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Family of Origin
I miss my sister...for the first time in say 55 years.
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 654890" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>I think that feeling of "I am responsible" is twisted into us as an intrinsic part of abuse. It is what abuse <em>is.</em> Spousal abuse, child abuse, parent abuse, any kind of abuse. Date rape is a form of abuse where the raped woman is blamed, and the abuser believes it is her fault, too. We don't get to protest, we don't get to think our own thoughts or value our own opinions. Our locus of control is not in here, in the heart of us where it belongs. Until we heal and recover ourselves, it is out there, with our abusers.</p><p></p><p>Maybe that sense of responsibility is how we try to regain a sense of power out of the powerlessness and chaos of abuse. </p><p></p><p>We grow up believing we don't matter enough for our opinions to matter. We trust our abuser's assessments of who we are because we have been taught not to trust ourselves, not to think for ourselves, not to matter to ourselves for ourselves. Our value to the abuser is as depersonalized objects that can be used to reflect whatever reality the abuser needs to believe.</p><p></p><p>There is something I read once that goes: "Which of us is so unimportant that what passes between us has no meaning?" There was no meaning in our interactions with our FOO. None of it was real. Everything was twisted to serve the dysfunction. </p><p></p><p>This is classic in abuse cases, this business of breaking the spirit. You see the same dynamic at work in prisoner of war camps, in religious cults, in concentration camps.</p><p></p><p>It is how dehumanization is accomplished.</p><p></p><p>It is probable they still do not see us as fully human. </p><p></p><p>They see only themselves.</p><p></p><p>Or maybe I am the one who is not seeing correctly. </p><p></p><p>I know I cannot unsee what I now see. I know I knew it was wrong, what was happening, but what I thought about any of it didn't matter.</p><p></p><p>Now, it does.</p><p></p><p>It matters, to me.</p><p></p><p>It really has nothing to do with whether the same FOO (I love that! FOO!!!! :O) who committed the abuse in the first place is willing to validate anything now or not. It doesn't matter to them whether we require validation to heal the toxicity. If they were people who could empathize to that degree, the abuse would never have happened.</p><p></p><p>But it did happen, and it is still happening.</p><p></p><p>We don't need them to declare and heal ourselves.</p><p></p><p>We are very strong. We have been alone, healing and reviewing our situations and their consequences, for a long time. When we did need them, when we do turn to them, they use our vulnerability to mount attacks that would not otherwise have succeeded. </p><p></p><p>This does not happen in normal families.</p><p></p><p>This is not love.</p><p></p><p>This is dysfunction.</p><p></p><p>That is why they liken dysfunctional families of origin to toxic ponds. It is toxic every time you go there. It isn't toxic one time and freshwater the next.</p><p></p><p>It is toxic, deadly toxic, every time. A finely balanced ecology of toxicity where nothing can change.</p><p></p><p>Maybe they can't help it, either.</p><p></p><p>I wish it had been different. I am losing that fiery focus necessary for figuring it all out. I want to be healthy and strong and to feel joy and contentment and be present, really present. That is being accomplished. I am leaning in.</p><p></p><p>It seemed like I always believed we could all come together somehow, and that we should come together, and that we would be happy when we did.</p><p></p><p>The difference is that I know now I cannot change us.</p><p></p><p>Maybe I am the only one who thinks we need saving.</p><p></p><p>It is all so twisted.</p><p></p><p>I do not require myself to fill any role for them. Not after what they did when my daughter was beat. Before that, there was no way they could touch me or hurt me that mattered for very long. Denial aint just a river in Egypt, right? But for them to have hurt my daughter, for my sister to have stalked her the way she did, and then, hurt her again ~ that matters.</p><p></p><p>Really, it's like: snip.</p><p></p><p>BOOM</p><p></p><p>Probably that's where the fire is coming from to get through this once and for all. I know what they did. What they say doesn't matter. The things they talk about don't matter. They seem united against anything that does not reflect their own reality. Which is a pretty good description of a dysfunctional family, I suppose. </p><p></p><p>That's how the toxicity continues to fuel itself, maybe.</p><p></p><p>I still don't get the win.</p><p></p><p>Cheap trick, right? It's all twisted up.</p><p></p><p>I never had what I think I am grieving when I am sad that I have no family of origin to trust or believe in. Those of us who have those things have so much to be thankful for. Those of us who never had those things...I don't know.</p><p></p><p>We can learn how it all works so we can stop the pain of repeated betrayal.</p><p></p><p>I don't know why it continues to be something I even think about.</p><p></p><p>I will be glad when I am through it.</p><p></p><p>I suppose it is still the surprise of realizing what it really was, all along.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 654890, member: 17461"] I think that feeling of "I am responsible" is twisted into us as an intrinsic part of abuse. It is what abuse [I]is.[/I] Spousal abuse, child abuse, parent abuse, any kind of abuse. Date rape is a form of abuse where the raped woman is blamed, and the abuser believes it is her fault, too. We don't get to protest, we don't get to think our own thoughts or value our own opinions. Our locus of control is not in here, in the heart of us where it belongs. Until we heal and recover ourselves, it is out there, with our abusers. Maybe that sense of responsibility is how we try to regain a sense of power out of the powerlessness and chaos of abuse. We grow up believing we don't matter enough for our opinions to matter. We trust our abuser's assessments of who we are because we have been taught not to trust ourselves, not to think for ourselves, not to matter to ourselves for ourselves. Our value to the abuser is as depersonalized objects that can be used to reflect whatever reality the abuser needs to believe. There is something I read once that goes: "Which of us is so unimportant that what passes between us has no meaning?" There was no meaning in our interactions with our FOO. None of it was real. Everything was twisted to serve the dysfunction. This is classic in abuse cases, this business of breaking the spirit. You see the same dynamic at work in prisoner of war camps, in religious cults, in concentration camps. It is how dehumanization is accomplished. It is probable they still do not see us as fully human. They see only themselves. Or maybe I am the one who is not seeing correctly. I know I cannot unsee what I now see. I know I knew it was wrong, what was happening, but what I thought about any of it didn't matter. Now, it does. It matters, to me. It really has nothing to do with whether the same FOO (I love that! FOO!!!! :O) who committed the abuse in the first place is willing to validate anything now or not. It doesn't matter to them whether we require validation to heal the toxicity. If they were people who could empathize to that degree, the abuse would never have happened. But it did happen, and it is still happening. We don't need them to declare and heal ourselves. We are very strong. We have been alone, healing and reviewing our situations and their consequences, for a long time. When we did need them, when we do turn to them, they use our vulnerability to mount attacks that would not otherwise have succeeded. This does not happen in normal families. This is not love. This is dysfunction. That is why they liken dysfunctional families of origin to toxic ponds. It is toxic every time you go there. It isn't toxic one time and freshwater the next. It is toxic, deadly toxic, every time. A finely balanced ecology of toxicity where nothing can change. Maybe they can't help it, either. I wish it had been different. I am losing that fiery focus necessary for figuring it all out. I want to be healthy and strong and to feel joy and contentment and be present, really present. That is being accomplished. I am leaning in. It seemed like I always believed we could all come together somehow, and that we should come together, and that we would be happy when we did. The difference is that I know now I cannot change us. Maybe I am the only one who thinks we need saving. It is all so twisted. I do not require myself to fill any role for them. Not after what they did when my daughter was beat. Before that, there was no way they could touch me or hurt me that mattered for very long. Denial aint just a river in Egypt, right? But for them to have hurt my daughter, for my sister to have stalked her the way she did, and then, hurt her again ~ that matters. Really, it's like: snip. BOOM Probably that's where the fire is coming from to get through this once and for all. I know what they did. What they say doesn't matter. The things they talk about don't matter. They seem united against anything that does not reflect their own reality. Which is a pretty good description of a dysfunctional family, I suppose. That's how the toxicity continues to fuel itself, maybe. I still don't get the win. Cheap trick, right? It's all twisted up. I never had what I think I am grieving when I am sad that I have no family of origin to trust or believe in. Those of us who have those things have so much to be thankful for. Those of us who never had those things...I don't know. We can learn how it all works so we can stop the pain of repeated betrayal. I don't know why it continues to be something I even think about. I will be glad when I am through it. I suppose it is still the surprise of realizing what it really was, all along. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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I miss my sister...for the first time in say 55 years.
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