Blaming the Victim

I have an old high school friend that has kept in touch over the years.  We go many years between contact and then a flurry of phone calls for a long while.  Then a span of a few years without.  She was my BFF before there were BFFs.

When we were in high school, I suspected that her father was an alcoholic.  He was always back in his room when I was over, no socialization with us.  I have no idea why I thought so.  He was a kind man and I don’t remember ever smelling alcohol or seeing him what I considered drunk.  I had very little exposure to alcohol so I have no idea why I thought so.  But it was a true belief.  And his daughter inherited this addiction.

I always wondered if my friend had been drinking when she would call and have these long disjointed conversations, becoming argumentative before it was time to say good bye.  I am a pretty slow catcher-oner, I guess.  I just know that I would become uncomfortable after a while and those long spans of no contact were probably because I would begin to dread her calls.  I would never know if it was going to be a good catch-up-how-are-things call or an argumentative rambling call.  It was only recently–during a long rambling hour or more conversation listening to what a terrible mother she had been–that my suspicions were confirmed.  She told me that she was a drunk.  Those were her words.  She said she thought about changing but this is just how she was.  I listened.  It scared me.

She called me yesterday evening.  I saw her name on the phone and tried to think what to do…let it go to voice mail or answer it.  I put on a smile and answered it.  It started out as a good catch-up-how-are-things call.  We were laughing about something from back in high school and I said I didn’t remember much about southern California after I moved to Oregon, those years in there.  I said I didn’t want to remember much about the Grants Pass years and I choose not to remember much about my years with children’s father.  Her reply was laughing that it might be fun to remember him.  I just calmly said that I don’t want to remember the abuse.  She insisted there were many things to laugh about.  I said, "Oh yes!  Remember the time he punched me!"  Then said, noooooo I choose not to remember him.

That was when the conversation changed.  First she asked if what I said was really true, that he hit me.  We have talked about this many times over the years, but I confirmed it again.  Yes he hit me, belittled me, beat me down.  She asked how could I let this happen?  I was smart, she said.  I was the most together person she knew, she said.  I never allowed anyone to push me around when we were in high school, she said.  How could I let this happen?  I tried to explain the process of abuse, how if it is the only thing you hear you come to believe you are nothing, worthless.  That trying to talk to my parents was no support because they could not believe he–that anyone out there–took out his anger and frustrations on me.  So with no support and a constant treatment of worthlessness, it was ripe for physical abuse.

I was trying to be reasonable.  My friend is bright and so I thought she could understand.  But she continued to ask me how I could let this happen.  "You could have told him to stop!  You could have told him to get out!  You could have brought it back to his worthlessness!"  I finally just said, "Yes, I could have."  I had no where else to go but agree with her because I–too late–realized she was drinking.

I could have said, "Wow I have not heard anyone in my life for years and years turn this horrendous behavior into blaming the victim."  I could have told her I found her remarks offensive.  I could have said, "This wasn’t about you.  It was about me."  I could have simply hung up at that time.  But I still thought if I could just explain the moments of those times, she would understand.  And all the while I did and still have to keep reminding myself that I should not blame the victim in abuse as well.

I am a strong, intelligent, gentle giant of a person.  I have no doubt that I can do just about anything I think is important.  I think of myself as a doer, completer, helper.  I believe I know about relationships; I teach about relationships.  And yet there is so much I don’t understand about the dynamics of our relationships out there.  I don’t know how to get off the phone with my friend when she is rambling and argumentative.  I don’t know how to respond to people who want a simple explanation to bad behavior.  I don’t know how to address especially rude behavior.  And I am just not sure how to deal with the emotions that I am left with following such conversations as I had last night.

And so it goes.
peace~~~