Surviving parent, whom I love, sad that his kids are estranged

[BusynMember]

I think my mom and my sister see nothing wrong in anything they do.

This is the root of a dysfunctional, sick family. My mother never felt she did one thing wrong to me, which is amazing. My brother? We were so close growing up that I can't imagine what his gripes are, unless he believed our Mother. I'm sure she had her stories. My sister takes absolutely no responsibility for her part either, although I have e-mails that show how hateful she was at times.

All three of us were hurt badly by our parents and how we were raised, although brother and sister would never admit that. It is hard to look honestly at your mother and say, "Man, she taught us nothing and encouraged division." It took me years and years to go that far, but it is how she parented. And my father was not home at all to see it. It is hard to admit, yet a relief once it is accepted. At least...I think so.

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

It is hard to admit, yet a relief once it is accepted. At least...I think so.

Yes.

We fight the truth for a long time. The story is so ugly. And we are so ashamed that these terrible things should have happened to us ~ that someone should have decided to hurt us, and not to love us, at all.

Surely, we tell ourselves, these things we remember did not really happen. Surely, we are wrong in our thinking. And what in the world is the matter with us, that we think this way? And we decide to try harder, to be kinder, to do our best we know no matter what they say or do. Even when, like me, our own mothers raise their hands to us and we are 60 and they are 80 and the mother thinks that is a fine joke and we don't but we laugh, anyway.

And then one day, we are shunned.

Or we are shunned, again.

And we let it happen because we cannot stop it from happening. And it hurts us; and we begin to shrivel and die, inside. And the abuser celebrates, and all their little mini-abusers, feeding on our pain and confusion just as surely as they did ~ all of them ~ when we were defenseless little girls, or defenseless little boys.

Only this time, we have one another, here on FOO Chronicles.

And so, we validate one another's realities. We witness one another's stories. We grow stronger; one day, we find ourselves stepping away from the whole, sordid mess.

Done.

Finally.

***

It is close to impossible to assign responsibility for what happens in our families of origin. (And that is an important piece. Until we know what happened and until we know that it really did happen just as we remember it, we cannot name the perpetrator guilty. Instead, we excuse them and blame ourselves for what they have stupidly, repetitiously, endlessly ad nauseam, done. Believing we are somehow responsible for the hurt they do us, we go through the rest of our lives trying to make amends for whatever made our people hate us.

We even let our sisters in on the act.

And we...well, we are shunned, again.

Huh.

Funny, how that works, before we can see it for what it is.

And we find a good therapist (or a bad one) or...we find someone else to abuse us. So we can have a look at this dynamic right close up. And one day, we realize the old abuse and the new abuse are very different things. It is not that our new abusers see the same truths that made our old abusers hate us. And we learn: Abusers abuse because they are abusers.

Nothing in the world to do with us.

And we tell our current abusers to take a hike and decide to have a look at
the pointless cruelty in our dysfunctional families of origin, too.

Yay for us.

Only this time, we come out looking way better and the dysfunctional family members...they don't come out of it very well, at all. In fact, we get it that they look just like the kind of people who would knowingly hurt a child, or betray a sibling.

Who would, in my mother's case, knowingly, willfully, hurt more than one child.

And then, finally, one day, we stop protecting our sisters, in our thinking. Our sisters who, it turns out, have been stabbing us in the back (along with Mother) since they were old enough to hold a metaphorical knife.

And I realize the sisters hold a certain claim to innocence because they were formed too at the abuser's behest.

But still.

We were formed there, too. We did not do that to them.

In their defense, I will say the role of protector was already taken by us.

That is why they do not see how wrong it is for them to believe we should still be taking the hits for them. They blame us for everything and hate us for something I still don't understand but oddly enough, don't care very much about any more.

It just is what it is.

Out they go from that special place in my heart.

I read something once on Facebook about how we should not f*** with someone who is loyal to us.

***

There is no "reason" for what they did. There is no "out of control oh feel sorry for me". There is no possible justification that justifies what was bought for the abuser, or the pointless stupidity of the hurt for all of us to this day.

It is better to know.

***

We see these things, these kinds of abuses every day ~ in slavery, in misogyny, in racism, in all fanaticism. Our abusers were nothing special. Run of the mill people caught up in something evil.

Whatever.

None of that matters, not now. We all do our best; their best requires a victim; someone to make them feel they are better than they believe they are. It's a sad little circle, really. Who cares what they did when we were little. What matters is that we get them out of our heads, now.

And out of our hearts.

They lie.

***

It is absolutely impossible, until we are well on our way in our healing, to assign responsibility for what we did not get. Because all those good things that did not happen for us taught us who we were, too. All those good, good teachings, having to do with warmth and honesty and safety, which might have taught us trust.

Trust is essentially the ability to trust that we are enough; to trust that we belong.

True presence begins when we understand that the Earth rejoices in the vibration of our footsteps; rejoices in the knowledge that at last, we have come. And with the understanding that this is true of every thing, and even of time.

That is where we are going.

It has to do with Benedictines, and with the Buddhist concept of work, and with Copa's concept of the reclamation of our internal Germany. It has to do with Jacob, and with slavery, and with how it was that Jacob could know himself as free, though he had been sold by his own family too, those dirty rats.

***

None of those things matter now because it is over. What happened to us, for good or for bad, cannot be unlived. But in assigning responsibility for the bad and for the good too, we choose to name and therefore, save ourselves. It is less about crying that we have been victimized (though we have ~ but we can't change that) than it is about refusing any longer to carry the onus of a series of moral failures we did not commit.

These things that happened to us should not have happened to anyone. Yet, they do happen, every day. Terrible things happen in this world, every day. If we are ever going to stand up to that, we must stand up first to the morally deficient messages still hissing away on those negative tapes that define our perceptions of self to this day.

Cedar

 

[New Leaf]

I read something once on Facebook about how we should not f*** with someone who is loyal to us.

WOW this rings a bell....FB quote from Sis to me.......hmmmmmmm.

None of those things matter now because it is over. What happened to us, for good or for bad, cannot be unlived. But in assigning responsibility for the bad and for the good too, we choose to name and therefore, save ourselves. It is less about crying that we have been victimized (though we have ~ but we can't change that) than it is about refusing any longer to carry the onus of a series of moral failures we did not commit.

So very true, the past is the past, and I do concur, important to examine to reclaim ourselves.....that inner child that is waiting for affirmation.

These things that happened to us should not have happened to anyone. Yet, they do happen, every day. Terrible things happen in this world, every day. If we are ever going to stand up to that, we must stand up first to the morally deficient messages still hissing away on those negative tapes that define our perceptions of self to this day.

Absolutely agree. I will burn the tapes in a New Years bonfire........

Mahalo Cedar
(((HUGS)))
leafy

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

WOW this rings a bell....FB quote from Sis to me.......hmmmmmmm.

Really? Do you know why, Leafy?

Cedar

 

[BusynMember]

The story is so ugly. And we are so ashamed that these terrible things should have happened to us ~ that someone should have decided to hurt us, and not to love us, at all.

Yep. And in my opinion worse when siblings refuse to accept that they happened at all.

This is why we need to talk to professionals or caring others and repeat our stories as we recalled them. We need validation that our experiences were abusive. I have heard from early on in my life, "That WAS abuse." There was no therapist or non-therapist I ever told my experiences to who felt that I was not abused and damaged from it. Nor did they feel my siblings, by the things I knew for sure about them, were unscathed. In fact, my sibs have a much harder time with intimacy than me...they have such a hard time getting close to people. They may have friends, but not close friends who know them well.Yet they won't blame Mother or t he dysfunction in our family.

It is mandatory that we listen to those who have had better lives than we did (as children) or who lived in loving homes and can show us their shock at hearing things like:

"When I held you in my arms after I gave birth to you, I felt nothing, absolutely nothing."

"You stiffened in my arms as an infant so I didn't hold you. I propped a bottle."

"It's ok that my brother calls you, my three or four year old daughter 'The Brat.' I will even chcukle." (paraphrased, this one is, but true)

"Not one of you has given me one moment's pleasure. Not one." (This was not my mother, but another abusive comment shouted at me. Well, at least it was directed at ALL of us...lol)

"You are stupid."

"You are so selfish! All you care about is baseball and hockey!" (This was spoke with mocking and was much longer and spoken in front of my precocious, all ears brother.

"YOU CUT YOUR HAIR! IT LOOKS SO HORRIBLE! YOU RUINED YOUR LOOKS!" (to a teenage me)

"Girls don't have to be smart. They just have to be beautiful."

I could go on and on. That's why these Chronicles helped me so much. I could write everything that was in my heart and not hold back. Many things came back to me that I'd forgotten by writing so much. I am so peaceful now and hope you get there too. You all will. It just takes time and realizing our family members who shun and belittle us are just disturbed people who need to feel that their parents were fine. My mother wasn't, but she was the worst to me. But my mother did none of us any favors when we were children and it impacted all of our lives as adults. That is a fact that I have seen and accept. She was a terrible mother who was difficult her entire life from what i have been told.

 

[New Leaf]

Really? Do you know why, Leafy?

Yup, I do. We were both upset. Remember, I wrote of her moving over here, lock, stock and barrel?
We had a pretty okay long distance relationship phone-wise. It was a crazy dream, we were supposed to be best friends on into the sunset of our lives.
Looooong story short, it seemed from the get go of her arrival, she was not "feeling" it. I was busy coaching and clearing a space in our yard for her "tiny house". She just wanted to go to the beach and cruise. I was like "I have only a certain amount of time off to work at this" I knew it was crucial for her to have her own space. She kinda half heartedly applied for jobs, my Hoku said "Mom, she is folding her applications...who will hire someone that folds their application?" (Hoku can not stand her aunty, by the way...)

Looking back, it seems she knew it was a mistake early on.
(My brother laughs and says "You did not actually think it was going to work, did you?')

Honestly, I think I had reverted back to my teen years, just wishing, hoping we could be friends. All of those years, looking out my window, as my popular sis, went off with her friends.......friends. SIGH.

Back to the experiment gone wrong......

Then.....I had a race on an outer island and went for the weekend.....came back, she was in an uproar over my grands......"anxiety, freaking out, can not sleep, how can you handle this......" I had spent many a time explaining to her the hard situation we were in, her response was that she would come and "fix" things.....

Well, basically hubs "exterminated" her, with the reality of the chaos she had entered. He "invited" Tornado and Volcano, the hooligans (loving nickname for my crazy grands) for the weekend we were away. He has never, ever called them up and said, "Hey come spend the weekend"..... I think hubs, knew exactly what he was doing, though he will never admit to it. The resulting dramatic weekend of extreme exposure cinched the deal, sent her packing.......

When I came home, I was shocked with the news, that she had made reservations to leave, within the week.
She broke this news to me, through my daughter.
"Mom, aunty is leaving."

Huh?

I was shocked, and sad, and mad. Then came the accusations, like I had somehow tricked her into coming.
Oh that really made me mad, it was so not true.....


She had been my phone buddy, I would call her and share my feelings with her. I also told her many times, she should just come over for a couple of weeks, and see if it was really what she wanted.....

Sorry, this is turning into a book.

Anyhow, the week was not a fun one. I could not speak with her, I was so upset. I told myself, "I am not going to pretend, anymore, I am not going to deny my feelings, anymore." So, I didn't. I think this shocked her. I was normally the "complacent" one. The "easy going" one acquiescing to keep the "peace".
"Can't we just have fun this last week I am here?"
I was pissed and hurt and deeply sad. I had built up this silly dream, that it would work. I was lonely, my whole family being so far away.......

So, I did NOT play the role. This upset my sister to no end. She posted some stuff on FB, I responded with songs describing my feelings (are you surprised?)

That is when the loyal, do not "F' with me post came out.

You know, Cedar, it never would have worked. I am too headstrong, now, to play the role. We would have killed each other.

When I learned she would go live with her friend, I was happy for her, but at the same time, even at this age
I became that lonely girl watching out the window, as my popular sister went out with her beautiful friends.......

Funny, I still tear up over it now. But you know what?
She is telling her friends how awful I was to her. I wouldn't speak with her.
I couldn't Cedar, every time I tried to tell her how I felt, she would shout over me, how hard it was for her.
I was not allowed to speak my mind, as usual. So I stopped talking.

I am glad she is happy. She has found her niche.

I will forever bear this.....but, everything happens for a reason.......and I will be okay. I know more than I would ever have known about our relationship, what my role is supposed to continue to be, and how I do not deserve to be hammered into that old square peg.
The gaslighting.
I got my big girl panties and my #250 reading glasses on now.......

What is the saying from Godfather
1. My circle is small
2. I am loyal to the end
3. Don't "F" me over........

There within lies the big question, how will this turn out in my moms last days? I do not know. I am willing to "bury the hatchet" per se, to bring my mom peace, she wants us all to get along. So, I apply the keep it simple sweetie rule, and do not get into details with sis.
I swallow, real hard, and have light conversations, "yes, sister, everything is just fine........"

Thank you for asking dear

whew-you sure got an eyeful, with that question!
My stomach is churning with the memory of it.......

leafy

 

[InsaneCdn]

In fact, my sibs have a much harder time with intimacy than me...they have such a hard time getting close to people. They may have friends, but not close friends who know them well.Yet they won't blame Mother or t he dysfunction in our family.

SWOT... we have only two options. We either rebel and become something very different from FOO, or we submit, and become like them. They can't see it, because they became more like her, in refusing to rebel. JMO of course

 

[BusynMember]

Ic, you are so right. It is best in my opinion not to feel connected to them just because of dna.

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

we have only two options. We either rebel and become something very different from FOO, or we submit, and become like them.

Yes.

Though there was a time for my family of origin when I think it might have gone either way. Other times, I am certain this is the only way it could have happened.

But I very much miss having a mother to take care of and see safely through, and I miss my sister and brothers, too. And the new babies in the family. Annd my nieces.

The thing is? I never had that Mother I miss, or the sister or brothers I miss. I had something very different than that family I miss. That is why FOO Chronicles is helpful to me.

Cedar

 

[BusynMember]

Cedar, you nailed it. We never had mothers who knew how to nurture or guide so we can only miss a figment of out imaginations. And I have learned long ago to be my own mother. I dont really spend time wishing I had had a mother.

Since I am now the matriarch of my own family I just make sure I am not my mother or anyine in foo. I have gone in a totally different direction and you did too.

Bravo to all of us!!!

 

[Copabanana]

I never had that Mother I miss, or the sister or brothers I miss.

We have variations on a theme, each of us. Different stories. Same consequences.

I cut myself off. I did not miss them at all in those years. While I lived alone and without family, I did not miss them. I knew who they were.

There were 23 years or so of reconciliation. Or the appearance of it. What worked for me was distance there, too.

I could not forgive myself for that as my mother died, and after. Because as she died and after I longed for her.

After, I realized that while there was the appearance of reconciliation, I had not reconciled within myself.

I may have known who my mother was, my sister. I did not know who I was, until my mother was dying and after she died.

I had loved my mother more than I knew. I blamed myself for all of it. I was the only one left to blame.

In FOO I came to face that that had always been true. I had always blamed myself. For all of it. Always.

And worse. I saw my relationship with myself had been shaped in relation to my FOO, with the same distorted mold. And it had carried over to my relationship with my child.

I started this post with the intention to state that there is value that comes from loving them in spite of their -- the only word that comes to mind, unfortunately, is evil.

Now that I come to an end, I realize that we always do, always did love them. Who we did not love was ourselves.

That is what changed. In my case, is changing.

Sad stories. Of resilience and of courage.

COPA

 

[BusynMember]

I had loved my mother more than I knew. I blamed myself for all of it. I was the only one left to blame.

It was a little different with me. I blamed myself, because I was a differently wired child and difficult, but I also knew SHE was to blame as well. She never got a free pass from me, which is probably what she didn't like. Nobody in my FOO got a free pass, not even the grandmother who loved me so much and whom I loved so much in return. But I didn't absolve myself either. I realize now, the family unit, all of them, were a part of the problem, including me. We had stereotyped roles too (Dr. Phil is doing a show on family roles right now...lol).

Golden Child (Bro)
Lost Child (Sis)
Scapegoat (Me)

Digressing, I knew at a very young age that things were kind of crazy in my house and that, while I was part of that crazy, I was not the only one.

I loved my mother once.

I don't know how I feel about sis and bro now. They are not around. I most certainly don't need or miss them.

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

Since I am now the matriarch of my own family I just make sure I am not my mother or anyine in foo. I have gone in a totally different direction and you did too.

I know this on one level, Serenity.

I am learning, now, to balance in that place between understanding that the emotional flavor of my family of origin was actually starkly ugly, and the bright hope of denial, seen in the beauty of the family dinner imagery I still sort of wish for.

Alot.

I still sort of wish for that, alot.

I am balancing between those two things. I can feel the weird soundlessness and push of denial and I can feel myself pushing against it.

Another instance, for us, of proof that the more beautiful the imagery, the more intense and complete the imagery, the more true it will be that the beautiful imagery is denial and that beneath it there is the stark awfulness of how we lived and how we felt and who we had been taught we were.

I always think of Copa's Jacob story, when I think about who we were taught we were. Sold into a life of slavery and yet, though Jacob was indeed a slave for many years, still he did not succumb; did not come to believe who they taught him he was. Maybe that was the lesson in that story, Copa. That Jacob did not require revenge because he never believed he was who they told him he was.

***

It is the strangest feeling, to look straight on at the weird hurtfulness of my family of origin. For those repeated abusive incidents to have kept happening (and for them to be happening still) someone is choosing for it to be that way.
That's where I get all FOG bound and sort of (utterly) lose my bearings. There is still so much vulnerability to those terrible feelings...and to think anyone would pick to do that ~ especially to her own children, especially to the children of her sibs, blows me away.

And they kept choosing that too, and they are still doing so today or I would not be shunned.

And I keep saying I don't get the win. But I do. I do, now.

I'm just having a little (alot of) trouble accepting it. But I am getting there.

***

So, the key to all this is judging. I am making value judgments and knocking my own socks off. It is like that father wrote us once on PE: Accept. Do not allow judgments. It is what it is. No value judgment is going to affect what is happening, or what has happened.

Radical acceptance will help us here, as well.

Radical Acceptance.

No value judgments.

Detaching from our own emotional reactions. Just like we have learned to do when bad things happen with our kids.

Detach from the emotions.

Radical acceptance.

Balance.

***

It doesn't make intuitive sense that any person would manipulate family relationships the way it seems still to be happening in my family of origin. I have a feeling almost like backwash, in that I begin to lose track of myself in it. It seems so impossible to believe that it could be as I remember it. I wonder what kind of person I must be, to think like this about my own family. We have been at this, here on FOO Chronicles, long enough for me to understand that what I am feeling is denial.

It will pass; there will be a time of realization. I will probably be angry for a time.

And to be angry at what happened is to reclaim ourselves.

It is very hard to believe our own stories. Probably it is true that if we had not turned those ugly things into hope for the future, we would not have come through it healthy and sane and able to love.

Not to be loved; not that until we had our children.

But to love, as Copa describes the Sleeping Beauty kiss.

***

I read the sites referenced for us here and learn there are other families where the same kinds of things are happening. Then, I feel less guilty about the way I think about my Family of Origin, now. Maybe, this is what it feels like to stand up again, when we have spent our lives excusing the inappropriate behaviors of those we love. Except that those I thought I loved...I don't know. They never loved me.

I am so surprised about that; and it leaves me feeling really quiet.

How could they not love me.

But because they do not, I believe that no one else can, either. When I was a young girl, this is what I believed about myself without having to believe it because it never occurred to me to wonder about it.

So...the crux of the issue, you guys.

The heart of the matter.

This is why we feel it would be wiser not to trust that we are loved or even, liked. This is why we feel certain our plans will not come to fruition and why, when we lose our children, we break.

Because of how they see, and because of how they see us, and one another, to this day.

That is the feel of the toxic pond.

It's really awful, you guys.

***

It was Copa's Sleeping Beauty kiss that awakened us: We loved, and our children brought us alive. When we lost them, the old knowings held sway (and our stupidly ridiculous families of origin zoomed right into the heart of the wound to feed, too). That is why we fell apart. It was the old lesson, so we thought. We had been found out. We lost what we had and felt we had been blessed by mistake. We lost what we had and named ourselves: Fraud and Coward and my mother's voice, hissing away with the horrible, horrible words she said then, and the pictures she drew with her words and that smug, evil little half smile.

And I cover that imagery with "I love her."

And we know now, what that means.

Good.

We are about saving ourselves here, and about being strong, healthy moms.

Not about disbelieving or protecting evil. Not anymore.

***

So, those are the places I am trying to come into balance around. It is ~ I don't know why I can't just stop thinking about them. Then, I realize this has nothing to do with them. This is how it feels to heal.

I am doing this for me.

Otherwise, it would be a waste of time. I do see that my family of origin functions through these patterns. Without the patterns, there would be no relationship possible at all. What am I saying. I don't know that what goes on in my family of origin could ever have been qualified as relationship.

We are fortunate to be able to work at this depth.

Thank you, each of you.

That is why my sister needs to have all the stuff and everyone else's stuff too and cannot even allow my brother's grands to be considered special. It is very clear that my sister's grand is the grand. (My grands are older.) Is that it. Is my sister filling some bottomless emptiness with everything and then, taking what she can from her own brothers and sister and even little kids (!) to trick the casual observer, even, and maybe especially, if the observer is herself, into believing that, though we and our offspring somehow never mattered?

Or is it simply that she is evil; that she knew then and knows now exactly what she is doing. Surely that cannot be true.

Then how explain so many things she has done.

***

Sorry, everyone. Looks like this is going to be another long one. I like to figure things out here. When I put these feelings and questions into words for you, then I see them, then I name them, too.

***

Sometimes, because I am becoming healthier, I am able to understand...I am becoming able to connect the feelings brought up for me in say, thinking about spending time with the women who were friends and classmates in high school (Which I did do, last summer ~ but boy, did I not want to. And I tried to weasel out of it. But one of the ladies came to my house, anyway. And now, she has us communicating with one another in the nicest way except I feel all weird and ugly and not like myself, at all in relation to these women so intimately connected to my past, and to that life.) And ~ what am I trying to say, here. I am able to understand those feelings that happen when I think about these women who were young girls when I was a young girl ~ I have been able, recently, to connect the feeling state called by these women now to how hurt I was, then. Not hurt by them, they were very nice. But I was being so roared into at home. That is where the bad feelings are, then and now, too. "Just don't think, Cedar." "Don't you dare." And whatever the other one was.

Those feelings ~ that discrepancy between the way it felt to be me then and the way it feels to be me now ~ that is what I am trying to find a way to hold both aspects of.

And I just know I am going to be getting really mad again.

I realized that while there was the appearance of reconciliation, I had not reconciled within myself.

This is perfect, Copa. (Good Morning, Copabanana :O)

"I had not reconciled within myself." That is what I am trying to do. To reconcile what I know with what I needed to believe to have seen any of them, at all. And what I needed to believe is that there could be family for all of us. And I believed it so strongly that I excused behaviors I should never have allowed. And I think of my sister. And of the pointlessly nasty, immoral things she does ~ immoral because she is the aunt and she used her position to hurt my child. Backwash: They (sibs) were hurt, too.

I am going Mafia don on myself again.

Good.

***

So I am in a little bit of a circle about this. It is (you guys won't believe this one) unusual for me to feel these angry, sullen, resentful feelings. I am uncomfortable with those kinds of feelings. I am afraid I will get stuck there and turn bitter. But I did not get stuck there last time this happened, and I did learn things about my upbringing that I needed to stop fooling myself about.

So, that is where I am going next.

But it is like all the other barriers we've broken through. I feel all fogbound and disoriented for a number of days afterword.

***

I was just thinking about my sister's rotten behavior when my daughter was so sick, and so vulnerable, and the way my sister honed in on that. It's unbelievable, really. I mean, part of me actually doesn't believe she meant it. Part of me understands that not only did she mean to, but that she has done it before. That this is who she is.

And who she has always been, even when I was that young girl whose memories are so heavy. I feel like the Mafia: We can be at war forever and do terrible things to one another. But leave the families ~ leave the children, alone. So, in The Godfather, if someone had hurt one of the children or even, one of the wives (or for me, hurt D H ~ which they did) that makes them worse than animals.

And I am so angry, you guys.

Because I am the one who trusted and they were the ones hurt.

***

For anyone still with me here, back to the high school friends who are women now, and whom it really is an amazing thing to know now, as grandmothers and as women who have lived lives.

I wonder if they knew, when we all were young. And I know that of course they didn't. But I did, and those feelings about who I am from that time are so awful, are so radically different than how I feel about myself now, that I don't know what to do with them. I understand that I need to find some way to face those feelings; I know I need to hold myself with compassion. I get that part. But the negative tape feeling, that nasty, toxic slew of emotions and self interpretations is ~ I don't know. It breaks my heart, to understand that is how I felt about myself. And I see my mother plain as if it were all happening this minute. And I hear her words, and I know that I believed her.

Whatever.

I am being all confusing because I am only just beginning this work.

But man, these feeling states are something else.

Mafia don is a new feeling for me, too. Maybe, that is where I am backing away. Not from what they did, but from what I want to do about that.

Copa, it is like when you post about stepping back, about choosing to have less, for the sake of your sister.

And then all at once, you want to say what they look like to you now.

I want to say it, and never believe in them again.

***

It shakes me in some intrinsic way to come into believing the why behind what happened ~ and behind what is still happening.

What kind of people did I grow up around.

I am having toxic shock.

And at first, I was going to make a joke about that but I feel too avalanche ~ mud avalanche, with rocks in it and not clean, white snow.

Cedar

 

[Copabanana]

I always think of Copa's Jacob story,

Joseph, Cedar.

I will go back and read your post. Should we continue with Joseph? I would like to.

COPA

 

[BusynMember]

But because they do not, I believe that no one else can, either.

This is one thing I never believed, although I understand the thinking. But I hope you stop believing it too because your husband and, yes, your kids do love you.

Just because damaged people in FOO, even mothers, didn't love us, so what? This in no way means others won't see our good qualities. Although it hurt me very much that my FOO was scapegoating m e and did not seem to value me, in no way did I think most people thought like they did and I wasn't surprised that I found love. And, Cedar and Copa, neither should the two of you. Damaged people don't love us I know, I know. "If Mama don't love me, who will?"

Answer: Heck, a lot of people who do not have the foggy glasses our mothers wore. They didn't know enough about us to love us. I am always surprised at how my mother perceived me. Nobody else...not one person outside of my FOO...thought so. I can only deduce that she was wrong. She did NOT have the best insight in the world. Even my ex thought I was a very good person and generous (his words). And my new family? I've been with my ex and my new family longer than I was ever with FOO, and they don't see me the way my FOO did. I think that means they are wrong. Same with you two!!!

In my case, it is my siblings who can not find love, not me.

 

[Copabanana]

though Jacob was indeed a slave for many years, still he did not succumb; did not come to believe who they taught him he was. Maybe that was the lesson in that story, Copa. That Jacob did not require revenge because he never believed he was who they told him he was

M is like Joseph. He does not let what others do to him touch him. To him it is about them, them and themselves. Like it is for me and myself. I am learning that.

Today M's niece came again (when she knew M would not be here.) She came last night. This is the niece that told M's kids she would report him to immigration. She is the daughter of the evil sister, the one who plotted to take the parents' house.

Ostensibly she came to help with reconciliation, but we do not think that now. We think she came to lay the groundwork to ask for money, inventing an unbelievable story. For me. One that made me feel dirty and unsafe. In my own home.

She told me that her rental car with shot with bullets by a car that was following her and a man. She said she wanted $500 to pay the deductible for her insurance. She works full time. She did not want to tell her mother. I told her I did not want to be involved.

We believe she may be selling drugs. And the money is for something related to drugs. She is a college graduate. Working as a teacher's aide.

Why do I feel dirty and corrupt, when it has nothing to do with me?

You see. I am not like M. I believe it happens to me. Around me. I did something wrong to deserve it. Or I am bad and that is why bad things happen around me.

I think part of it is faith, too. Why Joseph did not need revenge or feel it in his heart. He believed, like M does, that everything comes out in the wash. That we are punished by our evil deeds and evil hearts. He does not need revenge because he believes the consequences will always accrue to the bad actor. Even if it does not seem to be the case. Especially if it does not seem to be the case.

He once said about my sister that she was going to have a horrible dying. Because of all of the evil in her heart that she will not have the means to defend against when any power she has, no longer exists.

Accept. Do not allow judgments. It is what it is. No value judgment is going to affect what is happening, or what has happened.

Yes. A neutrality. Meeting anything and everything head on.

Today I told M, I am afraid every time the phone rings. He responded, that fear has got to stop. What does that help, he said? To be afraid. What is going to happen will happen. You will meet it if it does.

But see, ultimately, I live in a very, very dangerous world. Because harm always is circling to threaten me. Because it is what I must feel I deserve.

I have been organizing papers. My life has been out of control now for a long time. I have no idea how much I spend. Or have. Or have lost. From this internal dread, I create chaos, create the possibility of dangerous and fearful consequences for myself. This is how I feel comfortable. It must remind me of my life before. The word for that is ego-syntonic. Danger and threat, feel like home to me. That is what ego-syntonic means. There is no dissonance. I have no dissonance to danger and risk. I guess that is why I worked in prisons. It feels like home.

M lets everybody else construct their own prison. He does not buy in. He does not buy in to what they do or say to him. Or tries not to. Because he knows it is about them. On them and in them. He only gets mad if it is children or his mother who they affect.

He said: These people their lives are out of control. Chaos. Everything is a lie and falling apart. And they go down to Mexico feeling they are superior and can put their hands in everything to fix problems there. They make huge messes for everybody. Chaos. When their own lives are a havoc.

But there is not a personal piece of him--an internal rage--that gets triggered. There is no desire for vengeance--because it is not about him.

That is where we are going too. (*I used a Cedarism here.) We are going to a place where there is order and tranquility. Where our homes and affairs and internal lives are islands of internal coherence, awareness and balance. Where we are open to all of the good, and fear and disorder and threat do not touch us. Not because we do not recognize it. But because we do not own it. We do not accept it or call it our own.

Except that those I thought I loved...I don't know. They never loved me.

Cedar, they loved you as they love. Not as you needed to be loved, deserved to be.

How could they not love me.

They could not love you as you needed, because they were not capable of it. They could not conceive of the love you needed. They only recognized you based upon who they were. They never understood you. They lacked essential parts of themselves to do so.

It was not a choice not to love you, Cedar. They love you in the way they can. They love you as much as they are able. You decided it was not enough. Or that the type of love they gave was hurtful or insufficient so as to compensate you for the danger and hurtfulness of their love.

But because they do not, I believe that no one else can, either. When I was a young girl, this is what I believed about myself without having to believe it because it never occurred to me to wonder about it.

Yes. This is complicated and painful to look at. Because our lives have been so hard and cold in this place. Maybe we will be able to go there together.

This is why we feel it would be wiser not to trust that we are loved or even, liked. This is why we feel certain our plans will not come to fruition and why, when we lose our children, we break.

This is painful, here. This part. I did not quote the context so I am unsure to what the "this" refers.

I looked back and saw that the "this " refers to being unlovable.

In my case because I blamed myself, I was unlovable I think because I was angry. There was something damaged and out of control in me. Maybe my wants. Maybe I felt I was damaged because I wanted love and needed care in a way I never got. Everything got all mixed up inside me. Cause and effect. Self and other.

I believe M loves me. I love him. I am not out of control. I am not angry. What I feared in myself did not come to be. But it did happen when my son began to have real problems and I blamed myself. And so did everybody else, it seems.

When we lost them, the old knowings held sway (and our stupidly ridiculous families of origin zoomed right into the heart of the wound to feed, too). That is why we fell apart. It was the old lesson, so we thought. We had been found out. We lost what we had and felt we had been blessed by mistake.

We had been found out. I did not deserve to be loved because I was too mad.

what goes on in my family of origin could ever have been qualified as relationship.

Yes.

Is my sister filling some bottomless emptiness with everything and then, taking what she can from her own brothers and sister and even little kids

This is who she is, Cedar. As is my own sister, in her own way. And M's sister, too.

But I did, and those feelings about who I am from that time are so awful, are so radically different than how I feel about myself now, that I don't know what to do with them.

With me, I think I am in touch with those feelings, to some extent. For the majority of my life, I was alone. I did not have a protective cocoon around me of somebody who loved me.

Mafia don is a new feeling for me, too. Maybe, that is where I am backing away. Not from what they did, but from what I want to do about that

The anger that I thought I had was a screen emotion. Underneath I am not angry. Just sad and afraid. Vulnerable.

Copa, it is like when you post about stepping back, about choosing to have less, for the sake of your sister.

I know I did that. Do that, still. I fear so.

I do not understand exactly to what you refer in yourself. Can you say a bit more?

COPA

 

[Copabanana]

Just because damaged people in FOO, even mothers, didn't love us, so what?

Thank you, Serenity. Yes. You are correct.

But the thing for me was this: I was afraid to let anybody love me, because I felt the problem was me. In me. That there was something about me that was intrinsically unlovable.

I was afraid to let somebody love me. I trusted nobody. Because I did not trust myself.

I think I thought my love and wanting had destroyed my father.

None of it I chose. None of it was rational. It took a lifetime to come to grips with.

Thank you.

COPA

 

[BusynMember]

I understand. But you know better now. Some of us dont click with our foo. That doesnt at all mean it is our fault or that you wont click with others. Its a big world out there.

M sounds wise and wonderful. He sees what your foo missed about you. Often our foo dont get us. I know from what sis has written that she doesnt get me. Thats ok. I have so much love now. Im glad I wasnt afraid. Im glad you arent afrsid anymore either. You are a good person. If your foo cant see that, it is their loss.

 

[Copabanana]

He sees what your foo missed about you. Often our foo dont get us.

Thank you, Serenity.

I think my mother loved me. But I was not strong enough to love her--be with her and love her. She was intense and demanding. I became frightened and small around her. I felt consumed.

I could never have made my life what I did, or made myself as I am, around her. Because I could not treat myself with value, if I was near her. I felt too guilty.

My mother was a prima donna. I diva.

It was so surprising to her at the end of her life that I had become a strong and confident person. I think she was glad. But behind closed doors, I became small again, even after I changed. With her, at home, I became small.

It is all so sad for me, still. It is good to write the truth but it still hurts to do it.

I wish I could feel mad at what happened to me. I wonder if it would help. I wonder if I will ever permit it, now that my Mother is gone.

Thank you Serenity.

COPA

 

[BusynMember]

But I was not strong enough to love her--be with her and love her. She was intense and demanding. I became frightened and small around her. I felt consumed.

Copa...you still loved her. It is NOT your fault that she was demanding and scared you. She didn't have to relate to you that way. She in my opinion should have seen that it drove you away. It's the parents who need to figure out the child and then act accordingly. We are not cookie cutter people. Often childhood roles remain in adulthood so nothing changes. You can not blame yourself for not being with her. Adult children move, get careers, go on to have families and kids, and their own lives and mothers have to do the same and be happy for their grown kids and have their own lives. Gosh, I never want to be that parent who calls her kids saying, "Love me!!! I'm your mother! Leave your family and pay attention to ME." I do have a busy life, even now that I am still in recovery over the accident. My kids love me, but they don't have to call me every minute or beg for my presence or give up their own dreams to sit and hold my hand. That's more narc parenting...you try to hang onto and boss around your grown kids for your own advantage. I'm not saying your mother did this. I'm saying it was normal for you to spread your wings as an adult.

I felt small around my mother too. She was so belittling all my life. Everything I did that I knew was positive, she turned to a negative. Both my husbands were trash (she hated both), but when I divorced the first one and told her, her first words were "Well, don't expect ME to help you!" Like I'd ask her for that. Like I thought she would...lol When I adopted kids, "You're just doing it for the MONEY.? Yeah, sure. The money WE paid to adopt them, all except for Sonic. What a mean thing to say. But that was her. When I had my first date after seperating from first husband, she said, "You're still married a nd you're dating. I WOULD NEVER DO THAT!" Um, yeah. I was not living with my soon to be ex and divorce papers had been filed. I wonder if she would have said the same to my sister if my sister had confided in her that her first boyfriend after leaving her husband (and I believe she was still legally married too) was a married man. But my sister knew how to work my mother. She would never have told her. It took me a long time to realize I shouldn't tell my mother anything because she'd just belittle it. Nothing about me was good, even if what I did WAS good, if you know what I mean. So I detached from her. I was grandma's girl and certainly favorite and at least I had that. Maybe my grandma was the reason I felt worthy of being loved. The fear of intimacy is very strong with both my siblings, but I never was afraid to try.

I digress. You reached out to your mom w ith phonecalls. That's all you can do when you live far away and it's loving. My son Bart is too far for me to see more than once or twice a year and he calls me every single day and, now that he is no longer under stress, we have nice talks. I know he trusts and loves me. I don't need him to be sitting beside me. Your mother knew you loved her.

Copa, you did right by your mother. Perhaps sh e did not do right by you, but you did right by her. And you did right by your son. He reaches out to you, as my grown kids reach out to me. All of them and often. They don't have to reach out to us, but they love us and value us so they do. Yes, your son values you, even if he is sometimes mean. He doesn't have to call you at all, but he does. M. values you and he seems like such a smart and wise man.


You are good. You are valuable. You are my dear friend. And you are enough. Hold your chin up. You did nothing wrong.