Let Me Be Clear

A couple days ago I posted about my past year and the frustration I’ve felt as a result of mistreatment from my family and just general bad luck. What I wrote is true. I’m not sorry for it. This also will be hopefully the last time I write about this.

I’ve been approached by family members who seemed indignant that I felt the need to post in so public a manner, so I will explain myself. My problem is not that I have depression, my problem is not that I am lesbian. My problem is that my mother is emotionally abusive. Period.  Yes, maybe posting about it publicly is low, but I refuse to be manipulated into staying quiet and honestly the public validation feels nice after living with shitty behavior and believing no one would believe me.  I’ve had to pretend that the way I’ve been treated is normal and okay when it’s not, and finally having that out in the open feels amazing. If that makes me a petty person then I’ll own it, I’m a petty person.

But let me be clear, what our relationship had been this year (and increasingly so in the years leading up to now) is emotionally abusive. I will link to the sources I’ve used. A large chunk of this comes from an article posted by Psychology Today, so I will keep those in quotes and write my additions 

alongside.

Let’s start with definitions. Psychological abuse (also referred to as psychological violence, emotional abuse, or mental abuse) is a form of abuse, characterized by a person subjecting, or exposing, another person to behavior that may result in psychological trauma, including anxiety, chronic depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder (1). In 1996, Health Canada argued that emotional abuse is "based on power and control", and defines emotional abuse as including rejecting, degrading, terrorizing, isolating, corrupting/exploiting and "denying emotional responsiveness" as characteristic of emotional abuse (2).

“Emotional abuse is an attempt to control, in just the same way that physical abuse is an attempt to control another person. The only difference is that the emotional abuser does not use physical hitting, kicking, pinching, grabbing, pushing, or other physical forms of harm. Rather the perpetrator of emotional abuse uses emotion as his/her weapon of choice.

Commonly, the perpetrator of emotional abuse does not know that he or she is being abusive. Rather, she may be aware that she feels insecure about whether or not her partner loves her, so she feels compelled to accuse him of cheating, blame him for her unhappiness, or constantly check his voice and text messages, etc. The accusations, the blame, and the constant checking up are forms of emotional abuse. “ (3)

Replace cheating with “leaving the church” or “following Satan” and the comparison still stands.

The common argument in favor of someone who’s emotionally abusive is they do what they do out of love. I believe that’s true. It doesn’t make it not abusive. Attempting to control another person’s behavior, no matter the motivation, is still abuse. If anything, trying to rationalize controlling behavior with the ultimate noble motivation is arguably the most manipulative way to blame a victim for their situation. I’ve watched her make this rationalization in real time, over and over again. It’s often supported by how she interprets what Prophets and Apostles say. Because she is my mother, and because she loves me, because she wants us to be reunited in the celestial kingdom and because the Apostles have made it pretty clear queer people have to live a very specific way in order to achieve that (which includes either lifelong celibacy or mixed orientation marriage both of which can be damaging for a person), She feels justified in trying to control my behavior to those restrictions. She hasn’t spelled it out as such, but she has told me in less words that this is the case. It is her spiritual duty as a mother to control my behavior, and never stop trying to control my behavior.

“He may think that he knows what’s best for his partner or what looks correct to the outside world, so he is constantly trying to control her every move, criticizing her harshly when she doesn’t do it his way or threatening her when she seems to go outside the lines. He may verbally attack her when she argues with him, because her arguing is convincing evidence to him that he is not in control of her. He may criticize her talking, her walking, her dressing, her interactions with others, her style of living and coping in order to gain and keep control over her." (3)

Being told that I don’t know what my own feelings are and that my parents know me better than a licensed professional or myself when I come out to them is manipulative. Having what people think of our relationship be more important than my lived experience has been tiring. This is especially true when she talks about me behind my back, which surely happens. It’s damaging when it happens within our family, a support group that’s supposed to be inclusive and safe. I’ll get back to this later. The criticism I received for moving in with Rachael was irrational, and based solely I believe on the fact that she wanted me to move in with her. Again, for that sweet security that control offers. When I did not, and when she helped me voluntarily only to verbally attack me for taking that help, it was a sloppier but scarier manifestation of manipulation. I pulled back my interaction with her after that, and walked on eggshells the rest of her stay to be on her good side without apologizing for her volunteered help because that’s crazy bullshit.

“For example: Mary constantly criticizes Tim in hopes that by putting him down, she will be able to control his behavior. She belittles him when they are alone, and she puts him down in front of others. When he tries to speak up for himself or call her on her behavior, she attempts to make him feel like he is crazy, like everyone knows he’s crazy, and no one would ever take him seriously (AKA gaslighting). She blames him for her unhappiness frequently, holding him responsible for how she feels. She takes little to no responsibility for her own choices and behavior. She uses a double-standard when it comes to her own behavior, not holding herself accountable when she does the same exact things for which she criticizes him. She calls him stupid, inept, dumb, and other like names frequently. When he speaks to her relatives or friends, she rolls her eyes in an attempt to manipulate them into disrespecting him. She frequently treats him with disdain and even disgust. She threatens to leave him or to stop speaking to him frequently. And she refuses to show him affection, giving affection only when he does exactly what she wants. She is especially cold, even nonverbal, when she is mad at him. Sometimes she goes days or even weeks without speaking to him. Mary also goes to other family members and friends of Tim’s to talk to them about Tim, thus isolating Tim from those who would be supportive and could let him know that he is being abused. Mary is showing a distinct pattern of emotional abuse that comes at Tim from several different directions:

1. Constant criticism or attempts to manipulate and control

2. Shaming and blaming with hostile sarcasm or outright verbal assault

3. The use of shaming and belittling language

4. Verbal abuse — name-calling

5. Withholding affection as punishment

6. Punishment and threats of punishment

7. Refusal to accept her part in the dynamic

8. Mind games, such as gaslighting, when it comes to accepting personal responsibility for her own happiness

9. Refusing to communicate at all

10. Isolating him from supportive friends and family.” (3)

Keep in mind, even if your partner only does a handful of these things, you are still in an emotionally abusive relationship. Do not fall into the trap of telling yourself "it's not that bad" and minimizing their behavior. Remember, everyone deserves to be treated with kindness and respect (4).

I have tried in different ways to show my mother that the things she does and says are hurtful. This is not the first time that these things have been discussed between us. The fact that she rationalizes it away, ‘forgets’ things that happen or that she says, and refuses to actually apologize in any meaningful way or take any responsibility for her actions takes it away from being just hurt to manipulation. Her past attempts to rewrite experiences saying that ‘[she] never said that’, or ‘[she] doesn’t remember that’ contribute to gaslighting. Clinging to rationalizations to justify her homophobia as loving and respectful is controlling. Holding me responsible for how she feels when I respond with hurt because ‘she loves me’ and how can I hold things against her that she does out of love removes her responsibility for her own feelings. Resorting to verbal abuse when I choose not do what she says is just verbal abuse. And my personal favorite, speaking to my brother behind my back and without my knowledge to the effect that he no longer supports me Isolated me from my family in a real way. It’s not a me or her situation Scott. It shouldn’t have ever been.

“Let’s talk about what emotional abuse is not. It is not emotionally abusive to break up with a partner. It is not emotionally abusive to argue with your partner. It is not emotionally abusive when someone reacts to what you have done with hurt. People react out of their own perceptions, so their reactions do not define your behavior. It is also not emotional abuse to speak one’s mind with blunt honesty. Perhaps the statement lacks tact, but it is not emotionally abusive. Again, just because someone reacts to what has been said with hurt does not mean that one has been emotionally abused.” (3)

I have never in any way attempted to control the behavior of my mother. I have made it clear that I have been hurt. I have asked for respect multiple times, sometimes peacefully and othertimes less so. And let’s be clear about this too: homophobia is not respectful. Telling me repeatedly that if I choose to love and marry a woman I will go to hell is not respectful. Ignoring when I ask you to stop telling me these things is not respectful. Trying to diagnose me behind my back is not respectful. Refusing to accept this part of my identity and instead trying to convince me it’s a mental disorder is not respectful. I ask her only to see me as a human being, one who is whole, and gay. The fact that she has fallen apart so much over this is upsetting for me to watch. I am sorry for that. But I think it speaks more about her need to do some deep soul searching, than it does for me to need to suddenly change my orientation on her behalf.

My mother turns 56 this November. She is more than old enough to be responsible for her feelings and her behavior. I for one am done making excuses for her. I for one am done trying to blame her behavior on something that I have done. I for one am done living in an abusive relationship.

I appreciate Elder Holland’s talk this past conference, but I feel his qualification on forgiveness after abuse was looked over by many, and honestly was a little unexplored. He says ‘ [Christ] did not say, “You are not allowed to feel true pain or real sorrow from the shattering experiences you have had at the hand of another.” Nor did He say, “In order to forgive fully, you have to reenter a toxic relationship or return to an abusive, destructive circumstance”' (5). We are not given a timetable for how quickly we must forgive. I understand that his whole talk was about forgiving quickly, but these wounds of mine run deep. Deeper than any other wounds I have sustained before, and I hope will ever have to endure again. They will be with me in some form for the rest of my life. It’s going to take me time to heal.

I have asked her not to contact me, and I hope in an effort to turn a new less-controlling-leaf she will respect that. I know that she read my last entry, so I want her to know it would help me trust her more if she would respect that. It would also help me trust her more if after significant time and probably therapy she were able to take some responsibility for all of this and make some significant changes to her behavior in relationships. I am under no obligation to continue our relationship and I make no promises about the future. I was never given a choice about having a relationship with my mother, but it is now my choice to try to live a healthier life without her.

1. Dutton, Donald G. (Summer 1994). "Patriarchy and wife assault: the ecological fallacy". Violence & Victims. Springer. 9 (2): 167–182. PMID 7696196. 
2. National Clearinghouse on Family Violence (1996). Emotional abuse. Ottawa, Canada: Public Health Agency of Canada. OCLC 61563015. Factsheet.
3. Matthews, Andrea. (September 2016) “When Is It Emotional Abuse?” Psychology Today. 
4. Gordon, Sherri. (September 2018) “How to Identify and Cope With emotional Abuse” . Verywell mind. verywellmind.com. 
5.  Holland, Jeffrey R. (October 2018) “The Ministry of Reconciliation”. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day saints. lds.org. 

Why I Sleep In

Otherwise titled "If the World Could Stop Shitting on Me Any Time, That Would be Great".

I'll be honest, I'm a  bit of a night owl, so I've been sleeping in after late nights for most of my life anyway.  But I've noticed a general downward spiral about the events of my life that despite my best efforts to reverse it continues with gale force speeds. So if you were looking for a cute self help topic, I'm sorry but this isn't it. I'm about to air out some shit and throw it at the walls in frustration. 

Sometimes I sleep in, because sleeping is when I'm happiest. Or maybe not happiest. But I think sleeping is the closest to not-existing I get sometimes.  It can be a disappointment when I wake up and realize I have to go on existing. 

And I'll admit I know I'm living with chronic depression.  It's a thing. But it's also not a big huge affliction, I don't let myself use it as an excuse because I've been living with it forever, and at this point I don't have insurance or money to pay for treatment so I just keep logs of the symptoms and try to live my life anyway.  It could probably be fixed at some point but I have tried my hardest not to let it slow me down up till now so I can wait until I'm financially stable to do something about it. It's sort of like needing to fix my feet and posture. I know it could be better helped by a chiropractor and some expensive insoles but for now I'll just deal with the aches and pains because it's easier to ignore them than face the fact that my feet are flat. It's not killing me so I guess it can stay.

Want to know what my life has been like this year? I'm done with worrying what the people in my life think about me so lets talk details. And to be fair, there are years ahead of this that contribute to my dissatisfaction with life and humanity as a whole and this isn't even a comprehensive breakdown it's just the highlights. 

Last Christmas: It was pretty all-right but I think my lack of a boyfriend was getting to my Mother. despite trying to redirect conversations toward what I was doing in school, (and getting blank stares as per usual), somehow Mom kept redirecting even the most innocuous conversations back toward babies, and my Sister and I's apparent lack of babies. Christmas is only for kids apparently. Beyond that though when I tried to confide to my mother that I'm afraid of pregnancy and have been memorably at least since I was five, she didn't seem to see why that was an issue and doubled down on telling me for two weeks why having kids is so great. Truthfully in a lower dose this would have been innocuous, but in context of the rest of this year my Mom's lack of empathy makes a lot more sense, because that's what it is. Also I know that Mormon's put a lot of emphasis on having families, but it was weird to have my worth reduced to the number of children I have (which is 0). It seemed at points my Mother would have been happier if I got knocked up by anybody pre-maritally than admit that I didn't have a boyfriend. It was weird. 

My last semester at BYU: honestly it's hard to remember.  I get seasonal depression pretty badly in February and it usually impacts my ability to recall stuff from winter semesters. My best friend from college moved away early in the semester with her husband, the film was pretty far along in production, and I can't remember which classes I took. Things that were memorable: fighting with my Mother over 'unrighteous dominion' aka her receiving revelation on my behalf that often had to do with what choices I should make and who to date. President Monson passing away, and President Uchtdorf being replaced in the first presidency.  The strange press conference they held that was kind of misogynistic and revealed again President Oaks' contempt for LGBT people. I remember feeling the night I read Monson had died that so had the church I grew up in. It would never be the same for me again. 

At some point in April I had decided the metaphorical dance my Mom and I were doing was stupid and it was time to come out to my parents. I had no intention of telling them that I was also going to step away from the church.  I'd learned from my sister leaving Mormonism on my mission (and the paranoiac suspicion directed at me the last couple years whenever I said anything remotely liberal) that that would be a devastating revelation on it's own. A double coming out would have probably given my Mom a heart attack. And I am not joking in the slightest. 

Because here's what did happen as recorded in my journal: 

My mom didn't sleep I think for at least the two days she was visiting. This I think contributed to her hysteria and denial which manifested itself powerfully.

• This morning She told me “I Wasn’t Born Gay” and proceeded to go through both my and her brother’s history and try and pinpoint the things that made us gay, including reticence and failed relationships
• We had a pretty big disagreement on what the word Gay actually means so I had to throw my identity fiercely on the conservative side of things just to talk her down from imagining me having oral sex with a woman on the weekends (which by the way, should be nobodies fucking business)
• We the watched conference which was fine but she of course used things later to try and convince me I was just going through a phase basically and that we would “climb this mountain together” while we actually climbed the Y
• We Had an excruciating long conversation in the car that she started about “How can you even have sex with a woman” which I was offended that she asked and wanted to throw something flippant back like 'maybe if you can’t imagine it your sex life is not that great' but I restrained myself only to be told that sex with a man was the best thing ever which despite the fact that I now know the female body can absorb testosterone from cum (thanks MOM???!??!) I don’t find it appealing STILL
• We got down to the deeps about what her issue is with Mark (my uncle who committed suicide a few years ago and who is also gay, whom she also prevented us from visiting for most of my lifetime), which was that in their interactions together he was too guilty to stay sober according to her, and said a lot of shitty things and did a lot of shitty things 
• She told me over and over again that a) How could I know maybe I haven’t met the right man yet b) She was so sad for all the things with a husband and family that I would miss out on (‘specially the sex)
• That it was the worst day ever for her
• That I could not take her back to her hotel room because I had to witness the pain that I had caused her viscerally
• That she was fine with gay people as long as they aren’t her children (to which I pointed out means I have to choose being gay or her child how is that fair)
• But closer to the end she admitted that she believed either God doesn’t put people on this earth gay or being gay is not a sin so… Progress????

I was pretty wrong about the progress hope. Not only did she pull the classic not-remembering-ever-saying-anything-mean but she surely has lost that train of thought because it causes too much cognitive dissonance. In any case, that night I was woken up in the dark murder hours of the morning by a tapping on my window and my mom hysterically calling my name. I let my parents inside to hug them (mom was crying) and then they left. No explanation. I'm still not even sure that it happened, my other two roommates weren't home to corroborate the story. 

here's more from my journal about the following day: 

"The next day was more typical of my family where we mostly ignored the elephant in the room.  If you don’t talk about things then they’re not happening and it’s okay to be civil but you can’t talk about things and also ask to pass the butter. They’re separate activities. Between the sessions on Sunday we walked up to campus and they sat down with me to talk.  My parents started by trying to convince me to come home because I didn’t have a job or a plan after college and it would be easier to save money if I was living at home. My issue was that I need to be here to work with my professors to try and get hired somewhere or I won’t get a job in animation. And also, with the following conversation of severe gas lighting became convinced that if I had to live under the same roof with my parents I would never have mental stability again probably.

Because they believe counseling turned me gay. They think because I go to a group therapy session with other gay BYU students their experiences are something I adopted mentally by association. Which is frustrating because my first group wasn’t even a queer group, and that’s where I first came out to anybody. So that’s already proven wrong.

When I asked them if they would see any of my counselors they declined because “they know me best, they know me from childhood” and that though maybe they mean well, psychologists study priestcraft and are being led away to hell by Satan. It was WILD.

They kept telling me that I wasn’t gay because they knew I wasn’t based upon watching me grow up. And they know my feelings better than I do. It was super invalidating and brain hurting. It is hard to explain.

Because it’s gas lighting. I’d figured out, Fire is hot, and they spent all their effort and debating skills to convince me that that was just shock of the moment because fire is actually cold. That’s the level of rewiring reality we’re talking about. For 24 hours thinking HURT. I felt like nothing I’d felt or thought about myself could be trusted, because I love them and I trust them, and I have to listen to them. And if I really listen to them I have to consider the points they’re raising. And some of them are manipulative and hurtful and invalidating, even though they’re saying it fervently and in their soft loving voices.

It sucked. It’s damaged my relationship with them in some ways, beyond repair. I don’t trust them anymore. I resent them some days. I hate them others. I’m not sure If I can stick around and love them like I used to. It’s not something I’m going to be able to let go easily.

And unfortunately remembering what it was like sucks too, because I had to at some point decide whether they were right, or I was right. And solely based upon my mental state of absolute chaos and pain, I decided I couldn’t follow a path of thinking that led me to feel that way and chose to trust that I’m right. And based upon their argument, I COULD STILL BE WRONG! BECAUSE I CHOSE TO PUT ASIDE THEIR ARGUMENTS CONCIOUSLY! AND IT SUCKS! It fucking sucks. It’s a box of absolute chaos that I keep in a dark place because it only makes me feel terrified and like killing myself. "

They went home and over the following weeks my parents tried continually to receive revelation on my behalf, to convince me that I shouldn't go to counseling anymore and I wasn't gay. When I pushed back against that, they became the victims, and I became the Satan following villain.  

And then I graduated. I don't really have much to say about it, it happened just three weeks after all of that during conference. My extended family was visiting, so the sweep-anything-contentious-under-the-rug rule was in full effect.  To my benefit in some ways.  Despite only expressing desire for a fund for a new computer, I got from my parents a reminder locket with a saying about following the plan of salvation (passive aggressive) and a book full of "open when..." letters that was, get this, completely blank (passive? aggressive?) . I'm still not sure what that means. 

The following weeks I decided to stay in Provo at least until my housing contract was up. My job at school ended when I graduated, and I started burning through savings. Overall last summer was pretty good, living alone was peaceful and I was very productive in terms of personal projects.  I did however:

• Have my mom fly in unannounced to stay with me in my apartment, unannounced, to fix our relationship, again, unannounced and uninvited. I only had a couple hours warning because she texted me while boarding the plane. I ended up sleeping over at a friends' house and locking her out because again, she invited herself. I'm the bad guy for that in her narrative too
• Have my mom call the cops on me to do a wellness check (a routine you're supposed to do if you suspect someone is in danger of violence, or in danger of committing suicide) for forgetting to respond to text messages for a day. I had been listening to an audio book, and the cops wouldn't leave until I called my Mom
• Have a couple joint therapy sessions with my mother that I set up and she finally agreed to, because she wouldn't leave me alone
• learn in those therapy sessions that my mother didn't believe in empathy as it is defined to share someone's feelings or experiences from their point of view rather than your own. she insisted that instead of validating that someone's feelings as being real it is better and more caring to tell them why they are wrong
• Have my mother visit when invited to help her pick up a new car she bought only to fight again, and have her tell me I use up all her money with her volvo sitting in my driveway
• Have my mother seek out therapeutic advice on my behalf without permission from a relative who's Gay and in a mixed orientation marriage, in hopes to show me that my feelings for women are just symptoms of other trauma
• Try in vain to keep a positive outlook because every two weeks my Mom would be back in force to try and fix our relationship, or try and move in together, or try and set me up with her cat sitter, or try and get me to take un-prescribed drugs for my depression

 It was exhausting.

So when it came time for my housing contract to be up and I still didn't have an income despite applying and searching all summer for something in the valley, I decided that instead of moving home I would live with my sister in Colorado, who had invited me if things didn't work out. When I told my Mother this she flipped out over the phone.  I had to hang up on her because she was being to extreme in interpreting what I said, which at this point has become the norm.

Anyway she emailed me and did the routine 'I'm sorry if I said anything rude but I don't know what it was if I did, and if you spell it out I'll pretend like it didn't happen' thing and offered her help to move to Colorado. I was grateful because I would be driving my car, and a moving truck with the accumulation of bed/collage junk I've gotten over the years. 

Everything would have been fine. Except I got in an accident that totaled my car. 

I was able to drive it the rest of the way to Colorado Springs, but it was trashed. Not only did I have to set aside my own emotions to comfort my mother immediately after pulling over, but she decided that it was a sign I was supposed to move home all along. Over the next couple of days she came to resent me and my decision more and more, telling me that I was an ungrateful daughter and a waste of her money, which I was apparently blowing out my ass like a fire-hose. Her words. 

So she went home and I began the three month effort again to find a job.  Anything at all.  Anything would be great. Something to dig myself out of the financial hole that keeps getting deeper, and the familial guilt that comes with it.

Along the way I had to take my cat to the vet because he randomly started dying (vomiting, diahrea, dehydration related spasms, lethargy), and wound up with a 700 dollar vet bill.  He bounced back after being given fluids overnight and I still don't know what happened. It seemed completely unprovoked, and because of that could happen again at any moment.

The same two days that was happening my housing over summer sent me a closing statement wherein not only were they keeping the deposit, but they were unjustly, and illegally in one charge, charging me an extra 400 dollars. It has been the cause of the most frustrating phone calls ever and is still at this point, unresolved.

A week ago I came out on Facebook, which went generally well, but what I didn't say is that my family yet again sent a talk (the one Oaks gave where he called trans and non binary people 'distortions of gender' and reaffirmed that queer people don't have a place in his church), with another call to repentance. A couple of days before that my mother had also sent a document suggesting that my same sex attraction was a symptom of bad relationships and other mental disorders and not a sexual orientation. At this point I have no relationship with my mother, so, I decided to take a break from our relationship. I sent a last email before changing my address, blocking her on social media, and changing my phone number. It's been a week and I still feel justified. I still stand by the idea that if things change between us we can have a relationship, but as they are now I can't. I can't do it anymore. 

As a result I am guessing that my mother called my brother in Michigan and cried? a lot? because he texted us in the morning saying that my Sister and I needed to apologize to Mom and make things right or that he wouldn't talk to us anymore to show his support for her. When I tried to explain the situation he told me that "newsflash he's known I'm gay for a long time and it doesn't affect his argument" which was that Mom's done nothing wrong and it's my job to fix things immediately. which also means, that since I didn't tell him I was gay my mother probably did back in April behind my back. Super cool. Building lots of trust in our family.

Then, despite all of that, I was feeling better. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  It was like I could finally breathe because I was living authentically, and without someone telling me I'm satanic every two weeks.  I got an interview for a job, and an offer. Things were looking up.

Only to find out I was victim of a hiring scam and was now cheated out of another 300 dollars. 

I just. Can't. Anymore. I try not to subscribe to the Mormon idea that good things happen to good people but sometimes I wonder what. did. I. do? What did I do wrong? I accept I'm not a perfect person but I try really hard to be kind and to trust and enforce healthy boundaries in relationships so pardon my language but what the fuck? 

So yeah. I wish I could sleep all the time.  I wish I could go to sleep, and not wake up. ever. I've just accepted at this point that good things don't happen to me. In fact, during the short period two days ago I thought I had a job I told someone good things don't happen to me. And I was right. The last few years have made me so cynical it's hard to start over. Again. And again. I would rather if I didn't have to, if this time it could be the last lashing from life, if this time I could quit. I want to quit. I want out. 

I wish there were a "and so this is what I learned" happy ending but I'm finding that sometimes there isn't one. Sometimes you're made to choose between yourself and your family. Sometimes really shitty people take advantage of how much you want a job. And that's it.