By Joanie Bentz, B.S., M.Ed., LBS
In my last article, I described how I’m using the “empty chair technique” to help a client, Mary, get closure about her disordered, but deceased, father. Here we have a continuation of the empty chair technique with Mary and her father. Mary finished the last session telling her father that she is finished trying to reason with unreasonable people. In this second session, Mary picks up where she left off. She wants to discuss her abusive mother.
Mary’s father makes a choice too
Joanie: Mary, you told your father you are done reasoning with unreasonable people. You told him you made a choice. Did he agree with your choice?
Mary: No, by his silence, he did not. He never tried to reach me again after telling me that we need to talk through a text message. I never responded to that text, hoping he would tell me what he wanted through a phone call. Usually when someone does not respond to a text, you follow up with a call. He did not. He never made an attempt. Nor did he try reaching my children.
Joanie: So, you gave it some time, to see if he would calm down and call you?
Mary: Yes. But through lack of a response, he showed me that was not what he wanted. In reality, he wanted to get me alone, shame me for my decisions, and scold me for not involving family. So, a call was never forthcoming. Not even to say, hey, I love you, it’s okay, I will try to understand, etc. He knew that I was not going to be bullied anymore, by anyone. Especially under the guise of care and concern.
Joanie: Okay. Let’s go ahead. Tell your father what you think.
Mary confronts father about mother’s abuse
Mary: I would like to ask you, when mother beat me in front of you why did you do nothing to stop it? Or why didn’t you even come to me after and try to help or comfort me? Anything to make it better. Why?
Read more — Senior Sociopaths as parents: manipulating their kids while young and as adults.
Dad: Your mom would get angry when you did not understand something. I did not like that she designated me to help you when you were stuck on school math assignments. She would only beat you for a minute or two. And it was not all of the time.
Mary: Dad, do you remember when she would pull my hair until I cried, and also pushed me from behind. I was always looking over my shoulder as a kid. That’s because she would come up from me from behind when I was unaware of her presence. Something changed in me around grade 3. I have a memory of other abuse, and at someone else’s hands, but the memory is unclear.
Dad: I saw her do it sometimes. That’s how I grew up too. We all did.
Mary: So, does this justify that I should have grown up like that too? Did I do something so terrible back then that I should be physically harmed?
Dad: No, you were a good kid. But your siblings thought you were spoiled and never had to work for anything. You were one of the youngest. The youngest tends to get more of what they want.
Mary: I just wanted you to know that I cheated my way through 5th grade math just so I would not make a mistake or show that I don’t understand something and then get physically abused again by Mom. I felt hate from her when she did this to me. I will never forget it. Then, in 6th grade, I had to play catch-up and I was very anxious– fearful of failing even thought I was a good student. Thankfully, I was able to rebound.
Dad: Well, I never would have known that, you never told me.
Mary: Do you also remember when I came to you and told you that mom chased me around the house and threw things at me? I wanted you to do something. I came to you. But you would not. Why?
Dad: There were other things going on at that time that you don’t know about. It would not have been easy to confront your mother about her behavior.
Mary: So, at my physical and mental expense, you let it go– hoping everything would still appear normal on the outside? Do you expect a child that has experienced mistreatment like this to be able to function without fear, insecurity and shame?
Now I know why that as I grew into an adult, I tended to confide in the wrong people, especially about my family, and have too much trust in those who betrayed it. I was desperate for someone to understand!
Dad: I don’t know.
Mary: I heard other relatives talk about being beat by their mothers as well. They would joke about it, as if it was funny. Normalized it with humor. (I need to take a break. Exhausted).
The infantilization of Mary
Joanie: Mary, it seems that money was the tool often used to keep the family close, more with your dad than your mother. As you talk to your dad during this process, are you feeling that you did not deserve it when your father helped you financially?
Mary: I have felt that way my whole life. When I was very young, money management was a frequent topic among the adults, but I never received direction. My mother would take my paycheck when I was a teenager, and I would never see it. I was too intimidated to ask why and felt it was not my place to ask.
Joanie: It seems you were “infantilized.” This means they denied you the natural process of becoming an adult and wanted to keep you under their control. The less you know how to do on your own, the more say they have in your life. This treatment can compromise a child’s mental health.
Mary: Yes! They resisted my adult functioning. I felt incapable and helpless, but hid it very well. Later, when I grew older, I figured a lot out on my own.
Joanie: Safe people respect our right to make adult choices. Okay, Mary, continue talking to your father.
Mary attempts to educate father
Mary: Dad, do you remember me visiting you during the day—when I was recently engaged to my husband — and I brought several articles about the effects of abuse on the brain and body?
Dad: Yes, I remember. You wanted me to read them to understand what you went through and how it affected you in different ways.
Mary: Yes, that’s right. Tell me what you said to me.
Dad: I said I don’t think I can understand what the articles are really about because I have never been abused.
Mary: I am happy you have no memory of being abused, but I was trying to increase your knowledge about the implications of abuse for me and my children, and what it meant for us to experience it on a daily basis, and what it means for us to heal. Maybe I misunderstood, but you seemed disinterested. I don’t even know if you read them. You never said you did.
Dad: Maybe I read them, I don’t remember. I am a lot older than you and I forget things. Your other siblings understand this better and don’t bother me with topics that might upset me. It’s better that way.
Mary: I did not understand the need for everyone to protect you. You are/were an adult and should be aware of what is going on with our family. My mother hid information from you as well over the years.
Mary’s siblings — the watchdogs of communication
Mary: Did you know that the “other siblings” would attempt to control the conversations I could have with you—as if I were required to go through a screening process to speak to you about anything. I was told not to talk about certain topics. They also did not like how I announced my engagement, as if I needed their approval on my methods of communication.
Dad, my relationship with you should have been autonomous. Here is one of the problems Joanie told me about. Our family was “enmeshed.” Personal boundaries were being violated, and there was ongoing lack of privacy.
Learn more: Self-care for survivors
Joanie: Very good Mary. Your Dad had no idea this was a problem, because it has become an accepted way of communicating and interacting in your family. In these types of families, the psychological control over the child often leads to codependent unhealthy relationships.
Dad: Well, when your mother was alive, she did things this way. I was just going with what I know.
Joanie: Sorry, Mary, for all of these bad memories. As you formed into a young adult and then a full-grown adult, your mindset and outlook were altered, most likely from post-traumatic stress. You were always in fight or flight, and being in this state can physically kill someone if healing does not take place.
Mary: Yes, my digestive system took the hit. I made sure I kept a smile on my face and hid everything I was feeling—it all went to my gut. I had to keep moving on for the sake of my kids so I could function and work. My kids needed me. It’s a miracle that I survived and thrived.
Next in this series: Mary confronts her father about her abusive ex-husband and her brother who died from complications arising from drug-addiction.