"Biting Back takes a compelling look at self-care, setting boundaries, and protecting ourselves from friends, loved ones, enemies, and sometimes even ourselves. Written in a page-turning and warm style, Claudia’s refreshing addition to the self-help shelves offers empowering solutions to effectively remind us to stop inviting troubleinto our homes and souls." -- MELODY BEATTIE, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF CODEPENDENT NO MORE































Thursday

The Accidental Vampire




Dear Ms. Slayer,

Is it possible for a vampire to not know what it is?


Not only is it possible, it's practically guaranteed. A vampire cannot see its own reflection in the mirror, remember? You probably know this if you've ever tried to get your vampire to look at itself -- remember when your vampire was listing all your faults, shortcomings, weaknesses, etc., and you finally piped up and said, "Hey, what about YOU? What about your faults, shortcomings, weaknesses, etc.?"

Did you have any luck with that?

I'll answer for you: No.

And why?

Now you answer: Because a vampire cannot see its own reflection, that's why.

Those are the rules.

Monday

Other Hosts



Dear Madam Slayer,
What if you have a friend who keeps complaining about vampire-type people in their lives but can't seem to say no to them? Is there some kind of a kit or something that a person could give them to help them out? Also, is it proper slaying etiquette to offer assistance to someone like this? The person I'm thinking of does not have a computer so can't read your blog.
A Wondering Friend



Dear Friend,

First my question: How come all of a sudden everyone is calling me "Madam?"

And now to your answers: 1. Anyone who "can't say no to their vampire" (or, as we like to say around here, "cannot revoke their invitation to a vampire") is most likely feeling powerless because they haven't yet accepted responsibility for their invitation.


The rule is: if we cannot accept responsibility for our invitations then we will not find the power to revoke them. You probably heard a varation on this in the Spiderman movie (although PVS said it first)-- I think they said, "With great power comes great responsibility." That's not bad, but around here we like to say, "With a given amount of responsibility comes a given amount of power." which has, for one thing, a sense of proportion that I feel the other one lacks. Plus it makes sense. And you have to admit, it's only fair.

2. Yes indeedy, there is a kit... or rather, a book called THE PRACTICAL VAMPIRE SLAYER, but it's not available yet. It's good to remember, though, that we may lay the "kit" (or tool, or book, whatever) at the feet of our friends, but we cannot pick it up for them. They have to do that themselves, and the desire to do that must come from within (where I can assure you, their Slayer resides).

3. And, by the way -- although offering the tools to a suffering host is perfectly fine, always try to remember that slaying is about making informed, conscious, and therefore free choices about our lives; it is not about following someone else’s script for what’s supposedly “best” for us. No one is allowed to push us into revoking our invitation, and no one who knows what’s good for them will so much as raise an eyebrow in our direction should we choose not to revoke our invitation. Aside from being in extremely poor spiritual taste, judging what another chooses to do about their vampire is simply not a thing that any of us can reasonably expect to get away with. Many of us have tried pronouncing judgment on others and discovered, too late, that the price is just a little out of our range.
I’m talking about this “Judge not, lest ye be judged” business, specifically: No matter how we try to bend the rules, we will always find it impossible to judge others without judging ourselves right along with them. After all, our judgments don’t come from some objective standard “out there;” our judgments come from within, so we can hardly expect to separate ourselves from them. When you stop to think about it, why in the world would we be designed to escape the measure of our own standards, anyway? What would be fair, or even practical, about that?


So I'm just saying: Be careful out there.

Wednesday

More Valuable Offers From The Undead


Dear Slayer,

What about telemarketers? I've never invited them in, and still they call. How am I supposed to “revoke” an invitation that I’ve never even “extended”?

The invitation rule is hard and fast, I’m afraid: when our vampires get in, they do so by invitation only. So you did invite them in, only the trouble was you didn't know about it.
Vampires are experts at diversion, deception, and shape-shifting, and we often don’t realize we’ve extended an invitation until we're down a few pints. Telemarketers, I think, are especially endearing in their tactics -- often requesting "just a moment of our time," or sometimes offering us "valuable savings" and even "prizes" to try and get us to open up. What many of us fail to understand, however, is that by simply responding to their questions and offers, we extend our invitations.
As to the solution, getting on "no call lists" is okay, I guess (I'm not so sure I want to be on anyone's list, however!) but not in the least bit necessary. When a vampire calls and says to me,
"Hi Claudia! This is Paula, calling from Blopiddy-blah..." I always interrupt (politely!) and take control of the threshold, the invitation, and the vampire by saying:
"Hi Paula! Would you please take my name off your list?"
There really isn't too much a vampire can say to that besides, "Yes I will," or "thank you, Claudia." Since it's a bad idea to lose my manners around vampires or anyone else, I usually end our (always brief) conversations by saying something like, "And thank you, Paula!"
This is what my friend Cindy calls "bagging a vampire," and I've got to tell you -- once you've tried it and found out how good it feels, you'll never want to stop.

Tuesday

Hosting Here, Or What?


Dear Slayer,

My boyfriend is a really great guy, but he sometimes makes fun of me about stuff like my job (I don’t make as much money as he does), my figure (which is not model-perfect), and the fact that I’m not as smart as he is (I never finished my college degree). I have to admit that what he says is pretty funny sometimes, but it can also hurt my feelings, too. Sometimes I think he’s kind of a vampire, and then later I think I must be crazy to think he’s a vampire – he’s just not the type. Everybody likes him, so maybe I’m just being sensitive (that’s what he always says). If he’s not a real vampire, then I should be ok, right?


You know, when a dog bites us, most of us don’t look at the dog to see how badly we’ve been hurt – we look at the bite. And yet, when most of us begin to suspect we’re being drained by a vampire, the first thing we’re apt to do is try and take a closer look at what the vampire is doing. As if the vampire can reveal to us the extent of our wounds! It’s almost like we’re saying, “If this isn’t a real vampire, then that must not be a real bite on our necks, either.” Think about that for a second: that bite that’s bleeding all over our shirt and getting sticky and hurting like heck and getting infected and pinching when we turn our necks sometimes – that’s the bite that’s not real if we decide it’s not a real vampire? Please.
Diagnosing vampire attacks is not so much about analyzing our vampire's behavior as it is about evaluating the extent of our wounds. I’m not saying that our vampires don’t have some distinguishing characteristics, because they certainly do; but when it comes to getting reliable information about whether I’ve been attacked by a real vampire or not, I’ll check the wound every time.
Here are some questions I ask about my wounds:
1. Does it hurt? What did they say or do that hurt? Do I feel mad, sad, frustrated, defeated, furious, or all of these things?
2. Have I been bitten here before? (Is this familiar, have I felt this pain before? Am I having the same thoughts I had the last time I was hurt this way? Am I trying to defend myself in the same way I have in the past?)
When the area seems particularly thin-skinned, and especially when the pain from the wound is familiar – as it often is when someone is making repeated “humorous” slights about my earning ability, my appearance, or my competence in general – these are pretty sure signs of a vampire lurking about in my life.
But only you can say whether a vampire’s been feeding on you or not – they’re your wounds. The important thing to remember when diagnosing a vampire attack is to keep the focus on ourselves and our injuries, and NOT on our vampires! I know it can be hard to break that thrall once it’s been established, but this is important. When we focus on ourselves, we’re looking where the power is, where the solution is, and (by the way) precisely where our vampires don’t want us looking.

To Whom It May Concern

I don’t want to offend you or anything, but is this for real – an advice column for vampire slayers? Aren’t you talking about, well…a sort of specialized audience?


No offense taken. And, to answer your question, I think it all depends on how you define the word “vampire.” I mean, if you’re thinking sharp fangs, pale skin, and silly accents, then what you’re probably talking about are classical vampires – like Dracula. But… if you’re thinking hurt feelings, drained energy, and stolen property, then what I think you’re talking about are practical vampires – like the kind that show up in our lives every day. Fortunately for us, both are evicted from our lives in the same way: with clear and precise revocations…and always in the light.

Monday

Knock-knock

Dear Madame Slayer,

I have a vampire living next door to me. She only calls me when she needs something, she asks me to watch her kid and just drops him off before I can say no, she borrows things from me (a baby sling, a stroller, milk, eggs) always with the promise that she'll "pay me back (Tuesday)." So this is the thing: I'm done. I've had it. I'm sick of feeling used, but every time I try to get up the courage to tell her off, some sad story about how her husband works all the time, how depressed she is, or how bad her life is, sucks me in again. And so the whole thing starts all over again. I need to change this, but I don't know how. I think I am too afraid of being "mean," but this has gotten out of hand.
Help!
Whimpy


You know the trouble with vampires is that once we invite them in, they are free to come, and go, and feed whenever they want to. It's not fair, I know, but that's the rule: Vampires are special that way; they only need to be invited in once.

On the fair side, however, there is a way out. When we've made up our minds that we we're through with a vampire (and it sounds like you are), we simply revoke our invitation. That's what it's called when we tell our vampire to hit the road: "Revoking our invitation."

A good rule to know when it comes to revocations is this: Vampires do not, under any circumstances, “take hints.” You probably know about this rule if you’ve ever tried to get one to leave you alone by glancing at the clock, yawning, telling them you’re busy, demonstrating you’re busy, saying you have a headache, telling them you’re broke, or whatever. They simply have no receptor sites for that kind of innuendo, and I mean none. So beating them over the head with hint after hint is never going to work.

Successful vampire Slayers issue revocations that are effective because they have two simple and indispensable qualities:
1. They are clear.
2. They are precise.

Makes sense, doesn’t it? But the principle that so often gets overlooked here is that before we can be clear and precise with our vampires, we are first going to have to be clear and precise with ourselves.

This is only practical. If we've been trying to put our vampire off with diluted revocations like, "I can't afford it, I can't see you anymore, or I can't lend you my baby sling," we're going to have to knock that off, get into the light, and get clear about who we are and what we want: We stop pretending that our decision to cut the vampire off is about “being unable” to feed the vampire, and instead recognize that our decision to cut them off is actually about “not wanting” to feed them anymore. We notice that once our will is recognized, our message to the vampire becomes clear, changing automatically to powerful (and honest) invitation-revoking language like this: “I won’t lend you money, I don’t want to see you any more, and I don’t want to lend you my baby sling, oreos, etc."

Once the will is engaged, we start using those “w” words like crazy.

And one last thing: Often, when I catch myself in the light, I see that it was not only my invitation, but my misleading behavior toward the vampire that kept it coming back for more. When that is the case (and it usually is) I say something like, “I’m sorry misled you. By lending you my baby sling, my stroller, and the contents of my refrigerator, I probably gave the impression that it was okay with me for you come over here any time you like and “borrow” things, but I was wrong to do that. I want to be clear with you now. Please do not ask to borrow my things any more. I will not be lending them to you.” Something like that.
Let me know how it goes!