My writing and incremental back ups were stolen and the remaining copies shat on. Apparently I’m supposed to work for free while some petulant, impatient child steals credit.
No.
No one has permission to use my writing including my backed up work.
Microsoft does not have permission to absorb my words.
I own all copyright to everything she stole from me.
That’s not changing until I give permission to a publishing house to borrow my work. It ends? Copyright goes back to me.
I have publicly stated the one exception- my creed. I hope to god she learns to live up to it.
The frequent minor issues of contention were so small compared to the abuse that he didn’t affect her. But to Toad every disagreement counted, even the ones that didn’t so much as raise a flicker of the brow. Or perhaps trying to include them was its own lie, meant to make her feel argumentative instead of simply not being a pushover – not even when kept alive by a votive.
She just thought him over dramatic.
You will see quite a lot of missed marks in this piece, some sickening, some outright hilarious. There is dark pleasure to be had that Sylvanna was too independent to care deeply about his views on her.
He made her anxious and unable to drop her guard. But she had been raised to be her own tower. It was instilled into Sylvanna from childhood that if any are to fear her strength, let her be terrifying. Not a bad start for a satirist. But if you are frightened off her, try fucking with the rest of the family! She’s the cuddly one! (No really she is).
She also had an advantage. A relative had fought and forgotten his words before. And reached for what seemed reasonable. Sylvanna would forgive the individual, but it meant Sylvanna had practice holding on to the truth. This can’t have been easy when it came to attempts at gaslighting.
Now there’s an understatement.
Should you have been lucky enough to have survived a Trump presidency without learning about it[1], Gaslighting, is trying to make the victim(s) feel at fault – usually by trying to convince the involved parties they are sick or ill – in particular crazy. Sometimes – more typically directed at men – that he is the bully.
It is the tool of the cruel, the cowards and the predators – pretty heinous when done to sane people. To twist around an already mentally ill person is a disgusting, vile act only the depraved would attempt. Yet Toad worked every angle he could like a con man on a street hustle. Particularly using the illness.
Unfortunately for him Sylvanna solved puzzles faster than he could craft them – once she was aware enough to start asking questions.[2]
Let us begin where Toad did. As soon as they moved in together.
At first, he did not push her to fury. As mentioned, Proto-abuse is a sneaky affair of testing boundaries and breaking them. But even when he didn’t ignite the dragon, Sylvanna would end up crying on the phone to her mother – because a barb had cut deeply.
He’d interrupt. He never said those things. Oh no. She was hallucinating.
Yes. He said that. Just to avoid any potential sign he had done something he shouldn’t.
His ego was that important. His necessity for a perception of perfection entirely entrenched. His lust for control so uncontrolled itself. He lied about a psychotic symptom to her face – scared of what would happen if he didn’t.
She was vulnerable and frightened herself. She had lived with her mother for six years. Her identity had only just started to gel. In the name of the Lugh, she had only really started to recover from treatment seven months earlier. She had faced the world with bravery while first pursuing him. And now was mixed with shrinking back, but still clawing at a better life.
Worse? Shadows moved and ants appeared where there were none. Visual glitches meant she doubted her senses. And he knew it.
So she believed him.
She felt haunted by new symptoms and terrified he would last. She stopped eating, and bent further inwards and became very, very ill. Doubts ignited from this period, while clearly resolved in factual content, continued to plague her until she actually did have auditory hallucinations.
Not just her name in an empty house (though that too). But partially heard conversations filled in by her fears. There are three important differences when you pop your head in through the door to check what was really said.
There was not a single barb.
The individuals being checked on are not expecting it,
Nor what you heard. It’s news to them.
Toad was never. Not once. Not at all, surprised by her reaction. He wasn’t confused that she thought he could say such a thing. He wasn’t compassionate and soothing, explaining what he really said.
He lied.
So she went up on medication.
Do you know what happens if you take too much anti-psychotic? You get worse.
An individual who doesn’t need it will start to show symptoms – the sane will lose their sanity till he stop taking it.
Sylvanna, for quite a number of years, thought it was just a cover-up. He was just that weak and vein. She did not understand it went deeper, more twisted. It kept her ill and thus in theory pliable. But it stopped working.
She seeped herself in facts as a barricade against hallucinations. Toad ensured the truth became an immovable position in opposition to his fiction.
This is when lies became even more impossible. And she held her ground. We know what that means don’t we?
He moved on to a different reason to excuse his behavior, or excuses really, every way he could try to gain or keep victim-hood status. A Rolex watch salesman trying to swap your real one for a fake and fifty-bucks.
This one doesn’t have a scratch!
The most frequent, “cover-up” was one he seemed unable to resist, as if perhaps one day it would start working after zero successes and roughly half a decade (Give or take a year). It was simple, thus simple to refute. In almost absolutely every argument wherein his speech was spat; if she at all summed up his bullshit? he would instantly reply with, “That’s not what I said.”
It would then dovetail, by number into a repetitive argument. She would explain she did need not use the exact same sentence to convey the meaning. While he would argue she didn’t “remember it correctly”.
He was desperately trying to exploit one of her learning disabilities, a short-term memory deficit that was aggravated by rage. But she knew what she could keep and what was lost for a while. Exact wording was not required as shown by the period of time fury was ice cold.
Sylvanna’s long term retention is ridiculous. She can pull from early childhood. But only if you ask the right questions, she needs it to explain or respond to a comment, or that particular piece of information is part of a puzzle she’s working on.
Otherwise every morning is a brand new day with entirely different potential.
It can be a great help to relationships. It’s extra easy to forgive someone when your mind won’t hold on to it. Which unfortunately aided Toad immensely. His attempt to use her very thinking as a weapon did not ever go well for his, however. He still tried it absolutely till the very end.
It was even less successful in attempts to cause doubt in other ways, the most memorable – speaking of – was the day she commented sex used to be every other night and he uttered, “Really?” in the hopes to confuse her.
“Yes we did.” In the same breath he also tried to make her question her count of once a month. Like that’s hard to notice. She didn’t realize what he was doing because. She thought he was “That dimwitted”. But he had other lies and different goalposts.
Though his other favorite attempt to muddle her mind, was an equally frequent and just as frequently failed to convince her that she didn’t get the meaning right.
That was precious.
She would slam the gate down, usually with “Yes. I fucking did.” There was no argument as to how. It wasn’t necessary as far as she was concerned, And she was not inclined to comment on her superior command over the English language. Mjollnir was waiting and Toad’s ego knew it. So he tried it about once per fight, and then just try something else.
You’ve seen his suave communication. She could translate that well enough to understand when he had just been a little bitch. After the demise of the relationship, she did consider if he could he have been so terrible he never said what he intended to?
Evil or…?
Remember, no shock at her interpretation, just an argument as to why it didn’t happen or perhaps was unclear?
“It’s just because you’re English! You don’t understand.” Was next after “You’re hallucinating”
She practically laughed in his face.
“You’re not used to communicating.” Came after that.
That one was very damaging. Though not because it worked.
Leaving aside she was a communication major and it was one of her passions. She believed him for a while. She didn’t know about gaslighting. So while his attempt to manipulate her perception of his words failed. She thought his feedback earnest enough to be an actual observation.
It had been one of her mighty skills to arbitrate between people and to turn one person’s English into another person’s English. She had grown up as the middle person translating for others. And she thought she had lost the knack.
It inhibited her ability to make new friends and left her incredibly depressed by the entirely fictional perspective. She didn’t start to recover from her insecurities about communication until her therapist pointed out she was quite good,.
Serendipity being what it is – or my influence; After her therapist started lifting her out of the ashes others began to chime in that she was quite easy to understand, while Toad was another matter. By then she had forgotten the source of her pain, and had spent two years haunted by the fear she would never get back to full strength – while already managing just fine indeed better by the week.
Next came his most egregious or outlandish attempt. Which he only tried once. He swore he was being a complete and utter bastard out of… Hang on Sylvanna’s giggling.
I can’t believe I didn’t google it earlier! I mean sure, it’s serious – if you use it correctly.
Which of course he didn’t. He claimed his barbs were because of… Oh come on Sylvanna
“Compassion Fatigue!” Haha! Like he knows what it means to care so much it hurts. Let alone do it for a job!
This is no lie. He actually said this – claiming he had gotten it from his therapist.
Now compassion fatigue is a real thing. And it’s all around right now, so Sylvanna is both extra perturbed and extra amused by the absurdity of his attempt:
“Compassion Fatigue is a state experienced by those helping people or animals in distress; it is an extreme state of tension and preoccupation with the suffering of those being helped to the degree that it can create a secondary traumatic stress for the helper.”[3]
If you are reading this remotely close to the time it was written, you have seen it or felt it or both during Covid. Think of the stories of ICU nurses and then Toad trying to leach off Sylvanna’s struggles to claim he was being traumatized. That he was the victim of her mental illness.
Down came Mjollnir.
Sylvanna’s response had been less than elegant but mighty nonetheless.“You’re just tired of caring? Fuck you!”
He couldn’t appear to not care enough. If he wasn’t visibly kind, he couldn’t earn sympathy and be praised by his family for living next to her – little miss bubble it all up and handle it herself. She does not require much out of another unless prodded with a hot poker or herded into help by me.
She faced hell. He caused it. How brave.
As for his therapist they were either conned into believing Toad – and was essentially paid to validate him[4], or the most patient enby in existance. Toad was the kind of person to pay $64 for an hour of discussion on the same two topics for four years – unless the yearly emergency cropped up. And he would certainly would want to appear to be working on his mental health, So Sylvanna goes with both. She fell for Toad’s lies. But it’s a different perspective for someone trained to dig a person out of an emotional pit – and neither one of us are qualified. The few times Toad did need sorting out they managed quite well.
Though it’s unlikely the idea actually came from anywhere other than Toad’s arse as late into the relationship he claimed… Hang on, Sylvanna’s having another giggle fit.
He’s so lucky I only just googled that too! OMG that’s hilarious!
Are you done?
No. Hang on. Hehehehe. Okay.
This one is actually significantly less serious.
Toad tried to explain she was responding to his “Vagal Tone.”
I know it sounds like Vogon poetry. Which was about as dreadful as listening to him I admit.[5] But that is a real thing. However the word tone isn’t quite the same one.
Bwahhahaha! Wait till you read it!
*cough*
Sorry. Please continue.
The Vagus Nerve is cranial, and part of the automatic activities of the body. Such as breathing digestion and heart rate. I’m still not certain the latter isn’t an illusion in his case.
Toned muscles is a closer comparison and that’s not entirely accurate either but at least that’s not referring to whatever the fuck he was on about as far as speech production and his throat. (It’s an “internal biological process.”[6])
She ignored him anyway. She was a sound engineer, she knew how vocal chords worked – at least at the time. That nerve isn’t in that spot. Oh she’s laughing again.
Come one. We have the best one coming up.
he must have looked up that singing, humming, chanting and gargling affect it and thought I’d fucking fall for that as being for his voice![7] I’m not sure what he thought my science reasoning was. I’d assume he’s just that dimwitted yet again, but…
Ah yes. That’s worth finally explaining, as an awful lot got ignored via the “he doesn’t think defense.”
Sylvanna didn’t really filter who she loves based on IQ[8]. Even gifted individuals can take extra effort to communicate with – usually on her part. It doesn’t really matter to her what she has to break down or how small the bites need to be, there’s always something and most of the time she doesn’t mind which it is – over text at least. Now verbally it depends on the day. Either way, to her there are other more important qualities to have. Unfortunately Toad didn’t have those either.
After “Compassion Fatigue” But before “Vagal tone” was “It’s my culture, you don’t understand my culture.”
This worked for a while. It confused her, so it stopped her. But she wasn’t quite convinced. By now the goal posts were shifting too much, and he always had an excuse why it was okay to behave in a reprehensible manner.
It morphed from never happening to it being reasonable that it happened. She didn’t notice yet, abuse is sneaky and hard to escape. Particularly if someone had you in his clutches before like Glass Swan had.
Still inhibited by her doubts in her communication skills – her undergraduate major, as pointed out – she busted out the theory in her mind and studied his statement.
For two years she paid extra attention to everyone around him; in person, on Facebook, talking to her or Toad. Finally after what was truly an exhaustive search, she didn’t buy it at all. Lost in the labyrinth, they were in a viscous fight and he snapped with a barb he defended as his “culture”.
“I’ve watched your friends. All of them. None act like this.” She slammed down with Mjollnir – this time with a thunder crack to his balls. No room for defense. He wasn’t remotely capable of refuting her. She had finished studying them and was still analyzing data but could determine that much with utter certainty.
“It’s my family!”
Excuse me? Four people – and not around guests?
Sylvanna pointed out that the word he had used did not refer to extremely small subcultures and that perhaps he should use words he means so he could be understood.
he blurted out, “Stop trying to colonize me” and ran off.
It was so hilarious; I wasn’t even mad.
She managed to suppress laughter until she shared it with her mother. Though there were plenty of comments to the effect of “Do you have a flag?”once she did.[9] She did not realize this had been gaslighting she just exposed. She really thought he really was: Just. That. dimwitted.
Though she really should have wondered more deeply, as when she would boil an argument down to the tinder under the match, he would frequently object that she was simplifying the situation. It wasn’t about the basic and childish issue that had been the center – such as being interrupted. His feelings were more complicated than that.
The argument wasn’t.
Perhaps if he had actually stated what was bothering him, it wouldn’t have seemed like such a waste of time. Except it was usually about control so it was still not worth the exhaustion of her patience.
That also got ignored.
He did succeed at confusing the issue on one aspect of language.
“Boundary” wasn’t really used by Sylvanna’s family and friends when she was younger as they already generally understood what it meant to be a decent person and didn’t behave like Toad. Indeed, even her worst ex boyfriends didn’t behave like Toad. She had only encountered the concept when working in a bookstore. Someone asked for a self help book on it, ironically while encroaching on her space and ignoring her plea she was being called to the register. It didn’t exactly have a good association.
During the great unraveling, Sylvanna stopped pursuing resolution the next day. It was somewhat pointless anyway, he always denied that it was still an issue but became shocked when the same argument cropped up again.
“We talked about this. This is a boundary.” He would shoot back aggressively.
This had two effects:
a) make the word entirely meaningless so he thought he had succeeded.
And:
b) make the word entirely meaningless so she ignored its existence and internally sneered a little at its use each time.
Whenever he tried that defense, the argument would be filed under: He can’t understand that either. Oh, Our Lady of Perpetual Naivete. She’s proof predatory creatures like Toad go after those whom are oblivious to faults. As you can see why.
She did learn what it was supposed to refer to near the end, and has this to say
No hon.
a) you never, ever, once, in the entire relationship, stated a boundary up front. Unlike me. You just ignored mine anyway.
And
b) That’s not how boundaries work. You can not expect subjects with mutual affects to go unchecked.
Excuse the tongue twister. Her elastic snapped and she hasn’t tried saying that yet.
Hey! Mr repetitive emphasis and alteration!
Right. Anyway…
The latter aspect eventually began to cause rage like nothing else. To the point the very last time she ever heard him say the word “boundary” she had to suppress a high degree of fury. You can’t poke a dragon for about half a decade and then expect it to respond nicely when you prod it again. Abuse, in the case of Sylvanna, had a cumulative effect. The height of which we both refer to as a Cosmic wedgie as it was both highly irritating and bordered on a celestial event.
We’re getting there.
As far as his lack of intellect went, it had other issues for him in what remains to be mentioned about gaslighting as there is little to say about lusting after apologies and claiming he was only a little bitch because she had done something to provoke him.
Yes, she does hold the position she could not avoid yelling as he would work a nerve with needling and wheedling no matter what she tried to avoid it – including hide in the bathroom. But it is like going into a punching bag too hard and then blaming it when it swings back and hits you in the face.
Something Sylvanna might just imagine once in a while.
Except in my version it lands on him and he lies under it, squashed like a pancake with his little toady hands flat out either side!
To get serious again
– sigh – Fine
Toad did everything he could to medicalize or change… Sylvanna, basically. Everything beautiful, creative and unique. As touched on earlier, no quirk was accepted or even ignored. And aspects of her very mind were his favorite stomping ground. No glitch of her messy non-linear brain left to be. they were all used in attempts to keep her down and under control.
Hang on a sec.
HAHAHAHAHAHA
Bran, dude… you said…
Yeah. But I think we’ve been over this. It’s not something one should attempt without a fire suit and last will and testament.
Toad tried to grasp onto power. With absolutely no shame, and a lack of compassion so extreme, murder hornets are probably nicer.
To actually get serious. Sylvanna’s suffering, her illness, her pain and gutting depression didn’t matter. Bipolar was nothing more than a weapon as far as he behaved – both in accusation of symptoms that didn’t exist, and the drugs involved.
Of all the attempts, nothing was as irritating, angering frustrating and futile as blaming an entire argument on lack of chemicals in her system. No matter how valid her point. How reasonable her words. Nothing she said mattered. If the alarm went off anywhere near Sylvanna’s disagreement, it was the fault of medication running out as he saw said. Usually they were in the car and Sylvanna had slammed down an unmovable position – because pills, clearly.
The meds covered an earlier dose in an overlap and didn’t work that way. He didn’t negate superior logic. But if he didn’t drag her down. Didn’t make her feel it was sickness that caused the fight? He was the problem. Which he was. And she wasn’t fooled into believing he wasn’t.
She just again thought he was, say it with me, that dimwitted.
Her argument would be still silenced because trying to correct him on anything just got annoying. Someone without the capacity to understand how the pills worked.
It was meant to force her to “question herself” for “causing” a fight instead of just refusing to put up with being treated like refuse. He wanted to make her second guess arguing with him, like he was an expert on anything.
Sylvanna only argues when she knows what the fuck she’s talking about. Which is why culture took two years to reject as she had to be certain. The only way to entirely stop her from arguing is to bloody treat her with respect and make valid points!
You would think that wouldn’t be hard.
She grew frustrated with his foolishness. After a very long while it made her angry. But she really didn’t know how to explain he had the knowledge base of a flea and the brain to match. After all. He didn’t even know when he needed his own medication. She had tried to help but he was too thick witted for that even – so she thought.
Sylvanna, next time you get the impression someone just can’t understand something very important – at least to you? Put it back under the rock and walk away.
I can’t hit it with the stone?
No. Nor Mjollnir. Just let it sink into the scuzzy pond.
Sylvanna had done her best to get Toad pharmaceutical relief for his anxiety. After trying a medication in the hospital she had one to suggest for his and arranged a prescription.
I’m not sure she would have succeeded without finding, making the appointment for, and delivering him to a psychiatrist – with the name of the drug in hand. But it was non addictive and potentially helpful. He really needed something. He had feinted in class during the previous semester/school. We’ve been over that.
It worked. And it would have been a godsend.
If Toad wasn’t actually that dimwitted.
Remember, trying to help someone treat anything is walking a line to tread carefully on. But what do you do if you think they’re afraid and need comfort? Once some form of “No.” Is stated it’s time to back off. But without that? Well there is another clear way, denial of symptoms not… this.
Not long after the pills were in the cabinet she woke up in an amazing mood. Just before someone sullen spiky and anxious roused himself as well. She had seen it before many times. Sylvanna could tell right away that he had the pins pricking your brain sensation. But she was unaware that he was a total prick himself, and couldn’t accept anything less than a perception of perfection. So she suggested medication.
He blamed her for his state, but she was far feeling far too good to take it personally. This would be the first time he used it outside of the classroom so she mistook it as fear.
He’s just scared, you remember that don’t you?
She tried to sooth his concerns, and sweetly urged, nudged, cajoled, and comforted him that it was okay to take it if he needs it. This one isn’t addictive, it doesn’t alter perception, it just softens the feeling of jabbing in your brain. She knew exactly how that could be.
He started to cry into a dry tissue. “Why are you doing this to me?”
?!?!
Her chest began to tighten.
Maybe he didn’t see how his spiky, pissy feeling could be helped?
She knew anxiety felt like sparking wiring. So she gently explained the symptoms he was showing, and that he didn’t need to be stuck with it.
She was attacked and accused of each one, as soon as she shared it. Her mood was fizzling as joy evaporated into the worst form of panic attack she could get without considering paramedics. But she swept her feelings aside. Her partner was so stressed and scared he was projecting. He needed help.
Our Lady of Perpetual Naivete was waiting for him to either let her fetch his pills to prove he worked, or “I want to try without.” Perhaps. “I’m not ready for that.” Maybe setting of an appropriate boundary such as, “I don’t want to.” Or even. “I don’t want to talk about it.” At least, “I don’t feel that way.” Denial is an easy stopping point. But he just insisted her (Forced) patient, calm advice was doing it. He felt that way. But it was her fault.
She was a little too close to the truth and had just encountered gaslighting she could not understand, but didn’t believe. It was still such a grueling awful experience she never repeated it. He would need to learn on his own.
Toad’s understanding of mental illness was dropped even further in her estimation. How could she trust his opinion when he not only didn’t recognize his own state – he thought she was in one!
Let’s pause to enjoy this. Sylvanna was so independent, she did not doubt herself, she doubted him. The first attempt at gaslighting had worked. But it had made certain she had an acute awareness of her situation. Maybe she should say it’s thanks to him that as the illness progressed and she did actually begin to hallucinate, the facts from a trusted source often made them stop. He was not a trusted source however, so no idea how well that would have gone.
To him, telling her she was ill slipped from his tongue in easy lies. Particularly once she was well enough to truly stand her ground and push back, hard.
No apology from her. Certainly no remorse. Increased confidence despite lack of energy, and negative feedback from him. She was lit only by a candle and still getting stronger. So he called her manic while denying his own mood entirely – and the barbs he used.
She was encouraged that it was just an inability to admit wrong.
This perspective was not helpful to his so so during the “It’s anxiety” phase of the arguing, he didn’t give an excuse; he didn’t try to manipulate her further. He gave up and said he wasn’t angry he was anxious, and “Na Uh…” when confronted with his words.
The man could not even acknowledge negative feeling to save… his marriage.
Sylvanna believed Toad’s claims at first and had him go up on his regular anti-anxiety – which for all she knew he didn’t need and didn’t take. But she heard his excuse so much she wasn’t living with it. If that’s what it did? It needed to be treated.
Oops, Toad was announcing he was sick – his gaslighting exploding in his face. This was going south for Toad and how. If he took responsibility for his words he was anything but the victim. He really was the Minotaur in the maze.
When it came to Sylvanna’s attention, what Toad wanted, he had gotten. But he near demanded her adoration, not her actual support. And that’s not how she operates. She had been raised to understand relationships take work. Some times are harder than others. Worth it. But when you tie her, it is to someone invested in your well-being, just like her mother.
For “The Mum” that involved some patience with her untreated daughter. We’ve been over this, Sylvanna was not easy to live with. And she needed a psychiatrist. It was thanks to the Mum’s effort, Sylvanna finally sought help.
Yes Sylvanna was a tower, but that had been with a foundation provided by an unusual upbringing. Now it was her turn to do her best with a loved one. And put some solid ground beneath his feet. That was her deep idea. Oh, Our Lady of Perpetual Naivete. You can’t put cement on topsoil.
Maybe if she was truly patient he would develop a drop of self awareness. In truth he noticed himself as his entire set of interest, and manipulated and wormed to get what he wanted. But Sylvanna was kicking ass at negotiation. Unfortunately, you can’t combat deliberate nastiness with ridiculous skill.
Sylvanna, listened very carefully and calmly when Toad claimed “I’m not mad at you because of (whatever it was), I’m mad at you because (Something).” She remained easy-going and complimented his on communicating his true feelings.
He flat out denied saying the word “mad” – right afterwards. Not down the line, but after she had heard him finally use those specific words and was just waiting to give him positive reinforcement.
Every time she tried to sweetly bridge the gap, negotiate, give him room to express himself it failed dismally. Though while frustrating for her that she was trying to help him in earnest, he must have been more so, because in his mind her strength was his weakness.
I remember taking a vape and gently, kindly offering to let him express it. That it was okay. He was in a safe space. I’m not going to get angry.
He became furious that I would not accept the lie before me. But I stayed calm and tried to encourage him that it was okay to feel that way. You don’t have to tell me what it is about. Just admit you are.
He didn’t ask me to back off. There was no word of “hey, that hurts.” Or even a simple, “I don’t want to talk about it.” The easiest of all replies to accept. Of all the times stating a boundary would have absolutely been appropriate he didn’t.
I thought perhaps we might have a breakthrough. But he just repeated the horseshit. louder, and angrier. Until…
“Melissa, I know you are only doing this because you are manic.”
She walked out, her fury ignited. She was nowhere near. Nor did he remotely have like the skills to recognize anything meaningful about her mental illness. After [beep] years.
Though it’s worth keeping that argument in mind. As Sylvanna is certain anger was a part of a game to him. And if he admitted it, he lost. We dissect that in chapter fifteen.
A version of “you’re just manic” was the very last thing he said to her before she filed for divorce. Most audaciously, through a friend because he was willing to let a not so mutual see his abuse while attempting to give her the silent treatment.
About what? She was offering knowledge of a divorce workshop and promised she’d give him space. He later proved he really could have done with his advice. But he was too full of his own horse shit to see the path he was on.
As will become clear, Toad thought words about divorce just a battle for control. And then she slammed down the portcullis to lawyer up or stay silent. She would not be allowing him to communicate through anyone she loved again.
him very last message was an attempt at gaslighting. I’m not sure he could help himself.
[1] (or were too young/not even born then. Just know Trump loved gaslighting his fans by convincing them America was in dire straights and needed an overpowering fix!)
[2] It’s worth noting that gaslighting can lead to paranoia – or deepen it. And cause actual psychosis. If you already are having issues with mental illness that can be a huge problem with extremely serious consequences. Follow it with sleep deprivation and an onslaught of harassment and it leads to events like Sylvanna giving up on reality until she could move! That’s the next book. Maybe. If I can figure it out. Because I got confused too. I had to drag in an another animal aspect!
[4] In Fairness. While “Validation” had often fallen under the idea it is something only self centered people need; Covid changed that. So many were isolated or deprived/separated from those whom knew them best, it became clear the idea is actually quite deep. Reinforcement that a feeling is reasonable – or at least understandable – is a necessary step to healing from trauma.
[5] From “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” By Douglas Adams.
[6] See next footnote. Yes I’m really citing my own footnote.
[7] Per an University of Ottawa adaption of “How to Stimulate Your Vagus Nerve for Mental health” 2017 by Jordan Fallis. So third hand now.
[8] IQ is a measurement of how well you think in standard ways. It’s not exactly treated thoughtfully…
[9] See Eddie Izzard’s “Dressed to Kill” Stand up.
We delved into many corners of the psyches involved in abuse. But at the time they were subtle, missed, indeed almost started again with a friend of six years – warned away the exact right day. Sylvanna really wanted to be able to provide you with a clear sign to dodge ahead of time. What says “get out” before the abuse really gets going? What one trick exposes the truth and saves you some heartache?
I’m sure there are be a great number of different people from entirely separate angles who would think it impossible. But it’s not. There a red flag so big it rolls out the carpet for them to walk out on – once you’ve booted them from your life. Though good luck, it takes several kicks. Hold firm and change your phone number if you have to. Lambs[1] clothing can indeed contain wolves, and they’ll hunt a scary amount of time.
This one sign is the failing of the con artist by the nature of how their lies work. But it’s tendrils reached through the entire situation of the book. It’s a kraken you can catch early. Just make sure you keep things slow enough to watch for it. Considering what this is all about? Refusing to respect your need for a more sedate pace is the crux right there. If they’re slick enough to hide at first? They’ll still slip up on this given enough time.
Listen Read closely. Because the fabric might seem obvious when first said. But it isn’t.
Pay attention to the way they handle “No.”
No, really. Pay attention. A Hard “No.”
Two Elements.
Is your “No.” incredibly reasonable? Such as no visitors staying the night during Covid while living with 70+ parents? But “no, sorry, can’t.” was flat out ignored? Usually a hybrid between trashing boundaries and persuasion. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”
Fucking what part of lethal disease is confusing? Oh…. Don’t answer that.
And/Or:
Did the hard “no” earn some piss and vinegar – usually somewhere else?
Con artists and abusive fucks (If there’s a difference) can’t hide they don’t take “absolute no” well. Toad in particular.
He tried to hide his lies
Through his thin disguise.
But it was right there in his eyes.
Unreasonable anger.
Yeah like a smack to the face that last line, right? That’s what happens.
A petty petulant demon inside him.
They’ll try to keep it from you – at first, at least. Punctuation intended. But their game is to keep pushing, keep going, keep you convinced. To them, “No” means keep talking – even after a hard “No.” Keep insisting. Keep at it it.
Keep Lying…
“No” results in stomping on your boundaries while making themselves sound as innocent as possible. Soon it’s the dirty trick that gets a fight going. They wrap the problem round your neck – you’re not paying attention to their boundaries. But first they need to to trap you. So they’ll try to dress it as persuasion in the beginning.
Not all “no”s…
Like my every answer to his bullshit ideas? The only one he got away with was when I asked his to give me the pear core to eat, rather than throw trash from my window like an inconsiderate child! I ate the crunchy middle bit of an unripe fruit, for near half a decade, because the fight was frankly just beneath me. And his taste in food is questionable.
To get back to the point, yes. All “no’s”. Even if it’s uncertain. He all require a pause, and consideration if an attempt to convince otherwise is really worthy. And in certain subjects that hard line is in society, a wall of “none shall pass.” But the trick was visible before. Sylvanna just didn’t know to look for it. To watch. To see if he… perhaps further that night (In the beginning anyway), gets upset about something else entirely – some nonsense. And picks a fight on that. Like texting too quickly, as the example given a lot earlier.
Sometimes it sounds more normal, but it almost always catches the victim off guard because frankly. Both versions are still weird.
How the hell did you reach that conclusion?
You’re stuck trying to find out how things were so badly misunderstood, when they weren’t. they’re reaching. Because passive aggressive whankers will throw a fuss, even if you’re too reasonable to refute. The fit will happen. We’re not talking feeling too much and falling under a haystack. We’re discussing a straw-man.
As an example of the former, Sylvanna, in private, starts to cry if she gets overwhelmed. As soon as she feels she can’t handle one more thing – there’s a literal cry. No other word for it. Not a shriek. Not a Scream. Not really strong enough to be a wail. But still pure distress – in an empty house. Tears don’t usually pour in rivers but it sure sounds like it. I’m impressed she still makes her bed the number of times her duvet has been the last thing.
Thanks Bran, I sound like a colicky baby.
Well you’re human, mostly, you sort of-
Don’t go there! We’ll make chapter eleven creepy!
She’s usually suppressing an intense amount of severe pain. Oh I mean on both as two axis of hell! So fiddling with blankets has gotten “the sound.” Though the first time this happened she had a full on meltdown trying to get a cover on, and swears pixies were involved in her subsequent success.
You tell me fixing bedding doesn’t require magical intervention!
No. I’d rather make another point instead.
Okay. That’s fair.
When Sylvanna met Toad she was on a pendulum swing from hearing “yes.” too much.
That’s a real problem. She was sleeping with them so it wasn’t a “nice guy” thing unless he thought it related. Unfortunately she gets put off pretty fast if the person she’s dating won’t ask for anything, and always does what she suggests without ever mentioning a better alternative.
Sylvanna is pretty darn reasonable. If you dated her age fifteen to twenty-five? Well she doesn’t remember but she was an entirely different person. But she does remember feeling like she was a wrecking ball. The odds of her “way” being better/preferred one hundred percent of the time “had to be something she did wrong.”
Those of you who see the next point coming are welcome to sigh.
In fairness she’s full of good ideas, and if she wants to be persuasive could sell salt to a salt miner. She has a talent that makes her squirm miserably. Her silver tongue can pour polish on the page so fast your head would spin – if your eyes could track it in the first place! But she hates that aspect of herself.
Ugh. No. Thank you! I did not get a BA in communication to go into marketing. Bipolar stole the PHD I wanted! Studying it alone has to do I guess.
Go ahead and describe your breakfast. Let them see what you call truly villainous.
Good lord no, I don’t want to make that sound tasty. Someone might try it! 4:00am food experiments are not fit for public consumption!
Come on. I have a point to make.
Is it the no thing? Because…
Is that a “Hard No?” Or would you secretly be amused trying to describe it as remotely appetizing?
Hrm… get back to me. I need to think on it.
Oh yeah, that’s another response to watch for, just like the no. If you say you need time, that needs respect. But from the wrong type of dating partners you’ll get pushing not patience. If he won’t let you think, let them walk on that red-flag carpet out.
To be fair, as you see, persuasion is a natural part of relationships. Sometimes you know someone has a strength you’re encouraging. Or maybe it‘s more serious and involves medication. Trying to get a mentally ill person to seek treatment? Sylvanna wasn’t convinced till she convinced herself. But her mother made an extremely noble, valiant, and untiring effort. So Sylvanna didn’t come to that conclusion alone.
She had no brakes pre-treatment. So it really is hard to fault others for being swayed by her. Plus her death-glare might be as well be lethal for how fast someone gets out of the laser line. And most people give up and go, well before that. So if a fight is involved? Most will fold. Well would. Now she’s better at limiting herself, so there’s no way to know.
As a note on communication, a little over a decade later she still feels guilty for bringing a controlling boyfriend to meet a new friend she didn’t realize liked her, because he never mentioned going further, or remotely came close to kissing her – which is usually how she figures it out. She thought he wasn’t attracted to her. Otherwise known as, Sylvanna’s existence as an observant oblivious person.
“Yes” is also a very important skill to have. But saying “Yes” when you mean “No” does no one any favors friends. That’s a red flag for an unhealthy relationship. Not necessarily abusive – more unbalanced than anything. There should be some give and take, flexibility. Trust. And willingness to be clear and tell the truth.
[1] Besides lambs grow up to be sheep and those are some mean bastards that put geese to shame!
I’m grieving. I don’t really want to explain over what. It will hopefully become clear in time. So I’m taking a break from any online presence, other than a daily picture to prove I’m alive and not in the hospital.
…Without stepping on a rug with mud stained shoes – because some things I can legally talk about but shouldn’t.
Mysterious I know. But while most of Portland has heard the latest, there’s so much more I haven’t mentioned. And a few things I finally got too frustrated to hide. Not that I feel like mentioning them again.
So how am I actually doing?
Things are… not good.
Last night I had a “stolen work, shat on work, deleted work” problem. I ended up sobbing, suicidal, and loud. Writing was part of my identity. In the past it was all I did. But now millions of pages of work (I’m not kidding) has been stolen and used to train an AI.
That includes my unpublished partially written work. Used to write and try to steal my own language. Right now I’m yelled at with suggested autofill like a wheel of words. She writes what the AI thinks I will.
I do have questions of copyright when it comes to relying on AI to write. Is it even yours anymore?
Probably not. Particularly in this case.
Right now I’m currently being harassed as I type. With what goal?
Actually to kill me.
I can’t write remotely in my own voice. I can barely stand…
Sorry for the brevity of the post. But I have a simple idea and the context of the need is overwhelmingly obvious.
Guns
The interesting part of gun ownership – as a collection. Is many haven’t used their weapons, and hopefully won’t need their whole arsenal. They’re kept clean. Some even pride on dismantling them quickly and reattaching the parts. But Gun ranges are few and far between. Mostly closed off from the public -With the exception of Los Vegas but should we be surprised?
What I noticed from an absurd amount of mythbuster episodes (they tested myths as the name implies), was just how much fun the presenters had with a few well placed targets and a lot of bullets.
So here’s what I suggest. More ranges to become members of and only ranges can keep certain bullets. I’m aware I’m King Mides with the tides when it comes to my preferred solution: banning the shit out of them. And I really question what counts as “self defense” in some parts of the country.
But come on you have the arsenal and the bullets to feed machines of war. Wouldn’t it be better to have somewhere to use them as long as the general public could not own bullets?
Sure it sounds like a technicality, but so? It would reduce the number of accidents and overly armed classroom shooters. A proper handling seminar could be required.
I had to get a licence to fucking scuba dive why shouldn’t the paperwork some already get (sometimes) come with better strings attached? More a blanket fairness that, if you want to shoot them, it requires a little education first. Whether or not you progress on “right to carry” laws.
One small change legally (sort of) and a lot of job opportunities when a new form of recreation centers open?
I mean people kill people, but the guns help, but the real issue is the projectile involved. Why wouldn’t that sound like a better answer than thoughts and prayers?
Oh hand wringing, “what else can we do?” You can take your “thoughts and prayers” and shove them up your arse. This is what we could do. Control bullets not guns.
Once you identify a bullshitter you realize his tricks are paper thin. It’s spotting them in the first place that is difficult. But after that you quickly get used to them saying just enough and letting you fill in the details – those times they’re not taking the details of your story and wrapping themselves in a cloak of them.
Sadly individuals like Sylvanna were prime picking for those two tricks. So many people relate to her she’s never put on guard by shared experiences. And while she appears well spoken at times – she swears she still is not. Because sometimes she can’t get her full idea across but has been blessed by friends who did know what she was trying to say. So she understands others might struggle too.
The red flags for her are how self serving they are in the hands of con artists like Toad and Peaches. “I’m sorry for what I said.” Isn’t actually an apology from someone who thinks those words are precious baubles.
For which part, you dickhead?
“There are some discrepancies on these forms”
Gets the reply:
“Oh, what are they?”
The instinct is to help. In the mouth of the innocent is is confusion, in the words of a worm? Laziness. Many mental illnesses and learning disabilities have their symptoms labeled by such. Let’s be clear. That’s horseshit. But it should also be clear by now, lazy people also do exist. So far the Diagnostic Manual does not include habitual deceit on Toads level of con artist. Though you’ll find lying is still in there.
Sylvanna maintains some lies are unintentionally entertaining in retrospect.
She was given a Katana by Toad “It’s real.”
*Cough* Snicker
It’s pretty clear he didn’t realize Sylvanna was aware of three things:
Good fucking luck affording a real one
Where the hell did you, of all people, find it? Who made it?
You can tell the difference by how it’s weighted.
Let’s add d) She had held a real one before. I tried getting an explanation of the feel but her answer was “If it doesn’t kiss the energy in your wrists it is not authentic.” As she has no idea how else to express it, and I have no idea what she means I gave up. Apparently it makes sense if you are passed one already unsheathed. In her circles drawing another’s was considered rude, but Sylvanna doesn’t actually know if that was more widespread. I’m not doing a global hunt just to find out, so I’m not going into why either. But easily said, I don’t think Toad knew how much she respected a well crafted sword of any origin.
When Sylvanna was still known as “jail-bait” she spent a whole weekend at a convention with a friendly weapon-smith all too glad for the company, and to keep others at bay. Thus her first lesson in how to handle a blade came from the one who made it. It was a different kind but he taught her what to look for. She has been lucky for an unlucky person.
The plastic on the fake Katana is a bit of a dead giveaway too!
At least the box is the right height for your staff.
She never told Toad any of that, but she soon learnt you could also tell the Katana was fake because he specifically mentioned it wasn’t. Which is also why I’m pretty certain anything private she listed as off limits was no doubt looked at.
I just want you to all imagine the confusion and doubt from sneaking around her back to find a maple wood penis. I almost wish it was deliberate. Had I thought of it I would have started planting condoms. So I suggest you do if you’re concerned your partner is a snoop – leave flavored ones. Sex – The active kind – and sexuality aside; you’d find out if they’ve been looked at. Racy knickers might work too.
Bonus if they try to turn it into accusations you are the one who can’t be trusted. Tell them a god suggested it. Merely for the humor value. Mine, yours, ours. You are more than welcome to say they’re for Bran. Finally! A giggle-fit from Sylvanna. I don’t know about you, but I feel better.
Con artists have three other huge tell tale signs most easily seen with the themes:
“Treat me as I deserve! I am a pretty (petty) swan!”
Self- Entitlement
“I crafted this! It’s flawless. It gets me what I want. How dare you question it!”
Inability to change
“I am special. I’m never wrong. If you think I’m behaving badly the fault lies with you!”
Blame shifted to others for refusing to fall for his horseshit.
Meanwhile victims frequently, not always, hide his emotional response. Because they tend to have one or both thoughts akin to:
“I feel so stupid.”
“Admitting to being a victim makes me feel weak.”
Sylvanna had both beneath her skin for a long time, and spent years plucking up the courage to let me say she felt that way – right up to the point of writing the book. But someone had to let everyone else know. It’s okay to feel that way. Because everyone who went through something like this does. We know:
Male-bodied victims are looked down on if they admit to any abuse. Gender frequently aside.
Victims of all genders and sexes frequently look down on themselves for it, which brings us to:
Something happens when you first open your eyes to the abuse, no matter where on the spectrum you are. You experience shame you do not deserve.
“I felt so foolish, degraded, and powerless. I wanted to hide what I could now see. I did not want admit to myself someone else had managed to take control of me – of any part. Even if it was not entirely.”
Gaslighting relies on the fear of the gaze in the mirror.[1]
Let’s cut the crap with an admission women aren’t supposed to make so a god is doing it instead. Sylvanna is extremely intelligent. Enough to be very confident of it in private. But not in a way that fits in anywhere useful other than making fun of society. Though I maintain that might be the best place for a long-term thinker.
She doesn’t seem to notice much when you’re around her at first – because, as mentioned, she’s observing too much to process all at once.
Plus what she does notice she frequently doesn’t comment on – either because it doesn’t occur to her, she considers it obvious when it isn’t. Or no one understands her questions when she does say something.
“Who is really is the leader of User interface design outside the project manager?” The answer from the intelligent but dimwitted, is an aggressive “You don’t get it.. That is the leader.”
From the thoughtful. “There are so many departments involved it more evolves than any one group have the reigns.”
Being in charge doesn’t make you a leader. Fuckwit
Well the ignorance of that just explains why we have such a clear and memorable incident.
While a very old issue, the misunderstanding doesn’t usually matter enough to Sylvanna and thus they are difficult to remember. Except word bounced through two people to her father – across the Atlantic and back again – and he thought it a particularly interesting question and mentioned it to the Mum. Sylvanna wasn’t expecting her mother (Now fourth hand) to comment on computer usability. Which is how Sylvanna learnt of the academic trail. One should be careful on strangers they shit on, you never know what will trickle back. But at least we have an example.[2]
Asking questions is a frustrating process that has made some of the brightest individuals intrigued, and some of the least-intelligent-smart people unable to admit they don’t understand her.
You know, it’s okay not to understand someone so long as you’re not a dick about it. Some people are just that different. You are not born knowing all the thinking patterns of other people, and unless you’re like Sylvanna and explored nearly everything, you usually don’t have a chance to learn.
Which brings us to Sylvanna’s entire attitude towards intellect. She views an iceberg of quotients to be a poor perspective, and instead prefers the idea of a mountain range. And while she could climb to the top of a mountain and lurk; she prefers to take her aptitude for psychology in trek into trek of other peoples perspectives.
Which is also where she does what very few people can come close to achieving… admitting others are better at what they naturally do best. You would think it not hard. But be ready to put your prejudice in check. The example might make you think twice – at least. Because a lot of people underestimate what it requires to actually keep the peace.
Personally I was going to use a different example but lost a bet to St. Michael the Archangel, and he’s been watching over Sylvanna longer.
Sylvanna could guess police work took understanding of multiple sciences but couldn’t even get to the mountain chain that is involved. Nope, the lifelong smartypants just couldn’t do it. She doesn’t have the training nor as much capacity for that style of thinking. But she finally got on the path to take a look at what that’s like. Then she found a book on it.
Every police officer has to take a battery of tests on basic maths, science, language skills, and score above average on reasoning and memory skills. They must pass physical tests. They must clear a thorough background check including a credit report. They must have an excellent track record of good judgment and pass questions on cheating, lying and stealing – some required to take a polygraph! Does that sound like “cops are stupid?” No it doesn’t.[3]
A lot of people who consider themselves particularly clever would still make terrible police officers And such individuals do not offer recognition for a talent in law enforcement. But to have that combination of abilities is just as significant as abstract thought (or some such).
This is why the term dimwit is focused on in the book. To emphasize it is about lack of thinking, not capability. Because aptitude isn’t always something that can accurately be measured. And if it can, it might not be in a way compatible to others with the the same gifts.
One thing Sylvanna has noticed overall? Truly intelligent people tend to be curious not closed-minded. Who is she to judge? What a very good question – that you have to answer for yourselves. Is it, or is it not, obvious?
Frankly there’s just too much going on in her head to ever explain everything she’s thinking about – and trying to make it linear tends to get thoughts to collide. Which is why she became a writer. She wanted to show what the world looks like to her. Because spoken word would never be enough.
You know what’s important about all this?
It doesn’t make her lessor or greater it makes her more observant of different details.
There are times she fails – even at things she’s good at. Like everyone else. Anyone who can’t admit they fail has already revealed they do!
And she still felt stupid.
It’s okay to be super-duper great at what you do – and that’s top work at a top research facility, and not always on point intellectually or even in the right fucking mood to think.
Not that it matters to this because:
Falling for lies is not a sign you lack intelligence or are too trusting.
Some people are, just really, that good at lying.
As clever with fibs as others are at unraveling the workings of the world.
Sylvanna saw a bright soul in Toad and fell in love with what turned out to be no more than a facade. So she also doubted her spiritual vision. But again, some con artists are very good. And Sylvanna had been tricked before.
She easily sees what’s right about a person. But has a harder time spotting when justice and kindness are only taken on as an image, and at the root there is nothing of either of those qualities in the individual. They often perform deeds helping them project the illusion. But it is for love of attention not the love of mankind.
It’s true, Sylvanna is particularly fond of humans. But as a result she is less likely to see the evil in another. Those with kind hearts, strong will, and passion for the care of others make prime targets. It’s not your fault if someone is better at lying than you are at determining the truth. It’s human nature to work together or mankind would never have gotten this far. That some abuse the very instinct of cooperation makes them the aberration. Not you.
[1] This is one reason why Trump supporters can be blind. Who wants to admit to being duped?
[2] Incidentally that semi-famous individual’s name has been forgotten – all that remains is a link and where to find out if she could be arsed. And she can’t.
[3] Please note, as just mentioning the police has consequences. Abolishing them leaves people like Sylvanna without protection. It’s just not a good idea. Same with judging equipment involved as they match to crimes. An all terrain vehicle may seem excessive – unless you know that area is aggressive about human trafficking and the roads are too shitty to risk being stopped by a flat! That is however, entirely separate from racial conflict – which is a more complex issue that is too important to relegate to a footnote. Doing without police isn’t going to help, but neither will the status quo when it comes to problematic precincts.
Sylvanna Devlin 