Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Support Group
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Today's sound track is a song my hubs and I began singing together during the pneumonia retreat during his series of near death experiences between this past November to February. Singing harmony with the love of my life from the same sheet of music is, far and away, the greatest of my recent gifts. Feeling an especially great need for appreciation just now.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9VoLCO-d6U
The communication from the DIL sprouted into a brand new experience for me: A texted gang bang. I have yet to find words to speak the experience with confidence. The son -still sounding like her personal puppet- texting from one line while the DIL texted from another. All extreme negativity, laced with claims of victim innocence in the face of my wicked ways, of course. My senses filled with the distressingly familiar scene of my grandson screaming his distress while his parents disappeared into their e-toys once again. After 3 years of exploiting us, they are no closer to financial independence, but they can still afford the latest, greatest e-toys, both for themselves and their two-year old son, along with plenty of time to disappear into the virtual realities while their dusty precious thing piles continue to spread through our home like a cancerous growth.
Hubs tells me he is holding up okay under the lonely stress of it all. I thought I heard the snap of his Superman cape while he let me on the phone last night. His emotional Modus Operandus is to be "Just Fine," until it is time for the life-saving measures.
I am feeling stable this morning, but. . . Barely. . . Got my therapy tool box spread out around me. Feeling the loneliness of exile. Wondering if I need to call an Elder Abuse Hotline. They are proliferating almost as fast as New and Improved e-toys. . .
Support needed.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9VoLCO-d6U
The communication from the DIL sprouted into a brand new experience for me: A texted gang bang. I have yet to find words to speak the experience with confidence. The son -still sounding like her personal puppet- texting from one line while the DIL texted from another. All extreme negativity, laced with claims of victim innocence in the face of my wicked ways, of course. My senses filled with the distressingly familiar scene of my grandson screaming his distress while his parents disappeared into their e-toys once again. After 3 years of exploiting us, they are no closer to financial independence, but they can still afford the latest, greatest e-toys, both for themselves and their two-year old son, along with plenty of time to disappear into the virtual realities while their dusty precious thing piles continue to spread through our home like a cancerous growth.
Hubs tells me he is holding up okay under the lonely stress of it all. I thought I heard the snap of his Superman cape while he let me on the phone last night. His emotional Modus Operandus is to be "Just Fine," until it is time for the life-saving measures.
I am feeling stable this morning, but. . . Barely. . . Got my therapy tool box spread out around me. Feeling the loneliness of exile. Wondering if I need to call an Elder Abuse Hotline. They are proliferating almost as fast as New and Improved e-toys. . .
Support needed.
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I don't really know how to label this but I having a rough week and I can't say it's one thing.... I have a lot on my plate which is nothing new and I try to cope in many positive ways and do but I still have my moments.My kids more so my daughters talk to me about everything which I know it's cause of comfort and we are close.... however I really struggle with the venting about their dad which...
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I did the dumbest thing today. I charged my earbuds, unplugged the block and put the block in my little bag instead of the earbuds. I wasn't happy about that when I got to the gym. What a dummy!
Loving someone who has no love to give is as worthless as Tatas on a bullfrog. And the loveless know what their trump card is to keep you and Hubby in the fold, your Grandson. Words will do no justice to this king of ignorance and manipulation. I know all too well for I have lived the same realities that you are dealing with in spades.
The question will be for you and hubby, when is enough, enough. When and how to set those boundaries so that you and hubby can live a nice, peaceful existence is a toughy. Blessings and hugs while you and hubby sort through this question and come up with an appropriate action plan of peace.
I've had to bear witness to a dozen tirades, where -- via text -- my step-son unleashed all his fury, hatred of the world, and frustration of his life .... on his mother -- my wife.
Those wounds cut very deeply.
I'm just ... so sorry.
She is 20 years younger than me and yes still uses the kids(18-10yrs) as tools on me. She lives on her e-world posting more than I think she has time to, but of course for her the ease of texting is like breathing. But it is an assault when they team up.
Gentle hugs of support, I am listening to the Joni Mitchell miniconcert now after your start.
Jewell
My mother will be casting herself the victim and the martyr and I will be wondering how did I get sucked into that old symbiosis and not see it, and oh, such not-fun to be had ahead. Cacnerous growth is an apt description....
Home should be a sanctuary. If they cannot respect that of your home, then they must take responsibility for buiding one of their own, but with a small child innocently caught in the web.... Gentle soft vibes of healing and help to you, Arfie.
I've heard that if you don't set boundaries for kids, they will escalate until you do (or they land in juvie). But the same kids who scream loudly for boundaries fight back viciously when you put them in place.
My wish for you is professional support to hold your hand through this gruesome process and reassure you that you are on the right track. And that the vicious tirades are nothing but the squeals of overgrown brats resisting the imposition of healthy limits. This process is excruciating, but you are doing the right thing, and it's even the right thing for them. IMHO.
I am a downright wicked textor, myself. I feel it as the same skill set I began developing in 1973 with the US Army point-to-point circuits. I was trained to handle a dozen of PTP's at a time, alongside other com-center duties. Avatar name, "Pizza Face." Add in my senior hearing issues and. . . En garde. . . The only new skill I see in my personal inventory is when to turn off the phone. I hold that feature as the smartest tech development in recent years.
I am feeling too fragile to drive very far today. Am holed up with printed newspapers and my psychotherapy tool box. My word of the day is, "Subsidence." The newspaper article which gave me the word is headlined, "Protecting the home from forgotten mines." Think I feel a new song coming on. . .
Thanks for the support, guys. Wish I was riding a real-time tornado instead of this goopy soup. Sigh. I also wish I was as rich and strong as the wise parents of the up and coming generation seem to think I am. Gots allot of other wishes, too. . . Sigh again. . . Deep breaths. . .
They want to explain everything which means of course that they come out looking good
I'm glad that you know the turn off switch so well....Another hug and a blessing...xo
These two are passive aggressive in the extreme. If their pattern holds true, they won't initiate further contact until they run out of money and even that entitlement train has been dwindling to the point where even their game-boy sized memory is remembering.
Our next contact is likely to have official badges attached.
My poor grandchildren. . . Heart still breaking. . . Cries still loud in my ears. . .