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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 620257" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Why, that's true, Recovering. Even the feel of not having compassion for myself as I go through this now...that's the feel of my mother. That same being watched through a magnifying glass feeling, that same feeling of FOG.</p><p></p><p>So, this is about the distinction between pity, which speaks of contempt and identifies with the abuser <u>to this day</u>, which is the secret, shaming thing the abuser knows <u>to this day</u>...and compassion.</p><p></p><p>Abuse is such an obscenity. The thing, the power thing that really happens in any abusive situation, I mean.</p><p></p><p>You are right, Recovering. </p><p></p><p>I can see the merit of compassion through your eyes. Not pity, stinking of loss, but compassion, thundering with light and strength.</p><p></p><p>That was the thing so fully a part of the feel of these episodes that I could not separate it out, Recovering. Compassion. Which turns out to be so different a thing than pity. Compassion is what we have for someone determined to walk through a thing. It is bells thundering and sun rising.</p><p></p><p>So, I am dealing with all this on the level before speech.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p></p><p>You are right. I have been as hard on myself as I relive this as my mother was on me to begin with.</p><p></p><p>This is huge, Recovering.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 620257, member: 17461"] Why, that's true, Recovering. Even the feel of not having compassion for myself as I go through this now...that's the feel of my mother. That same being watched through a magnifying glass feeling, that same feeling of FOG. So, this is about the distinction between pity, which speaks of contempt and identifies with the abuser [U]to this day[/U], which is the secret, shaming thing the abuser knows [U]to this day[/U]...and compassion. Abuse is such an obscenity. The thing, the power thing that really happens in any abusive situation, I mean. You are right, Recovering. I can see the merit of compassion through your eyes. Not pity, stinking of loss, but compassion, thundering with light and strength. That was the thing so fully a part of the feel of these episodes that I could not separate it out, Recovering. Compassion. Which turns out to be so different a thing than pity. Compassion is what we have for someone determined to walk through a thing. It is bells thundering and sun rising. So, I am dealing with all this on the level before speech. :O) You are right. I have been as hard on myself as I relive this as my mother was on me to begin with. This is huge, Recovering. :O) Cedar [/QUOTE]
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