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When parents still abuse their adult children:
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 675563" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>I think I agree with you, Cedar. </p><p></p><p>I have been doing all of this buying to recover my self-determination, I think. </p><p>I am so filled with sadness here, I cannot even stay there. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p>At night, now, even at dusk I am frightened. When M is in the car, it is a hundred times worse.</p><p>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.</p><p>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 <em>she is driving freeways</em>.</p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>And here I am still fat and afraid. </p><p></p><p>And they? On to the next miracle cure. Feeling and saying how they know better. And are doing better.</p><p></p><p>About us, in us, that we tell ourselves.</p><p>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."</p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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? </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>Imagine how it was for us, as children? Nobody ever thinking about us. We were all alone.</p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p> Yes. For us, it was broken. We could use it in the service of our family.</p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 675563, member: 18958"] I think I agree with you, Cedar. I have been doing all of this buying to recover my self-determination, I think. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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 [I]she is driving freeways[/I]. 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. About us, in us, that we tell ourselves. 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. 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. Yes. For us, it was broken. We could use it in the service of our family. 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 [/QUOTE]
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