Euphoric Recall Versus Reality

“I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes I will remember your wonders of old.”

Psalm 77:11 ESV

My adult children recently collaborated in a family Father’s Day text with happy childhood memories—movies, mountain and beach vacations, favorite composers, family camps, sports events, and school activities. I clearly recall each experience. I was there also—planning, packing, cleaning up, smoothing things over, and hiding the hardships I bore in silence.

I, too, cherish these shared memories. They documented the good times and supported my belief that I had a healthy marriage and happy family. After all, we appeared to be intact.

I have since learned, though, that emotional health requires recalling the bad times as well as the good. Since I hid my tears, used deflection to cope, and ignored the devaluing statements, the children seldom witnessed my husband's emotional strong-arming or the eventual final discard.

In his mind, my leaving the relationship designated me as the perpetrator and him as the victim. These perpetrator/victim identities revealed themselves in his responses to the Father’s Day text thread: “Thank you for sharing these memories since most of my memories are tainted now,” or, “Thank you for being there for me during my darkest days.”  

My newly acquired life skills helped me to process this unexpected trigger. I recognized components of narcissistic relationships and family dynamics such as: euphoric recall (remembering the good but not the bad), playing the victim (behavior pattern of covert narcissism), discard (a stage in the narcissistic abuse cycle), parental alienation (a strategy for turning children against a parent), and learned helplessness (the defeated, passive behavior I displayed).

I feel less vulnerable and more empowered as I process triggering experiences with growing clarity. Reflecting upon the texts with these new-found strengths does not lessen the pain. It does, however, help me intentionally grieve, and face the future with renewed dignity and confidence in God’s endless grace.

Father, thank You for the gift of remembering because it allows me to remember Your loving touches throughout my life. Thank You for the gift of clarity that moves me beyond confused rumination into truthful reality. Gently lead me as I grieve through this newest pang of remorse, and, according to Your endless creativity, redeem it for Your glory. In the name of Jesus, the source of all truth, I pray, amen.

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