When parents still abuse their adult children:

[Copabanana]

I can't see the top one, the white part. I only see the black man and black table. What is the white design in the top one, New Leaf? I have never seen that one before.

Thank you.

COPA

 

[New Leaf]

Can you see it now? It looks like a man addressing a board-but I picked it because it kind of had a dinner table feel to it...........

 

[New Leaf]

this one is pretty good.....

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

Where is this quote from, Cedar?

Why is it so hard for us to claim our strength? Why are we both right now dealing with this perceptual issue of volition or subjection?

That is a Cedarism. That quote about marginalized versus having grown beyond them but believing that to have meant chosen against them. I was speaking as you I think, Copa.

***

Claiming strength feels arrogant and foolish in the sense of hubris. Defiance; anger, and self-centeredness instead of happy acquiescence.

Hubris.

Rolling around in the brackish water at the bottom of the well instead of crawling toward the sun at the top and beyond.

I am focused on hubris today. This is what I see in my family of origin.

Swirling around pointlessly the same dark place. But what if we were to declare whatever has been victory? To declare whatever happened in our families of origin to have been the completion, the victorious next step, and to take it from there as you did too Copa (and so did I) in creating the lives we did create in the first place.

We were not wrong.

We did not fail.

This is just what happened, next.

Love them and go on. Love our children without placing blame, and go on. We were healthy moms Copa before the problems became insurmountable and we gave in to fear because we could not protect the kids.

We need to stand up. Oh look: Strength, roaring and raging and overflowing its banks, has been there; all along, it has been intent ~ our intentions ~ that were shattered.

We are recovering intent, Copa. That is why these questions, these concepts, now.

***

Volition: Imagine what I may have said or done to have been told, over and over and over ~ to have been threatened with often enough that these are the words I hear today: "Who do you think you are, Cedar?" "Don't you dare, Cedar." "Just don't think, Cedar."

That is who I am. Not the person to whom those things were spoken, but the person who refused to acquiesce.

That is why those words were spoken, hissed, hurtled across space, spit into my face.

Because of who I am. Futile, last desperate attempts to destroy what could not be destroyed.

What was an emptiness becomes a handhold, a stepping stone, the wind.

Subjection: Mother is pleased. All is well.

That is why maybe, Copa.

We have worked very hard. Our visions are changing.

But as adults alone means individual. It means strong. Independent. With the capacity for self-actualization.

Oddly enough, I missed Joel Osteen last Sunday because I work on Sundays, now. I found last Sunday's sermon on You Tube this morning.

Last Sunday's sermon was on self-actualization.

I was going to reference it for you here, but I cannot find it, now.

Then, I listened to Vivaldi.

***

The essence is that what we see in our minds is what we will move toward; is what we will feel is familiar ground. He suggested that a woman put an empty picture frame next to her bed. The frame was for a picture of herself, all dreams fulfilled.

Within three years, for this woman, the picture would be taken, and the frame, filled.

In the beginning, there was a little frog living in a well on a farm. He was so happy. All his dreams were fulfilled, all his needs met, here in this place with water and more water, with more than enough; and he was so happy. One day, he noticed the light at the top of the well and crawled up the slippery walls to to the top, to check it out.

There was a huge pond.

Beyond the pond, a beautiful lake.

And then, there was the ocean, a thing beyond his wildest abilities to have conceived, from the bottom of the beautiful well, when he believed it to be the world.

***

Then, Joel Osteen went on to say: "Nothing they imagined was impossible to them."

That is why we need to dream bigger than we are, bigger than we know or can believe.

It goes like this: If you can see it, I will bring it to pass.

The way to see differently, the way to create change, is to go a little further, to dream a little bigger. Crawl to the top of the well to see what that is, that thing at the limits of our visions.

That is how we learn to dream bigger.

Hubris would fit in here because it has so little to do with how things actually happen ~ and nothing to do with how change happens. Hubris fits in because I am angry about the way everything is. What if I were simply to accept it and move on, instead of being angry about it.

That is the way we are going next.

This is how we get there. By crawling to the top of the well, which is an easily accomplished thing, to see what that bright light is, one happy day.

Cedar

Thank you, Copa.

You are exactly right.

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

This is a choice point Cedar. You cannot have it both ways. It must be decided. Figure or ground.

"Fear ~ that's the other guy's problem."

Though there are many cool phrases applicable to this part of our process, and though this clip does not take it to the line I was looking for, I included it, anyway. The line I was looking for was: "Why can't we have both?" They were trying to decide, at the end of the movie when they had so much of everything they ever dreamed of, including freedom from his former belief systems for Dan Akroyd, whether to have lobster or filet for dinner on the beach that night.

"Why can't we have both?"

And that is what they decide: We will have both and more and forever.

:O)

But that line is not in the clip.

Cedar

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

That might have been part of the struggle these past 2 plus years, to grow strong enough, to grow into the role I took on at the end of my mother's life. And in a way, at the beginning of my own.

Yes.

:O)

At the beginning of your own.

Who knew?

It has to do with seeing others for who and what they are.

Or with seeing ourselves. With stepping out of the shadow self and understanding it was a construct. Just...stepping aside, and into the Light.

Like the dragonfly imagery.

How different the stars seem, though they are the same stars we loved and had become so familiar with during our lives on the bottom, looking up at the stars from beneath the waves.

Same stars.

So different.

I do not like this, Cedar. Are you saying your mother is a god? To choose powerfully is arrogance? I do not think so. You are so, so hard on yourself. Still. Judgmental.

No. I was so angry at God when these terrible things happened to my children, Copa. There are no atheists in foxholes so they say. I was younger then, and more arrogant and certain of all things. When I did pray, there in that foxhole I found myself in when my children ~ when everything fell apart? I would roar: "Surely You don't mean my children! Surely, You've made a mistake!!! You are mistaken! I refuse to allow this. I will save them myself!"

And we have seen how that worked out.

Here is a true thing I forgot to remember, Copa: I survived everything my mother did. The rest of it was my responsibility. I did, and you did too Copa, create a rich, full life. Looking back now, there are so many things I would have done differently ~ but the truth is I would not have changed that I did try, with my family of origin. The breakage, for me, had to do with my children. That is what broke me. Not my mother or sister...nor could they. I have needed to see differently, have needed to recover from toxicities that were never true. Almost without effort Copa and Serenity, we have done that. Found evidence of trauma, and confronted and cleared it and gone on to the next.

Now, we will begin crawling to the surface, drawn this time by happy curiosity.

Like always.

Cedar

 

[Copabanana]

Thank you, Copa.

You are welcome. Thank you Cedar.

So it is this: You need a bigger dream, Cedar. The family dinner will always be you, too. But you need a bigger dream now. For a grown up Cedar. We will always cherish the family dinner.

That was a beautiful post, Cedar. And this below, beautiful, too:

"I was marginalized...." Versus: "I found in them nothing of value; nothing to hold me but dependence. I rejected dependence...but, ashamed of my strength, and of the courage to have used it to save myself, I did not want to say so, aloud."

In my case I did (and do) feel shame, but underneath the shame is fear, and underneath that I am not quite sure yet but I think it was the belief I would be thrown out of my family.

To declare whatever happened in our families of origin to have been the completion, the victorious next step, and to take it from there as you did too Copa (and so did I) in creating the lives we did create in the first place.

Yes.

Oh look: Strength, roaring and raging and overflowing its banks, has been there; all along, it has been intent ~ our intentions ~ that were shattered.

Yes.

We are recovering intent, Copa. That is why these questions, these concepts, now.

Yes.

Volition: Imagine what I may have said or done to have been told, over and over and over "don't think, Cedar."

Yes.

That is who I am. Not the person to whom those things were spoken, but the person who refused to acquiesce.

Yes.

last desperate attempts to destroy what could not be destroyed.

Yes.

The essence is that what we see in our minds is what we will move toward; is what we will feel is familiar ground.

Yes. I think so. Thus, the scuba, Triathlon, fishing, camping, surfing, open water swim, textile stuff, art stuff, easels, cameras, pretty clothes, jewelry and more jewelry. Winter clothes and boots and gloves and hats. *And dancing shoes of all manner. It was never the stuff. I was buying the props of who I wanted to be, what I wanted my life to be as it ends, as I end it. That is more to the point. I want to decide.

I want to be seen. I want to celebrate and be celebrated. I want to be heard. I want to move. To be active in every way. To be out and about. A part of things. To be outdoors. And I want to create.

Where I live now is secure. I do not want to give that up to have a life. That was the essential fear as a child. To be who I was and needed to be, I could not do. Without being thrown out. That is why I cannot leave my house now, without feeling I will be able to return.

It may not be a coincidence that I awoke this morning feeling defeat and shame. I bought maybe 50 pair of wool socks.

It felt like I gave a party and nobody came.

I fear I will never leave here. And all of these socks. And the jewelry. All of this is for a life that I intended but do not have.

We live in a temperate climate. Not Florida, but we do not have what is a real winter. M has to nag me to put on flipflops and a sweater (over my nightgown) to go to the mailbox which is a block away.

I woke up feeling terribly. It had to do with where to live. Displacement. Wanting to leave and feeling only insecurity and instability in my efforts. In the end, living in a basement apartment and realizing that the exterior door did not have a workable deadbolt and I was afraid somebody would come in and hurt me. I tried to get the manager to help me secure the lock without success.

The garage was in the home where I lived as a young girl. It was my refuge.

He suggested that a woman put an empty picture frame next to her bed. The frame was for a picture of herself, all dreams fulfilled.

Smart.

Within three years, for this woman, the picture would be taken, and the frame, filled.

How wonderful.

Then, Joel Osteen went on to say: "Nothing they imagined was impossible to them."

I think this is what I have been doing. Imagining myself in various facets and doing what I could do in these 2 years plus to make it concrete. With the stuff.

I have felt great insecurity and contempt for myself doing it. I felt out of control. I felt ashamed. I felt and feel foolish. Like all was for nothing.

It feels still like "there is no 'there' there" the famous saying of who was it, the woman write in Paris with Hemingway who was the partner of Alice B. Toklas. She was from Oakland, CA and that was how she described it.

I still feel there is no "here" in me. Just stuff. Until I realize it. Make it actual.

The thing that still trips me up about leaving is the question of the animals. But I think it could work if we ask M's niece and her 3 children to stay here in the house with the animals and go just M and I.

COPA

 

[Copabanana]

"Why can't we have both?"

And that is what they decide: We will have both and more and forever.

You know a few months ago I got enraged at M when he insisted we had to live in just one place. Either stay here or go East. Not both. Because of the logistics of it. (I mean it is across the country. We have 3 animals. I do not drive freeways and he is afraid to drive on freeways with me. I admit it: logistical issues.

I blew a gasket. It felt to me like forcing a choice between dreams and security. He backed down when he saw how upset I got.

I want both.

With stepping out of the shadow self and understanding it was a construct. Just...stepping aside, and into the Light.

Yes. That is exactly what it is Cedar. You are quick. Now you have surpassed me, and I am afraid. It is far easier to focus on you, and not on myself. I am beginning to panic here.

I would roar: "Surely You don't mean my children! Surely, You've made a mistake!!! You are mistaken! I refuse to allow this. I will save them myself!"

I remember a few months ago I called the Child Psychoanalyst we saw for many years. When my son did not want to talk with him, I would. So we know each other well. I stopped when he told me that getting involved with M would be a mistake.

I called him in grief and fear about my son. I told him what the other psychiatrist/psychoanalyst had said about my son. That I had to face his extreme limitation. Could it be, I asked? Did you see it, all those years, I asked?

He responded: No. I saw that he could act servile sometimes, hard on himself, but no, I did not see it.

Could he really be in such terrible trouble from which he will never get better?

He answered: It happens sometimes. It has to happen to somebody.

Railing against fate, is it? Or defying it? Or trying to control it? Rejecting it.

Is that what you mean about hubris, Cedar?

COPA

 

[Copabanana]

Copa: I survived everything my mother did. The rest of it was my responsibility. I did, and you did too Copa, create a rich, full life.

Yes.

I am speaking for me here: I did not create a rich, full life. I created what looked like one. I did the exterior things that were within my grasp to do what I believed would actualize me and provide security and mobility. But I could not really step into it emotionally.

It was not until I adopted my son, I was around 40, that I began to mend. Then 10 years later when we first started leaving the country, was the next phase. And then 10 years after that, when I met M. And now the 2 years plus since my Mother died.

I was not a complete person for most of my life. I believe I am now.

I created what I thought would lead me to a good, rich life. The person who lived it was very limited.

I am filling it out now. With unspoken intentions that I could only until now represent by buying stuff. Now is the part that I feel may be hard.

Except maybe it will not be as hard as I feel.

"Nothing they imagined was impossible to them."

That is why we need to dream bigger than we are, bigger than we know or can believe.

The intentions. Maybe that is why we were not ready for "saudades". We could feel the yearning. But did not have fully formed intentions. But loss or being defensive, in danger, afraid or angry or feeling blocked. We needed intentions. Proudly, without fear. In the light. Not the shadows. The margins.

COPA

 

[Copabanana]

I wanted to let you know that it has been 3 full days that I have not retreated to the bedroom to be by myself. At all I am in the great room/kitchen all day, either with M or with the animals. When M is here I listen to his icky Spanish Language TV--like survivor shows or Catinflas at best. I have been working on paperwork and organizing.

Something shifted. Even though I have been out of bed for a couple of months, I retreated back into a bedroom through a large part of the day and into the night. M would go to bed without me, and be asleep when I joined him. Now we are going to bed and to sleep together. Us and the dogs. I feel much better. More content. I think he does too.

I am not sure what it was that shifted. And I have reduced my buying significantly. Perhaps 75 percent. The last two days I think I bought one thing.

I am not sure what changed. Maybe I did.

Sometimes I feel very bad and ashamed I bought all of that stuff. I will probably try to sell back a whole lot of it. Some I know I will sell. Other stuff I will use as props to see if they fit. But when I start feeling bad I remember that what I was buying was myself. I do not know why or what for, but it seems I was trying to figure out who I would be, what I would be if I could choose. I do not think I ever really did so before.

As I read the above I feel like other people might judge me harshly to equate consumerism with self-awareness, believing me to be vain or self-indulgent. I have nothing to say for myself. It was just this way.

If I had really been able to be intentional from the beginning I would have probably started at where I ended up: Artist-made individual pieces. But I could not hold that intention before I ended up there. I could not know what I wanted. I do not know why. I had to travel there. It makes me feel sad that it had to be that way.

I am beginning to think that we really will go back east. I have not mentioned it to M. But despite the obstacles I am feeling we can go because I will hold it as an intention to do so. I am more afraid to go, and feel less the need to. But I want to. If that makes sense. I am more aware of the richness of what we have here. But want more, if that makes sense.

Thank you all.

COPA

 

[New Leaf]

I wanted to let you know that it has been 3 full days that I have not retreated to the bedroom to be by myself. At all I am in the great room/kitchen all day, either with M or with the animals. When M is here I listen to his icky Spanish Language TV--like survivor shows or Catinflas at best. I have been working on paperwork and organizing.

Copa this is huge, I am so happy for you.

I am not sure what it was that shifted. And I have reduced my buying significantly. Perhaps 75 percent. The last two days I think I bought one thing.

This is another big change for you. Change is not an easy thing.

Sometimes I feel very bad and ashamed I bought all of that stuff......... I do not know why or what for, but it seems I was trying to figure out who I would be, what I would be if I could choose. I do not think I ever really did so before.

You know Copa, people reach out for something, anything to hold onto, when life turns us upside down. Please don't feel badly and ashamed. You are a good person.
I think you just got stuck for awhile, we all get stuck.

As I read the above I feel like other people might judge me harshly to equate consumerism with self-awareness, believing me to be vain or self-indulgent. I have nothing to say for myself. It was just this way.

It's okay Copa, it is not anyones business to judge you for anything. I do not think badly of you, I look at it as just trying different things to step into what may be next for you.

If I had really been able to be intentional from the beginning I would have probably started at where I ended up: Artist-made individual pieces. But I could not hold that intention before I ended up there. I could not know what I wanted. I do not know why. I had to travel there. It makes me feel sad that it had to be that way.

Well, what's done is done, isn't it? You have made great strides in changing, good for you. Now, it is about figuring out what you want to keep, and what to let go. Baby steps.

I am beginning to think that we really will go back east. I have not mentioned it to M. But despite the obstacles I am feeling we can go because I will hold it as an intention to do so. I am more afraid to go, and feel less the need to. But I want to. If that makes sense. I am more aware of the richness of what we have here. But want more, if that makes sense.

Copa, I know you have written about liking the movement of the city.
Did you live on the east coast before?
It does make sense to want more, life is just too short.
For me, I would not like the cold winters.
Would you keep your place where you are at?

Dear friend, you are too hard on yourself.
You have overcome some very earth shaking challenges. I am blessed to have the pleasure to know you through CD.
Thank you for sharing your story, for helping me, and others.
You are a wonderful, caring, warrior sister.
(((HUGS)))
leafy

 

[NC Momma]

Hey there!
Your intro on shunning your children reminded me of a blog post I wrote for my undergrad degree on exclusion vs. inclusion within families. Unfortunately, I could only locate a draft but it is still something that I think you would find interesting. I posted it in this forum.

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

I was not a complete person for most of my life. I believe I am now.

I believe this too, about myself. As though, looking back, there was not enough of me here to create sincerity of relationship, even with my D H. Not in the cascading way I care for him, now. I wonder whether the deepening we all experience as we mature is maturation, or whether I have lived my life sort of functioning on two cylinders instead of six (or however many there are supposed to be), because of the way I was brought up.

Upon reflection, I am certain this is so. That part of what feels so different about me now is maturation, but that the larger piece here is the result of the work we have done here in FOO Chronicles. As I lose touch with the intensity of anger over every little thing having anything to do with family of origin, it seems I am able to trace the patterns in the kaleidoscope.

This ability to keep my sense of self in exploring those chaotic rememberings has everything to do with that feeling of there being more of me here.

As it has been with everything we have learned about ourselves as we have come through this, once we identify what we need, or where we need to mature, or how we were hurt, we can provide those things for ourselves (if our hearts are in it) and heal. This morning, I am thinking that the essence of the harm done to us, when we were hurt in the power-over patterns of relationship in our families of origin, had to do with the capacity for self-determination. Like anyone, we too interpret ourselves through our relationships to our families; we come out of those systems believing that what they've taught us about what matters in a life is true. But for that power-over dynamic (which I still think is the core of the hurt to us) to work, the families had to be structured in such a way that internal locus of control, which is how we come into the world to begin with, was utterly destroyed so that the power-over dynamic could function and the primary abuser could feed.

External locus of control.

I should look this up, you guys, instead of trying to reinvent the wheel, here.

Our families are so busy being devious that there is no energy left for us to proceed into the world believing in ourselves and if we should do so, the primary abuser will do all she can to destroy our blossoming self assurance to maintain the power-over position that enables her to feed her grandiosity.

Anyway.

For us, these ways we have been raised will have affected the self talk involved in our abilities to concentrate.

That is where the difference is, between ourselves and those raised in healthy families.

We cannot (or at least, I could not) concentrate without feeling I was overstepping myself. Even now, when I think of it, I can hear and see my mother, and the words: "Just don't think." "Don't you dare." "Who do you think you are." I think those words and the emotions attending them, which we will have picked up on more clearly than the words themselves are at the heart of the meaning of the negative tapes we hear most clearly around issues of appearance. Appearance is only what we see. It is the tip of a humongous iceberg. In understanding how we have been taght to assess ourselves, we can travel the abuser's path to heal ourselves, not only around issues of appearance, but in how we think about and value everything. To understand the repetitious toxicity circling through those negative tapes regarding appearance was shocking enough, but to understand that same toxicity is functioning in ways we cannot see it ~ in how we read a book, take a test, assess whether we will like or be liked, in how we are jealous and in whether we hate or how we determine to let those things go and how we feel about ourselves once we do ~ even how we look at the weather or the moon ~ all of these simple, basic aspects of self will have been colored and poisoned ~ will have been subverted to the abuser's power-over dynamic.

Those tapes are playing in every aspect of every relationship we have even with ourselves.

But...once we see that, we can so easily declare the abuser's power-over dynamic ~ that "win" I am always posting about ~ for the illegitimate thing it is.

And then, we are free.

Which means it has always been the beliefs imposed upon us in our defenseless childhoods that kept us imprisoned, there in that prison constructed of hatred and lies. As it was, wisely or not, always our choice to function on two cylinders while everyone else was accessing six or eight or however many they could imagine, so we can decide now to fire up as many cylinders as we like, too. Think of the limiting phrases your abusers will have spoken over you: "Just don't think, Cedar. Don't you dare." And whatever the other one was.

And my intention around those phrases is no longer sadness, but anger at the stupidity of any person, parent or teacher or pastor or anyone, who would speak such words to a child.

That is the criminal act involved, here.

They absolutely knew what they were doing, and they knew why.

And they did it anyway.

All the other stuff ~ whatever physical or emotional abuses there were, served that end.

That is why we never got the win.

To us, such things are reprehensible.

***

That is what I think about Copa, when I wonder how it is I feel so differently now, after the work we have done, here. I am able now to understand the family dynamic in a way that is so different than what I am used to. I think the difference could be that I am no longer enmeshed. When we are enmeshed then, I would say it feels like being caught in a net with too many fish, and no once can breathe, and no one is going to escape the pressure.

To not be enmeshed is very quiet.

I have been so painfully sad, or so angry (as you guys know ~ thank you for sticking with me), or have come through times of feeling despicable or superior or ~ on and on in that vein, really. The thing is: Those feelings are all feelings we have in relation to someone else.

And that is enmeshment.

Or, that is external locus of control.

***

We need a role model I think, someone who loves us (or maybe, someone who hates us, like a Marine Sargeant is able to change and motivate his recruits), to recover from this way that we think, I think. I had D H mom to teach me how to love my children, how to hold them; how to believe for all of us when the dark times came; for how to be loyal to a spouse, and how to interact with so many brothers and sisters and their triumphs and losses and how to not turn away from that or use it to somehow elevate myself.

That is the difference, and again, for me, it comes back, as it always does, to recovering internal locus of control.

It was never about discipline, for us I don't think. It was about expectation, and about how to believe in ourselves not with a flare of trumpets, but in everyday ways, such as committing to being kinder to ourselves. That is where we fell under the spell of those negative tapes that we could not hear consciously. We were not aware of their shocking negativity, or of the effect the tapes had on our capacities to give ourselves permission to concentrate.

We are back, in a way, to the thread on work, and on reclaiming Germany. Part of Germany has to do with permission for the expectation of personal excellence in a quest in which the guidelines are not clear and the answers are unknown and so, the only thing firing the quest is pure intention; is our own curiosity. Do you see the strength that would create? That is what was broken, in us. That ability to believe in ourselves in that certain way. For someone whose ability to be present, whose capacity to lose himself or herself in her work, it is not the end result ~ it is never what anyone else might think about anything to do with us, but what matters, to someone who has his or her work and Germany working together, is how the issue is completed; is fascination with the work at hand, whatever that work is.

And with our clarity in our work and with the reclamation of the legitimacy of our Germany, failure ~ in the frightening, global annihilation way we have been taught to know failure ~ that is not even the remotest possibility.

Those feelings we were taught are not real; those globally annihilating senses of illegitimacy were always wrong and are artifacts of abuse we struggle with even now.

Out they will go, as we define them and come through this layer, too.

Cedar

 

[Copabanana]

the essence of the harm done to us, when we were hurt in the power-over patterns of relationship in our families of origin, had to do with the capacity for self-determination

I think I agree with you, Cedar.

I have been doing all of this buying to recover my self-determination, I think.

Like anyone, we too interpret ourselves through our relationships to our families; we come out of those systems believing that what they've taught us about what matters in a life is true.

I am so filled with sadness here, I cannot even stay there.

I was so compromised by my parents as a little girl and as a girl. Imagine my mother marrying that horrible sadist step-father who bullied and humiliated me so. I do not want to minimize the suffering of others, but it was like there was a gestapo and concentration camp in my own home. And my mother and sister were collaborators. And there I was alone. At 11 years old. Ripped away from my neighborhood and town. As long as I was there, by my ocean and beach, I was home. I have never lost that sense of home, there. But that, too, was ripped away. I descended into depression at 13 years old, when we left there. With that, I had lost everything. At 13.

I feel so proud of myself. Right now. M was watching a movie in Spanish the other day about a family of several brothers who during WWII saved 1200 people hiding in the forest and defending themselves. Jewish brothers. The descendants of those people now number 10,000. The movies title, I think, was defiance.

How I found the strength and integrity at 11 and 13 and 15 years old to defy, is beyond me to know. I thank g-d for it. I do.

the families had to be structured in such a way that internal locus of control, which is how we come into the world to begin with, was utterly destroyed so that the power-over dynamic could function and the primary abuser could feed.

Cedar, you and I know what our mother's did. Shaming and mocking and humiliating us. And the rage. Not to mention the rage directed at us.

But the coupe de grace we gave ourselves. We learned to abandon ourselves. That is the part I still struggle with myself. I abandon myself.

For us, these ways we have been raised will have affected the self talk involved in our abilities to concentrate.

Yes. I wonder if this is at work with my driving. Now. It is getting worse and worse. I am still OK during the day in my own town. Outside of it, even on minor highways I am frantic. I used to be OK on country roads. I am not.
At night, now, even at dusk I am frightened. When M is in the car, it is a hundred times worse.

I think those words and the emotions attending them, which we will have picked up on more clearly than the words themselves are at the heart of the meaning

Yes. I am wondering if that is why I become so unnerved when M is in the car. I must feel a taste of anxiety and it becomes full-blown. Because I remember. And all at once, I am there, again. In that place.

But...once we see that, we can so easily declare the abuser's power-over dynamic ~ that "win" I am always posting about ~ for the illegitimate thing it is.

And then, we are free.

I mentioned in another thread that M's evil sister called him a couple of days ago to wish him Merry Christmas. She mentioned to him, and then, him to me, that she was doing so well she is driving freeways.

When we went to M's sister last night, another sister was there. She had been depressed and gotten fat...and she was taking a remedy from Thailand which was lowering her weight effortlessly. And there she was, less fat.

And here I am battling and battling and the weight loss is so slow and the driving just gets worse. M's sisters are always doing some cure--there is always some miracle cure to buy or to pay for.

And here I am still fat and afraid.

And they? On to the next miracle cure. Feeling and saying how they know better. And are doing better.

Which means it has always been the beliefs imposed upon us in our defenseless childhoods that kept us imprisoned, there in that prison constructed of hatred and lies.

About us, in us, that we tell ourselves.

We need a role model I think, someone who loves us (or maybe, someone who hates us, like a Marine Sargeant is able to change and motivate his recruits), to recover from this way that we think

As time goes by I change with M. Last night at M's sister's house, I did not feel comfortable. My hip hurt. I told M. I want to leave early. I do not want to stay. He said to his family. "We are leaving. Thank you. Goodbye." He parked the car so I could jump in and avoid the puddles and we drove away. I told him, you can go back when you drop me off. I will be afraid with you driving at night, but I will be OK at home."

He said, "I do not want you to be alone. And I do not want to be out, tonight." So that was it. I gave him his present. Jewelry. A necklace with a small peace sign, which he said he loved and put on.

And I tried on maybe 12 pairs of earrings to model for him. He did not much like the long, massive and chunky dangle ones. Several pairs. I was disappointed.

Imagine just now, how it must feel to me. To model for somebody. Without shame. Or fear. With a little girl smile. For how long have I been waiting to feel safe enough with myself and with someone, to do that? 60 years or more?

I put this stuff in because there is a healing that comes from these little things. Deciding in favor of the other, and they for you.

Imagine how it was for us, as children? Nobody ever thinking about us. We were all alone.

Part of Germany has to do with permission for the expectation of personal excellence in a quest in which the guidelines are not clear and the answers are unknown and so, the only thing firing the quest is pure intention; is our own curiosity.

When I was in graduate school I had to write a lot of papers. My own discipline was a highly conventional one. But I took courses outside of it, in history and political theory. How I loved writing those papers, to have my mind travel where ever it wanted. Composing something of my own mind and what it made of things...that had never before existed.

When I was an undergraduate I did not allow myself this mental freedom. Only when I was writing papers for somebody else. Like my sister. Would I allow myself this pleasurable creativity and freedom of mind.

Do you see the strength that would create? That is what was broken, in us.

Yes. For us, it was broken. We could use it in the service of our family.

That ability to believe in ourselves in that certain way.

To feel safe in ourselves, for ourselves. And to feel safety with others. There was a trust that was destroyed. Of ourselves. And for ourselves with others. We are rebuilding it.

COPA

 

[Copabanana]

The movie channel has John Wayne movies. Westerns are my favorite genre. Old Westerns. I adore John Wayne. I am not paying attention to Chisholm but I love hearing his voice and hearing the music in the background.

even with my D H. Not in the cascading way I care for him, now.

While my and M's relationship is pretty new *six years, I am feeling the same kind of changing. We are not so much defined by words and deeds, but by being together. And the sustenance I feel is a wordless devotion by him, and his tenderness that he exposes to me, and shows me. I think both of us could pass the rest of our lives together just together with nothing else happening. And it would be OK. That frightens me. It would be a lot to lose.

At the same time, even though it is something we created together I understand that each of us is changing ourselves. In ourselves. He said something a couple of weeks ago. He said: I hope I never have to run away from you.

It frightened me. Because what would I do? Except live.

It is scary to feel that your living well depends upon somebody else. That you have created something with somebody that would never ever have existed without the other. And he would not exist without you. Except, I see, what we are creating is ourselves, together.

I wonder whether the deepening we all experience as we mature is maturation, or whether I have lived my life sort of functioning on two cylinders instead of six (or however many there are supposed to be)

I think we have not been present to ourselves. I think we have created meaningful and full lives for everybody except us. Now our task is to experience and be present ourselves in our lives.

the essence of the harm done to us, when we were hurt in the power-over patterns of relationship in our families of origin, had to do with the capacity for self-determination

How many times has one of us told the other how harsh we can be to ourselves? How judgmental. How merciless. We have taken a power over position in ourselves of our self. We have learned to beat ourselves up, in absentia. That is the horrible truth.

I am thinking again of the concentration camp. The stoolies. The people, the Jewish people, who in each camp governed their own people. Imagine the self-contempt at the root of it that could be turned and used toward such an end?

I used to think of my sister and think of her in this position. Now I realize it was me, too, towards myself. Not to others. Just me.

Maybe that is why I could never sympathize with her. Because the way she betrayed me over and over again was the same thing I did to myself. Or a variant of it. I hated what she did and could not allow myself see it clearly, because I could not, still, see myself. As a betrayer of me.

I deprived myself of empathy for her. I made her bad. Because I was like her. In myself, towards myself. How sad and bad would that be? Very bad. Very sad.

Now the John Wayne movie is at a dance. It is happy. So I am distracted.

COPA

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

How I found the strength and integrity at 11 and 13 and 15 years old to defy, is beyond me to know. I thank g-d for it. I do.

Not only the physical acts of defiance, but if we go beyond the physical, there we will see fiery, courageous acts of spiritual defiance (think about it that way, ask that question and there the acts each of us has taken in defiance of her abuser will be) that must have goaded the grandiosity-addict abuser into a frenzy.

Ha!

Good.

For heaven's sake, look at the lengths our families of origin go to today, to break us. And we are still not getting the win until we finally get it that what they fight to "win" looks like a cheap tin medal, hardly worth having at all, let alone valuing as something that matters, to us. What is overt shunning if not an adult version of the covert shunning-in-place that we lived as children? That we did live it as children accounts for the unexplainable pain in being shunned (or in being stalked and chased down and persecuted ~ which is what they do before they shun ~ think about it, ask that question, and you will see incidents in your own lives where these were the patterns) today. Imagine the pain and outrage and unanswered questions for us now. And then, imagine what this same intensity of hurt and puzzlement meant for a child without words and without allies.

If I were not being more dignified these days, I would insert a "roar" right in here somewhere.

:O)

But the coupe de grace we gave ourselves. We learned to abandon ourselves. That is the part I still struggle with myself. I abandon myself.

I am not sure about this part Copa, but I think it is a good question. We did (I do) abandon myself but it has to do with my thinking, with my certainty that my thinking is ridiculous, romantic, worthless and wrong. (I feel a blow, here.)

Hello, mom.

I think it will turn out to have something to do with uncovering ourselves. Or relearning ~ I don't know, Copa. Something to do with concentration ~ with that ability to concentrate.

But right now I have to go concentrate on Happy Hour. D H is calling.

Merry Christmas, everybody. Walk out tonight to see the moon and stars. It will be magical.

Cedar

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

Imagine how it was for us, as children? Nobody ever thinking about us. We were all alone.

Alone would have been safe.

We would have come away from "alone" with independence and confidence in our competence, had we lived. As it is, we were taught not to trust ourselves ~ not to trust our thinking; not to trust the stability of the reactions of those we loved.

You have had a wonderful Christmas, Copa.

:O)

***

I am sorry your hip hurts you.

I think both of us could pass the rest of our lives together just together with nothing else happening. And it would be OK. That frightens me. It would be a lot to lose.

Would there be an actual loss do you think, Copa...or is that driving feeling that we are never enough ~ that another accomplishment will begin the process of becoming enough ~ are those feelings virulently live artifacts of the kinds of childhoods we had.

That was the magic in the IZ picture. He is present, fully and happily alive to the pleasure of having someone who loves him care for him in the sun. That is what presence looks like, and generosity, and play. And maybe love, too. That unafraid.

That imagery of the whore, washing her feet in the sun, was the same feeling.

How many times has one of us told the other how harsh we can be to ourselves? How judgmental. How merciless. We have taken a power over position in ourselves of our self. We have learned to beat ourselves up, in absentia. That is the horrible truth.

I am thinking again of the concentration camp. The stoolies. The people, the Jewish people, who in each camp governed their own people. Imagine the self-contempt at the root of it that could be turned and used toward such an end?

You have peeked beneath the Wizard's curtain, Copa.

You are exactly right.

Good sleuthing. "The people, the Jewish people, who in each camp governed their own people."

And remember the story of Jacob, sold into slavery by his brothers with the father's complicity. Which is another version of the Child, imprisoned in an underground dungeon at the center of town to bear the punishment of those living aboveground. And the lives of the people in the town are perfect. And yet, there are those who, in the dark of night, leave the town.

Maybe that is why I could never sympathize with her. Because the way she betrayed me over and over again was the same thing I did to myself. Or a variant of it. I hated what she did and could not allow myself see it clearly, because I could not, still, see myself. As a betrayer of me.

I deprived myself of empathy for her. I made her bad. Because I was like her. In myself, towards myself. How sad and bad would that be? Very bad. Very sad.

Yes.


So, here is something from Anne Lamott.

“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.”

― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

And here is something else that was beautiful, that I found while I was looking for this one. It has to do with that imagery of the warrior and the cesspool and the lotus, blossoming under the moon.

“Forgiveness is giving up all hope of having had a better past.”

― Anne Lamott

Okay, so that wasn't the one I meant. Here is the one I meant:

“And I felt like my heart had been so thoroughly and irreparably broken that there could be no real joy again, that at best there might eventually be a little contentment. Everyone wanted me to get help and rejoin life, pick up the pieces and move on, and I tried to, I wanted to, but I just had to lie in the mud with my arms wrapped around myself, eyes closed, grieving, until I didn’t have to anymore.”

― Anne Lamott, Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year

Cedar