Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Mother's Favorite Drug

I'm deadly afraid of humiliation.  And public humiliation.  I have this book I've been keeping that I wrote down helpful saying, quotes, my feelings my thoughts.  I was looking in it today, and in it there is this caricature of me that I drew.  This was long before my awakening.

Ok, I can't draw it.  There is no options here for draw.  Very well.  I'll explain it to you.  It simply is a circle with two dots for eyes and a squiggly mouth.  Now as I look at that picture I'm embracing it, telling it not to feel bad, its ok to be embarrassed.  Now, I should really look up that word.  Is embarrassed the same as shame or humiliation?  Or, are they they different things?

Lately, don't know if I told you this yet, but lately, I've been feeling low.  Call it what you will, I believe this is a process to something else.  Something is going to be healed or I'm going to have a revelation.

Now this is a random thought for humiliation, my feelings are all over the place.  I feel horrible.  Oh well, we feel what we feel, we shouldn't be trying to block it.  Pain has a purpose doesn't it?  It has to go someplace.  So I'll just feel where this place goes.

Humiliation was the tool mother used mainly for narcissistic supply from me.  Humiliation was my lot in life.  I had to feel it dreadfully and that look on my face made mother high.  It was her drug of choice.  That caricature, was a picture of me all scrunched up trying to not feel anything.  My thoughts went elsewhere.

As I embrace the caraciture of myself, I can't help but feel love.  Does this mean that now I do love myself flaws and all?  What is love?  Is is that gooey feeling?

No I tend to feel that love goes hand in hand with respect.  Self respect.  I think I'm releasing that feeling into myself for the first time.  Seeing as that I blamed myself for everything that went wrong with my life.  But it wasn't my fault.  I look back now and, my gosh, I see where I did so much that was right despite my circumstances.  I was responsible, I never cheated anyone.  I even supported others.  When I look back, I can see now, what a big deal that is.

Not that I'm all boastful. Of course, I still need a saviour for my sins and that is what I have Jesus for. But still looking back on my circumstances I was awesome.

I had thought I was raised to be the golden child in that whole growing up in a narcissistic household, but that's not true.  I was raised to take humiliation, over and over again.  A scapegoat for pain. Seeing as I was so spoiled by mother, for giving me so much, she loved me so much, all she wanted was to see me as successful.  And all I did to her was disappoint.

She got a lot of humiliation supply from me.  She probably had to, she was incapable of feeling humiliation.  The opposite of humiliation was significance.  And that was what she was trying to steal from me, she had that goal in mind, this was a mind gaming method.  Gaslighting is where the truth is sticking clearly in your face and you are denied that truth, you are to see the opposite.

Fear and panic rose up inside of me.  And why not?  If significance is what she was trying to steal then fight or flight had better kick in.  Significance is the actual hard wiring, and if you don't have it then you would have died in a culture less civilized.

Now, I'm writing this without thinking much, just going with my emotions.  I've been feeling terrible lately, just trying to see what's up with me.  So when I opened that book and saw that caricature, it told me something rather interesting.  This pain I'm feeling right now is due to the fact that when my aunt and I talked a few weeks ago, she made me very aware of something.  I'm feeling a little sorry for my mother.  My judgement became cloudy.

Here is what I also have written down in my book, after my awakening:

The brainwashed victim does not consciously change his value system, rather the change occurs despite his efforts.  He is no more responsible for this change than is an individual who "snaps" and becomes psychotic.  And like the psychotic, the prisoner is not even aware of the transition.

So, yeah, I have been going all over the place with this.  Where am I going with this?  I think I have a plan.

When my aunt talked to me that day and said this and that, and I was all hard and then proceeded with my day and didn't feel one iota of negative energy.  I actually forgot all about it.  But I think I did feel something, but I blocked it out.  Now, it is some weeks later. My butt glued to the chair, and I feel completely lazy.  It is not like me to be lazy.  If I am sitting down and can't get up, some depression has hit me and I need to try to feel my way through it.

So I guess I am feeling sorry for mother.  She has had an abusive childhood herself and it was bestowed upon me to be responsible for things beyond my control, that happened way before I was born.  And it feels that it is unlikely mother was a narcissist, there were worse people in my life that took total advantage that I was a targeted source of supply.  Mother wasn't like that, she didn't try to hurt me, but she did.  She found ways that were clever.  It was happening during my formative years. When I became an adult, mother was insufferable, no one wanted to be around.  For sure when I was younger she had people around her, she was liked more.

See here is the key issue.  Mother wasn't as bad as the narcissists I later encountered.  Seeing as she formed me this way to take abuse from every predator in life, and looking back and seeing her as "mommy", is strange.  She didn't always hurt me.  Many times I would be watching tv after school and she would make me some toast and she would go back in the kitchen to make supper.  These were the times I remember the most.  The times she was mistreating me (humiliating me, like I mentioned in early portions of my blog), I remember the least.

So how does it fit together then?  These two pieces.  It became lost on me, but not forever.  I remember it now.  But, I still can't really remember what happened more the bad or the good.  It has not been a year yet in my recovery.  Perhaps I will have every memory restored.  Perhaps that's why I cannot get off my butt.

Now back to the aunt.  She did not deny anything.  Sure mother is awful, but its ok.  I am to let it roll off my back.  See it wasn't my imagination playing tricks on me, mother was bad.  So how does someone do good things for me then?  For now, I believe it is a trick of my mind, or the work of a very successful gaslighter, my mother.

But I always encountered humiliation and I was to sit there and take it, it was my responsibility to do that.  And I'm not sure if mother were to call here, would I pick up the phone.  I wouldn't.  I would let my husband deal with her.  That part of my life is over, even her voice would terrify me.

Mother was never there.  Not a real mother.  Not the one who cares about you.  This creature doesn't really exist, its just a figment of my imagination.  If she chose to disappear through her own child abuse, then that is her choice.  This is nothing but a predator. I separate myself from having any more responsibility for her.

Monday, March 30, 2015

My Life at the Moment

Lately, it has been feeling horrible.  Everything.  I think it started a few weeks ago by meeting up with my aunt.  Turned away from the family for being wide awake to things feels horrible.  Turned away from the credit system that was mentioned in an article from Peep's blog.  I can't even use the camera to take pictures, it has important stuff on there from hubby's work and I can't use it right now.

So I just sit here and my sewing projects are piling up and all I want to do is watch repeats of old horror movies.  And highjacking blogs.  But I have to finish a quilted tablecloth I promised to my oldest daughter.  I started that six months ago, and now I told her I'm going to give it to her and thus I have to finish it.

I just had to promise it to her.  I know she is not feeling too well right now.   She had to go in to see a specialist for joint pain, and now we have learned, it will last for the rest of her life.  We are hypermobiles.  A rather rare genetic anomaly where the joints have a lot more mobility.  We are the contortionists of the world.  We also have loose collagen in the skin.  Right now I'm sitting at the computer desk on a chair with my legs crossed over eachother in a way most won't want to even try. I can't even point at anything, my fingers won't go straight.  My three children and I all have it.  We are fine.  Except my oldest, well, there are problems for her with it.  Medications for the rest of her life. To live with the pain.

So I promised this tablecloth as a small consolation for the genetic defect.  Sad isn't it?  That she alone has to suffer with it.  I wish it weren't so.  She already has a child with autism, she is a single mother, and now this.  Oh, and she wants to get a PhD. in Physics.  I know I can't work for a living, and I raised her.  I'm praying steadily she has nothing missing, that she has not suffered any of the psychological effects of having been raised by me.

My son, my middle child is doing well.  He'll be flipping houses this summer.  And doing construction work.  And my youngest daughter is causing misery in her stepsisters life, by making her feel like her dad (my hubby) loves her more.  But she was diagnosed with narcissism, my youngest. Her father is a narcissist.  I signed up on facebook just to keep a closer eye on the kids' everyday life. But I hate facebook, they want me to play the games there, like candyland.  Even people I knew from years ago are trying to friend me and all I want is an easy passage to the kids.

But my youngest seems to be doing well.  She has the baby boy, and he is doing very well.  She is keeping up with his medical so I believe it is all good.  But we only can take it one day at a time.

Her dad is back in bed, sick again.  Well, if you read my previous postings I wrote about him.  He is not sick.

I totally despise mother.  This is all her fault.  And I wish my aunt never tried to make me feel sorry for her.  My aunt also, on that day we spoke, told me she was a breast cancer survivor.  I already knew that.  She said she is very proud of it.  I can't tell you how cold I felt when she told me that.  I really don't care.  I don't.  Lately I felt a coldness.  My daughter is anxiously awaiting this tablecloth and here I am typing.  But that I care about.  But lately, I need to chat and blog.

I am writing a wonderful article about dating and relationships for the ACON and that I even put off. This evening I made some homemade chocolate chip cookies and ate 6 of them.  Soon, I hope to be sitting in a bubblebath, then check the woodstove and go to bed.  I am alone tonight, hubby is at work, and lately his job is been hard on the both of us.  His presence is a little quiet, I know he is angry at his employees, he has a new crew.

So there has not been a lot going on that's good.  But life is what it is, and so usually I either feel like bad news is coming, or I'm feeling guilty all the time, or I'm just down for no reason.  And really there is no reason for me to feel this way.  My daughter is being treated for her symptoms so it should be alright.

Yesterday an old friend of my hubby's came over for a short visit with his new girlfriend.  She is a supervisor of a large company.  That's all I know.  Nothing else was said about her and the rest of the visit she was dead silent.  I don't know if she has children, what her hobbies are, who are her friends. Nothing.  You could hit her on the head and still this thing was like a robot.  No life.  She was boring. But I guess with no career I am the loser here.  Not that anyone said that, but I felt that.

So this guy dates her because she is a supervisor?  No.  He probably dates her because she makes a lot of money.  That's all.  Truthfully, if I was her, I would have dumped his sorry ass for making her a drone.  A simple money making machine.  That's all that seemed to matter to him.

I think I hate all of hubby's friends.  They are all narcissists.  None of the women here show emotions or paints their nails or wears a dress.  They drink beer out of a bottle.  They smoke anything.  Cigars, cigarettes.  They belch.  And they all act superior to me for their masculine abilities.

And its not like anyone here is very smart.  The older baby boomers, travel around the world on a whim on a grade 5 education.  Even hubby believes anyone can make it in the world if they just try. He never questions me about anything.  I know I chose to be a stay at home wife, but what other choice do I have?  I tried to make it in the world, but its like I can't be a part of the world.  Just like The Little Mermaid song, "A part of the world."  I can't be a part of the world.

But I like this lifestyle and probably would have chosen it regardless of being personally successful or not.  I would have chose to stay at home.  But it still bugs me that I never made it out there in the world.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Covered in Bruises

Meika-1: Family photo

I'm not sure why I'm posting this.  Maybe these children are too innumerable to mention.  Forced to hold her hand over a burning flame?  You can read it yourself.  I can't stop crying.

Friday, March 27, 2015

The Fascination With Horror Movies

It is taking me some time to post this.  It just feels way out there and I can't help but worry about what people will think of me.  I know logically it doesn't matter.  I have a good grip on myself and my feelings and I'm not as weird as I previously thought I was.  I have these symptoms that might be a little more common with the others I talk to online.

So here goes....

I have tons of horror films on the DVR.  The husband tells me that if people saw that, they'll think we are nuts.  I was going to post the list, but its just too weird, even for me.  But they are kinda normal. Some old stuff, true story movies, I like one particular movie that I watch continually and that is the Jodi Arias' Dirty Little Secret.  Please keep in mind it is not the story itself that holds me captive.  It is the murder scene and some other parts, but the murder scene especially.  I think I am relating to it.

I have other movies as well and they stay on there and I have been watching them over and over, whether I'm sewing, or reading, they are always on.  I'm very much into God as well and this is a big contrast in my life.  So much so, that I tend to do this when I'm by myself, so no one thinks I'm strange.  I live a double life.

Pandora Vitalis has said in Q1605's blog that she watches horror movies because they are a "stay alive manual for her".  Wow, isn't that something?  I've been years no contact, and still I amuse myself with these things.  Even going outside at night to load the woodstove, is like an adventure for me.  Yet, I'm still afraid of certain things.  I'm very familiar with fear.  It is entertaining and yet it is scary for me.  I've been doing this since grade school and I still like it.

I like to drive alone at night, on the roads here, even though sometimes I swear I can see a creeping hand behind me.  Even though, I feel at peace.  I like feeling safe.  I believe horror movies are connected to that.  I'm not expecting much from writing this.  I was hoping for some cure, because usually by the end of writing something, I at least feel better.

I have to work on myself, there is no therapy available for me.  I stump even the counsellors. Psychiatrists, two of them, was trying to assess me if I was bipolar.  I am not bipolar.  They couldn't come up with anything.  What is it then?  They did say I had PTSD.  That to me is not a diagnosis, that is a symptom of something else.  I've had some of the best therapists.  I've been told by my therapists that I'm like talking to an equal, I know just as much as they do, so "I'm all better".  Then I would try to proceed with life and stuff would happen.  I would be a victim again.  Job losses, I couldn't stay on task.  I lived in poverty.  People everywhere were beating me up emotionally, and sometimes physically.  Why wouldn't I defend myself?  I knew I should, I knew the process of defending myself.  So I must be all screwed up.  Was it my childhood?  Did my therapists or myself even ponder that idea?  If they even asked me about my childhood I would have told them I had the perfect mother.  We went to school in clean clothes everyday.  Some of my friends didn't have such clean clothes.  They had to wear their clothes for 2 days before they could change them.  I had the perfect mother.  She fed us well.  She sacrificed herself for our comfort.

So on and on I would go to the therapy office, then back to work, etc etc., till many decades later. How I've found the answers is a long story.  But if I just compare myself now to who I was a year and a half ago, I believe the awakening cured me about 95%.  I know there are still things, but the worst is over.  I was all messed up and not knowing why.

One thing that wasn't hidden from me was my love of horror movies, I knew it was wrong.  But like I said, there are still things I have to work on.  So I live a double life.  I'm all good on one side, and then I like something so insidious and horrible.  I don't know.  I feel like there is some kind of connection in my head.

I sometimes think, "I'll just keep going to church and everything will be fine, regardless."  Ok, but I always think my sweet exterior that keeps something dark inside has no business in church.  Some might think I'm demonically possessed.  Or that I'm not believing in deliverance enough, etc etc etc.

This has kept me from talking about it, even blogging about it.  Do I want this situation taken away from me?  ei, do I actually want to stop watching horror movies?  Big question.  Truth is, I don't know.  I imagine that existence I have of turning on something gruesome to watch, taken away and I can't help feel like I'll be missing it.  Perhaps, my problem isn't bad enough for me to want it gone.
If I spoke to a pastor or someone from the church, they'll tell  me just to stop doing it.  lol, That would be like a well minded crusty doctor telling me, "Well, just stop doing that."  Or even my therapist, when I had one, will say, "just stop doing it.  Do this instead.  The instead thing didn't cover any of the needs that would be covered while doing the "bad act".

Regardless, I feel no one will be present for me in this situation.  It is weird how many would believe that God just takes things away from us, never requiring some kind of growth.  I stay away from those crazy Holy Spirit driven churches where the people would be lying on the floor for hours, "Just soaking up God."  I never got that.  Or just demand things in prayer.  Oh, I really do wish it was that simple.  I often think if that was the case then you could plant a seed in the ground and the fruit will be right there right away. But I get the impression throughout scripture God is more of a farmer.  A season for this, or a season for that.

I recently got through something.  Something that took a long time.  God put me through some learning before he would give the deliverance.  Then looking back, I can see it was all God now, who did the work.  I had to grow and learn before I received my awakening.

My relationship site helped me so much.  But I have to keep in mind that this woman is an evolutionist, and not a Christian.  There are some Christians who do the work that she does, just not as powerful.  I would love to buy all her programs.  They are so expensive, I only got to buy one.  I bought the cheapest one too.  Some of her programs cost a whole months salary for some women. But they are paying it.

This is a woman who studied to be a lawyer, who was very sick most of the times she was studying. It was the stress.  She has now found her true passion.  I suppose I don't have to buy the programs.  I could do what she does and just sift through piles of useless information to find tidbits.  I could fly to Europe and listen to a famous anthropologist speak, to sift through that information for a couple of tidbits, spend thousands of dollars doing so, I could do all that.  But I followed her teachings instead.

That is where it all started for me a year and a half ago.  And all my life I kept the secret of watching horror movies, while acting like I'm sweet and good.  While I like flowers and pretty colors, I like the depravity of horror movies.

That hidden pain I live with daily.  I think there are lots of reasons why.  Pandora shared one.  I've also heard its because we are so familiar with it.

I imagine I feel "safe" while watching them.  I don't know if its much of anything else.  Here I am in the nice, warm, house, and all this violence is happening in front of me.  But I'm safe and secure through it all.  I don't watch it all, no, I stare at the parts that are tolerable but turn away when its really very gruesome, even for me.

DISCLAIMER:  I'm about to talk about something that might be offensive, but very pertinent to me. Please, if you must comment, realize I require total presence always.  If you don't connect that's fine, but realize I do connect.

I watch this one murder scene over and over again.  The movie made a remarkable job of having a guy stabbed to death over and over again, whilst he was trying to get away.  The whole scene lasts for a few minutes.  He almost falls out of the shower where the stabbing started.  He gets out of the shower, he looks in the mirror to try to clean himself.  He gets stabbed again and again, he starts to crawl out of the bathroom, and ends up dead in another part of the house.

Ok, wow.  I can't believe I remembered all that.  I watched it so much though.  I see him look in the mirror to clean himself up.  Kinda pointless considering the murderer was standing right behind him and he turned his back on her to clean up.  Kinda pointless, don't you think?  But what else would he be thinking of at that point?  He might be in complete denial to what is going on, and to that I can relate.  Then he tries to crawl away, absolutely pointless don't you think, as you know she can catch him, no problem, and so to that I can relate.  And as he lay there dying, he looks up at her, and to me it looks like he is going to give her a big kiss and appreciate this behaviour from her.  And to this I can relate.

I think of mother.  When I was talking to my aunt about all this, I was opening up, and she told me of their abusive childhood.  I told her that somewhere mother disappeared, and out emerged a monster. I can't believe in a bad seed theory because it isn't scriptural, as God says we have made the choice to have a seared conscience.  So therefore, it can't be inherited.  Well anyway, I think of mother's own abusive childhood, and then when I came along, it was like the stabbing from the movie.  She kept
"stabbing" at me over and over throughout my life and I looked and "trusted her enough to turn away" and continued to trust.  And that is what I mean by I can relate.

I think that as I write, I get some more of the blame taken off me with each and every word.  Not that it always is easy to understand, but I believe this is not my fault for being weird.  I keep thinking of that man in the film, watching his face, it was done really well,  I can relate.

Not that that part gives me comfort.  It gives me the whillys actually, and I relate to the whillys too. Am I really trying to get over this?  No.  I think the point I'm trying to make and I've been trying to make throughout this whole blog is just to acknowledge everything.  That is the first step.  And we don't need to understand every step after, just the first.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

I Just Talked to the Aunt

On Monday I was spending a busy day in the city to buy our food supplies and visit.  I just picked up a cake at Walmart and was going to my daughter's for a visit.  I learned to be more organized.  I went to get s bit of lunch, I wasn't even hungry and I tend to go places on an empty stomach.  Whether accusations are real or not, I always feel like a fraud, a horrible person, but this day was an exception. I actually felt pretty good, so I decided to treat myself to some french fries today and then would head over to my daughter's with the cake.  Then I saw my aunt (mother's sister).

I saw her first.  I don't think she even recognized me.  I just wanted to say hi, and talk about good things.  But that wasn't about to happen at all.

She asked me right away, "Hi, have you talked to your mother yet?"

I was taken aback, this was very abrupt of her, "No".

I didn't add anything to the answer.  I have learned from ACON's that I don't have to explain myself any more, and somehow I've been managing it.

She said she has talked to mother many times over the phone, and she keeps asking mother the same thing about me, but mother says no as well.  I tried steering the conversation away to talk about simple things in the moment.  I didn't want to give a rundown of my life and I intended boundaries to exist.  Her husband, who was with her, walked away from me like he had a bad taste in his mouth.  I could tell he didn't want to be a part of the conversation and probably felt that he was doing his best. I guess he didn't want to tell me off.  So he walked away instead.

Just to let you know, my aunt is the most normal in the family.  She has never been known to be outrageous and she had a good heart.  She spent several years taking care of her own mother and reminded me of that.  As I tried to hold true to spontaneous talk, she tried to wear me down about mother.  She said that I will be sorry someday for this and she said I'll always remember this conversation she had with me.

We got into some more about mother.  She understands mother is mean and cruel and spiteful and hateful.  Oh, yes she gets that.  She said her mother was the same way, that she has two other sisters that are mean to their daughters.  However, I was to overlook that and see that mother still loves me.

Wow, did I tell you this is very dangerous?  That thinking?  That someone can be mean and cruel to you and still love you can kill you?  I'm not making that one up.  I read that right in my relationship site.  And the very fact of holding in your emotions in relationships is dangerous?

I love my relationship site, but there are a few things I do disagree with, one of which is that the site owner believes that some women are just lazy about their emotions.  Not that I'm blaming her.  She does put the idea in your head that perhaps holding in your emotions is wrong, and I discovered the truth, and that there is not such thing as being lazy.   For some of us, living true to your emotions can feel like hell.  This is what brought about my awakening though.

You know, I felt that my aunt was trying to be noble, and she just doesn't know better.  I can choose to hate her too, but I just can't.  She feels this way, and she doesn't know the truth about narcissism. Mother doesn't even exist.  This is a person that wants to hurt others all the time, and my aunt believes we must see past that, and not hold her responsible for any of that, "Oh, she's just like that, she doesn't mean it."

I worried about my sister.  I talked a little about that.  My aunt said that my sister is strong, she said that my sister can let everything just roll off her.  She said that it was wrong of me to just believe mother, to just let it roll off my back.  That is what my sister does.  She is strong.  But did I tell you that my sister was almost stabbed to death by an ex?  She can show you knife wounds.  

Every punch in the face I got in my life was locked in to that thinking.  Remember that.  I try to live true to my emotions these days.  Its still hard but I do it, because I know now.  To tell my husband, I'm upset, or I'm hurt, feels like hell sometimes, but I do it.  He doesn't always like it, he tells me, but what he says and feels are two different things.  Although he doesn't like it, he is connected to me this way.  But he would tell you otherwise.  He would say he doesn't like a drama queen, but it doesn't matter, his emotions speaks otherwise.  I do something he says he doesn't like, despite what he says.  He connects to it.

Not something a narcissist can do.

So we must learn as women, to stay true to our emotions.  It is hard sometimes.  Well, all the time.  I don't always feel like acknowledging my emotions, that is why I need to read the relationship site over and over again.

Well, my aunt went on and on.  When she told me that she took care of her own mother who was mean and spiteful too, I told her she should have just thrown her out then.  Truly, if someone just only not appreciate you but hurts you with the intention of hurt, then throw them out.  These beliefs of my aunt are dangerous, I told her that.  She still feels we are to reach out to them or someday feel sorry for it.

I believe she tried to be the wise and noble aunt that day.  Telling me that mother is still trying her best.  She did not even bring up my brother, whom mother is not speaking to for no reason.  She says mother will die some day and I'll be sorry for it.

I don't feel badly.  All the stuff I've learned, and its funny, but I felt like the ACON community walks around with me.  I'm not alone anymore.  Thus, I held my ground with her, her husband walking away in a huff.  After we had parted ways with me still holding my ground, I went to go have my french fries, and they were very good.

I left to come back home at 10 o'clock that night.  In the dark, and I wasn't even afraid.  I like the night and my alone time on the road.  Life is beautiful.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

No Contact

We just found out that the father-in-law no longer has cancer.  It was an aggressive cancer in his shoulder that just 2 weeks ago, was spreading down into his ribs.  He had just finished the radiation treatments and still the cancer was spreading.  They refused to operate here in our small city and was sent to a big city down south.  Once the doctor opened him up, a slice with the knife, and the tissue underneath was perfect.  It is done.  He no longer has cancer.  It is gone.  It must be amazing to be a doctor at times like this, one sweep with the knife was the difference between life and death.  And we are so relieved and happy.  Springtime will be here soon and this is a happy time.

Now, its like gone.  Something we have been worried about for almost a year.  And just eradicated.  I can't tell you what that feels like.  But, yes, I can actually tell you what that feels like.

When mother went no contact with me years ago, I spent 2 years fretting about it.  Worried that now she is old, I should suck it up and try to get along with her no matter what.  Even though I didn't fight with her the burden was on me to be "compassionate".  I didn't try to reach her during that time.  I just fretted about it, felt guilty, and that feeling sucked.  I took the blame for this insidious monster.

I have to give a big thank you to the whole ACON online community for awakening me to the truth about mother.  It was like a big sweep of the knife.   Even though I was NC with her, I still had horrible symptoms of abuse, that I was taking the blame for too.  No counsellor would take this off my shoulders.  I was weird, it was my fault I was weird and that would be something I would have to accept.  I don't remember exactly how the awakening got started.  All I can remember was mother telling me she loved to see me miserable.  For two years, all I thought she meant by that was that it was good for me to be miserable. That is it would "smarten me up" because I was such a loser.

After two years of NC, I started researching just that.  It was Anna Valerious' site that I came upon, and I don't remember which topic I was on.  But I remember reading, "This person does not mean you well."  Then I was reading further, about psychopathy stuff like that.  I became hooked on ACON sites.  I became a basketcase to the tolerant ACON's in their comment sections.

Then all of a sudden, just like a sweep with the knife that removed the cancer forever, my guilt was gone.  Gone forever.  I can't even reach the feelings I used to have.  I became outraged at everyone in the mental health community for sticking me with pills.  Great big psychiatrists and I wasn't the culprit, but they made me feel I was.

Nowadays, I would like to visit mother on her deathbed just so that I can throw on top of her a big strap on stuffed man, in order to make fun of her.  That last little bit of life she would have before she visits the torment of hell.  But that would be nothing, nothing compared to what she has done to me.

Father-in-law no longer has the cancer.  But a portion of his shoulder blade has been removed, and some muscle mass.  He will have to live his life with that.  I live with scars too.  My last posting was a huge scar I live with, always feeling like I'm doing something wrong.  And today, my husband told me I am always talking about fishing.  He said, "You act as though we will never go fishing again."  I don't think I have to explain too much about this to ACON's.  We always feel like something good will be taken away.  That we won't get to keep something for long.  Yet, we always go fishing. Always, and yet I feel compelled to always remind him that summertime is coming, soon its fishing season.  I do this, yadda yadda, like a broken record.

He also tells me that I act like a little kid sometimes.  About certain things.  I keep stupid secrets.  He tries to tell me this in kindness, but my feelings are hurt by it.  I don't want to talk about it much with him.  He doesn't want to know about this stuff I'm blogging on, so he doesn't need to know anything else.  He sees my panic, my fears, these are things I have to live with it, but thanks to the ACON online community I no longer believe these things are my fault.

I know some ACON's are more tempered than me, some less so, but we are a community that has to stick together.  The mental health community would blame this all on us given a chance.  I think its because that system is lead by malignant narcissists that would not accuse its own kind.  Besides that, MN's don't innovate, can't create anything new or think, so the last material wrote about mental health, probably from the middle ages remain, only to be repeated and written as new over and over again.

Even those pills that left me so numb.  Here I was dealing with mother, and those pills made me more tolerant towards her, and to other predators as well.  I was too numb to do anything about it.  I couldn't protect myself(not that I ever could), but I had less feelings.  I was kicked around, battered, abused more and I wouldn't even try to get away.  I couldn't go ahead and make plans with my life because mother was always beckoning me to do what she said.  And I did do what she said.  Even though mother spent 20 years out of my life, from my early twenties, mother had a good lover and we were never to interfere with that.  And that made sense to me.  She needed a good screwing daily and I had to go out on my own.

So now everything has changed.  I would love to give mother a strap on man on her deathbed, and laugh and say, "I know that is what you want."  But, my husband refuses to pay for one.  So I'm here asking for donations, (just kidding).

I'm getting carried away here.  This post is about no contact.  It is like removing a cancer and now we just have to live with the scars.  But hopefully, those scars won't grow bigger and worse than the cancer in the first place.

If you are still in contact with your MNparent I feel for you.  I know there is nothing I can say in regards to that.  Some people feel that the MN must be cared for.  Ok, but it is only my opinion now, I think you are making the biggest mistake of your life.  You can't go forward and heal, you still have cancer.  My father-in-law is in the hospital for a few more days, but he will no longer be dealing with cancer, he'll be dealing with the missing shoulder blade and muscle.  But he can live with it. Some adjustments, some therapy and he'll be as good as new.

The no contact has been a world of salvation for me.  I know I have these problems but I also know why now.  It kind of takes the severity off the situation for me.  Ok, I know I bug like crazy about fishing, but I get why now, and I can do something to remedy the situation.  Before, I didn't know why I was annoying him, and why he would complain about something I didn't do.  But I catch myself now.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Sometimes I Just Feel Badly

It has been in the minus 30 degrees Celcius for over a month and I have just about had it.  So cold exposed skin is in danger.  So cold don't even want to venture outside of the house.  Can't walk anywhere, vehicle takes forever to warm up, plus we are buried in snow.

This weekend the time changed.  It has been warming up a bit steadily, I am looking forward to springtime, and summer and fishing on the boat.  It seems to a lot of people that my life might be a bit boring.  I quilt, I sew, I volunteer, I go to church, see the kids, and I'm really, really happy these days, more happy than I've ever been in my life.  Why does it feel like there is something wrong with me?  Where is this feeling coming from?

So when will I be enough in this world?  Do I look for things to do that will make me feel more accepted?  Where does this voice in my head come from?  I'm not enough?  Something I do will make me enough?  Can't I just be, instead of do?

Just Sunday morning I got approached at church by what I think might be an elder.  She asked me if I could show her my quilt when I'm done working on it.  I can't help but feel paranoid.  I get the feeling that people see me as different.  Well, I am different.  Otherwise a very intelligent person.  But I'm not like everyone else.  I have certain things that become very apparent after awhile, and it is noticeable.  I have some friends, that may be just accepting this of me.

I see normal family dynamics, and it is a strange world to me.  The father-in-law has cancer.  See, it is hard for me to call him my father in law, because I'm used to weirdness in the family.  But yeah, he is sick and the family is reaching out and helping.  I feel at odds.  Out of place.  I'm waiting for something horrible to be said, to screw up this normalcy.  Not that I'm calling cancer normal, but gee in my FOO the least that could happen to you was a finger stuck down your throat while your yawning, the worst well, you know.

But as far as this church lady goes, it feels like she is judging me.  She wants to see my quilt, so the quilt validates me?  But I'm not going to let a normal person judge me.  Let her get raised by an evil monster of a mother and see if she is not dead by now. Ok, I tend to vent a little bit here, now and again.  I was raised by that evil monster and its like I have to now act normal.  There is nothing really wrong with me.  I might be strange and fearful but its not the end, I still have a while to go.

A few months ago, I went to her house for a luncheon she had invited me to.  It was just her and I and her husband.  My husband works shift work so it was just me.  Well, I helped her prep the lunch, we sat and had a nice lunch, a small chat and then her husband very abruptly said, "Well, its been nice talking to you Joan, goodbye and led me to the door."

I don't mind that, well yeah I did.  It felt just bad, and I'm still not sure if overstayed my welcome, but I wasn't there very long.  Just 10 minutes after finishing eating.  Then he shooed me out the door.  I don't want to meet with them anymore.  There have been lots of time she asked me to call her or drop in to see her or she come to see me, but I kinda blow her off.  She is sweet and kind and I did feel uncomfortable by that episode.  Right now, given our weather condition it is hard for anyone to come see me without a four wheel drive with studs on the tires.  So I have an excuse.  But she approached me this last Sunday to show off my quilt.

What does she think I do with myself?  Does she think I sit at home and drink?  Does she need proof I'm an ok person?  What does she want?  I don't drink, I don't party.  I never liked that kind of lifestyle. I sometimes thought that my reclusiveness is due to my upbringing, that I try to hide, but I actually do like to socialize.  That is socialize on my terms and for limited times.  Sometimes its hard to understand someone like me.

If you walked in here right now, I'd be concerned about the dishes in the sink, and why I live so far out in the bush.  But this is a lifestyle.  Its glorious, I love it, even though it was MN mother that chased me out of the city to go live out here.

But when this church lady and I talk, I tend to be less authentic.  Its because I feel judged.  Like I'm doing something wrong,  I'm tainted, damaged goods.  Like I have to be all perfect.  But I know that when people talk to me I'm a different sort of person.  I hate how child abuse is never taken seriously in the world.  I would like to say I'm an ACON and just believe that would explain everything, but no one knows what that means.  I remember feeling unsafe and unsure of myself all my life.

I would like to think I'm normal.  I enjoy life, I enjoy myself.  If someone looks at me strangely, it feels like they know.  They pity me for such critically low self esteem.  But it feels like judgement. Mama's spoiled little baby, how come you have PTSD?  Mama loved you so much, how come your a nervous wreck.  Why do I feel like I have something to hide all the time?

Just last week I was driving back home and it was dark outside.  I swear I could see a dark hand reach over at me.  I had to stop the truck and look in the back.  Sigh, I should be used to it, this happens to me all the time.  There are no drugs, no treatment in sight.  Doctors, therapists are dumbfounded in this situation.

I just want to be seen as normal, because I really am.  I have some scars, but I can't be defined by that anymore.  But what do you do when you feel like you are always keeping secrets about yourself?   But your not?  You feel guilty but you have nothing to feel guilty about?  You feel tainted, like damaged goods?

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Child Protection

This may be a bit of a rant today.  Why am I seeing so many instances of child abuse these days?  I remember the other day I talked about in my last posting about a four year old girl being afraid of her mother.  Now, I have to post about the step-daughter.  Let's call her Sharon.  Well, Sharon is my husband's daughter from a previous short relationship he had before he married the control freak.

I know I talked about Sharon in a previous posting, but this is different.  Sharon is getting tattoos at the cost of a thousand dollars apiece.  When her father asked who is paying for them, she said her ex is.  So now she called the other day saying she needed some money to buy groceries.  He said no, that he had no money.  She said, "Yes, you do have money."  This is a phone conversation that he had with her, so he filled me in on the details later.  All I saw was his anger over the phone, as he has been getting frustrated over his daughter who is a single mother, just like Jessie, my daughter.

Well sometime later, he told me that Sharon had told him, "So you will let your grandkids starve then?"  The anger shot up in me.  I entirely hate Sharon now.  Totally.  I know I shouldn't be posting this as it is just too private.  But I can tell you how this rage went right through me, shot through me like a hot iron.

Starving.  Can you believe that?  The ex(the father of her two children) buys her tattoos at the cost of a thousand dollars apiece?  He can't buy her food for their two children.  But he can buy tattoos?  So the kids have to go hungry?

So here was what was going on in my mind.  I went to the city to buy some quilting supplies a few days later.  Quilting supplies are rather expensive, so I felt so guilty.  Plus, I don't work or have my own income.  This sucks.  The only thing that gives my poor mind comfort about it is that I shouldn't be depriving myself so she can get tattoos.  But the kids are starving.

I know what he is thinking.  That the kids are not starving, she is looking for a contributer for her tattoos, so the whole thing is bullshit.  But try to tell this to a survivor of child abuse.  All I can think about is that she is willing to starve the kids for tattoos, that's all I can think about.  I hate her.  And even if it wasn't true she is still using those kids.

I remember growing up that word, STARVE,  was a normal word in our household.  We had a farm, with livestock.  But if father was angry with mother, there would be no food as he was the provider.  I remember several times we would have to skip meals, or eat turnips for dinner because father was angry.  I know I said before that my father was a nice man.  So this piece doesn't seem to fit.  Why oh why is this so hard?  I'm jumbling the pieces together and its like putting together several jigsaw puzzles and trying to make it look like one.

My husband is pissed about her lies.  Still though a part of me thinks that maybe she underestimated her finances and went and got the tattoos and has no money now to feed the kids.  A normal parent would skip eating themselves to feed the kids.  I know I did.  But Sharon won't do that?

At one point, about a month ago, she went and drove 3 hours to go and babysit a friend's dog.  All in the same month she claims the kids are starving.  Ok, I'm almost ready to lose it here.

Let's talk about child protection services shall we?  All they do is put the children in serious harm. Really all they are are women dressed up in the latest fashion stirring up trouble.  That's all.  I thought about calling them just to find out what it is that they do that makes them claim so much of the taxpayer's salary.

I have to keep this short, I don't like to live in this much anger.  If you want to comment here, please do, but this is real and raw stuff I'm seeing all over the place now.  I need more than just telling me to do something.  The MN's rule the world now and there is no real child protection services.  I won't put kids in serious harm just so I can say "I did something".