House Rules: The “He Said” Part of He Said, She Said
Yesterday and today have been Days of Boggling.
Someone mentioned House Rules, Rachel Sontag’s memoir about growing up under a control-freak father. Someone else mentioned that the father struck back at Rachel for publishing the book. Why yes… yes, he did. An entire website filled with family videos and letters to and from Rachel, showing how she changed from a “happy, loving, affectionate, caring, appreciative member of the family” to a raging demon whose goal was to sow conflict and break up her parents’ marriage. Her father demonstrates, using her own words, that her behavior was out of line. For example, an apology she wrote at 16 after blowing up because her parents refused to let her take a trip:
After discovering that I would not be able to go to Toronto, I was disappointed and frustrated. I acted distant from towards both parents in order to express my frustration. Marisa arrived in Chicago and mom and I picked her up at O’hare. More freedom was given to me following Marisa’s arrival. I took advantage of it as my behavior became worse. For no apparent reason I called Both parents “fucking losers” in public. Because of this dad and mom decided it was time to talk with me. Marisa and Jenny [Rachel’s sister] left the house. Because of my actions mom and dad explained how they felt about me and where I stood in their lives. I understand the shame and embarrassment that they feel towards me as a member of the family. I can now understand why they feel no respect for me as an individual. I was told that I was a liar, traitor, phony, spoiled, rotten, selfish brat. Dad explained to me that I was scum and inquired how it felt to wake up knowing that I was the scum of the earth. I explained that the reason I called them “fucking losers” was because I was disgusted with myself as a person. This is known as projection. Marisa and Jenny came home. I explained how I felt about myself to Marisa and apologized. The next night Marisa and I planned to go out for ice cream with Nathalie. She came over and I apologized to her and explained how I felt about myself. Mom gave me directions, to get to Joan’s house, to return jewelry that I had borrowed. I was distracted and although I had the jewels in my purse, I forgot to go to Joan’s. I went to Baskin Robins with Nat and Marisa. Meanwhile Joan waited for me to stop by. At 10:30 Nat went home. She dropped us off at Baskin Robins. I assumed that I could get a ride from Matt Kaplan. I was unable to because he had a two person car. Marisa and I came home 15 minutes late. We lied and said that we got a ride home from Matt when infact we walked. Due to deception and my cruel attitude Marisa was sent home early, Ellen and I drove her to O’hare. Following her departure I changed my attitude and helped out around the house. Friday Mrs. Howard called me. We had a nice talk of which I will not go into detail. Naturally we all respect each others privacy. I sure learned a lot this week.
The father posts this apology in full on the “Rachels Apologies” page, and edited on the “Selling the Book” page, which acts as a front page for the website. The father helpfully circled a couple of quotes demonstrating how unreasonable and self-hating Rachel was, but removed the sentences, “I was told that I was a liar, traitor, phony, spoiled, rotten, selfish brat. Dad explained to me that I was scum and inquired how it felt to wake up knowing that I was the scum of the earth.” I can’t imagine why.
But then, it’s useful to know where the father draws the line. He left these sentences in:
I understand the shame and embarrassment that they feel towards me as a member of the family. I can now understand why they feel no respect for me as an individual.
And that’s why I’ve been boggling for the past two days.
The entire site deserves a slow, detailed peeling apart. I probably won’t be able to do it. There’s only so much I can stomach. But it’s there for those of you who want to try.
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The dad’s website really is something else. If he thinks it proves that he’s innocent then he’s very much mistaken.
Under ‘No Regrets. To Rachel from Mom and Dad’ it states:
‘We want you to know that despite what you did or tried to do, despite the exaggerations and despite the fabrications, WE ARE NOT ANGRY. We understand that your actions are those of one who is unhappy, frustrated, desperate and filled with anger.’
All of this could be used to describe the father, and not Rachel. And if the website itself isn’t an example of ‘angry’, I don’t know what is.
Some of what’s written is also completely bizarre.
Under ‘Making Good From Bad’ it states:
‘Dear Visitor. Thank you for suffering through this site with no guarantee that you would emerge the same person.’
I mean, WTF. It’s the parents that have caused the suffering, and most people who do feel distressed or ‘suffer’ when reading this website will do so because they genuinely feel for Rachel. They certainly won’t be suffering because they think that the parents have been hurt by Rachel.
‘We want you to know that despite what you did or tried to do, despite the exaggerations and despite the fabrications, WE ARE NOT ANGRY. We understand that your actions are those of one who is unhappy, frustrated, desperate and filled with anger.’
This could have come from my mother’s mouth with the addition of: “I love you unconditionally. No matter what you did (i.e., stand your ground and refuse to take abuse from me). Here is a catalog of all of the horrible things you are and did that I love you in spite of.” She is also obsessed with this idea that I “carry a secret pain” that makes me do what I do. What that pain is changes, but currently I believe it’s that my husband is controlling me (although my husband is one of the meekest men ever). It’s just another way that she can deny me agency while still blaming me for her unhappiness.
This kind of stuff is crazy. If my daughter were ever to publicly accuse me of stuff like this and it had no foundation, I would simply say “it has no foundation.” This compulsion to respond to every detail with evidence from her childhood just seems bizarre to me, especially if they really believe that the accusations come from a place of hurt.
Plus the melodramatic assumption that reading about horrible, horrible Rachel’s horrible, horrible behavior will be a LIFE-CHANGING TRAUMA o woe.
So much of it is utterly bizarre. The letters he quotes as proof of Rachel’s deep love and gratitude, many of which are about as personal as a thank-you note; the videos he posts as proof that Rachel was happy for a few minutes in front of a camera, therefore her childhood was awesome; his eternal recounting of all the trips he sent her on. His belief that people tried to destroy him because they were jealous of his and his wife’s blissful marriage. The way he thinks the things he posted make him look good.
I almost don’t want to read the book because reading the website without context makes the game of spot-the-red-flags that much better.
The book’s amazon reviews and comments are interesting in a sad, bad way.
In one review, a person who has known the author for many years: attests to her courage and honesty, salutes her for prevailing, and says she will “always have unconditional love in our family”. The dad then comments twice, once to promote his website and the other to say “Pathetic, STEVELLEN!”
There’s another review that takes issue with the dad’s being disrespectful to the dead, praises the aunt who helped Rachel and sends love from ‘people who have been lucky to know you your whole life.
After looking at and skimming that website, I thought a book review would make me feel better. Much relief found at the Hairpin, ‘not a great way to refute your daughter’s suggestion that you’re a controlling Crazy McCrazypants with a Stockholm-y wife’.
Wait. What is the mysterious box on the “Selling the Book” page? What creepy weirdness is that? I’m not sure I need to see more, but I’m not sure I can stop looking.
Sweet merciful Cthulhu…
Skimming it, I realize that I can’t read the thing in any sort of detail because wow, but it seems very much in the line of the letters Polenicus dissects excepting with the theatricality turned up to 11.
Regards that theatricality, I don’t just mean that skippy here is intentionally performing for an audience in this case, but also that it seems like there’s this underlying… movie-like-ness?… to the pacing and expected responses. Like — the estranged parent presents some tidbit from their victim’s childhood, and it’s framed as if the hard-hearted person might see this object and then the music swells and they remember that time of skipping through the grass in magic hour lighting, and they clutch the ratty old school paper to their heart and ALL IS FORGIVEN sort of deal. (Similar like with the notion that third parties might read it and LIFE CHANGED FOREVER.) And while not to necessarily exclude what sort of experiences people might have, that seems like the sort of thing that is more commonly experienced as a metaphor to communicate a concept visually than it is as an actual literal life experience.
It seems in a sense like a person who does not connect well with other people is assembling a model from media experiences — sort of like how some pickup artist literature looks like a RPG walkthrough.
I think this is exactly right. For me it was a series of portraits — Rachel happy, Rachel laughing, Rachel and her family doing x,y, and z like a normal perfect happy family. My theory is that there’s no depth to the memories. There’s no insight into the real identity of the family members or into their thoughts and emotions. It’s all “portrait of happy family” like you would find in the frame at the store.
My mother has tales of me and my growing up years that in no way resemble reality. The first time she told these stories to my husband (all negative toward me of course — promiscuous and wild), he came back to me and said, “I didn’t know what to think because it didn’t even sound like you.” That’s because it wasn’t me. It was my mother’s memory movie version of me, which was full of scandal and drama (I was boring — introverted, studious, religious, and a total rule-follower). This feels very similar to that. His memory movie is of his perfect fantasy family and how “normal” it was. Of course, this is also at odds with his memory movie of how wild she was. But he’s not angry because something made her do it (she can’t have agency but still needs to be at fault). All of this is, of course, speculation colored by my own history and introspection.
When I started to read snippets from the dad’s site I was immediately reminded of some family members (a married couple), and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Then I read this from your comment:
“It seems in a sense like a person who does not connect well with other people is assembling a model from media experiences.”
HO-LY SHITE. This perfectly describes the behavior of the male in the couple I know. Like, so incredibly fake and trying to put forth a perfect persona to the point of reaching the Uncanny Valley. I have been struggling to describe these people and what rubs me the wrong way about them for YEARS, and this is exactly it. I wonder if there is a name for these types of people — is this part of the Autism spectrum? (Absolutely no offense intended to any non-neurotypical people reading.) If I could put a name to it, I might be able to research the behavior more and learn some coping mechanisms for when I have to spend time with these two.
IME, when people on the spectrum get social cues wrong they come off as awkward or trying too hard, not as plastic. (YMMV.) But check this out and see whether it sounds familiar: http://www.halcyon.com/jmashmun/npd/howto.html
If you read ‘A Higher Source’ where daddy describes his trek around around the globe, that also has a fantasy, theatrical or dream-like quality to it. It could even be described as whimsical. The whole thing actually reminded me of a Classical Greek epic that is filled with mythology and fantastical creatures, and where daddy plays the heroic protagonist.
At one point, he mentions ‘a young boy holding his guts since his bull 2 days earlier had ripped open his abdomen’. He doesn’t talk about it as if he’s distressed by what’s happened to this boy or even remotely concerned about it. This boy with his abdomen ripped open is just another wondrous yet fleeting marvel that he’s seen along the path of his fantastical journey. In fact, he seems to be so completely divorced from reality and engrossed in his own journey, that the suffering of the boy is irrelevant.
As Magpie says, ‘My theory is that there’s no depth to the memories. There’s no insight…’
Towards the end of the story daddy states in a highly theatrical way:
‘Man needs a higher Source for instructions on how to live. Without that Source, man himself decides what is right and what is wrong, what is good and what is evil. Without that Source, man will be lost and chaos will reign. And without that Source, the oceans will fill with blood. Those who survive may live to envy the dead.’
You get the impression that even though he believes that God is his higher source, he expects Rachel to view him as her higher source. And if Rachel doesn’t agree to this, then what next? The oceans fill with blood and death and mass destruction ensues? And if this man isn’t allowed to completely control his daughter and force her to adhere to his instruction then ‘Here comes chaos and Armageddon!’
I have to say, daddy clearly likes to control, guilt-trip and portray himself as the selfless hero. He might as well just say ‘I am here to save the world, Rachel Sontag. I’m doing everything for you and all of mankind. You will do exactly as I say. If you don’t, then the end of the world is nigh. And it will be all your fault and no-one else’s!’
I also think we are supposed to feel sympathy for daddy because of some of the terrible things he saw on his trek, and marvel at his courage and strength.
Forget those who were actually hurt. They don’t matter. After all, his seeing or hearing about those things must have been much worse than actually experiencing them.
Atrocity tourism: Not something to brag about, actually.
Daddy implies that he hung out with the Soviet, Egyptian, Ethiopian, Kenyan, and Congo military, the Eritrean liberation Front, the Palestinian Liberation Organization, Zambian militias, and Guatemalan guerrillas, as well as spending time in war zones in Bangladesh/Pakistan/India.
I’ve met actual war correspondents who brag less than he does.
Smells like Mall Ninja.
The entire page has no place on the site. It has nothing to do with Rachel at all. It’s just a spot for daddy to wank about how awesomely deep and well traveled he is, and to invite us to wonder at his wonderfulness. His self-image is based on whether others see him as weird because he’s too brilliant, too informed and experienced, to fit into mere mortal life, and Rachel’s book tarnished that mirror. (Note that his self-image isn’t based on BEING those things, but on BEING SEEN AS those things. Narcissists don’t care about reality, they only care about what other people reflect back at them.) He has to do something to repolish it.
This is really upsetting stuff. This man is malevolent. The hostility toward his own child is heartbreaking. I see this attitude a lot on the estranged parents forum – the anger, the need to win, the need to crush the opinions of their child who dares to criticize them. The relationship itself means nothing, the emotional health of their child is not even worth considering – as long as they come out on top.
So what’s up with the spouses/partners who stay with people like this & watch their own children get crushed before their eyes? In many ways, they’re as pathological as the front-line abuser.
It’s a three-part process:
1. Being raised with abuse trains you to seek out and tolerate abusers.
2. Living with an abuser traps you in a sick system, so all your energy is focused on surviving the now.
3. When you’re focused on survival, you sacrifice what you must to keep going.
At some point, learned helplessness sets in and you stop struggling. Then you absorb your abuser’s traits, amplifying your own worst traits along the way. It’s something you can see over and over in older people who are married to abusers–they used to push back, but now they’re so focused on the abuser that they’ve forgotten that they ever objected. I don’t want to talk right now about the times I’ve seen it happen to people around me, but one of the forum members is in his 70’s, married to one of the most disturbed women I’ve come across, and he’s landed in the hospital at least once because his wife insists on making her own diagnoses and treating him with woo. He could have everything he wants, including a relationship with his kids, if he sent her packing, but he’s bound himself to her.
“If you are furious because your repeated bogus suicide threats – which you thought would bring you victory – ultimately failed to destroy the home and split your parents, examine closely your values!”
o.0
O_O
Sorry, I’m speechless, too. This – a direct quote, right? Holy shit.
On one hand, people can and do use suicide threats as manipulation. On the other hand, fuck you, Stephen.
Well at least he’s made it clear the book is 100% true. Somehow I don’t think that’s the result he was aiming for.
Still can’t get over him posting the apology letters like they mean something… So obviously full of misery and written under duress but psycho dad can’t see that in the way he can’t actually see his own daughter I guess! Just no self-awareness only his distorted narcissistic view of the world he can’t even consider that it’s not objective.
Seriously if it weren’t for the videos I’d think this was either a spoof or a malicious attempt to frame the parents by someone else. I can’t work out how there is nobody in the parents’ life who has got them to take it down – they come off *so terribly*.
‘Disobedience meant humiliating punishments?
Rachel, what do you mean humiliating?
We once brought home two dozen boxes so that you would be free to carry out your threats to move out of the house.
We thought you would be happy – especially with the tough, sturdy new cardboard boxes that would repel rain.
But no. Instead of being appreciative of the strong handsome boxes, you just gave us one of your looks and returned to your room. That’s no way to treat people bearing gifts. It took a lot of work on our part to find those nice boxes and to put them all outside your room. We even offered to help you move.
After our thoughtful gifts, we never heard any more threats to move out. But that certainly is not humiliating. Is it?’
JESUS H CHRIST. I am trying to work out what goes through the mind of someone who thinks this is convincing evidence of not-fucked parenting, and I am struggling. All I can think was that maybe by the time this page was created they were just in the swing of being angry and were forgetting to try and be persuasive at the same time.
Anyone?
As messed-up as this situation is, already, I won’t pronounce judgement on the past – I lack context.
However, his smug attitude and his clear desire to humiliate her through this story shine though.
Stethic, is this a direct quote? Because it almost looks like a parody of toxic family thinking.
Everything before the words ‘Jesus H Christ’ is a direct quote from the page Rachel’s Apologies.
Thank you. This is… something.
Wow. This is … it’s something. “I didn’t humiliate you … and now, let me mock you, by talking with gleeful sarcasm and spite about the ‘handsome’ boxes I bought to throw you out of the house.” I mean, that comes IMMEDIATELY after.
My best guess is that this is supposed to mean something like “Yeah, I did humiliate you–because you DESERVED it (or humiliated me first, or something).” Or maybe the cognitive dissonance really is that strong. Could be.
How old was the daughter when the “gift” of the boxes brought home, do you know?
You said what I was trying to say, but better.
Oh, I don’t think I said it better, but it’s kind of you to say so. Really, I’m just kind of one-part riffing on what everyone else is saying and one-part goggling at it all.
It’s a great example of calling someone’s bluff, though Rachel’s backing down looks rather different if you assume she knew her father never had any intention of letting her move out. The weird part, though–the revealing part–is that normally, a parent who called their kid’s bluff wouldn’t have humiliating their kid uppermost in their mind. But it’s the event that Rachel’s father’s mind jumps to when he hears the word “humiliating.” He even tells the story in a way that grinds in its humiliating aspects, while so strongly over-implying that he was only trying to be helpful that he can’t come across as anything but sarcastic and mocking.
He may also be implying that Rachel humiliated him by refusing the boxes. Self-martyring much?
For me, the way he’s telling the story, so many years later, is the worst part. I could empathize with (but not, of course, excuse) with overreacting in the moment, in a lot of cases. I’ve done and said some screwed-up stuff in my life. But to be so full of rage and malicious spite, all these years later … it’s chilling.
So I’ve read Rachael’s book, or rather, had almost finished it.
Holy shit. Ho-lee-sheet.
If anything, she’s merciful to her parents in the book.
Will probably comment more when I’m not as stupefied.
I have a copy on hold at the library – will pick it up today. I’m guessing I won’t be able to put it down once I start.
It’s quite a read. And it puts the selected quotes from the site in perspective.
Spoilers for the book ahead.
“Suicide threats” become Rachael asking to be taken to a mental hospital just to get a respite from her father, who made her feel like killing herself. Her father called her an actress for that and accused her of manipulating his mother. Her mother made to drive her, but stopped the care to physically assault her.
“Threats to move out” become Rachael being taken away by a social worker and spending time in a group home. Nota bene: taken away for psychological abuse. Cynical as it may sound, how bad did psychological abuse have to be for others to believe her?
Just started reading the book an hour ago. The father’s site reads like a parody of Rachel’s depiction of him–like he’s so blind to the offness of his behavior that not only does he repeat the behaviors Rachel used to paint him as a monster, he doubles down on them.
Annnnd I just got to the part where Rachel incorporates lines from the letter quoted above. Different context, but the words and phrases are all there. If Steven wanted to prove Rachel was making it up, maybe he shouldn’t have publicly validated the letter she got the “lies” from.
Cynical as it may sound, how bad did psychological abuse have to be for others to believe her?
The authorities probably wouldn’t have believed her on her own, at least not enough to take action. Both times, her father primed the pump, first with his “concerned calls” to her school counselor and then with his packet of apology letters to the Page Program.
His take on the Page Program is… interesting. His version:
To obtain a second semester at the Washington, D.C. Page School (one semester only is the policy) despite her terrible grades during the first semester, Rachel used our disciplinary actions for the intentional disappearing act on the cruise to convince her teachers of the terror awaiting her back home.
Her version:
Over my winter break Dad took us on a Caribbean cruise. On the last night of the cruise, I forgot my room key and slept on a sofa in the lounge. Dad was furious that I’d stayed out all night, which made for a memorable three-day drive from Miami to Chicago. As part of my punishment, I was not allowed to sleep. Dad kept a close eye on me and every time I drifted off he’d pull over the car and repeat my name louder and louder until I woke up. But the real punishment came after I returned to D.C., when I was called out of class and into the school counselor’s office.
Dad had sent the principal of the Page Program an envelope stuffed with apology letters I’d written him over the years. The principal had turned the letters over to Pat Caulfield, the school counselor.
…Who immediately started inventing escape strategies for Rachel, and pulled strings to keep her in the program for an extra semester.
“Intentional disappearing act” vs. “I forgot my room key and slept on a sofa in the lounge.” “Our disciplinary actions” vs. “As part of my punishment, I was not allowed to sleep.” Rachel convinced her teachers vs. her father convinced the teachers all on his lonesome.
For the first two points, we have only his story against hers–his vague, hyperbolic story vs. her detailed, understated story. But that’s not proof, not really. It points toward a trend, and the trend points toward a whole raft of unsavory correlations, but it doesn’t clinch the case.
What does clinch the case is the third point. We have her claim that he sent her teachers a packet of her apology letters to make her look bad, and the contents of the packet horrified them. We have him posting two apology letters online in the present to make her look bad, and the contents of the letters horrify us. Once again, he makes her case even better than she could make it for herself.
You nailed it.
Abusers, or narcissists, however you call that, are usually better at presenting a superficially perfect front. This guy, however, apparently makes such an impression on everyone involved that they immediately cacth on that something is very wrong.
Under ‘Setting Things Right’ – photo at the bottom of the page.
‘The Sontag family has long maintained that they settled in America in 1292 – a good 200 years before Christopher Columbus landed in Hispaniola with the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria.
The Sontag family’s claim is supported by this recently discovered photograph (circa 1298) showing the group’s whereabouts in central Kentucky as they fled the Inquisition in Europe.’
Of course it’s a 13th century photograph, Stephen Sontag, because it’s not like we haven’t noticed that the family is wearing 19th century style clothing, that the man in the photo has a 19th century weapon, or that photography wasn’t invented and introduced until the 19th century.
I actually had to read what Stephen had written a number of times, in order to convince myself he’d written it. Let’s face it, as far as departures from reality go, this is a biggie. And even if ‘circa 1298’ is a typo, it still doesn’t prove that the Sontag’s settled in America before Columbus. Yet another fanciful claim I think!
It’s his painfully bad idea of a joke. He has no idea how misplaced it is on THAT site, or how poorly he carries off the “merry joker” persona.
My friend has a husband with a similar sense of humor. Part of the “humor” is in ridiculing people who don’t know much about history and take the claims seriously. Yes, she is married to a jerk.
I just don’t see the point of this joke or what’s funny about it. The photo obviously can’t be 13th century which is why I thought it might be a typo. And I didn’t know if he was joking because he’s made some other bizarre claims which he seems to believe, and the joke just seems to be so out of place.
What was the point of this joke at all? It just makes him seem completely crazy. And if he’s doing it to ridicule those who might believe that the photo is from the 13th century, then that’s just cruel and nasty.
I really don’t like this man!
It’s similar to the “mystery box” joke that I found totally WTF. I think the box is supposed to be full of burkas and signs of his alleged authoritarianism. It’s humor based on mockery and humiliation of other people. It seems pretty common with people that feel superior to others (or want to, I guess). My friend’s husband and my ex both employed it so I’m pretty familiar with it. It’s really only funny to the person making the “joke.” The person that is on the receiving end is meant to feel stupid.
Oh, and you’re meant to feel stupid for not getting it or finding it funny too. It’s not really meant to be funny though. It’s meant to cut other people down with the ability to say “Oh, you just don’t have a sense of humor,” or “Oh, your sense of humor just isn’t as sophisticated as mine is,” or “You’re just too sensitive.”
Thanks Magpie, that really helps. Despite having a mother who has possible NPD/BPD, I really am confounded by this man’s sense of humour.
Further on up this thread Issendai has posted a link to a site called ‘How to recognize a narcissist’. On this site there’s an additional link to ‘Narcissists have little sense of humor’, and this has helped too.
It states:
‘Narcissists have little sense of humor. They don’t get jokes, not even the funny papers or simple riddles, and they don’t make jokes, except for sarcastic cracks and the lamest puns. This is because, lacking empathy, they don’t get the context and affect of words or actions, and jokes, humor, comedy depend entirely on context and affect. They specialize in sarcasm about others and mistake it for wit, but, in my experience, narcissists are entirely incapable of irony — thus, I’ve been chagrinned more than once to discover that something I’d taken as an intentional pose or humorous put-on was, in fact, something the narcissist was totally serious about. Which is to say that they come mighty close to parody in their pretensions and pretending, so that they can be very funny without knowing it, but you’d better not let on that you think so. [Interestingly, this is the only trait on this list about which there seems to be any controversy. Maybe I’ve just been unlucky! I’ve known narcissists who’ll make fun of others, repeat jokes they’ve heard others laugh at, and laugh at jokes when others laugh, but knowing how to make people laugh is not necessarily the same as having a sense of humor].’
“They specialize in sarcasm about others and mistake it for wit, but, in my experience, narcissists are entirely incapable of irony — thus, I’ve been chagrinned more than once to discover that something I’d taken as an intentional pose or humorous put-on was, in fact, something the narcissist was totally serious about.”
This was my mother, for sure. I used to think she had a dry sense of humor but then my husband pointed out that she wasn’t joking. And then I started to see how she punished us later for thinking what she said was funny. They really weren’t jokes and it came back to bite us if we didn’t take what she said seriously, even if she said it in a way that came across as lighthearted.
I have a tendency to assume the goodwill of other people so I have often gotten burned by these jokes. I like to think I can see through them better now, but I may be wrong. It’s a lot easier to see it and recognize it in writing and from a stranger, than it is when you have a relationship with that person, I think because you expect that person to have your interests in mind, or at least not an affirmative desire to harm you. Which is why lurking the parent forums is helpful to me, BTW. I think it’s really improved my pattern recognition and immunity to these things.
As Issendai commented in another thread, those of us with a certain upbringing tend to repeat that upbringing in our relationships. I basically married my mother, who was essentially this guy. Right now I’m coming to terms with that as it relates to our child (and someday I might respond to the relevant comment on that thread — but it’s kind of a painful point right now). It took me far too long to take action, but I finally did and I don’t regret it (although now I get to deal with this guy pissed off). However, I do understand the nuances and how people can fall for thinking this really is meant to be funny and that they’re the one wrong/stupid/uneducated for not getting it.
I think out of all the stories, this one hits me the most, perhaps because of where I am at right now with regard to my child.
It reminds me of an ex-boyfriend of mine.
I was just starting to get into video games and other geeky stuff when I met him (my parents were super conservative, and as much as I was a geek growing up, I didn’t have access to many video games, comics, or movies)
He would tell me crazy things that were comic book storylines, or hidden easter eggs in games I was playing, and if I came back later and said, “hey, it didn’t really happen like that” or “I can’t find that easter egg” He would loudly laugh at me, especially if I mentioned it in front of our friends.
See the joke was, I, a person who was dating him, believed what he said. Hilarious!
Bonus: “You’re not a real geek, like me and my friends are” on top.
Yes, this is another good illustration of this kind of humor. Exploiting the vulnerability of someone that trusts you is a real knee-slapper, isn’t it?
Sounds like a jerk. I’m glad he’s an ex.
My mother had an incredibly twisted sense of humour, and her ‘jokes’ were anything but a joke, and often involved humiliation and setting me up. However, I am still astounded by what Stephen Sontag views as a joke. Maybe it’s because his jokes are so out of place, but then again, so were my mother’s. And on the one hand, I’ve not been in contact with my family for many years and have become much better at recognizing abusive or inappropriate behaviour, but on the other hand, maybe there are some things I still don’t pick up on.
Here’s an example of one of my mother’s ‘jokes’.
Growing up, both of my parents were abusive, but it was my mother who mainly abused me. My parents also had an abusive marriage, but this wasn’t a one-sided thing and they abused one another, and on another post, I have mentioned that firearms were involved.
When I was about 12, I attempted suicide, desperate to get away from my family. This happened after I tried to tell a teacher at school about the abuse, but it was dismissed as childish nonsense. Also, there were others who knew about the abuse, such as family and neighbours, but they did nothing.
After being taken to hospital, despite my age, I was placed on an adult ward. The hospital staff treated me very badly, viewing me as a troublemaker, attention seeker and time waster. When my parents finally arrived on the ward, a doctor came in to speak to me, and asked my parents to wait outside my room. However, he left the door open so that they could hear everything, and when he asked me why I had attempted suicide, I just kept saying that I didn’t know why because if I told the truth I was terrified of what my mother might to do me. My parents were then allowed to ‘drag’ me home. I was still too ill to stand up by myself, and so my parents held me upright and tried to walk me out of the hospital, my feet dragging along the floor.
After we left the hospital and reached the car, I was bundled into the back seat, deciding to lie down as I felt too sick to sit up. On the way home, looking through the window, I then noticed that my father was driving in the wrong direction. I asked them where they were taking me, and they said they were taking me to my school. I panicked and begged them to take me home as I already felt humiliated enough, but they refused. When we arrived outside my school, a senior teacher came out, and I was forced to sit up despite feeling so sick. My teacher then gave me a huge b******ing, and I was forced to apologize to my teacher and parents for my own disgraceful behaviour and promise not to do it again. During the entire incident, my mother did nothing but smirk, while my father stared out the front windscreen of the car pretending that nothing was happening. After the teacher had left, my mother then laughed at me because she’d put in my place and shown me who was boss. I’d been set up and the joke was on me!
Glitterbug – that is truly horrible. I’m sorry that happened to you. Hugs.
I’m so sorry. All of that is just monstrous.
I’m so sorry you went through that. What an obscene excuse for parents–and hospital staff, and teacher.
Awful.
It happened a long time ago, and it’s not something I tend to think about that much any more. I suppose it’s just Stephen Sontag ‘jokes’ that made me think about it again, and I’m wondering how many of these ‘jokes’ were also played on Rachel.
Unfortunately, the way in which the hospital staff and my teacher treated me when I was growing up wasn’t that unusual. Attitudes towards victims of spousal abuse, and child abuse were generally poor. Rarely was a victim of abuse believed, and if they were, it was always their fault.
Mine never went that far, but I disclosed to a church youth leader and they ridiculed me, so I never said anything to anyone outside the house again. I did tell my mother once that I was suicidal, and smirked and told me I had nothing to be depressed about and that was the end of it. I pushed my way through it, but it was definitely touch and go for quite some time, and my mother did not know or care how close it got (I suppose it would have saved her a lot of trouble and provided her with a lot of attention, had I gone through with it, so there wasn’t much incentive). I’m sorry you had to go through the experience you did and fear of that kind of treatment is part of what motivated me to keep it all to myself.
Magpie, I can fully understand that. After all, why talk about abuse or feeling depressed if you’re not going to be believed and only punished and humiliated for it.
Because of the way in which I was treated, I didn’t really start talking about the abuse again until I was in my 30’s. But I suppose that’s why abusers and their enablers do it. They do it to silence you.
It’s interesting that both my mother and yours thought that it was ‘funny’ to have a depressed and suicidal child, i.e. something to smirk or laugh about. How hilarious!
There was some really messed up stuff the last time I saw her and it took me awhile to recognize that she was really that ill. For example, she deliberately let our dogs out of the yard on our busy street, where there was a high likelihood of severe injury or death to our pets. She did it while I watched. Just opened the gate while I was shouting at her to close it. She literally held the gate open to allow the second dog out after the first one. We were able to chase them down, while she just stood there silently and watched the whole thing. When questioned about it, she was just nonresponsive, like she had completely dissociated. It made me realize that she cannot understand the emotional consequences of what she is doing. I guess she thought it would be entertaining though? A person that lacks empathy to that extent is just plain dangerous.
I may have just doxxed myself, if she ever finds this blog. If she does, oh well.
I don’t think that my own mother is capable of feeling genuine empathy either. She could often put on a good show, but would then do or say certain things that gave the game away.
Someone not understanding or considering the consequences of their own actions can be dangerous. Add impulsiveness to that mix and you have a recipe for disaster.
As I’ve already mentioned, both my parents were abusive and abused one another. My mother would intentionally goad my father, and repeatedly verbally abuse him until the ‘s**t hit the fan’ (she always aimed for that reaction). Once things kicked off, my mother would be screaming, scared that my father would hurt her. Then the very next day she might do the same thing again, not considering or caring that me or my brother, or even she might be hurt in the process. It was as if she was incapable of understanding the consequences of her own actions, but I know that on some level she chose to do it because she loved the drama and found it entertaining.
Also, no excuses for my father’s behaviour. He could have simply walked away.
Yes. I’ve posted here before about my mother’s love of drama and chaos. The impulsiveness too — she shops constantly and has declared bankruptcy several times. She was saving up for her fourth when I last saw her.
She used to present really well to outsiders, but was having a hard time doing so when I last saw her and was getting into conflicts with coworkers (she used to sometimes talk trash about them behind their backs, but they generally liked and respected her — no longer). I don’t know if she has dementia or if it’s just normal for someone like her to start dissociating with age.
This section of the “When It All Began” page stood out. It’s about the chaos Steven claims Rachel caused in high school.
So why did Rachel, who had all the comforts and responsible freedoms at home, instigate so many events that most children, themselves, would have found offensive, unproductive and distasteful?
Why when entrusted with taking care of the house, did she misplace the keys, use the windows without their screens as a door, not close the windows and leave the house vulnerable?
Why would she disappear without telling us where she was or when she would be home?
Why would she intentionally dress provocatively and cheaply when we went to religious services?
Why at the end of an unbelievably wonderful unblemished 8-day vacation cruise, would she disappear during the last night and not show up until the next day after every passenger had disembarked and the captain had become a nervous wreck?
Why 3 weeks before her college entrance exams, when Rachel’s dad was spending every evening after work studying with her to make sure she passed, did she suddenly and without explanation stop coming home and begin working at an evening pub as a waitress to have money for clothes and cosmetics?
Taking it a piece at a time:
Why when entrusted with taking care of the house, did she misplace the keys, use the windows without their screens as a door, not close the windows and leave the house vulnerable?
…Because she lost the keys? Then judged that in her neighborhood, the house would be okay as long as the door was locked? And she had no way of locking the windows that wouldn’t lock her out? It may have been a dumbass move, but it wasn’t something she did at anyone. She lost the keys and used the window as a door. Like a lot of people who lose their keys.
Why would she disappear without telling us where she was or when she would be home?
Because she was a teenager.
Why would she intentionally dress provocatively and cheaply when we went to religious services?
Because she was experimenting with her identity. You know, like a teenager.
Why at the end of an unbelievably wonderful unblemished 8-day vacation cruise, would she disappear during the last night and not show up until the next day after every passenger had disembarked and the captain had become a nervous wreck?
Let’s skip over the typical Steven hyperbole about the “unbelievably wonderful unblemished vacation” and go straight to: Not enough details to say. According to Rachel, she lost her room key and slept in the lounge; she doesn’t say anything about not showing up until the rest of the passengers were gone. Steven doesn’t give any useful details, though he implies that she caused trouble intentionally. Maybe she did, in which case we’ve finally hit upon one event in a list of supposed atrocities that might possibly have been more out of line than the average teenager.
Why 3 weeks before her college entrance exams, when Rachel’s dad was spending every evening after work studying with her to make sure she passed, did she suddenly and without explanation stop coming home and begin working at an evening pub as a waitress to have money for clothes and cosmetics?
Jesus Christ, if you were “helping me study” for the SATs/ACTs every single night, I’d get a job in a bar, too.
Steven has no idea why Rachel got a job, but he’s certain what she wanted the money for. That’s telling. If someone says they want money for clothes and makeup, you’d normally deduce that they got a job to earn money for clothes and makeup. Steven can’t make that leap. Presumably it’s not a weighty enough reason for him, since she gave up study time to work, but he doesn’t take the easy way out and assume she’s so shallow that she’d rather have clothes and makeup now than a shot at a better college later. No, he takes an even easier way out and refuses to make any deductions at all.
Out of Steven’s entire list of things Rachel did to inflict chaos upon the family, we have:
* One mistake and a suboptimal, but pretty ordinary, solution.
* One standard teenaged rebellion.
* One standard teenaged self-exploration.
* One possible event where Rachel was out of line.
* One instance of getting a job closer to exams than Steven would like.
Steven considers all of this to be aimed at him. Rachel loses the keys and leaves the window open at him. Rachel experiments with clothes at him. Rachel gets a job at him. Rachel doesn’t get to do anything for herself that happens to have the side effect of annoying or inconveniencing other family members; she must consider the effect of everything she does upon all everyone else in the family, and any negative effects are deliberate choices she makes to hurt other people. Steven is so sure of this that he says “most children, themselves, would have found [the events] offensive, unproductive and distasteful”.
Really?
From the book, Rachel appears to be the family scapegoat. Her father was, dare I say, paranoid – everything she did was to spite him, to ruin his perfect family.
Also – that, too, is going by the book, so I have an obligation to be skeptical – but Rachel says that her father would measure her fingernails; apparently, too long qualified as “dressing cheaply”. So I’d like to see what father’s standards about what constitutes “provocative and cheap” are. Might be that she wasn’t inappropriate at all.
Scapegoat and golden child in one. She got the attention and opportunities of a golden child, but not the adoration, at least not in her presence. And you’re right–so much paranoia. Not the crushing, smothering paranoia of a full-blown paranoid, but the insidious paranoia of someone so undeveloped that they’re stuck at the stage where everything is about them. I was blown away by how he accused Rachel of talking badly about him to his dying mother. Something in him was aware that if his mother knew what he was doing, she’d be shattered, so he concluded that Rachel–his darling, the child he showered with endless love and opportunities and certainly never abused–was narcing on him. He never saw how his accusations were an admission that he treated Rachel so badly that she could destroy him if she told the truth.
It seemed like anything that suggested Rachel wasn’t an asexual prepubescent was “cheap.” There’s a part in the book that broke my heart–Rachel says her father lectured them when they described objects as cheap, because the correct way to say something didn’t cost much was “inexpensive.” Rachel says, “I was tired of hearing that shoes were inexpensive and I was cheap.” It speaks to how routinely he knocked her down, and how he gave her less dignity than a pair of shoes.
But I’d like to see what he considers cheap, too.
I remember the “cheap” part distinctly, as well. A weird madonna-whore complex manifestation.
True, and Jenny comes across as ignored in comparison, craving any attention.
“Scapegoat and golden child in one. She got the attention and opportunities of a golden child,”
suddenly some things in my life make more sense
❝Why at the end of an unbelievably wonderful unblemished 8-day vacation cruise, would she disappear during the last night and not show up until the next day after every passenger had disembarked and the captain had become a nervous wreck?❞
Let’s skip over the typical Steven hyperbole about the “unbelievably wonderful unblemished vacation” and go straight to: Not enough details to say. According to Rachel, she lost her room key and slept in the lounge; she doesn’t say anything about not showing up until the rest of the passengers were gone. Steven doesn’t give any useful details, though he implies that she caused trouble intentionally. Maybe she did, in which case we’ve finally hit upon one event in a list of supposed atrocities that might possibly have been more out of line than the average teenager.
My guess is that when she woke up after falling asleep in the lounge, she hid somewhere instead of rejoining her parents because she knew her dad was going to flip the fuck out about her losing her room key at him (in her account, she states that he “was furious that [she’d] stayed out all night”) and simply didn’t register how worried the captain and crew would be when they discovered one of their passengers was missing. Not the most rational thing to do, but I’ve done similarly irrational things out of anxiety myself, and considering what her father did do to her once she was found, I’m not inclined to blame her for being too caught up in her fear of his wrath to think about things logically.
I do not understand how these damaging people/parents are still allowed to work as doctor and social worker in Illinois. Mandated reporters of child abuse include teachers, doctors and social workers. I’d like to know if Rachel’s teachers tried, but somehow couldn’t press for their licenses being revoked.
This book was a great portrayal of emotional abuse – the kind that can be so hard to get people unfamiliar with it to understand. They’ll say – “nobody hit you, you were well fed, educated, you had every material thing – what are you complaining about?” Rachel does a beautiful job of showing why those things are not the only, or even the most important, things.
For anyone who grew up in an affluent family with a Personality Disordered Mother (parent) another excellent read is Wendy Lawless, “Chanel Bonfires.” (I’m biased for sure as this woman truly captured my pre-NC life. Scary good read!)
Higher income families are not subject to the scrutiny of lower income families nor are they likely to come in contact with agencies or individuals who may be able to intervene on behalf of the children. Attending a private school in my experience and seeking assistance for a wildly Disordered parent is something of an abuse oxymoron: People from “those kinds of families” couldn’t possibly be abusive-“look at all the (material) resources the parents provide…” including the reality the staff is paid through the parent’s tuition cost. How vested as Mandated Reporters do you think the staff is?! In my experience they are far more invested in their paycheck than fulfilling their mandate as Reporters. Additionally, with all the financial resources the parents can easily paint a picture of unabashed family perfection to the outside world. My world was just as impoverished but in a different way than a low income family. Genuine Parental love doesn’t cost a penny and “returns on investment” are lifelong for both the child and the parents.
The house (no, not “home”) I grew up in is the coldest residence I have ever experienced, due to the PD/hot momma mess: A sprawling pile of terror and torment does not make a home. Bruises fade. Broken bones mend. Burns scar over. It is the psychological/emotional abuse in my experience that leaves the longest legacy and the greatest demands.
(Off to check out Ms. Sontag’s book on Amazon. Thanks! Any other book recommendations are much appreciated.)
The thing that stuck out to me is why the hell would you keep this kind of letter? I think I might have made an apology card or some such when I was eight or so, but my parents didn’t hang on to it. They graciously allowed my faults to be lost to the mists of time. It’s not like some cute picture or card that you’d want to keep and cherish. That’s actually the vibe I get, that he keeps all those groveling forced apology letters to savor on occasion, as well as using them as “ammo”.
…Good catch. You’re right, this is incredibly self-righteous of him. Does this imply he cherished the apology, in a “I’m big and you’re small, I’m right and you’re wrong” way?
It makes me think of the tendency of serial killers to keep trophies from their victims.