When a child falls down the stairs.. (Dec. 10)
A family memory that is earlier than my own recollection is the day I feel down my grandma (dad's side)'s wooden stairs, as a very young toddler.
My father told the story over and over, which is why I know of it.
Apparently, I had been sleeping upstairs, when I woke up and found the stairs. Trying to descend, I tumbled down. It was the sort of “oh crap” moment that happens to parents. And fortunately no permanent harm was done.
However, their retelling of the story is interesting
My dad tells how (laughter brimming in his eyes) they were sitting there, enjoying themselves, when they heard “thump, thump, thump... wham!”
“And there you were!” (Ha ha...) “leaning upside down against the wall, on the landing of the stairs.”
Apparently he rushed to me, and snatched me up. Assuring mom all was well.
They used to joke that was why I had such a short neck (they used to say “no neck”) as a child. “You squashed it out in the fall!”
***
Now, I won’t judge them too harshly for the incident itself. Shit happens, and kids fall.
But, there are a number of things that are really off about their reaction:
1. They told the story as though I chose to fall down the stairs, causing the (imaginary) short neck, and (implicitly) disturbing their grown up time. But they were the ones that did the #parentfail. At 1.5-2 years of age...it wasn’t my fault there was no baby gate, that the door wasn't closed, etc. This is another symptom of the chronic problem: that my parents blamed me for getting hurt, even when I was hurt by their actions out inactions. That sense of blame, and the resulting shame, has been one of their most enduring effects on me.
2. My dad retells that story as a genuinely funny story. I don’t get that. I have had a few #parentfail moments of my own. I am deeply embarrassed and troubled by them. They have all made me parent differently (put up guards, gates, etc). I do not talk about them, and try not to think about them. They are the furthest thing from funny. I may need counselling for some of them. Times I have failed to protect my children are profoundly troubling to myself. Why was my father untroubled ? This is not normal. What was going on here? I suspect that his unnatural reaction flowed directly from his narcissism. He did not experience that event through the eyes of his young child. The other day, my son bumped his elbow on a table, and I instinctively said, “ouch.” My son hadn’t even really hurt himself: but my instinct was to feel the pain that I thought he felt. But my dad did not do that. His only experience of the event was: his mild inconvenience (being disturbed) and how funny I looked upside down. It is truly horrifying to think that a man could see their child upside down, not knowing if they were seriously injured or not, and their instinctual reaction was to think...they looked funny! This is not the thought process of a normal, healthy person.
3. This memory brings back other thoughts. They insisted on numerous derogatory descriptions of my body. My head was large. My neck was small. My shoulders were broad. I turned red easily. It was heavily implied (though too shameful to say) that I was quite overweight. My own children seem to look a lot like I did as a young child. I would describe my kids as, “big and strong for their age... healthy kids...robust...they look just like their dad (In a good sense).” It has never occurred to me to lampoon their physical appearances. When others have made comments, I have been very hurt and offended on their behalf, and sometimes stepped in.
...these behaviours were not normal, or healthy.
[Later reflection: As I reread this post, it makes me think of a movie I watched once, about a psychopath. A psychopath is not necessarily a murderer/terrible person. But they have no conscience whatsoever. And so they could murder a person without batting an eye.
In the episode, a person yawned excessively in front of a suspect. When they did not yawn back, then they knew for sure. Normal people will tend to yawn when they see others yawning: this is a natural symptom of seeing life through other people's eyes. But a sociopath will not do this. A sociopath only sees life through their eyes, and doesn't give a damn about anybody else, unless they serve them.
...and sometimes, being a sociopath makes one a very successful, well-liked person. Without a conscience, life can be much simpler.
But just don't you ever, ever cross a sociopath. Because they will destroy your life without batting an eye.
I have looked into narcissism. I wonder if I need to look into psychopathy, to further understand my father?]
My father told the story over and over, which is why I know of it.
Apparently, I had been sleeping upstairs, when I woke up and found the stairs. Trying to descend, I tumbled down. It was the sort of “oh crap” moment that happens to parents. And fortunately no permanent harm was done.
However, their retelling of the story is interesting
My dad tells how (laughter brimming in his eyes) they were sitting there, enjoying themselves, when they heard “thump, thump, thump... wham!”
“And there you were!” (Ha ha...) “leaning upside down against the wall, on the landing of the stairs.”
Apparently he rushed to me, and snatched me up. Assuring mom all was well.
They used to joke that was why I had such a short neck (they used to say “no neck”) as a child. “You squashed it out in the fall!”
***
Now, I won’t judge them too harshly for the incident itself. Shit happens, and kids fall.
But, there are a number of things that are really off about their reaction:
1. They told the story as though I chose to fall down the stairs, causing the (imaginary) short neck, and (implicitly) disturbing their grown up time. But they were the ones that did the #parentfail. At 1.5-2 years of age...it wasn’t my fault there was no baby gate, that the door wasn't closed, etc. This is another symptom of the chronic problem: that my parents blamed me for getting hurt, even when I was hurt by their actions out inactions. That sense of blame, and the resulting shame, has been one of their most enduring effects on me.
2. My dad retells that story as a genuinely funny story. I don’t get that. I have had a few #parentfail moments of my own. I am deeply embarrassed and troubled by them. They have all made me parent differently (put up guards, gates, etc). I do not talk about them, and try not to think about them. They are the furthest thing from funny. I may need counselling for some of them. Times I have failed to protect my children are profoundly troubling to myself. Why was my father untroubled ? This is not normal. What was going on here? I suspect that his unnatural reaction flowed directly from his narcissism. He did not experience that event through the eyes of his young child. The other day, my son bumped his elbow on a table, and I instinctively said, “ouch.” My son hadn’t even really hurt himself: but my instinct was to feel the pain that I thought he felt. But my dad did not do that. His only experience of the event was: his mild inconvenience (being disturbed) and how funny I looked upside down. It is truly horrifying to think that a man could see their child upside down, not knowing if they were seriously injured or not, and their instinctual reaction was to think...they looked funny! This is not the thought process of a normal, healthy person.
3. This memory brings back other thoughts. They insisted on numerous derogatory descriptions of my body. My head was large. My neck was small. My shoulders were broad. I turned red easily. It was heavily implied (though too shameful to say) that I was quite overweight. My own children seem to look a lot like I did as a young child. I would describe my kids as, “big and strong for their age... healthy kids...robust...they look just like their dad (In a good sense).” It has never occurred to me to lampoon their physical appearances. When others have made comments, I have been very hurt and offended on their behalf, and sometimes stepped in.
...these behaviours were not normal, or healthy.
[Later reflection: As I reread this post, it makes me think of a movie I watched once, about a psychopath. A psychopath is not necessarily a murderer/terrible person. But they have no conscience whatsoever. And so they could murder a person without batting an eye.
In the episode, a person yawned excessively in front of a suspect. When they did not yawn back, then they knew for sure. Normal people will tend to yawn when they see others yawning: this is a natural symptom of seeing life through other people's eyes. But a sociopath will not do this. A sociopath only sees life through their eyes, and doesn't give a damn about anybody else, unless they serve them.
...and sometimes, being a sociopath makes one a very successful, well-liked person. Without a conscience, life can be much simpler.
But just don't you ever, ever cross a sociopath. Because they will destroy your life without batting an eye.
I have looked into narcissism. I wonder if I need to look into psychopathy, to further understand my father?]
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