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Estranged relative workplace harassment
My mentally ill parents were my primary abusers since childhood as a missionary kid overseas in a war zone. As an adult, after a violent physical attack during a visit to them for Christmas 1992, I estranged myself from them for 8 years. Then when my mother got breast cancer in 2004, I moved back near them until 2007 for three years to get her through chemotherapy and radiation.
After my mother's cancer went into remission, they returned to old abusive patterns, and in 2010 on another Christmas visit there was another physical attack. So I have estranged myself from them again for the 9 years since then now.
During our first estrangement from 1992-2000, my family did not test my boundaries. I was married, and they cared about how it would make them look bad to the in-laws if they acted out like they do. Since I'm divorced now, this time in this second estrangement my family decided to pursue me.
These are extreme people. They were caught committing church fraud in South America, and were convicted in 3 different ways: by their local church board in South Ameieca, by South American government authorities (who deported them), by their US missionary headquarters in the USA (which expelled them and removed their missionary appointment). They lied about it all, though caught, and blamed me, even though I hadn't spoken to them in 6 years at that point and knew nothing about it at all.
Nonetheless, they are mentally delusional and can claim innocence to the point that they can be very convincing to church people who are vulnerable to them. One of those church people is an ex-FBI agent, and they got him to track me down at my office at my present workplace.
The ex-FBI agent started leaving me phone from them messages on my office voicemail. I reported him to my Human Resources office at work, and they threatened to charge him with workplace harassment, so he stopped.
Today, though, I got my first contact from my mentally ill parents in the mail at my office at work. It was a FedEx package that contained a note from them. It's my father's 85th birthday today, so they sent a note reprimanding me for failing to send him a birthday card.
He's bipolar and a malignant narcissist and she has borderline personality disorder. The extent of their narcissism is evident in being angry that their victim isn't celebrating one of their birthdays. The note was signed off saying "love forever."
That "forever" part set me to thinking how abusers like them never change. Though 3 times convicted of crimes in South America, they forever have lied since then claiming innocence, just as they have lied forever about using their fists on me constantly, just as they now forever continue this workplace harassment by whatever means they can.
It reminded me of an episode of The West Wing tv series. In it, Pres. Bartlett has a therapy session to help him with insomnia. It turns out that the president has PTSD insomnia from childhood because his abusive father beat him. During the session, the therapist points out that the president drove himself to overachieve his whole life to try to get his father to stop beating him.
The therapist says it was pointless to satisfy his abuser because, as far as the president's pleasing his abusive father to get him to stop hitting him, it was "never, ever going to happen." No matter what we may try to do to please our abusers, to use my dad's word in his FedExed note to me today, they are "forever."
All we can do as their chosen ones is set boundaries and, when breached, repair and maintain them forever, too. Support welcome as I try to do that while triggered on this abuse anniversary contact from my abuser. Thank you.
Then Saturday, somebody shot out the driver's side mirror of my car with a bb gun. I had processed Friday's rough patch, though, so I was able to keep my catastrophizing in perspective. It probably was a kid messing around with a bb gun general, not anything aimed at me in particular.
For insurance purposes, I did go by the police station and get a policeman to file a report. But when he came out to see the damage, he said "bb gun" before I even said anything. And he thought it was a kid messing around in general, too, because an actual vandal would have done more than that.
So Sunday I went off to see Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits anyway, and had a good time after all. It's nice to find that balance with PTSD, where you don't ignore stuff happened and you take care of it, but on the other hand you don't blow it out of proportion. It was a good concert.