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Family of Origin
When parents still abuse their adult children:
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 675172" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>You are welcome. Thank you Cedar.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>That was a beautiful post, Cedar. And this below, beautiful, too:</p><p></p><p>"<em>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."</em></p><p><em></em></p><p>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.</p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Yes.</em></p><p><em></em>Yes.</p><p><em>Yes.</em></p><p><em>Yes.</em></p><p><em>Yes.</em></p><p><em></em>Yes.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.</p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>It may not be a coincidence that I awoke this morning feeling defeat and shame. I bought maybe 50 pair of wool socks.</p><p></p><p>It felt like I gave a party and nobody came.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>The garage was in the home where I lived as a young girl. It was my refuge.</p><p>Smart.</p><p>How wonderful.</p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>I still feel there is no "here" in me. Just stuff. Until I realize it. Make it actual.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 675172, member: 18958"] 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]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." [/I] 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. [I] Yes. [/I]Yes. [I]Yes. Yes. Yes. [I][/I][/I]Yes.[I][/I]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. [I][/I]Smart. [I][/I]How wonderful. [I][/I]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 [/QUOTE]
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