pretty lies vs the ugly truth

On the surface my parents were two lovely, popular people who appeared to be upstanding citizens. Because of my DID, until April of last year, I believed that mostly and was only aware of the tip of a massive iceberg of physical, emotional and sexual abuse from them, a grandfather, and possibly others. I'm now also aware that my three sisters were abused and at least one of them is dissociative about it all, though sometimes will aggressively guard against any acknowledgment of the extent of the abuse.

I'm currently staying in my recently deceased mother's home, for which I've taken over the mortgage for internal reasons I barely understand and can't fully justify. The aggressively-dismissive-of-abuse sister happens to be staying here as well. Child abuse, particularly from people like my parents, is not something people in small Midwestern towns like this like to talk about. I don't mind telling people here about what happened to me, including the DID. I have no idea if I would ever actually want to move back here. I guess I'm torn internally, since there's more than one of me voting nowadays.

What continues to confuse me is my role is sharing the truth of my experience with people who either passively or actively prefer the pretty lies over the ugly truth. I have context for what happened and to some extent I understand why my parents did what they did. Both were abused and both became dissociative, my mother with DID, my father probably with at least DDNOS. The abuse happened many decades ago and the abusers in my family are mostly dead. Some of other extended family members, however, are still alive so aggressive disclosure of my experience could uncover this.

I find myself obsessed with righting this wrong somehow. As if to confirm that for me, writing this caused me to experience a repeated strange body memory that seems linked to this emotion. So the need for justice feels written into my body. I cannot simply let go of trying to fix this, not just for me but for the others, including my sisters who all seem unable to face most of the abuse. The need to fix this feels part of my recovery. I want the truth, no matter how ugly it was, to replace the pretty lies we all seem to have conspired to create. I believe that holding on to the lies continues to keep the damage anchored in each of us.

I might advise someone in my position to let this go, at least for the time being. But letting go of it feels like death to me, the death of my soul. I need to find a therapist with whom I can work on this (I'm not sure about my current one) and in the meantime I should admit there will be no short-term solution. It feels like one of those quintessentially me/us things and my alters concur it is strong and cannot be placated or wiped away.

Surely I'm not alone in this feeling. Does anyone have any suggestions for dealing with what I guess I describe as the need for truth to prevail, the need for justice?

This is an interesting thread and thank you for posting it. I've read your post a few times now and have been reflecting.

My thoughts on this bring me to more questions. What is truth? What is justice? How will justice be served?

With the main abusers gone, can there really be justice or would the truth be its own justice? And what about perception? If other people saw your parents as upstanding members of society, they will have trouble believing what happened behind closed doors. Everyone knows to some extent that child abuse happens but no one wants to discuss it. That would mean discussing what happened to them, to their children. It would be an open discussion on how our society as a whole needs to stop hurting our children and start respecting them.

How many times have you heard growing up "respect your elders"? Why? Why should children respect those that hurt them? "Obey thy mother and thy father." Why? To avoid punishment?

Society is ###$! Just plain ###$!

With society in denial, what would the people that believed your parents to be good people make of it? Some may believe you, some may just ignore it. Yet there will be others out there that will label you as a liar- maybe even your own sister who is unable to face the truth in her own life.

So this boils down to what do you hope to gain? I don't think justice is possible. That would mean punishing the ones that hurt you, but to get to heart of the matter, you would have to punish the ones that hurt them. It's a generational problem. I think the greatest justice is saying "the cycle stops here," and meaning it. To face our own demons and walk away stronger. To promise to not pass down the cycle of abuse to next generation.

Justice can also come from living by example. By being happy despite the pain. By holding our heads high despite how many times we had to cower.

There is truth and there is perspective. The truth is undeniable but perspective is what people believe because that is what they see. Most people don't see the truth because at their cores they don't want to know. They want to go on pretending that everything is fine.

Look at the typical American greeting... "how are you?" There are a few standard answers that can be summed up as "good" or "I'm well" and then you ask the same of them. What if people started to really answer that question honestly. The majority wouldn't know what to do. "How are you?" "Well, not well. I've been dealing with my past and my parents were abusive." "Um, um, um."

Most people aren't equipped to handle the truth. We are programed to pretend everything is okay for the sake of appearance. Anyone who deviates from that image is judged and labeled. It's a sad world where people deny truth and only pay attention to the pretty little lies.

I've rambled. Sorry.

This boils down to, what to you plan to do, what do you hope to gain, and what are your chances realistically of having those goals met? Will there ever be validation and complete healing after a life of pain.

On a side note, JJ, I watched a movie recently and this thread has me thinking about it. You may enjoy it. It's called "Tree of Life" and it has Sean Penn in it I think. I got it from Redbox. It was a little triggering, but if you haven't seen it, you may benefit from watching it. It is about a man who is around 40-50 years old making peace with his childhood abuse and the death of his brother. It is an emotional movie but it certainly has an uplifting message.

Hi, JJ. Hope the trip is going OK since we last talked. How much longer are you there?

Well, you know, from a certain standpoint that I myself am invested in the lies. I am invested in them, because they are basically my genesis, my raison d'etre, in our system. But, not everybody inside is like that.

River wants the sort of justice you talk about. So does my Poet whose name is not allowed on here for some reason, though she is more easily confused by the invalidation than he is. The younger ones can insist on truth, as their reality hadn't been twisted quite so much or often. I wish I could think of a way to offer it to them without hurting so many people and isolating me from those I love even more. I don't know if I could do that. It is so interesting to read your post, because I wrote recently in my journal something that links our invalidation tendency, the self-negating rules by which we operate, and this sense of justice. I was writing stream of consciousness to my T to try to explain the rules:

If the rules are harsh, when there is pain, it feels like justice. That is what I was trying to express to you earlier. The rules we made inside are partially a way of making injustice just, because it is better than suffering the grief of unfairness and violation over and over again.

These are the rules you've come to know that I am wrong, I am bad, I have misunderstood or misled or exaggerated or manipulated or some other awful thing...they are the rules that say I am not human, do not deserve to feel, am not allowed to need, am an imposition to the world through existing. Basically, everything under the sun that undermines and invalidates every aspect of my being.

So, I think even those who prefer the pretty lies (or maybe not prefer them, but choose them out of terror of how unsafe it would be otherwise) have a drive for justice inside. But, instead of following through on it, their fear causes them to have to warp reality, the definition of self (inhuman, less than, undeserving) and the definition of the world around them (right, good, true, "moral" you have heard me describe someone) in order to make "justice" work. So, I think that everyone wants justice. You are just (as you know) very, very brave to not take the route that continues to abuse yourself and your alters in order to get it. I am not so brave. I am just very scared and I can't seem to stop being scared. I can't even stop it enough to tell T or you or others who will never do anything to expose or hurt these people without needing to retract. Even not confronting them directly, it is still too scary for me.

I'm sorry if this is not helpful or relatable, but your post made me think, so I wanted to reply. I'm sorry those outside you are so invalidating of what really happened. You are very courageous to face that. I know a major factor in my need to do that to myself is hearing it from the outside, that it's wrong or not true or I'm exaggerating, etc...hearing it like I did for years and years, is so painful it feels like I won't survive it. I can't imagine it's easy.

No. You are not alone Johnny-Jack. While I was reading this post I was reminded about my own family's belief system & how it is similar to your family's. My parents were also abused as children & they, likewise, passed it on to me & my 5 sisters. Although each one of our lives are littered with paths of proof of things gone wrong, none of my sisters think that either parent is short of a saint.

My father has recently passed. During the 23 years prior to his death, I had written him 6 times, at length, asking that we attempt to reconcile our past. Never once did he answer. I refused to go to the funeral, but at the visitation (I needed to see him D***) my sisters, my mom & I reunited altogether for the 1st time in 25 years. I thought that maybe this would be a start to heal & get closure for the past & start a healthy relationship going forward. Three of my sisters still to this day have dismissed all claims that Dad & Mom were abusive to me. The other 2 think something might have happened but they couldn’t imagine what nor will they talk about it with me. I have not told them as yet about the extending familial abuses.

At the visitation, two of my sisters started an argument insisting that I was disowning them bc I requested that my name be removed from his obituary. I felt as though he didn't deserve to have me listed as his daughter bc he was never my father. My sisters felt that if I feel that way then I had to disown them as well. I chose to leave & I drove the 15 hours back home with a heavy heart.

Over the next several sessions with T we talked about what I needed to do for me. I ended up writing & sending a very lengthy letter to all sibs & to mom. I told them that I deeply desire our reconciling. With my T's help, we wrote an exceptional, non-threatening, informative letter that I felt was certain to be well received. And, I put a copy of each of the 6 letters that I wrote to my dad in each letter that I sent. There was nothing left that I could have done & yet nothing has changed since the letter was sent almost a year ago.

I emotionally washed my hands of them but the internal struggle never really goes away bc we still want to be loved & accepted - and believed. BTW it’s been a couple of weeks since my mom received my answer to her self-invite to my home for a week long visit. I did say yes, but that it was conditional - she'd have to come to T & fess up. Another chance at reconciling totally ignored.

What has helped me through all of the denial that my family still clings to is something that my T has said, which I included in the letters as well. He told me that I represent a view of dad that they do not want to accept, one that causes some of them to harbor anger & resentment towards me. Also, that it is entirely understandable & expected that I pose a threat to them bc if they fully accept me & my reports of child sexual abuse, then they must also explore the possibility that their own childhood memories may be inaccurate.

So, I continue on without the support of my sibs. They would rather live with the pretty lies than to validate the pain of their own flesh & blood & that of their own. I understand it & can accept it but only bc of what my T had said. I just refuse to be around them much at all – a phone call on a birthday perhaps, or maybe for another funeral. Cold, yes, but enough is enough sometimes, that’s all. They know how to reach me if they have a change of heart. Nobody though can say how much is enough for you.

As far as justice goes, no. I’m not here to judge. They’ll get theirs in the end.

What would justice look like?

In my own family the ugly truth goes back generations, and it was hardly a secret. Those who abused and neglected me were themselves abused and neglected. If justice involves blaming and shaming, whom should I blame and shame? Unlike me now, in their time as parents of young children my parents and their parents and their parents had nowhere to go and no experts to turn to for help, no self-help books to read, no support groups, no therapy treatment guidelines. So much has changed in the last few decades alone. I know what "help" my parents were given because it was all they were able to give me: they were told Put it out of your mind, forget about it, pretend it didn't happen, pretend you aren't ruined and disgusting filth, conceal and deny that anything is wrong with you or anyone else in your family. That is the best you can do.

Well no, actually, that isn't the best I can do. Far from it. For one thing, I don't feel in the least ruined or disgusting. I have problems, but everyone has problems of some kind. No one is perfect. And my problems come with gifts. Gifts such as empathy, compassion, awareness, knowledge, power.

I'm sorry you have to go back to your old home.

I understand that desire to have just some sense of justice. It's horrible what they do. To some, living a lie is better than the hard truth. It's madness really.

But I gave up on any chance of it, kinda like letting it go. I didn't like how it kept me tied to her, or anyone else in my family. Upon further introspect, how would I define it? Nothing I thought of gave me any sense of justice. How does one get justice from a soulless, hollow, sadist?

I understand how letting go of the sense of justice feels like death. I felt the same way. I'm not sure why, but when I realized for me at least, there will never be any justice, they will never change, never feel empathy, remorse, responsibility, compassion, all the things I say make us human. Nothing on earth, heaven or hell with give me any justice. I think my hope died or something. My parents died that day. My sisters soon there after(except one who had gone batty a while ago).

I do know, the only thing I had growing up was laughing at the pain, the insanity. The only way I was able to get back at my mom for her abuse was to stay strong, not submit, not beg for mercy, to her at least, me being happy was her torture! So the only way I can find justice is by healing, and living well.
((Big Safe Hugs))

I just wanted to offer up one analogy my T gave me regarding abusers who are either unavailable (deceased for example) or uncaring (no chance for reconciliation). It was cathartic for me, but simple. My T understood (as you do) that the abuse was generational...that these people did not have great coping techniques, therapy, etc. She said it like this.."I'm going to use something that sounds silly, but just try it.... You deserved $1.00. If that represents the love, care, nurturing, etc that you should have got as a child in their care - that's what you deserved. you NEEDED $1.00.... and all they had to give was 50 cents...and maybe, just maybe, they even withheld 20 cents of that because they were scared to give you everything they had.... so...they gave you the best they could...which was 30 cents. It was not even close to what you needed and certainly so much less than what you deserved. But that was all they had the means and ability to give.

It does not change the LONG process of healing I've had to go through. BUT...has allowed me to be somewhat compassionate about their broken-ness...And maybe some will say "but look at you - you didn't pass it on to the next generation..they had Choices they could have made differently" - but i've had the opportunities they haven't. More tools. I've had good insurance to stick with therapy....I've had good people as friends and coworkers to show me another way to be, to aspire to.... and regardless....at least I got that validation that it wasn't really me...I wasn't really WHY they did it. It was them. And it mattered. To hear it from someone else. And it seems simple. And maybe intellectually, you already know this...but it is affirming to hear. You, dear one, Deserved and needed - safety, nurturing, love... and I'm so very sorry - that they not only did NOT give you what you deserved and needed...but they TOOK from you as well.

You are clearly a very bright person and I'm so glad you have found this board to share....I haven't been here long, but it has been a total blessing in my life. They are really good people here and I hope that you get the responses you need to help you through this! Take care!

Further development on this issue for me. About a month ago I sent a long email to my three sisters telling what happened to me in childhood, what both parents and a grandfather did, in sufficient detail to leave no further doubt. As I expected, my oldest sister, who is in auto-denial, did not reply and I doubt she'll contact me again, which is my preference. Having to deal with her irrational outlook is upsetting, especially now I realize she was behind the most aggressive denial in our family, not my mother.

My youngest sister tried in her own way to understand, but she didn't experience or see the worst of the abuse. She kept using the words "split personality" and made assumptions based apparently on what she's seen in movies instead of learning about it or listening to what I had described to her. She even used the phrase "I believe that you believe all this happened." Trying to prove all this further to her was possible, she admitted it explained some family behavior to her, but her distrust is just too triggering for me. So I asked her not to contact me again. Surface pleasantries between us that avoid (continue to deny) all the underlying stuff is just toxic for me and I can't do it. My third sister, who endured a great deal of abuse like me, has reached out and we'll see how that goes. I suspect she retains some denial herself but is at least interested in dialog.

It's done. I told the ugly truth in some detail. It's out there and I can't take it back. Immediately after I sent the email, Carter went into a long, painful emotional tailspin, crying and shaking that "we told, we weren't supposed to, they're going to get us, we did a bad thing" and the like. I feel like a weight has been lifted to some extent and I have felt both better and worse about it all since then. Ultimately the choice may not save us, but it didn't destroy us either and I don't think it destroyed my sisters, even though I have no doubt each of them is in some denial.

One of my goals was to ensure they had some basic facts about the family. I believe that two, maybe all three, have a dissociative disorder, and they may at some point need to seek therapeutic help. At least they won't be starting from scratch.

I just wanted to say that that was a very powerful and hopefully healing thing you did there. I'm happy for you and you should be proud of the strength you and your system has shown in going through with it. Wish you the best of luck going forward!

- Nin

John, you know enough of my story (parts of it I do not share here) to know that I know where you are coming from. And I am so terribly well read. You are having a normal survivor response to release the shame and rage and all the other walled off feelings that you have stored up over a lifetime. So many of those feelings aren't even your own, but are "carried" from your parents. Our parents "gift" us with re-enactments of their trauma, with them playing the perpetrator/persecutor role so we can take their place as victim.

Seeing the drama triangle for what it is, is one way to step out of the endless cycle around it from one role to the next. The triangle has 3 roles: victim, perpetrator/persecutor, rescuer. Victim is on the bottom; the others are on top. Telling our stories can be a way to stay on top of the triangle in the persecutor or rescuer role, but ultimately we need to altogether free ourselves from it, exit from it. That means getting to a place in our own recovery where we can stop playing any role including rescuer.

Wikipedia: Karpman drama triangle