Mismatched Socks and Evil Creatures

Yesterday's festivities went "relatively" well, and pretty much as I expected. None of these people are my blood relatives. They are all my partners' family. The one family member with whom I have the most differences and who has the least clue as to how to deal with my personality made a few harsh, rude comments. That's fairly standard. Sometimes it's worse. Sometimes I am cornered and lectured. There is often conversation wherein this person just fills in my answers for me - in front of everyone - as if I am a doll. Some time ago, I asked them (politely and privately) not to give me any more gifts. They cornered me after that (in front of everyone) at another important family gathering and told me that my thoughts and feelings didn't matter and that they were going to continue gift-giving, despite my wishes. Yesterday, they asked me what I wanted for Christmas and before I could reply - and I could not help but give a concerned expression - they continue on with "Oh, is that a touchy subject? No, it's not. So what do you want for Christmas." A very similar conversation about another subject came up the last time we were together. They asked me a rude question in front of everyone, then ASKED me if it was a rude question and before I could answer they said "Yes, it is, but I'm going to ask anyway..." Minor in the face of real sorrow but still just another way of saying "You don't matter. You aren't real. You're a little paper doll in my world and if you don't please me you go back in the box." This is a definite issue for me and puts a cold, greasy knots in my stomach, heart and mind. As we began the pre-meal prayer, in the first quiet moment of holding hands, this person looked down and commented to me - and all gathered - that my socks didn't match. I am over 40 years old, have been in this family for the better part of a decade, and well known for my haphazard and colorful "fashion sense", though I do try to be appropriate and presentable for each occasion. I am usually especially safe and conservative at THESE gatherings. I was embarrassed. I replied "I know." Everyone looked a little embarrassed. "...and thank you dear Lord Jesus for L__'s humiliaton..."
My own mother physically, mentally and emotionally tortured us, starved us, locked us into old sheds with animal corpses, rats, each other, shared us with her lovers, sexually abused some of us, humiliated us, allowed us to be savagely beaten many, many times... the list seems endless. Those things were so clearly wrong. She was a definite enemy. I could at least understand and fight that. This demon is different. It is covert. It smiles. It pretends to be a friend, and successfully, so that no one will even rise to my defense. They just sometimes notice and share my embarrassment. The best trick is making me seem to be the bad one. The one who DESERVES this treatment. I EARN my humiliation by being different. I get the distinct feeling with this person that if I played 100% by the rules, I would be just as coddled as the others (though still considered broken, damaged, odd, etc.) - but I see this person needle and humiliate the others sometimes too. This person has a slight fear of losing them, but not me. I am not only utterly expendable, but due to my "condition in life", it would be GOOD for this family if I was gone. Not everyone treats me this way. The others seem to actually like me, and even if they don't completely understand me, I see them TRYING to build bridges. I do not feel uncomfortable, broken, unfortunate or evil around the others. I just feel that I am me and that's ok, and maybe even kinda' neat in some cases. There are blessing to count. I should find some more creative ways to deal with the Mean One, because I enjoy the others. If it weren't for my partner though, I would walk away from all of them for good, as I have done with 99% of my own family, because I promised myself I would never again put up with any kind of mistreatment just because "families are supposed to stick together." FUCK THAT. But here I am, doing just that, because the others are truly worth it, my partner most of all. It could be and has been worse.

Today is the one year anniversary of another Fun Holiday Incident. Last year, in the midst of recovering from a break-down and hospitalization (support your local Trauma Stabilization Centers!) I was at work in my office. My office was on one of the main streets of our quaint little town, right next door to (and belonging to) one of the oldest, most well-established business organizations in town. It was close to noon, the whole town was quiet on a sleepy, warm fall day. My office was closed to the front parking lot (to drown out the sound of lawn workers) but none of the dozen windows were covered, I was visible through all but the front two windows. I had little holiday candles burning in the windows of every room in the office. I had groceries keeping cool on the back deck, where there were also uncovered sliding glass doors right next to my desk. My remarkable vehicle was parked out front. It's a VERY small town, I've lived here more than a decade and have had the same vehicle for most of that time, and it has a vanity plate and other singular markings. Basically, due to my work, personality and appearance, everyone in town knows me. Nonetheless, without knocking, making a phone call, running my tags, looking in the windows, anything, two town police officers kicked in my door and pulled guns on me.
As I said, I had just come out of treatment for trauma. I was on a variety of prescriptions for anxiety, trying to cope with the mess my life was at the time, depressed, worried, paranoid - you name it. And as with many abuse victims, I have a terrible fear of the overwhelming power that police have, and for good reason. It is fair to say that my feeling regarding the police are phobic. When these two idiots burst in, I collapsed to the floor, then pulled myself together enough to ask what was wrong. They still, one year later, have not given me a logical explanation for this. I had no apology from them. They were not punished in any way. The incident was written off. Nobody cares what happens to weirdos. When I asked them if they had knocked and I hadn't heard them, the first one in (and still holding his gun on me) said "No. We LIKE to surprise people."

If I am crazy, then there's a reason. And if the SANE people are the ones humiliating and abusing others, and abusing their power to do so, then I'd rather be crazy.