All Humans Suffer

This post has been in draft form since July 8, 2005...

ORIGINAL:

Although Rachel might love me, she doesn’t like me. She doesn’t respect me. If I encounter people in my life who don’t like me or respect me, I may continue to love them, but I minimize activities such as contacting them, caring for them, helping them, or even thinking about them much. Today — July 8, 2005 — I will try to begin to do the same with respect to Rachel: to let go of my deepest bonds of love and concern for her. She doesn’t want to love me or be close to me.

Here are words that Rachel uses to describe me:

- unstable
- mean
- scary
- evil
- psychopath

- borderline
- manipulative
- selfish
- bitch

These loaded words are used carelessly, and accompany the lies Rachel tells to propagate her story, which begins: “Hello, I’m Rachel Grossman, and I hate my mother.” By doing this, she will please her paternal aunt and grandmother, and continue to operate in her psychological comfort zone (where she’s been trained to be part of a triangle of uncomfortable family relations, in which nearly all praise and attention was earned when she dishonored me — her mother, the one who provided consistent love, attention, care, and protection — the only one who always put Rachel first). No wonder she’s so negative, self-sabotaging, and depressed!

I’m not sure why I demean myself in response to Rachel’s treatment of me, but I don’t want to do it any more. All of my friends, including those most fond of Rachel, have advised me to stop doing anything for her, and to stop “sucking her ass.”

(perhaps these quotations are enlightening:

“The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.”
- Honore De Balzac, 1799-1850, French Novelist

“A mother who is really a mother is never free.”
- Honore De Balzac, 1799-1850, French Novelist)

UPDATE:

Reading this draft today, nineteen years later, I now exist on a plateau of detachment, nearly indifference. I do not think about Rachel very often (today is rare, and triggered by reports of someone reading nearly every post in this blog).

To my knowledge, Rachel continues to fortify her mendacious stories. I doubt that she is able to work out her own attachment issues — issues that will continue to plague her throughout her life, and will harm any and every one of her relationships. She has rewritten history (and amplified her rewrites with each retelling) such that her distorted and false memories of very specific situations and conditions are seared into her persona. The fundamental reasons for her feelings and behaviors continue to be unrecognized. Rachel has buried her early trauma — of neglect and subsequent abandonment by her birth mother — under a mendacious mountain of fallacious tales about me. From around age 18, new personality patterns emerged that were instigated and fueled by her Aunt Patty, and Rachel began reacting to discomfort with hysteria, disproportional anger, and irrational accusations. Before that time such reactions never occurred, but Patty’s and Nanny’s alienation efforts reignited the reactive attachment disorder that I had worked diligently with her to overcome. 

As Rachel approaches her fourth decade, her “mother issues” continue to be easily triggered. It is sad that she cannot recognize — and has never come to terms with — their actual source.

I have accepted that this will never change.

Today’s Thought

 

Mommy

Between May of 1987 and May of 1988, I became a regular caretaker for Peter’s 18-month old baby girl.

May 1987 in Stow, Massachusetts

 

On July 1, Peter and Rachel moved into a new apartment in Brookline, and Peter was able to enroll Rachel in a pre-school called Copper Beech that was near their new home. After several days at Copper Beech, Rachel began addressing Peter as “mommy,” presumably because all of the other children had mothers who participated in the classroom and she heard the term used often. Her vocabulary was fairly limited; no one taught her words and colors, etc. until I started taking care of her, but she caught on quickly. After about a month in Brookline, Rachel spoke her first phrase as we were mobilizing to leave for dinner: “ready to go?”

Whenever Rachel called Peter “mommy,” he became annoyed and would retort, “I’m not mommy, I am daddy.” After a few such rejections, Rachel tried calling me mommy. I tried to be gentle and loving in response, but told her “I’m not mommy, I’m Carol.”

Fast forward to August of 1988. Peter and I agreed to build a committed relationship. I had moved to San Francisco and found a beautiful apartment for us. When Peter and Rachel arrived, we sat down together to talk about our changed circumstance. I told Rachel that I wanted to be her new mommy if she wanted me, and that she could call me mommy. She assumed a proprietary attitude, took my hand and then hugged me. From that moment on, we became a family of sorts.

October 1988 in San Francisco, California

 

But an early warning that foretold of problems in our family took place soon thereafter: Peter began to tell Rachel that she could call him “mommy.” I was dumbfounded, but assumed that he was feeling a bit threatened by how quickly Rachel pivoted to needing and wanting me. He and I had agreed contractually, before moving in together, about certain principles and responsibilities in child-rearing. I was asked to take charge of the potty training, which was actually very easy. Rachel was ready. But then, Peter started to tell her that she could pee her pants! When she was undressed, he told her it was okay to pee on the floor!

These initial family scenes set the stage for years of undermining. There were so many times I just wanted to leave, out of utter frustration with Peter’s behavior. But I always felt that it would have destroyed Rachel’s fragile psyche to be abandoned yet again. So I stayed and did my best.

But as we know, my best was not good enough.
 

Thirty-five

On this day in 1987, we celebrated Rachel’s second birthday. Several months earlier, I had made a commitment to transform my life and responsibilities so that I could help Peter take care of her.

I was 35 years old that year. I embarked on an unforeseen detour in my life so that I could try to save an abandoned and neglected little girl.

Now it’s too late to second guess that unfortunate decision. I saved Rachel, only to be abused, betrayed, and derided for it.

I'm grateful that I was able to take responsibility for raising Rachel, suffer through her malignant mendacity, survive that devastating experience, and rebuild a good and loving life.

Decluttering

As I once again revisit the emotional detritus of the past fifteen years, I've made a commitment to myself to publish many more documents and emails between Patty Grossman and her friends, her mother (Carol Z. Klein), and her niece -- my adopted daughter -- Rachel.

My previous post is the beginning of this renewed effort to declutter on to the world wide web, where it will remain in perpetuity (or close enough). Some of the materials will be posted on other blogs or websites, but eventually I'll make a comprehensive index to all of it -- and I will consider my emotional decluttering complete!

In the past few years, I’ve added a dear friend to my life. Kim and I have traveled together successfully, and shared a variety of personal and social times together. During one visit to Honolulu, Kim learned my story of what happened with Rachel. Kim, a field social worker and educator, looked at me and said “you are suffering from PTSD.” I hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. My emotional being has suffered tremendously, with some scarring that is permanent.

Tonight I read this blog post. It’s not 100% applicable to me, but I could easily modify it so that it tells my specific story:

HOW AN ADOPTIVE MOM BECOMES THE NURTURING ENEMY

(similar sites here and here)

In fact, I intend to modify it to reflect what happened in our family. Then I will share my version with the original authors.

Last year, our friend Greg suggested that I might be happier if I destroy all the evidence I collected for seven years, evidence that unambiguously documents precisely how evil and ill-intended Patty Grossman's actions and intentions were (and undoubtedly, still are). My response to him, with which he concurred, was that if I destroy the emails and other evidence nobody would believe me. How could anyone behave so abysmally, intent on destroying family? It’s inconceivable to my friends and family, and to all well-intended people!

For two nights, I haven’t slept well, and last night I sat up, turned on lights, and wrote down these words. Now, I know what to do.

Typical Aunt Patty

From: Kitty M

To: Patty Grossman
Subject:    Re: Hiya
Date:    Nov 25, 2005 12:41 PM


on 11/25/05 12:39 PM, Patricia Grossman wrote:
>
> Pretty rough over this way. Exhausting day, mostly emotionally. H's family
> and their guests were fun for us, but of course not easy for poor
> Rachel who didn't know anyone. She was polite but also fell glum. A little
> better behavior would've been appreciated, but I think it was really rough for her
> and hopefully everyone cut her slack. She started crying on the train on the way
> there and I finally got it out of her that she was afraid to have a family and
> that her mother would turn her children against her.
>
> Then when we got home and went over some old family pictures it got
> worse.  Lots of crying and professions of utter despair and Helene and I did
> the best we could to help her balance between the bleak reality of her family
> situation and giving her honest hopes for her future. The whole time she was
> clinging to a picture of her dad holding her as a baby. She so loves him and
> told us she likes it when he teases her and calls her "asswipe" (As in don't
> be an asswipe), because then he's treating her as an equal and showing his
> brand of affection. She had no idea there was anything insufficient about
> this. (I didn't take too heavy an approach of telling her it was hardly ideal because
> if I totally undermine his ultra-pathetic - to put it mildly - means of relating to
> her she will have zero.) And of course she railed about Carol and her fear of the
> "the next attack." And how obsessed Carol is by me and what vile things she
> says. (I didn't ask what, natch.) She can't go home for Xmas because she
> doesn't want to risk it.

Oh this all sounds so sad!  That poor girl.  Carol just sounds like a
monster--she is so cruel to be doing this to Rachel.  That took real self
control not to ask what was said about you.  And of course it doesn't
matter. The source is poisoned beyond repair. Where will she go for Xmas?
>
> Helene and I went to bed exhausted and heartbroken.

Of course you were...How could you not be? How are things today? What did
you do, either with or without her?
>
> That's the perky news from this end. Surely yours is better! Thank
> you for your cyber-ear.

ANY time...

xoxoxoxox
>
> xxo
>
>>
>>

Patty: even more odious than she appears to be!

From: KM
To: Patty Grossman
Subject:    Re: Hiya
Date:    Nov 25, 2005 4:23 PM


on 11/25/05 8:48 PM, Patricia Grossman wrote:
>
> She says she just wants to work in Ann Arbor and make money for Xmas. I told her
> she should go down to N.C. and see my mother for a couple of days and
> that H. and I would be there right after Xmas. But hopefully she'll
> end up going home with one of her friends.

That might be best.  Will your brother wonder why she isn't coming home?

> This morning I went over her short story with her (she has to keep working on
> it to get into a creative writing "sub. con." (sub concentration). Her writing
> has an occasional spark, but mostly is just awful-all of it. I was encouraging but I keep
> telling her not to think of it as a living.  Then I let her go out and explore Manhattan
> on her own, armed with directions and a map. That worked out pretty well.
> When she came back H. and I took her to Tempo. (I thought of calling you to
> see if you'd drop by, but figured you'd be busy.)

That sounds nice. I probably would have come by.

> She told us Peter is no longer speaking to Greg, his best friend of many years. I said
> I wasn't that surprised. (He's a lawyer and when Peter and Carol were breaking up
> they were trying to get him to broker the financial arrangement--how stupid is
> THAT?) So then she said if he got rid of Greg and of me, it was just a matter of time
> before he got rid of her.
>
> I told her it would never happen, she was the only thing he was really proud
> of. But how do I know? If only she knew how not worth the effort he is. . . .

This just gets sadder and sadder.  Does he talk to her about you?  (Apart
from Carol's venom that is)  I so understand her worries about that. And as
not worth it as he is, he's still her father and that bond is hard to
shatter. Believe me, I'm one who knows all about continuing to love an
unworthy parent.

>
> She's leaving mid-day tomorrow. I'm embarrassed to admit what a relief that will be.
>
xoxoxo
>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>
>>


From: KM
To: Patty Grossman
Subject:    Re: Hiya
Date:    Nov 26, 2005 3:40 AM

on 11/25/05 11:17 PM, Patricia Grossman wrote:


> If he does, he's even more out of his mind than I thought.

But still, doesn't he miss her, want to see her?

This just gets sadder and sadder.  Does he talk to her about you?

>No, I haven't talked to him in over two years, remember?

Of course I remember. I just wondered if he—apart from Carol—ever
spoke about you Rachel.
> I know, I know, but for the few minutes I was writing this I forgot!! What
> a narcissistic asshole! I'm sorry.

You are not a narcissistic asshole and never will be.  :-)  I know you
didn't forget, it's just that you are so—understandably—worried about
her, about the effect his rejection will ultimately have.

> I can't help but hope it doesn't turn out the same way--especially because she essentially
> has no mother. So she might not turn out as well as you did.

But she had you and Helene.  And it seems that given all that's
happened, she's turning out pretty well, don't you think?

[I must interject here to reflect the irony that Patty and Helene were never part of Rachel’s life until she was seventeen years old. Before that, Helene spent no more than ten days (over seventeen years) with Rachel, and Patty spent no more than twenty days with Rachel -- over the course of seventeen years! There is one and only one person who can be given credit for how “she’s turning out pretty well, don’t you think?” That person is me.]

> xoxoxo

xoxoxo

Estranged & Broken Relationships

Is there a resolution for estranged and broken relationships?

Since late 2002, with a few breaks, I’ve lived with “invisible grief,” disenfranchised from conducting a normal family life. By “normal family life,” I do not mean an idealized life, just the usual up and down but decent family life.

It is difficult to explain my consuming and pervasive inner grief to friends, who’ve often met Rachel and gained a negative impression, and who assume that I can’t possibly love her as much as a biological mother could love her child. Peter is unable to discuss it at all; he will not involve himself. He and I have an agreement that Rachel is not mentioned between us. So I don’t share my grief. It has muted with time, as though Rachel died. I know that I will never have a relationship with her again.

Sadly, the daughter I raised with love and respect turned against me, and is unable to control the attention-seeking lies that she concocted with her Aunt Patty Grossman's encouragement and direct suggestions. Poor Rachel continues to embellish and share her stories. A victim of reactive attachment disorder, Rachel has been a compulsive liar since early childhood. She and I worked (with behind the scenes help from my therapist) to overcome the lying (and other RAD behaviors), but the “alienation-causing intervention” by Aunt Patty when Rachel was around age 17 explosively ignited all of Rachel’s early neglect, abandonment, and attachment issues.

I also can understand how easily, with such encouragement and actual suggestions from Aunt Patty, Rachel aimed her long-buried, pre-verbal rage at the only mother she knew.

Without hesitation, I can assert that Rachel and I developed a fully functional “heart-to-heart” connection that grew consistently from the time I appeared regularly in her life, when she was 18 months old, until the time I became her step-mother when she was 2 years 9 months old, and then far more solidly and securely from that point until her late teens. Rachel and I experienced predictable ups and downs during those teen years, and she long resented that I sent her to boarding school for grades 9 through 12 (once at university, though, she thanked me for it). During times of trouble, when she misbehaved, I made clear that I was angry about behavior, but that I would always love her no matter what. Despite the paucity of information about RAD until the late 1990s, my therapist did instill in me the importance of reminding Rachel that no matter how much she pushed me away I would never leave her, and that I always will love her no matter what.

I adopted Rachel shortly after she turned eighteen, as it hadn't been possible before then. Peter and Rachel had planned the adoption as a surprise Christmas gift for me, but Peter discovered that I was required to initiate the adult adoption. Concurrently, coinciding with Rachel’s eighteenth birthday, Peter’s family had escalated their alienation efforts with sharp focus against me. I will never understand why, because the person hurt even more than I is Rachel. The Grossman family is destroyed. Patty Grossman, her partner Helene Kendler, and Peter's mother Carol Z. Klein formed an alliance to separate me from Rachel and Peter. It didn't work with Peter, but poor Rachel is now saddled not only with reactive attachment disorder but also parental alienation from the one person who literally saved her. Perhaps it provides the makings of a new novel for Patty. Otherwise, I can't fathom the rationale. No matter what — even if I actually had been the monster they created in order to scare Rachel away — this isn't appropriate family interaction.  Parental Alienation is wrong. Normal family members would find loving ways to help a child deal with a monster parent.

I continue to “move on,” find joy, create loving bonds and enjoyable experiences, but I have lost my daughter. That grief is imbued in me.