I did the same. 

I remember one incident where one of my older sisters and her friend were making fun of me over something I wrote. It was a poem or a letter or something they thought was stupid, and they quoted the thing to me in annoying, mimicking voices. What did I do? Did I get defensive and tell them to shove it? Nope. I grinned sheepishly and laughed with them. In my head I thought that because they were older, they must be right. It had been a stupid thing to write. I deserved to be made fun of for writing something that stupid. 

As I got older, I had more encounters with insufferably disrespectful people. We all do, but the difference between me and most people I meet was that my reactions to these rude people were way different from most people's. Often, I had no idea that someone had treated me disrespectfully. 

In college, my friend Rachel and I once had to meet with someone to discuss housing options. The person we met with seemed nice enough, and we had a short, pleasant conversation with her about our housing plans for the next school year. Or so I thought. As soon as we got outside, Rachel muttered something about that "bitchy housing lady..." I didn't say anything out loud, but I remember thinking, "Oh, you thought THAT was bitchy?!" One comment she had made to us had seemed a little off, but it didn't strike me as being that big of a deal. 

I've had more experiences like this. One time I was at a bar with a group of friends, and our server comes over to get our drink orders. When it's my turn to request a drink, I quickly give my order and then sit there, waiting for him to move on to the next person. I had forgotten that (at least at my age) servers look at ID before serving alcoholic drinks. My server motions for me to take out my driver's license, and then shouts "Come on! Come on!" as he's waving his hand. When he leaves to go back into the kitchen, my friend turns to me and says, "Ugh, that guy was so rude to you." 

I hadn't even noticed. In fact, I was giggling as he was waving and shouting at me. His reaction, of course, was right. How could I have been so stupid as to have forgotten to take out my ID? As usual, I was denying any defensive messages inside of me, and agreeing with the message of the bully. The child inside of me who laughed off embarrassment and thought her powerful older siblings were always right had made an appearance. And she thought she deserved to be teased. 

I ask myself if there's anything someone can do that would make me think they deserve to be teased for it. I can't think of anything. I don't tease people. Ever. Knowing how painful it is to be on the receiving end has made me extra aware of others' feelings and of not hurting them. Even in cases where people have made a serious goof-up somewhere, I correct as gently as possible. I never make fun of them for it. 

There is one very special case where I think someone deserves to be teased. And that's right after they've teased someone else. My philosophy is The Golden Rule: Treat others the way you want to be treated. If someone disobeys this rule, if they think they can taunt others for the thrill it brings them, they deserve to be on the receiving end of the same treatment.

It's funny how sometimes the bullied are accused of being "too sensitive." In my experience, bullying made me DE-sensitized to things I shouldn't have been. I've come to realize that we're all sensitive, and we all don't like being teased. In all situations, (well....with a few exceptions, as mentioned above) we deserve to be treated respectfully. And in my own life, I know I need to work on replacing my teasing expectation with a different one: expecting to be treated with respect.    

Dealing with Your Anger

For the past six years, I have been angry all the time. Every day, I've walked around with a black cloud over my head, my heart pounding, my teeth gritted and my hands clenched in fists. For those of you dealing with the aftermath of sibling abuse (or currently living through it), you are well acquainted with this sensation. Resentment is the shadow stubbornly stuck to the side of any sibling abuse survivor. And it feels like no matter what, you can't get rid of it. 

Even when life was going well, my anger was always bubbling underneath the surface. I was a volcano who was going to explode at any moment. In the company of great friends, I was angry. Seeing a long-awaited movie in the theaters, I was angry. Catching a glimpse of my crush across the hall, I was angry. Eating great food, finding the perfect shirt in the mall, watching the sunset on the beach, hearing my favorite song coming on the radio, during all of those events, I was angry. 

My resentment came from lots of things--being picked on by my siblings, not being protected by my parents, not being allowed to stand up for myself, and all of the other injustices, disappointments and heartbreaks that happened in my family. 

I found that even when I left the nest, my anger came with me. I couldn't let it go. At least when you're at home, your anger can serve a purpose. It is a natural reaction to those who abuse you, and can serve to protect you when the need arises. But when you've left those people behind, there's no longer a reason to be as angry as you were. But no matter how frequently I told myself that, my anger stayed with me. 

I'd consulted many sources of wisdom, from Buddha to Elizabeth Gilbert (the author of Eat,Pray, Love) on dealing with resentment. Each one of them said basically the same thing: holding on to anger was not healthy, and it was best to "just let it go." 

Okay, I'd think to myself whenever I read something about "letting anger go," but it's not that easy. How do I "let it go" without doing what I've been doing my entire life: repressing my feelings and making myself even angrier?

It turns out there's an exact art and science to it.

I've tried many different ways to let myself be happier and put my anger aside. Here's what has worked and what hasn't.

It's not about repressing your feelings. 
If you're doing it right, putting your anger aside shouldn't involve repression. The first time I tried to conquer my demons was a near catastrophe. It was a school field trip, and I was with my classmates, walking around a city, listening to a boring speaker drone on about historical facts I didn't care about. Demons are often triggered by frustrating events (at least I've noticed that for me), and what was frustrating me was the fact that we were standing in the freezing cold rain, bracing ourselves from the wind, and listening to a lady who just wouldn't shut up. It's like she didn't even notice the weather, because she happily stood there for about fifteen minutes yammering on about something I couldn't even hear over the noise of the wind and road. 

Resentment is when an emotion like anger is attached to an old memory. When something in your current life makes you feel frustrated, memories attached to frustration can surface, making you more frustrated. So that moment, when my emotions came bubbling up to the surface, I thought if I just told myself, "don't be angry," everything would be all right. Big mistake.

As had always happened in previous years whenever I tried to stuff my feelings down, I ended up getting angrier. For the rest of the tour, I was boiling inside, about to explode. "THIS 'LET IT GO' STUFF DOESN'T WORK!" I was screaming to myself in my head, "I think I'd rather be angry." Actually, typing this makes me angry. Phew, I need to calm down. Hold on a sec.

Ok, I'm back.

As I was saying, freeing yourself from your anger shouldn't involve repressing your feelings. It involves different formula.

It's about redirecting your thoughts.
When I observed my own thought processes, I began to notice that there were many triggers for my anger, not just frustration. Being the introvert that I am, I frequently get lost in my thoughts. When I'm just standing around, thinking, my thoughts turn to all my old memories of having been in situations where I was hurt and powerless. And then I get angry.

When I get lost in my thoughts, my mind begins churning up things my parents and siblings have done and said to me. It's like my brain thrives on anger, and will not work unless fury is churning around in it. 

What I decided to do instead of saying no to the angry feelings, was to say no to the images attached to the feelings. For example, instead of saying, "I will not be angry," to myself in the middle of a frustrating event, I would tell myself, "I will not think about the event that is making me angry." I would tell myself, "I will not think about the siblings who tortured me, the parents who didn't do their job, or the place where the event occurred." This new method helped a lot. 

Additionally, I would redirect my mind to think of positive things. I would think of things that had gone well recently, like a compliment I had received, or some good food I'd eaten, or a new friend I'd made. Focusing on the good events and throwing away the bad ones gave me a greater sense of control over my life. And a part of me really liked that. The fact that I could make myself happier while respecting my anger was the key.

Your anger will still be respected.
The reason why I had resisted "turning off" my anger for so long was because I felt like it would have been treating my anger disrespectfully. If you're like me, then you probably think as I do, that you have a right to be angry. And you do! Anger is a natural and healthy response to what has happened to you. It's not wrong. When someone has treated you badly, it would be foolish to not be angry. 

But when you're out and about, living your life, letting your anger consume you is also unwise. It is far, far better to tell your angry thoughts, "Okay, I hear you, I know how you feel, and right now I'm going to give you a break and focus on the good things in my life." Your anger is still there, and it still has its place, but that place is not interfering with the life you're currently living. 

And when it's time to use your anger, you can choose to let it out. Use your anger productively, and tell your parents and siblings about how they have hurt you. This will be another post entirely, but using anger in that fashion is also a good way to respect your feelings.

Finally, it is important to remember that deciding to be happy does not make you weak. In fact, releasing anger's grip on you is one of the strongest things you can do. Happiness is not for ninnies. Happiness is a goal for all of us who are striving to live well. And living well is the best revenge.