A Weak Man

I don’t think he was a weak man, really. I mean, yeah, he was sensitive sometimes, but he was also into extreme sports: motocross, skateboarding, anything with wheels, you know. Maybe he was a little depressed from time to time, but that’s pretty normal, isn’t it? I think it was a little harsh of her to say he was wallowing in it. I personally, would never say depression was a “luxury,” but I guess that’s just how she saw things. Like everybody else, she had her own ideas. Maybe that’s a woman’s prerogative.

But I still thought she crossed a line sometimes. I’m just saying it seemed pretty mean to me, and you’re entitled to your own opinion, but I thought it was cruel to say she was disgusted when he broke down. I mean, they were children for God’s sake. He comforted the mother, he comforted the father, and he did his best to look after the family. He gave the eulogy—imagine giving a eulogy for children!—and everyone said it was really nice and how he was a good writer and everything, and that takes a toll, doesn’t it, and maybe everyone should get a moment to sort of lose it?

But I guess some people don’t think so. Some people think it’s different for men. This therapist told me it’s harder for men to access their tears, right? They grieve differently. I guess in order to not disgust anyone, they grieve differently. They grieve alone. And that’s what he did. He just cried his eyes out with no arms around his shoulders. No one handed him a tissue. He cried in the car in the driveway late at night. He cried in the shower. He would drive to the middle of nowhere and cry through the blackest nights. No one saw him access his tears. The counsellor never saw him access his tears and went on believing that men can’t access their feelings.

So again, I wouldn’t call that weakness, but I guess a lot of people do. And I guess he sort of believed it, too, and he changed little by little. He just got used to being alone, you know. He enjoyed the outdoors and spent many hours camping. Everyone was excited when he finally showed an interest in something. They were happy when he started talking about hunting and bought a gun.

The Treachery of Unspecified Cancers (#fiction)

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He was fun. He was a lot of fun. That’s what everyone said. He was funny and jovial and he just loved to be around people, and people loved to be around him. I swear he could make a joke out of just about anything. And he was cute, so he collected plenty of phone numbers, if you know what I mean.

It’s just that right when everyone would be getting into things and really enjoying themselves, Mike would call. And when Mike called, he always went to him, because Mike was experiencing hellish pain from cancer and needed help and support. That’s what he told us. Mike had horrible pain because he was dying from cancer of the leg.

Now, I’m not saying Mike wasn’t sick or anything like that, but I always thought cancer of the leg sounded a bit generic. I mean, I think Bob Marley’s cancer started with a melanoma on his toe, but I never heard anyone call it cancer of the toe. That would sound weird to me.

I guess people do what they have to do, and Mike didn’t leave the house much. He just kept to himself, taking medicines and things, and just trying to get through each day, hour after hellish hour. He didn’t seem to want visitors, as no one I knew was ever invited over to their place. Because I didn’t see him much, I never gave him much thought. I felt a little sorry for him, of course, and I was glad he had someone to take care of him. But I didn’t really know him—there was no connection to him, see?

So that’s why I didn’t think of inviting Mike when we decided to go to the movies. I didn’t think Mike would be interested in going out late, hobbling around town, and getting home in the wee hours.

To be honest, that’s a lie. I simply didn’t think of Mike at all when we made our plans. But I was surprised when Mike was outside the theater when we showed up. And I was surprised when Mike got a ticket and went inside with us. I was relieved, of course!, to see that he walked with no signs of pain or a limp or anything, and he seemed to be handling the cancer treatments quite well. Really, he seemed strong and healthy. I think he could have taken me in a fight, if it came to that.

And I kind of got the feeling Mike wanted me to know that.

Superposition of Marital States of Bliss and Misfortune (#poem)

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There’s always that stage
Where you’re both in
And you’re out, you know?

You never thought you’d
Be caught in the trap of
“I owe it to the children.”

You didn’t think you’d
Ever cringe just because you
heard the creak of a door.

When the lid is lifted on
Your Schrodinger’s Cat
Marriage, you hope for death.

And maybe it is a quantum
Problem of superposition of states,
With each profoundly undesirable.

Maybe a cold observation and
Measurement can settle the
Confusion once and for all.

So it’s the doctor who peers
Inside and runs the numbers,
Calculating possible futures.

With all that’s going on,
You don’t expect the prognosis.
You aren’t really ready, but

His eyes tell all as he says,
“If this emotional blackmail
Continues, it will kill you.”

Exit Strategy (#poem)

“… come out of the wardrobe, cross the line of the rainbow and be who you want to be!” Dona Onete

After encouraging him to explore his “other side,”

She said, “If you leave me, I will tell about this,

And you will never see your children again.”keeping promises.jpg

And so it began—a desperate life locked

In a wardrobe guarded by a severe overseer.

Each tentative act of self-expression

Quashed in a confused melee of frustration.

He lived an inauthentic life of duplicity under duress,

With progeny held for ransom in

An unending act of passive aggression.

He lives behind a mask—

A promise keeper and provider—

As a pillar of the community,

A propagator of traditional value.

A leader is born in shame,

As he passes judgment on

His fellow sinners and wanderers,

He builds influence and takes on followers

Until his identity cracks,

And the anti-depressants fail

Along with his attempted suicide.

From hospital, he reads the headlines.

Everyone knows his name.

His warden and manipulator is now moot,

So he lifts himself off the pillow

And squares his shoulders

Before facing the inevitable question:

“If you were so miserable,

Why didn’t you leave?”

The Social Dimensions of Gaslighting

In the last few years, it seems the term “gas lighting” has become nearly ubiquitous. The term was first used in the 1950s to mean some kind of emotional manipulation, but more specifically to mean making someone doubt his or her own sanity by repeatedly presenting a false narrative about events within the relationship. At least one person, (you can see Alfred MacDonald’s blog here), claims that gaslighting actually requires someone to tell an outright lie in order to convince someone their memory or perception is faulty. Others believe the manipulation can be more subtle, and still others use the term so loosely that almost everyone is guilty of gaslighting (e.g., telling someone they are over-reacting to a minor event or episode).

I don’t think anyone has provided strict diagnostic criteria for gaslighting, and I won’t try, but I think we can agree that it does involve manipulating someone to question whether abuse-800pxtheir perceptions are accurate. It is a form of abuse and a means of exercising control. When one person complains of some behavior, the other partner may question it by saying, “I think you’ve been working too much—that never happened.” Or they may say, “Did you remember your meds this morning?” Or they may say, with an air of concern, “Honey, that didn’t happen. Do you think it is time to see a psychiatrist or something?”

This type of manipulation can be extremely subtle. We all over-react sometimes, and who can claim to have a perfect memory? With any given instance, we may doubt our memory or perception. When you start carrying around a voice recorder or considering keeping security cameras in your home just to verify your account of things, though, you are either a victim of gaslighting or you really are suffering from some severe psychosis. If you are psychotic, you are probably having more than relationship problems, so if you do all right around other people, you probably live with an abusive partner.

If you are lucky, your friends, family, and coworkers can help assure you that your memory and grip on reality are firm; unless, of course, your abuser has gotten to them first. In early stages, her or his campaign against you may appear to be genuine concern. He or she may tell close friends, “I’m worried about my husband. He never seems happy anymore.” Or, the abuser may become more assertive: “I can’t get him to go to a doctor. If you see him, maybe you can find out why he is so reluctant.” By making such comments, the abuser raises suspicion that you are not in your right mind, and you may also begin to doubt whether you are in your right mind.”

As things progress, the abuser may begin to portray herself or himself as the victim, saying things like, “She keeps track of everything I do,” or “She controls all the finances. I don’t even know how much money is in the bank.”

A blog on AngieMedia (attributed only to Rob) describes how far abusers sometimes go: “An abuser who is using gaslighting on you is also likely to behave similarly with others to make them dislike you. This is a common attack used during what can become tremendously damaging distortion campaigns that these abusers will use against people close to them to maintain control and a sense of superiority. Such abusers may report you to police to get you falsely arrested and perhaps prosecuted for absolutely no reason other than they want to be in control of you and how others perceive you. They are likely to make remarks to their friends, family, neighbors, and others to “prove” they are being abused, often behind your back for years until you learn what they have been doing. “

The abuser may then come back to you and say, perhaps accurately, “All my friends think you are a bully.” Or, “Your Mom thinks you need to see a psychiatrist.” Living in an intentionally distorted reality, it becomes impossible to verify or even corroborate claims about your mental state, others opinions of you, or what has been said about you. Your alleged mental breakdown may, indeed, be imminent. Under the stress of this type of relationship, you are likely to doubt yourself, question the loyalty of your friends and family, and withdraw from all social contact. Once you are isolated, you are under the control of your abuser. You will no longer have access to the solid moorings of reality, and will drift in a cloud of confusion as you become more depressed, anxious, and desperate.

If you are doubting yourself, it helps to hear of the experiences of others. If you have survived this type of abuse, please help others by sharing your story. For example, I suspect Princess Diana helped many people when she described her marriage in her famous BBC Panarama interview:

DIANA: Well, people were – when I say people I mean friends, on my husband’s side – were indicating that I was again unstable, sick, and should be put in a home of some sort in order to get better. I was almost an embarrassment.
BASHIR: Do you think he really thought that?
DIANA: Well, there’s no better way to dismantle a personality than to isolate it.
BASHIR: So you were isolated?
DIANA: Uh,uh, very much so.

This is how people become trapped in toxic and destructive relationships. The only way out, really, is to find others who can verify your sanity and help you see the campaign against you for what it is. This is why it is important for survivors to speak up about their experiences. When people speak about what happened to them, victims who feel trapped may recognize the techniques of the gaslighter, and may gain some strength.

Finally, when you encounter others who seem unhappy in a relationship who may feel trapped, try to remember they may be victims of a gaslighting campaign. Things may not be as they seem. Your patience and understanding may save a life.