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Family of Origin
Relationship Patterns / Dysfunctional FOO Issues
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 671169" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>This is crucial, Copa. </p><p></p><p>If we are dependent, then the choice we make is not really a choice.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I think two years ago, Copa. I had begun thinking differently about family of origin, and about myself. I wanted to talk and talk about them, about me, about what everything meant. Once I was not seeing them, once my mother was not at our house as she chose, once I was not calling her every night, D H just wanted to forget about them.</p><p></p><p>I didn't.</p><p></p><p>Nor did I see why I should; nor could I. I needed to know what had happened, how it could be that my own mother and sister were treating me this way.</p><p></p><p>D H did not want to hear about them, anymore.</p><p></p><p>I was suffering, and I was suffering alone and was supposed to do it quietly.</p><p></p><p>That is why D H threw our dinner over the railing.</p><p></p><p>Because I no longer saw any reason to stop anything because he said so, or to take his interpretation of events over my own.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I also have a plan to leave, and an envisionment of what that life would be like. The most important piece of that is knowing there is nothing, not one thing, I need to do right this minute. Another important piece is understanding that I cannot know how any of that is going to look until I am in it. So, no need to plan, then.</p><p></p><p>A kind of quiet descended. </p><p></p><p>I changed.</p><p></p><p>D H felt it.</p><p></p><p>And changed, too.</p><p></p><p>But it was tough, and it wasn't pretty. When I look back now, I realize I knew so little that was real about my D H.</p><p></p><p>Isn't that something.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Raising our children, D H and I were in a very different place. He was strong and handsome and important and I was strong and beautiful and important in my own way. It was all about family and houses and pets and school and kids and other moms. The kids got older. I went back to work. </p><p></p><p>Then, our family seemed to fall apart, and things got very real, very fast.</p><p></p><p>I had changed. D H had changed. With first one child and then, the other in trouble, neither of us seemed to be the parent we had believed ourselves or the other to have been. I think we hated one another because we could not see one another as the hero, as the wonderful mother, as successful people, as wonderful parents.</p><p></p><p>Like I said Copa, things got very real, very fast.</p><p></p><p>It was all very ugly.</p><p></p><p>I don't know why D H stayed with me.</p><p></p><p>The kids were in so much trouble; there were grandchildren.</p><p></p><p>D H just kept pulling me out of it. We sold a house, bought another, went on vacation. D H changed our lives altogether but I was never really present to him. I was so focused on the kids and then, the grands. It was after I got detachment theory as a benefit to the kids that I ~ I don't know, Copa. Became present to my own life again, maybe. I had worked and taken classes and done all kinds of things, of course, during that time, but what I was really doing all those years was focusing on my kids.</p><p></p><p>But it would be like, every time I looked up...there was D H.</p><p></p><p>And as I have come through the work we have done here in FOO Chronicles...there is D H.</p><p></p><p>And I like him so much, and find him ethical in the heart of him whereas before, he was a hero figure bigger than my mother. (Safe in the way you define M as safe maybe, Copa.) More than anything, he was a hero figure. I always thought he knew everything. Now, I get it that he doesn't, that he does not automatically know, anymore than I do. I realize I can be pushy and nasty sometimes in my attitude and thinking and behaviors without meaning to...and here, I thought I was ~ I excused alot of really crummy behaviors and was of thinking about my D H on my part.</p><p></p><p>It has been quite humbling, to realize that. To acknowledge it. </p><p></p><p>At the bottom of all that perfection was...shame.</p><p></p><p>Under shame, there is me.</p><p></p><p>Isn't that something.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>Remember we were posting about the uncertainty in functioning outside a role? That desire to go back to the safety of a role is very strong, but we can't do it, anymore. Maybe that is the downside of reclaiming ourselves.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 671169, member: 17461"] This is crucial, Copa. If we are dependent, then the choice we make is not really a choice. I think two years ago, Copa. I had begun thinking differently about family of origin, and about myself. I wanted to talk and talk about them, about me, about what everything meant. Once I was not seeing them, once my mother was not at our house as she chose, once I was not calling her every night, D H just wanted to forget about them. I didn't. Nor did I see why I should; nor could I. I needed to know what had happened, how it could be that my own mother and sister were treating me this way. D H did not want to hear about them, anymore. I was suffering, and I was suffering alone and was supposed to do it quietly. That is why D H threw our dinner over the railing. Because I no longer saw any reason to stop anything because he said so, or to take his interpretation of events over my own. *** I also have a plan to leave, and an envisionment of what that life would be like. The most important piece of that is knowing there is nothing, not one thing, I need to do right this minute. Another important piece is understanding that I cannot know how any of that is going to look until I am in it. So, no need to plan, then. A kind of quiet descended. I changed. D H felt it. And changed, too. But it was tough, and it wasn't pretty. When I look back now, I realize I knew so little that was real about my D H. Isn't that something. *** Raising our children, D H and I were in a very different place. He was strong and handsome and important and I was strong and beautiful and important in my own way. It was all about family and houses and pets and school and kids and other moms. The kids got older. I went back to work. Then, our family seemed to fall apart, and things got very real, very fast. I had changed. D H had changed. With first one child and then, the other in trouble, neither of us seemed to be the parent we had believed ourselves or the other to have been. I think we hated one another because we could not see one another as the hero, as the wonderful mother, as successful people, as wonderful parents. Like I said Copa, things got very real, very fast. It was all very ugly. I don't know why D H stayed with me. The kids were in so much trouble; there were grandchildren. D H just kept pulling me out of it. We sold a house, bought another, went on vacation. D H changed our lives altogether but I was never really present to him. I was so focused on the kids and then, the grands. It was after I got detachment theory as a benefit to the kids that I ~ I don't know, Copa. Became present to my own life again, maybe. I had worked and taken classes and done all kinds of things, of course, during that time, but what I was really doing all those years was focusing on my kids. But it would be like, every time I looked up...there was D H. And as I have come through the work we have done here in FOO Chronicles...there is D H. And I like him so much, and find him ethical in the heart of him whereas before, he was a hero figure bigger than my mother. (Safe in the way you define M as safe maybe, Copa.) More than anything, he was a hero figure. I always thought he knew everything. Now, I get it that he doesn't, that he does not automatically know, anymore than I do. I realize I can be pushy and nasty sometimes in my attitude and thinking and behaviors without meaning to...and here, I thought I was ~ I excused alot of really crummy behaviors and was of thinking about my D H on my part. It has been quite humbling, to realize that. To acknowledge it. At the bottom of all that perfection was...shame. Under shame, there is me. Isn't that something. Cedar Remember we were posting about the uncertainty in functioning outside a role? That desire to go back to the safety of a role is very strong, but we can't do it, anymore. Maybe that is the downside of reclaiming ourselves. [/QUOTE]
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