Abusive childhood used to give one a carte blanche to wallow, but no more. Nowadays, we're expected to get over it, pick up the pieces and make something of ourselves. I cannot say that I'm disappointed by the shift of focus, but I do find it interesting that the ones most noisily insisting on us "growing up", "getting a grip", and "moving on" are usually the ones who'd done us the most harm. Being a bully nowadays is swell. You can dish out the abuse whenever you feel like it, and still the consensus will be that it's your victim who's a poor sport for not forgiving and apologising instantly the moment you say it was their fault for provoking you in the first place. (I'm not comparing bullying to rape, but there are worrying analogies. Sometimes, I did feel like I was being told my psyche was wearing inappropriate clothes, so it was boorish of me to cry emotional rape.)
What makes one person's feelings less important than another's? It seems like the answer is: how you play the game and which role you take (or accept when given).
When I decided to stop being a victim, I did not resolve to seek revenge. I did not decide to switch sides. I simply wanted to step out of the game. For some, this was my biggest offence yet.
I'm not going to apologize for choosing to take care of my emotional health first. I will not be made to feel guilty for not being "a good sport" when the game is mud-flinging and I'm the target. Most of all, I will not "move on" until I have a guarantee the abuse won't happen again. It is my right to forgive but not forget. Which means not pretending all's okay between me and you if you continue to refuse to treat me with respect we all deserve as fellow human beings. To use Eric Berne's succinct terminology, I do not want to live the life of a Sulk. If you want to keep being a Jerk, it's up to you. But only a Sulk would want a Jerk in their life, so don't be surprised if I no longer want to spend any time with you.
Yes, I'm done with Games People Play. This is what I've learned: my favorite games are Look How Hard I've Tried, Harried, and Wooden Leg. My husband entertains himself with Now I've Got You, You Son Of A Bitch, Courtroom, and I'm Only Trying To Help You. Together, we make a great team.
The conversation that followed this realisation was one of the hardest my husband and I ever had. I love him, but I cannot free myself from my games if he's not on the same page. Try telling somebody he's a Jerk! (Hint: explaining it's a model-derived name for a certain set of behaviors might ease the blow. Telling them you mean Jerk with a capital J is not the way.)
Plan for this week:
- keep eating well
- keep monitoring willpower depletion
- keep practicing spotting games
- if somebody tries to engage as a Child or Parent (with an ulterior motive), respond as an Adult; if they persist, disengage; do not give in to the emotional fallout
- organize your day
The latter sounds vague, but it's my placeholder for a number of very specific activities that need to be done daily, and which I love using to play Harried. I'm not going to give up all games immediately and entirely - I've played them all my life, the moves come naturally, and unlearning them will take a while and a lot of effort. Ditching it all wholesale would be setting myself up for failure (Look How Hard I've Tried!), so instead I'll tackle one small aspect at a time. First, I need to find a way to be more efficient and enjoy the chores instead of leaving everything to the last minute and then running around haggard and resentful. (Isn't playing Harried fun?!)
Next up on the reading list: I'm OK, You're OK.
Next up on the reading list: I'm OK, You're OK.
photo by Francesco Rachello
