Hi Jones,

That was a really thoughtful post, I think here on this forum we communicate so easily with people, we can sometimes forget the diverse life experiences we have all had and how differently each of us might react and for very valid reasons for all.

For me, conflict in my family as a child, led to me being scared of my family splitting up or of me being sent away. In later life conflict has left a fear that it will cause someone to kill themself. So you see, I'm a bit of a pacifist.

I tend to stay out of most conflict, but have learnt through my T to be more assertive when I need to, as a way of being heard and therefore being true to myself as a result. Bit scary at first, but it's really had positive results.

Not sure if this is what you meant for this thread Jones but it's how I try and manage some conflict anyway.

starfishy

ONYA ((Jones))

(((((JONES))))

You are so kind and thoughtful to start this thread. My family avoided conflict and I learned to run from it and as a result I am terrible at it. Conflict in my FOO was the main reason to lose love. It was/is very painful. But it does seem that people don't respect you if you don't stand up for yourself. It's a tough one for me.

I know the other men didn't respect my Dad. And I know my Dad knew he wasn't assertive but didn't really know how to assert himself. And I also know he felt bad that the other men didn't respect him and in lots of ways, probably didn't respect himself.

We all kept our feelings to ourselves until my Dad died and then everything that everyone had been holding in came out and my FOO completely fell apart. Although it wasn't being held together by much to begin with. Lots of unhappy people with forced smiles. It was and continues to be a very difficult event in my life.

Liese

MORGS,

What does ONYA mean? only near your arse?

Hello, Jones- thank you for starting this thread, I was kinda hoping for something like this. I do not remember specific ways how I handled conflict in my FOO- I know later in life I fought, and then when that didn't work, I disappeared altogether. I tend to never get too involved in relationships to begin with, but remain at a distance that is comfortable for me. I also suspect that there may have actually been a desire for conflict to happen, for me- as a way of making my voice heard, a way to "exist" maybe. At any rate- I suppose a healthier way for me at this point, would be to engage in relationships instead of keeping people at arm's length, and to make my voice heard while not being confrontational. I'm not sure. I'll have to give this a bit more thought.

hugs, Jones, Liese,Morgs and starfishy,

BB

liese

I can answer for Morgs. ONYA the way Morgs wrote it means "Good on you". A compliment. Remember us Aussies abbreviate everything we can - ONYA - just means good on you for doing a great thing.

Jones - ONYA - from me too.

Jones,
Thank you for starting this thread back up, I think it's an important discussion. I just received an update on a therapist's blog about control that I follow that seemed very timely for this discussion so I providing the link below as I think a lot of people might find it helpful.

Empty Chairs at Monkeytraps

As for my FOO, I learned to run away because when conflict happened only ONE person was allowed to be left alive in the room, everyone else has to die to serve my father's needs, so conflict was inherently dangerous and must be fled. And I must confess that I thought about it, that I could just leave. But it felt like just giving into old messages so I'm sticking around. It's scary to write this because I worry now about how my motivations might be heard but if I let my fear of what others think about me stop me from speaking then my father wins again. So here I am.

Wbat I also learned about conflict is that it is possible to have both people in a conflict live, even if it means agreeing to disagree. That different people can see the same circumstances and feel differently about them. That disagreeing about something doesn't mean we can't still value each other and continue in relationship.

OTOH, I also know I have a long history of having a difficult time admitting when I'm wrong because my sense of worth was always so fragile that admitting I had done something wrong was really threatening. Its something I worked very hard on in both my individual and marital therapy (to my husband's relief ) and have come a long way. So it can be a struggle when I am in a conflict to be able to be clear about sometimes trusting myself that I really believe I'm doing the right thing or am I resisting seeing what I've done wrong. But I believe very strongly in how important it is to be able to allow myself to be human and to screw up and take responsibility for it. And even be ok when people don't believe I am doing that or even capable of it. But that does mean that conflict can be a very difficult threatening thing to navigate with triggers that have to be processed and handled. It's understandable it is so triggering for so many people.

AG

I went to Urban dictionary and found the definition, which I will include below, just because I'm proud I found it but I see Somedays has already cleared this up. SD I think you've become the official Aussie translator for the forum!

Morgs, I LOVE that you're here because I get to learn all these new phrases!

quote:

From the Urban Dictionary
ONYA
Interjection
1. A term used by Aussie's to express a job well done.
2. Aussie slang for "Thanks" or any other gratitude
1. Good on ya, mate! I knew you'd hit the target.
2. Good on ya. Glad your on board

AG

Well, then ONYA Jones ... awesome job!!!

AG, I think lots of us around here probably have a very fragile sense of self and find it hard to admit when we're wrong. And, I'm speaking only for myself here, just so everyone understands. We are all who we are. No one here is bad. We just are, as you said, human. I'm glad you didn't run. There was no need to.

((((BIG HUGS TO EVERYONE))))

Wow, this is a big one for me, because it is tangled in so many of my issues.

So, from my Dad and JW Grandma's side of things, I get being wrong is "bad," utterly shameful, disappointing, a reason for rejection. Being perfect is the only thing that makes you safe from that. So, anytime someone seems to feel I am wrong or I even imagine someone is thinking it, the berating inner voice starts. I tend to have one of two reactions:
-Destroy myself internally before an attack can come from the outside. Sometimes, it's like a battle royale with my parts.
-Refuse to admit any wrong and argue my way out of it, so that I don't have to be "bad," and people won't be ashamed of me.

From my mom's side, I get what I described in my other thread. In that house (the one I spent a majority of my life in), wrong and right were so shifting and unpredictable that any strategy of just being perfect all the time was doomed to fail. Something could be right one day and wrong the next...or even the next hour. Or, something would be said or done and then you would be told that the exact opposite was true. It was like there was no sense of reality. And I don't even know how much of this has to do with MY dissociation vs my mom's pathological manipulation...because, I've found out at least some of it is my really not remembering things right. Sometimes, attacks came without me even being able to discern or make sense of how I had messed up. I still constantly question whether my perception of things is true or if I've somehow done wrong, lied, etc. without knowing I've done it.

So, if conflict involved me, I became like a samurai committing seppuku to salvage what little honor I could from the situation. If I was going to be asked to sacrifice, I would martyr myself willingly and prematurely. When I could not be completely invisible by attempting perfect behavior (the safest possible option), I became self-regulating, self-punishing. This did not always protect me, but it avoided straight-out conflicts like I witnessed between my mom and my oldest sister, who always felt the need to fight back and didn't notice the consequences to everyone else. There were daily screaming matches, physical fights, phones being thrown at peoples' heads, furniture being toppled, dishes shattered, doors being punched through, fighting in the street such that neighbors would call the cops on our family, people calling the cops on one another. So, I nearly never fought back, even when being overtly attacked. If you fought back or especially if you cried (anything that showed it affected you), there would be this look of triumph and the attack would increase. I think this is why I am basically incapable of crying. I put all my energy into isolating my younger siblings from witnessing or understanding what was going on, to connecting with teachers at school, as they were the only safe people I knew.

It would be nice if that was the end of things, but others were always trying to turn a two-person argument into a full-scale "world war." It didn't matter whether you chose a side or tried to be neutral. In fact, choosing a side was probably safer than being neutral (which was the route I always tried to take). At least if you chose a side, someone else was on your side. If you didn't, everyone attacked you for the fundamental betrayal of being on their side. Consequences ranged from having basic needs withdrawn (money for food, as my mom never really cooked or fed us herself, a home to live in, stuff needed for school, etc.) to having your character entirely torn to shreds both directly and indirectly (having the extended family told how horrible you were)...we are not including emotional needs, because there was no such thing by this time.

Ugh, I am starting to hear, "Oh, poor you, life sucked. So f---ing what?!"

Anyway, at some point, because of my neutrality and refusal to attack in response to being attacked, I somehow became responsible for containing the conflicts. I not only had the (voluntary) job of cleaning up a lot of the physical mess from these wars, but I was cleaning the emotional aftermath too. My mom recently tried to force some money on me (yuck, as needs and gifts were always used against me) and told me to keep it not only because she would be asking for something in return (um, thanks, confirm the noose), but because I "have always been this family's rock." It should make me feel good that she acknowledged it, but it made me sick that she knows the BS I've taken on and is framing it is a positive thing, something she expects to continue indefinitely. I have an easier time when I think she is just too f---ing crazy and clueless to get it.

I am the one my mom, older sisters, younger sisters, mom's boyfriends, etc. have always come to in order to be "heard." I became responsible for repairing the relationship from both ends. I still do it, probably at least a few times a month, via phone or in person. Gee, maybe I should stop that $#!+. That is why it was so hard for me when my sister was staying here (you guys might have noticed I have been saner since she left), because I was constantly, like every day, hearing of some sort of conflict and feeling expected to make sense of it for her, to fix it, to endorse or sponsor her side of things.

To be honest, it wasn't even the violence or scary conflict or overt emotional abuse or neglect of physical needs that was the worst. The reality of what conflict means to me is:

LOSING PEOPLE. Conflict means people run away or get sent away, kicked out, excommunicated from the family. Conflict means my mom couldn't stay with anyone very long and I had literally dozens of aborted father figures in my childhood, who I was instructed to attach to at a whim and then just as suddenly forced to detach from, until I just stopped connecting whatsoever. Conflict means suddenly I go from seeing my sister everyday to not hearing from her more than once a month for a long time. Conflict means people avoid visiting or calling, because "mom is crazy," and because I live with mom, I lose them in the same way. It means that I am the only one left in that house who can be the grownup, because I have to take care of everyone who is more fragile than me, including mom. Conflict means being so alone and I hate it!

Wow, I am really dizzy after writing that and not sure I'll be able to leave it up. Getting the attention-seeking internal accusations here about sharing my stuff. So, I'm sure it's quite obvious how these patterns play out in my interactions here. I can't stop trying to fix things. I will "fall on my sword" and welcome conflict directed at me, make it all my fault, if it means others will stop fighting with each other and I don't have to lose people again. I don't want anyone to go away and I feel like it's my fault when they do. I know that's the nature of life, but it is super triggering to me when people disappear and I start to think that if only *I* would disappear, then everything would be OK, because when people continue to fight, it is my fault for not being able to repair it.

I think taking a step back when I notice myself caught in this pattern (like I did a few days ago) is the only other solution I've learned for now.

Sorry for blahing my stuff all over here. I feel "bad" and "wrong" for sharing it, like I'm going to be in trouble...because we were never to say how things really were. We were dragged into family therapy and then forbidden to speak. And if we ever did say what stuff was really like, mom would defame us and convince people we lied. Ack, what did I open up here. I wonder how long before I have a full-scale PAD attack on this one. I'm really sorry for putting all this stuff out there. I'm just trying to own my compulsion to fix stuff.


(((((((hugs)))))))) to everyone and thanks for "listening."

I have never had a conflict with my mother that I can recall. I always viewed her as fragile, as someone who needed protecting. I tried to act as perfectly as I could so that she would never feel like I was a burden. Neither she nor I ever felt like she had any authority over me, and so we never had any of the normal teenage struggles. I did what I wanted to do, but of course what I wanted to do was never do anything wrong, so it worked out quite well.

My older brother, on the other hand, was a seething mass of anger. All the time. He hated everything and everybody, but he hated me most of all. I lived in dread of hearing him and my mother argue, because that meant that he was going to come for me as soon as he could. I had tons of different hiding places, but he always found me eventually, and then he would hurt me. Usually just his fists, but other times would have a knife or something hot to burn me with. When I was really little, I would tell on him to my mom, but I quickly learned that it just started the cycle over again, and I was better off just taking it.

Like many of us here, as an adult conflict makes me incredibly uneasy. I would rather suffer through whatever is bothering me than start a conflict with someone else. When other people are engaged in a conflict, even if it has nothing to do with me, I feel really unsafe and get a shot of adrenaline like my body is telling me “What are you waiting for, woman? Get the hell of here before someone turns on you.”

I'm struggling to remember how I dealt with conflict in my FOO which is strange because there was a lot of it. My parents were always at loggerheads with each other. My Dad would lose himself in the TV - it was as if he wasn't there - and my Mum would belittle him, blame him and tell us that one day we would come home to find that she'd put an axe in his head.

Eventually my Dad would blow up and shout back. I know he also got angry with us and smacked us but I've blocked a lot of this out and barely remember it now.

Then my Mum found out about my Dad's affair and absolutely any conversation, no matter how trivial the subject would be about my Mum indirectly expressing her anger at my Dad. So it seemed that there was always tension in the house. And my Mum was always right. Questioning her would result in her anger being turned on me.

I do remember purposefully scribbling on the wall as a young child because I was so angry at my Mum I think and then as I got older, throwing and kicking things because I hated the tension. I guess anger in our household was often expressed but not in a healthy or safe way. And it was never discussed later and resolved - just ignored until the next incident kicked off.

I know that when I was in conflict with my ex, I couldn't handle it at all. I'd get upset and overwhelmed and have to run away - literally run away as I couldn't bear it. Which caused further problems between us.

This feels like a ramble. When I started this post I thought I couldn't remember how I dealt with conflict as a child but it seems that I do remember more than I think I do. A lot is still blocked out. Anger is something I struggled to feel and admit to in therapy so it's still a big issue for me.

These are beautiful posts. It's really moving to read them - every single one of them. Healing. Actually it takes a lot of guts to be open in these circumstances. Thank you all so much.

Love,
Jones

(((Jones))) Thanks. Came here with an attack of PAD, but your encouragement helped me to stave it off for now.

You did great, Yaku. I'm so glad you posted, and said how it really is for you, and that you are hanging in there with us. You have every right to tell the truth. ((((Yaku))))

Love,
Jones

I am having a lot of trouble with this thread. My brain keeps switching off and I can't remember anything. I know now I avoid conflict - because it brings up strong emotions - and I have to avoid that. I avoided the original thread also. I just noticed that i used the word AVOID a few times.

In my FOO - we didn't have conflict!!! I don't think. IF you did something wrong, you got hit, if you argued back, you got hit. No one EVER said sorry for anything.

I think I might being this up with T one day.

(((Jones))) again. More hugs. Your encouragement really touched me. Inexplicably having a really hard time right now after sharing all that. It can be hard to believe that anyone would be glad to hear my stuff sometimes, want to hear the truth. All I can hear internally is...well, all those messages that were in my original post, so thanks for countering them. I'm kind of bad at that myself.

((((SD)))) I'm sorry. That's hard, no one ever apologizing. We never got apologies either. Sometimes...well-timed bribes (which felt like attempts to make us forget the bad stuff)...but no acknowledgement that any wrong had ever been done. I think it would definitely be a good thing to bring up with your T.

Thanks Yaks.

Yeah - I was hit because "I deserved it" - why would anyone say sorry if that is what they said and thought! My problem is that I am now doing this to my kids - er meaning not saying sorry, or not hugging them (because I feel nothing) - not hitting them...... That is why I am trying to break the circle.

In our house, everyone just shouted louder and louder - that is all I can remember.

As children, we did not really have "conflict" with our parents because they were right and you were wrong and you would get hit for being wrong. Explanation would lead only to getting hit more because of "talking back." My mother could add emotional torture into the mix which could go on for days of hitting and questioning and more hitting for answering incorrectly.
My parents had different styles of fighting with each other, my mother exploded and ranted around the house (I would take my sibling and hide him when I could, sometimes he would get into the fray and I could not save him then) and my father became even more rational, which only served to make my mother more incensed.
I tend more towards the over-rational response to conflict in my adult life.

i just stumbled across this thread, as i was looking for a "Jones post". I was telling my husband about your cute link... "It's ok if your shoes aren't diong it." Our duaghter- both took ballet.
Ok- now that I am here, i guess I should comment on the topic, hmmm...
Conflict in our house- meant run for cover, duck, hide...he is home. He was the source of conflict, and he (my father) did not tolerate conflict unless he was causing it. Run was always my m. o. but I am learning that conflict does not stop the sun from shining; it is not the end of the world... but perhaps the end of another relationship.
I can't help but believe that my relationship with my T needed to end because of spiritual conflict. I ended the relationship because i couldn't get past that conflict..., but that is another story. I have lots of work to do in this area, so thanks for the topic, Jones.