Gaslighting: a 1st-person account of toxic dialog ...

“I'm tired of debating the fundamental nature of reality with you.”

I said this to her, in exactly those words, at least a few times.

But much more often, I confided in my good friend this frustration—and just tried to make things work, silently; to swallow my frustration, because sharing only seemed to make things worse: “Don't be so emotional,” “Why do you keep re-visiting the past?” “That's not what happened.” “You're so melodramatic.”

My frustration: that she and I could experience the same 5 minutes of life together, and tell completely different stories about what had just happened … and in hers, somehow, I always seemed to be more foolish and wrong in her eyes than I was in my own—which was not usually the case, when I compared experiences with others among friends or colleagues or even most strangers—but in her eyes, I was overly-emotional and needlessly stressed, unaware of my flaws and resistant to accept reality. That is, reality as she saw it.

She always hated that I went to my friend for advice—“It's no one's business,” she would say. And when I explained, “But I need advice; I want other peoples' perspectives and guidance,” she would critique the character of the people I trusted to confide in. My closest nearby friend? “He's a shitty person,” she would say, so many times that I started conceding reluctantly, “Okay, he's done some shitty things, BUT—” just to move conversation past yet another debate over the basic nature of reality.

… Welcome to what psychologists call GASLIGHTING, a relationship phenomenon that I lived inside for over two years. I didn't know what it was called until 3 months after I had ended it. But when I described it to a friend, she named it immediately—and when I looked it up online¹, my brain sparked with recognition at the way it was described:

STAGE 1 – disbelief: the stage where I was making justifications for her responses; for her having to be right, and being very sensitive to suggestions or even attempts at support that drew attention to personal weaknesses, while at the same time she constantly dispensed criticisms and judgments … she once told me, off-hand, in the beginning of our relationship, "I usually only argue when I'm wrong." During this stage in the relationship, I was mainly putting my energy into making things better.

STAGE 2 – defense: the stage where I began constantly defending myself against what seem unfair and inaccurate descriptions of me and my behavior...here, the article states my experience almost exactly: "you start defending yourself – telling your [partner] that you are not that sensitive or stressed ... But, during this stage, you are driven crazy by the conversation.... going over and over, like an endless tape, in your mind. / What's worse, is that these kinds of conversations characterize your relationship more and more. You can't stand that your [partner] sees the situation like that and you work even harder...just to prove that you are not overly sensitive and stressed out."

STAGE 3 – depression: the stage where I started experiencing a noticeable lack of joy, and “some of my behavior feels truly alien." ... like I told her then, I felt anxious, stressed, fuzzy and distracted in my thoughts, infantilized—losing my confidence. And I would have those admissions of my vulnerable state met by phrases like, "You've always felt like shit about yourself”; lines that, in retrospect, were reinforcing that internal sense of self-degrading, confidence-shriveling, worry-fueling doubt. Because I just didn't know anymore, in my heart, if I was capable of understanding the world: the most significant other voice in my life was constantly saying I was wrong—about my world perceptions, my actions and words, even my internal thoughts and feelings—and she seemed very certain that she was right.

Wikipedia² explains this behavior, where one partner shapes and distorts the other's sense of reality, as a pairing of Projection and Introjection - one partner transferring "painful and potentially painful mental conflicts" to a partner, who has "a tendency to incorporate and assimilate what others externalize and project onto them.” ... I like this description because it leaves room for empathizing with the pain inside of the one who projects; that motivates those projections (that is, she didn't do it to be abusive; she did it to protect herself from stress—from being wrong or feeling inadequate in front of someone she really loved). And it also doesn't paint me as weak or stupid or gullible, but just emotionally inclined to accept in what others offer out (that is, I knew rationally that what she was saying often reflected her emotional state rather than literal reality; for better or for worse, I couldn't help trying to attune with her world, so that we could be in the same one).

Of course, looking back, it was a real bummer to realize that this was the relationship dynamic I had fallen into—BUT, it was also a comfort to know that I am not the only one who has been relationally persuaded into self-doubt. And it also makes me feel kind of proud remembering that, when I was deep in the self-doubt of that “gaslighted” state-of-mind, and one day felt a little tingle of the person I used to be³, I was able to hang on to that, and ride it out toward clearer skies, beyond the clouds I'd sunken into over the last 2.5 years; to say:

“I love you, but I can't be with you anymore; it's not healthy for me: you deserve somebody who can take what you give without being broken by it; and I need someone who is willing to put being kind-and-sensitive above being right-and-impervious.”
*

FOR REFERENCE:

I found particularly helpful the list of warning-signs at the end of the article; for me, in my relationship, numbers {1*, 2, 5, 6, 8*, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12, 13*, 14} rang out as very accurate descriptions.

1. You are constantly second-guessing yourself / 2. You ask yourself, "Am I too sensitive?" a dozen times a day. / 3. You often feel confused and even crazy at work. / 4. You're always apologizing to your mother, father, boyfriend,, boss. / 5. You can't understand why, with so many apparently good things in your life, you aren't happier. / 6. You frequently make excuses for your partner's behavior to friends and family. / 7. You find yourself withholding information from friends and family so you don't have to explain or make excuses. / 8. You know something is terribly wrong, but you can never quite express what it is, even to yourself. / 9. You start lying to avoid the put downs and reality twists. / 10. You have trouble making simple decisions. / 11. You have the sense that you used to be a very different person - more confident, more fun-loving, more relaxed. / 12. You feel hopeless and joyless. / 13. You feel as though you can't do anything right. / 14. You wonder if you are a "good enough" girlfriend/ wife/employee/ friend; daughter. / 15. You find yourself withholding information from friends and family so you don't have to explain or make excuses.
https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/power-in-relationships/200905/are-you-being-gaslighted

1 https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/power-in-relationships/200905/are-you-being-gaslighted

2 https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaslighting

3 (And of course, here, thanks due to E, for sparking that flutter of joy in me...we seldom save ourselves all on our own in this world. Or sink ourselves, for that matter.)

4 Responses to a shirtless man with apples...

{Trick?...}

So, we live and learn. From living through Halloween 2015, I learned the following: (A) That you can't leave lit jack-O-lanterns outside, plus leave your porch light on, without sending children the message that you have candy for them; (B) That our indoor lamp and our outdoor porch light are controlled by the same switch; and (C) That most kids nowadays are not pumped about free fruit.

More detail: my roommate and I were getting into our zen, preparing for an evening of Halloween adventures downtown. He was in his room killing zombies on the computer; I was on the couch in only a pair of comfy jeans, watching gore-makeup tutorials on Youtube with my laptop. In years past, our street had been fairly thin on trick-or-treaters—so neither of us expected FOUR groups to show up. But show they did. And I—the Halloween ambassador for our home—leaped up each time to offer the best I had of Hallow's Eve cheer and treats:

“Oh wow! You guys look great/frightening/totally convincing! Sorry, I have no candy—also no shirt on—but I do have a bag of jazz apples! Apples, anyone?”

The four responses played out as follows:

Knock 1: 8 KIDS, 3 PARENTS, and a STROLLER

Me – “Oh wow! You guys look great! Sorry, we have no candy—um, let me see what we have though … Ooh! We have apples. Do you want apples.”

7-year old boy/Transformer – “{wrinkles face}NOo.”

Me – “{to parents} Sorry guys. Happy Halloween!”

exeunt. … (2 minutes pass.)

Knock 2: ATTRACTIVE MOM and 2 KIDS

Me – “Oh, a lion, and a ghost! Totally convincing! I actually DON'T have any candy—but I do have apples! Apple?”

4-year old boy/Lion – {silently shakes his head with heart-meltingly underplayed lip-droop}

Attractive mom – “That's okay. {looks at my torso; turns to her boy and girl} Ask him if he's got any vodka, kids. I bet he'll have that {smiles at me}.”

Me – “Alright {laughs}. Y'all look great! Happy Halloween.”

exeunt. … (5 minutes pass)

Knock 3: 5 KIDS and LARGE MOTHER

Me – “Oh wow, you guys look really scary! I'm sorry, I don't have candy—but I do have apples! If you're interested.”

Boy/Skeleton & Girl/Princess-thing in front – “No, thank you.”

Me – “Really? No one likes apples, I guess. Happy Halloween!”

Large mom – “{looks up as last kid steps down} Put a shirt on.”

exeunt. … (15 minutes pass)

Knock 4: ONE LARGER-THAN-ME BOY(85% sure) and YOUNG DAD

Me – “Hey! Happy Halloween. You look great. I'm sorry, I don't actually have any candy.”

12-to-16 year old boy(?)/Sunday grandma holding up a large pillow-case – “{Sincerely and unabashedly} Well, what do you have?”

Me – “I've got a bag of apples, but nobody's wanted them—”

Boy – “I'll take an apple.”

Me – “Yeah?! Alright!{grab apple out of fridge, wash it off, palm-dry it} Here you go, dude! Good on you.”

Dad – “Thank you {waves from stair-bottom}.”

Boy – “Thank you!”

Me – “Happy Halloween, you guys.”

exeunt.

I'm pretty sure that large child was male—I hope so. I really committed to those masculine pronouns as I tried to be jovial and non-chalant handing that giant child an apple: honestly, that was my favorite moment of the night—well, that, and when our friend dressed as Gumbi found another person dressed as Gumbi's horse Pokey, and they hugged and danced on the downtown sidewalk for minutes. But that boy marked the beginning of the Halloween spirit. Rock on, Grannie.

Phrases that don't improve relationships ...

{I was surprised at how well I fit into the panel...}

So I went online today and saw a video being shared enthusiastically by female friends of mine. Interested in further expanding my sense of life from a woman's-eye view, I watched.

 {:Video-Link:}

The video, posted by 'Huffpost Women' (10 Dec. 2015), is titled: “48 Things Women Hear in a Lifetime* (that men just don't).” Its recites familiar phrases, by young girls and grown women and elderly ladies, pointing clearly to some cultural attitudes that, if they were directed at me (Josh, a man), I would find irritating, frustrating, condescending, and/or dispiriting.

As I watched on, I realized that, in fact, some of these phrases HAD been said to me many times, by my once-partner in a long-term relationship—which I found humorous; an inversion of stereotypical roles. But I also found this sharpening my sympathies for those women on screen, because my partner's persistent repeating of those judging, dismissive, role-imposing phrases was a large part of why my relationship ended … not because they were conventionally sexist, in my case—just because they didn't show understanding or respect for me, and were said way too often.

Of course, as a man, receiving those comments makes me a comical exception to the norm—she once told me I was the “gayest straight man” she'd ever known (and that, I took as a compliment). But if I were a women, these comments would be unremarkably ordinary—which, I think, would have made {female}me even more irritated: I, man-Josh, can walk away from a relationship when I begin feeling insecure, infantilized, disrespected. But a woman can't walk away from that in a general culture … so yeah, if you're thinking of using these phrases—whether on a woman, a man, or a kid—ask yourself first: “Is this going to improve the relationship?”

Things women hear in a lifetime—Said to me:

You need to wax your eyebrows.

(Really more of a request: “Can I please wax your eyebrows again?” She also once Kamikaze-waxed my nipple—I don't recommend it.)

Why are you getting so emotional?

(My response: “I'm not. But if I were, that condescending sentence would not help me regain my calmness.”)

Stop being so dramatic.

(My response: to recap what had just happened, and counter-assess, “That's not being dramatic. That's talking things out.” or “I'm not being melodramatic; you shin-kicked me with a figure-skate, so I walked back to safer side of the room.”)

You would be really pretty if you just made an effort.

(Slightly adjusted: “You could look really handsome, if you had some fashion sense.”)

Haven't been / Probably won't ever be said to me:

* PAST *

Your dad will have to chase the boys away when you're older.

(I was danced-up-on by a 40-year old at an academic convention in San Francisco once … he wasn't even part of the convention. I guess I give off a vibe.)

He picks on you because he likes you.

(No: I was picked on because because I was overweight, pale, wore a felted explorer's hat, and had a haircut that looked like my dad had done it—because he had. And he was a city planner, NOT a barber.)

Don't wear that to school, you're going to distract the boys.

(No: more like my mom saying, “Why do you feel the need to draw attention to yourself?”)

Don't be a slut.

(That was the opposite of my problem.)

No guy wants to have sex with a virgin.

(That was a lot closer to my problem.)

It must be that time of the month.

(My dad would say that, but always in reference to the library book sale.)

Nice rack.

(I made a rack once in shop class—but it was NOT very good. It also wasn't hanging off my chest.)

 * PRESENT *

You don't wanna go out with me? You're ugly anyway.

(Two girls have ever asked me out. I said “Yes” to one. The other had given me a bouquet of dead white mice on a wire tree in a vase. Honestly, it was pretty sweet, given circumstances—I left a message.)

You like football?

(No: I get, “You don't watch any sports?” But I can get out with, “I'd rather be playing than watching.”)

Your drive is kind of intimidating.

(I get “Your eye contact is kind of intense.” That's different, though—I probably should work on that.)

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.

(Never been part of a wedding party—but I'm 32, so who knows. Maybe I'll get an “Always a groomsman...”)

Your biological clock is ticking.

(I hear, “Make sure you warm up; you don't want to pull something.” But that's not said as I'm heading out trying to make babies.)

* FUTURE *

You're not taking your husband's last name?

(Who knows? Maybe my wife will have a really amazing last name, like “Blackwood” or “Helstrom.”)

Your husband cooks dinner? You have him really well-trained.

(If you flip this to “Your wife … you have her really well-trained,” that's WAAAY offensive; don't say that one!)

You're dating a younger man? You're such a cougar.

(Mmm—no, I think they'd use the word “creeper,” if I were in that situation. Can't we ALL just be cool animals? Please: “You're dating someone! What a penguin.” )

He traded her in for a younger model.

(If I ever get traded for a younger model, I'll be like, “Pfff. You always rode my brakes too hard, anyway.”)

You should feel grateful you were catcalled.

(I got catcalled once, running shirtless; felt good. Then I overheard a girl say to her friend, “Naw, I wouldn't go for that”; I decided I'd rather get no comments than get that mix.)

Isn't that outfit a little young for you?

(No: I hear, “Don't you have any clothes that fit you? You're not in high school.”)

You still wear makeup? How adorable.

(If I'm 70 and wearing makeup, “Adorable” is probably not the first word people will think of.)

You must have been beautiful when you were younger.

(Dude. That's like saying, “Grandpa, where'd your ass go?” Sure, I'll be able to tell you, “time ate it; it used to be a juicy bubble.” But can't you just tell me you like my kind eyes, in the present?)

Be kind, be patient, be understanding.
Because that's how you make yourself a gift in this world— right?

If I stumbled into my hero ...

Do you ever wonder what you'd say if, while walking down the street, you crossed paths with some hero / anti-hero of yours? Based on experience, I'm assuming that I would say something less-than-ideal: “You are—just great! Can I kiss your head?” or “You're really mean to people—have you ever thought about being kind?”

But really, what do you say if you only have a moment in passing (assuming that you're not willing to trip them to squeeze out a few seconds of prep-time)? You don't want to be rude and monologue at them endlessly—nor say something trite that they've heard from at least five strangers every day that week. So here's me drafting—feel free to add your own heroes / anti-heroes to the list—just in case:

for Heroes ~~

Stephen Colbert 

 – “You are a curious, joyful, eloquent, and loving human being; you humble me.”

Pope Francis  

 – “Your loving example is a challenging gift for those who distrust religion's intent,
and for those who follow its dogma, alike. Thank you for championing faith's true, open spirit.”

Elizabeth Warren

 – “We need more teachers like you in D.C., making the walls transparent for this democracy.
Every time I see a clip of you online, I imagine a thousand people's hearts screaming,
'That's what I was feeling!'”

Bernie Sanders

 – “Every time you state a principle—explained in terms of simple, sensible, conscientious
actions—you make me feel younger, saner, more full of hope. You cool our nation's fever.”

Dalai Lama

 – “Your laughter is a seed that I carry in my chest. When I am sad, it reminds me that I
am also happy, and that I can place that joy on top like a warm, saturating light.”

Russell Brand

 – “You glow with purpose. I look forward to watching you age into a more and more refined
version of that fire.”

for Anti-heroes ~~

Bill O'Reilly

 – “Mister O'Reilly! The most confident, wise people I know talk to everyone as an equal
and show compassionate attention when they are presented with a challenge.”

Ted Cruz

 – “Eloquence can be used two ways: to find a common ground amidst factious voices and from there grow, or to re-shape the words of alternate voices until they seem like your view. One of these
nurtures love in society; the other, only dominance and resentment.”

assorted Corporate Decision-Makers for factory farms, NRA, oil/coal, etc.

 – “Money, in all its expressions of influence, is a place-holder: dynamic, unstable, and intrinsically worthless. This planet, in all its experiences of life, is equally dynamic and delicate—but arguably infinite in value. If you measured your legacy in terms of that life—quality, health, well-being—
in total, how much have you gained?”

Putin et al. dictatorial leader types 

 – “Hello, sir. I value my life; I have no intention of getting in your way.
One man's will means nothing.”

Custom pants ...

What are the Abominable Snowman's pants made out of?

… Brrr-lap.

And what are a spider's pants made out of?

                                 … Caught-in.

Then what are a parrot's pants made out of?

                                                            … Polly-ester.

And what are Mr. Clean's pants made out of?

                                                                                                … Lather.

Life-sampling ...

I traveled to Iowa this summer, for a family reunion. Families often set some time aside for “catching up” on biographies—being saturated with each others' stories, and curious about them, and invested in how they develop, is an essential part of the human family dynamic. But in the course of daily life—especially when you're crossing state lines and wandering through airports—one can't help incidentally sampling others' lives as well. These following moments from my four-day journey, where I brushed by a sample of someone else's story, were particularly memorable:

{from life-sample #4: Descending into Atlanta...}

INT: AIRPLANE - DESCENDING INTO MOLINE, IL (5 August 2015)

Stewardess comes down the aisle to secure the airplane cabin for landing. A lanky young man is wearing black clothes and listening intently to his headphones with a hip blend of pensiveness, aloofness. He has not yet acknowledged the illuminated 'FASTEN SEAT BELTS' sign.

Stewardess:

“Sir, I', going to need you to put your seat belt on for me.”

Man nods.

Stewardess:

“Thank you.”

The belt is only half-tightened; it sags off to the side in a manner that would likely leave the man whipping around like a tether-ball if the plane lost its stability.

The man tugs on the belt and notices this. He looks for the adjusting-strap. He finds it, and promptly loosens the belt all the way.

He then slides across to the vacant window-seat beside him to watch our plane's descent through the windy sky.

*

INT: HAMPTON INN – MOLINE, IL (6 August 2015)

A man and woman sit together at one of a dozen small tables adjacent to the inn's complimentary breakfast nook. The woman has just returned from the hot-trays, where a row of identical half-moon omelets were stacked at the ready, on their sides, about 8-deep.

She cuts into her omelet and takes a bite. She chews thoughtfully.

Woman:

“It's good.”

Man looks out past the far edge of his bagel to meet her gaze.

Woman:

“I don't know if it's real, but—”

*

INT: SMALL RESTAURANT NEAR AUGUSTANA COLLEGE – ROCK ISLAND, IL (6 August 2015)

While the restaurant's three current patrons (including myself) eat their sandwiches in the enclosed porch alcove, the waitress joins two other female workers as they sit beside a table cooling off from the afternoon heat.

Waitress:

“I'm having grandpa watch my girl today. She's scared to death of her grandpa—anything he does. He's terrifying. She's at that age, you know. Stranger-danger.”

*

AIRPLANE CABIN – DESCENDING INTO ATLANTA, GA

(8 August 2015)

{This final scene it too rich to be told concisely in screenplay format; enjoy the narrative:}

A mother sits in aisle seat beside me, balancing her toddler son on her lap, with her youngest daughter by the window and her husband and older daughter in the seats behind her. For 40 minutes, she has been feeding them all from a bag of Dum-Dums and a pack of Red Vines "To help with the altitude," sticking spent sucker sticks and wrappers in the seat pockets.

As the plane prepares for descent, her son is clearly sugar crashing: kicking the seat in front of him, making it shake like a 25-cent storefront ride, and wailing inconsolably--deaf to her incessant baby-talk, and even to the stern bursts of "Stop it! Stop it NOW; that HURTS mommy!!" that darkly tinge her ebullience.

Somewhere around minute 3 of this explosion, it becomes plain that she suffers from air sickness, and the rapid descent is destabilizing her sugar-filled stomach. "Don't push on mommy's tummy!" The little girl turns away from this drama, toward the window, and pulls down the shade to watch the rushing clouds and twirling ground below: "Look! I can see--" "Close that window now!" snaps the mother, now pressing her head into the chair and breathing deeply to settle her roiling guts. "Bllaaa-Moooommmmyy, bllaaa, bll-ggh," the little boy has been crying so long he is now choking on his own saliva, and sounds like HE will be the first to lose it.

"Honey, give me a puke-bag," she says to her husband, and he calmly obliges (he seems quite well-prepared to this drama), but the boy pushes it away, kicking again and bouncing on her stomach, to which he is woefully strapped and buckled. She then hold the bag to her own face, and breaths to the side, in my direction, a few times, a few times deeper, and then "Blerggghh" the bag begins to fill with the unmistakable neon glow of many, many liquified candies.

For a moment, this seems to distract the boy from his tantrum--but only for a moment So as she hands her husband that first weighted bag and begins to fill a second one, the boy resumes his crying as the jet careens--far too slowly, it now seems--toward the runway.

We land. "Now do you see why mommy doesn't fly that often?" She jests to her daughters. The family laughs as they load up a trash bag with their various plastic and biological waste. I collect my hat and bag. The man beside me pulls his homemade burrito from his seat pouch and stores it in his carry-on. "I bet you're glad you didn't eat that during the fight," I say to him. He laughs, "Yes, I'm very, very glad."

Answer is probably 'No,' still I wonder ...

Has there ever been an animal so cute and adorable that a predator decided not to eat it? (“Please? Look into my large, universally trusting eyes …”)

If time-travel were possible, and people could go back at the end of their lives to tell their younger selves a few things to do better, would history see an up-tick in college retention, volunteer work, voting, progressive political action, and environmental consciousness—alongside its increase in sexually-transmitted infections, skydiving, and world tourism?

When humans are no longer the premiere dictators of this natural world, will the next species up piece our practical wisdom and heroic stories back together, along with our bones and funny machines? (“And if you'll look to the left: this is called a Ferris wheel—they used to sit in these and spin around for amusement …”)

If women were in charge of social-political world affairs, would men still be allowed to go without shaving on weekends and wear comfortably ratty clothes outdoors?

Has anyone ever been wearing a really tight G-string, and farted so intensely that it played a note? (“Sally! Hurry up, we can still make it in line for free beers if {Blllrrrng} … What was tha?-eew!”)