Grieving the Finality of What Will Never Be…

I found out yesterday that my mother passed away on December 24, 2010. Yep…that is 1 year, 2 months and 14 days, plus or minus. And he is already remarried…I have NO idea for how long.

We permitted our son to call my mother…it’s a long story. When he asked about his grandmother, my father told him that she had died two years ago on a date my son did not remember. I got the actual date by calling the coroner’s office. They were able to confirm the date of her death and the cause…melanoma. I was told that she had been in hospice care, which was why her death was reported to them. It is a law in that state to report all deaths of people in hospice care.

Over the years I have grieved for what was and grieved for what wasn’t. And now, I need to grieve for what for sure will never be. There will never be reconciliation. Never be recognition. Never be an apology or forgiveness extended. Never be so many things.

I have a lot to think about…and a lot to feel. It can be difficult not to second-guess myself, but there are things I need to face in order to settle things in my own mind and heart. I was told she was dying, but not that she was in hospice care or that it was imminent. My father just kept playing games and, I believe, actually kept us apart…especially given what she said in the one time I did talk to her…a call that was interrupted by my father.

Things are a bit complicated and I am having to sort them all out. I need to own whatever is mine and refuse to take on whatever is not. I will not try to pick up another’s guilt. It is simply not mine to carry. Nor is it for me to run from my responsibilities. I went into this with eyes wide open. I knew the risks. I took the chance. Now it is over. Now I will process from a different place…on the other side of her death.

It is sad when someone lies so much that even when they tell the truth it is not the whole story and you don’t really know what you can believe. There are so many what ifs that I could run through. And taking a look is not a bad idea…but living there is. I must face what I must face and trust my heavenly Abba to walk me through to the other side. He has never let me down.

Communicating With Father…

Well…the last time I had written my father, I forwarded it as a document to my hubby. He sent it on to my father…with a message of his own. Here it is:
(My father),

As far as I am concerned, (me) does not need to communicate with you. You have done nothing a loving father would do and have shown over the years you really do not care for her by your attitude toward her. A normal father would be concerned with what she remembered but would realize whether it happened from your point of view or not, it is still real to her. They would be willing to work through things, instead of attacking like you have done. You have always reacted as someone who knows they are guilty would react. You are more interested in protecting yourself rather than actually trying to get to the bottom of things.

Having said that, I am not the one who will stand in the way of a daughter who has shown the desire to break through and love you  both any way. I am not the one who has to put up with the garbage that you spout. She will.

Attached is a letter she wrote to you answering your comments. I would not have bothered. Even though she knows how I feel she still wants to try. (THAT SHOULD TELL YOU SOMETHING.)
As far as I am concerned, if you don’t want to try to seriously break down the barriers from your end, then don’t bother even responding to her letter.

Go, hubby!

At the time, I had a little bit of reluctance to have him send that. However, nothing was getting through…nothing was changing. I figured he might as well tell it like it is.

My father actually wrote back…almost TWO WHOLE MONTHS LATER!! This is one reason nothing much happens between them and I. It takes months…literally…between emails.

This is what he wrote:

Subject: prayer

I have prayed about this; and prayed some more.

The end result of all my prayer is one word; “listen”.

Okay, I am listening.

Dad

I thought about it, but waited to respond. I had just listened to a teaching that hubby thought I would like, but it turned out to be the wrong one. This one was on honoring your parents…which is fine. However, the guy (according to my hubby) does not seem to recognize the inside damage done when there is sexual abuse. Kudos to hubby again!

I finally wrote back to my father. Hubby had suggest simply writing: “I love you and mom. Can we start from there?” Well…I did not write exactly that. I needed some time to think about it. This is what I wrote:

Dad,

If you are really listening, then listen to this:

I
choose
to
love
you
and
Mom.

I don’t have to. I choose to…in spite of everything.

Is that not a place from which we can start to build SOMEthing? Can we not talk about some of the positive/neutral things that happened in our family…try to find some common ground upon which to relate to one another?

This is not easy for me. In fact, it is downright hard. Yet, I am willing to try.

I cannot help what I remember. In spite of those memories, I am willing to at least try to connect with you both.

Do I expect anything from it? Not really. The last time he said he was listening, he gave me a list of things HE wanted to hear…mostly details about what he “supposedly” had done…places, actions, when, where. I cannot and will not do that. The cost is too high in this situation. I am taking care of myself and I just do not trust him.

Regarding My Mother…

My sister is dead. My mother is going to die. So is my father. Those are important things for me to keep in mind. I liken my relationship (or lack thereof) with them to my relationship with my ex. So first, I want to talk a little bit about my divorce.

When I came into my first marriage, both of us were very broken…although I do not believe either of us had any idea really just how broken we were. I know I sure did not. I still did not have any clear memories of sexual abuse or ritual abuse, although I did “know” that something was wrong. I I always “felt” that I was somehow different from other folks…I just did not understand it all.

Two very broken people tried to make a marriage. It didn’t work very well. Over the years, we both suffered. We both did things that were unhealthy. I had to learn to make healthy boundaries. It took me a LONG time, but I did finally start making them right about the time my second child was a toddler.

I did it in baby steps so that it would not be noticed for the real boundary drawing had to begin in my heart. It had to begin inside before it could be expressed outwardly. So, I started to say “no” inside and then used little things to move it to the outside…little unnoticed things that slowly built up and gave me strength.

Several years later (about 9), it culminated in my outwardly saying “no” and drawing the biggest boundary I think I had ever set up to that point. I knew there could be some very serious ramifications, but I was “prepared”. Meaning that I was ready to take whatever came…no matter how ugly or painful. I said “no” and it got hairy, resulting in a final separation within the week and, ultimately, in a divorce.

There are three key things here.  One…I did everything I knew to do to make my marriage work. Two…when it all came down, I drew firm boundaries and stuck to them. I stood my ground. Third…my family is generational cult.

I have a lot of reasons to believe that my marriage was cult arranged. That kind of colors everything that happened. I was still “tied” to my parents, but I did not understand it. When we separated, they moved in. Very handy. Thankfully, my parents did not live with me for very long. They moved out of the area about an hour and a half away which gave me a good reason not to see them very often. Several months later, I and boys moved in with some other people and lived with three different families before getting into our own home.

When I separated…which was one of many miracles in my life…I had tried everything I knew to make the marriage work. However, while I drew closer and closer to G-d, he drew further and further from Him. We were going in opposite directions. I was working on my issues. He was…well…let’s just say he was definitely NOT working on his issues and leave it at that. Things were getting worse and worse as I got stronger and stronger until it finally came to a head and G-d told me to set that final boundary.

After we separated, I gave him every opportunity. I was willing to go to counseling. I was willing to wait a year while he dealt with his drug and alcohol issues. At the same time, I would not let him back into the house (not even in a separate bedroom) for that year. I withstood his attempts to “blackmail” me over the support he was voluntarily giving me and exposed his tactic to the courts. Every move he made, I countered. I stood my ground. Anything I gave to him I did of my own choice, not because I felt I had to. I fought for the sake of my children, and I no longer sacrificed myself to him out of a mistaken idea that it would somehow benefit them.

When it was all said and done and the decree came, I stood tall knowing that I had truly done all I could to save that marriage. My conscience was clear. I walked in my integrity. Even though I filed for separation and then divorce, he was the one who chose to walk away by refusing to do anything to save the marriage. He refused counseling. He refused to deal with his multiple addictions. He tried every manipulation tactic in the book, but G-d had brought me to a place of being able to recognize what was happening and to withstand them all.

Now, with my parents, it is similar. When they die, I will know that I tried everything I could, while maintaining healthy boundaries, to give them an opportunity to have some kind of relationship. I don’t need one with them although it would be nice. In fact, I really doubt that anything beyond the surface is even possible short of a HUGE miracle because my father still wants to control me, but he cannot.

I broke free of them about 9 years ago. It was a difficult journey, but just like in my marriage, G-d prepared me. He took me step by step by step, helping me to see the truth and to respond to that truth with boundary drawing. He also blessed me with a good non-cult husband (another miracle) who helped me. I cannot imagine trying to do it without him.

So, yes, I still contact my folks from time to time. I offer them an opportunity to get real on some level…or to at least talk about life in general. Yes, my father sends me BS and tries to give me grief and my mother ignores me after telling me that she really wants to talk to me. That is OK. I know not to take it personally. I am offering them a gift. If they refuse to take it, I will walk tall in my integrity. I will mourn for what could have been, but I will know I did my best and my conscience will remain clear.

I really think the biggest key is motivation. My motivation is one of love for them…in spite of them. It is a love I can only have because Yeshua enables me to have it. I have been forgiven for SO much. I know the darkness of my own heart (and I am sure it is even darker that I can see). How can I not forgive them and love them? They, too, are survivors. All of us are, in one way or another. Some are just more so than others.

Forgiveness and love do NOT mean letting them be ugly with me. It means standing in front of them and responding rather than reacting. I can do that now. I could not do that before. The programming is broken. The chains are gone. I have been set free.

Processing Through Artwork…

The latest pieces I have been putting up have to do with a therapist I worked with for a short time online. I had met him in person, but later, when I started to actually work with him a bit, he was different from what I remembered. I am grateful that he did give me back one thing…my art.

Because of my living situation…a situation that still exists, I was not able to do art. He told me about doing collages in MSWord. I am SO grateful for that. However, then what happened between him and I devastated my system and kind of messed us up. This latest batch of art reflects that.

In addition, I had been accessed by my local therapist and that was just starting to come out…another factor in things. That accessing is reflected in the some of the other pieces I recently put up…the ones tagged RM. Of the three therapists with whom I had negative experiences…thankfully, only one was actually my therapist. One I knew from her forum, KB. One I worked with a bit online and on the phone, JM. One was in person local, RM. I had left KB’s forum in ‘o5. I had met JM in person in ’05. I saw RM in the last quarter of ’06…during which time I dissociated his accessing me. Then I worked with JM a bit online and by phone in ’07…during which time the memories of the accessing started to surface.

It took another local therapist…one with no SRA client experience to help me work through the accessing and to break the hold JM had on me. I kept trying to break it off with JM, but every email he sent to me had a hook in it that I felt I had to reply to. Kind of like KB. I tried to work things out with her, but she was really good with the hooks.

So, the latest pieces are processing RM and JM. RM is cult. JM…well, let’s just say that there are some inside who believed at the time that he most likely was. Either that or he just got one heck of an ego thing going and it affected his ability to really hear people. I don’t know.

I really miss meeting with a therapist, but unless I could get back to my CA therapist, I don’t know that I could trust an SRA client experienced one again. Someone I really trust would have to recommend him/her…preferably her. And it would have to be a follower of Yeshua/Jesus…not a religious person…but a real disciple…even though two of these three therapists were “Christian” and the third said she went to church.

In the meantime, I have what my CA therapist used to call my “real therapist”…the Holy Spirit. He has guided me in many ways in my healing…and He still does.

 

 

Sui…well, you get the idea…

Within a few days, I read four things about suicide. One was a post at DIDiva where she gives a link to an article in the Huffington Post about a young man who killed himself. Reading that really made me very sad for him and for all the others who feel so alone…who feel such overwhelming darkness…and who feel that taking their life is the only real option. I am glad that he wrote a letter explaining what he did. Maybe it will help others.

I think it was the same day that I also read an online friend’s description of the aftermath of a suicide attempt. She especially wrote about the effects on the body. She also included a link to another person I know online whose blog I had never read…although we had crossed paths. That person mentioned an attempt in her year review…which led me to explore her blog a while.

I kept reading and wanting to respond, yet could not bring what I was feeling into words. Or at least not into words that I felt would do any good or have any kind of usefulness. I finally decided to write a post here instead, but had neither the time or wherewithal to put my feelings into thoughts and my thoughts into words on the screen. I just kept mulling it over…and experiencing emotions.

I can think of reasons that posts like that draw me. One is that it is possible that my sister committed suicide. I don’t know that it was intentional, but she did die as the result of her own actions. Some of those actions took the long, slow route…like bulimia and alcoholism. Boy was she a fighter…when the cult was not slapping her down.

I have received different stories about what happened and have even spoken with the coroner and read her report. I know my sister. There are things in the report that are fishy. But, hey, that is not exactly surprising considering how strong the cult is in that area. For example, my sis was a hard-core bulimic. For that alone, she was really living on borrowed time. Add to that alcohol. Know that those two things do to the body? It isn’t pretty. Yet, her stomach and liver were “unremarkable”! Excuse me! Unremarkable???? That is so wrong! Nothing about her teeth or knuckles, either. Personally, I think the family she lived with wanted to get rid of her and what they describe to me backs up my thought.

So that is one reason writings like that catch my eye. Another is that I have friends who struggle with this issue…a lot. And I care very much about them. I don’t want to lose them and I can only pray that they really know how much they mean to me…without them feeling pressured by that. I hope that makes sense.

I especially appreciated the post describing the aftermath because I have thought of suicide most of my life. I am pretty much beyond it now, but there was a time when it was on my mind…a LOT. It was not so much that I wanted to die. I just wanted the pain to stop…which is what I suspect happened to my sister. I think she was trying to number herself and over did it…or her battered body just finally gave out.

So…why am I alive? There are a number of reasons. I have always been determined not to leave that legacy to my loved ones…especially my children. I know that survivors of a loved one’s suicide are a lot more likely to commit suicide themselves. I did not want to put them at risk. Therefore, I searched for ways to do it that would not be obvious…that no one would think my death was intentional. I couldn’t find one.

There was also the fact that I believe I am here for a reason. The end of my life is G-d’s domain…not mine. Hard as it has been at times…I want to honor that. Fear of hell used to keep me alive, but I no longer believe that people go to hell for taking their lives. For other things, yes…but not for that. Not wanting to have to stand before my heavenly Abba explaining why I did it was compelling enough, though.

There is one thing I have found, however. There are times when the darkness and pain can become so severe that all of those reasons start to become meaningless. No matter how strong they are in normal life, when the darkness gets that strong, they fade into the background. Holding onto life becomes a challenge. Even now, I have my days when I want to go Home. I don’t act on it, but I can sure want it.

As far back as High School I would pray for G-d to take me Home as I slept. I don’t remember if I prayed that in Junior High. Junior High is when my childhood memories start to come into focus…although I am missing things from that, too. My mother told me about a major change during that time that I still only have a single incident flashback about. So I know I am still missing stuff.

Anyway, this is what I have been thinking on for the last few days. To all my friends (and anyone else out there) who are struggling with this issue…please, hold on. I do understand. Feel free to share with me how you feel. I know that can help. Either email me or find someone to talk to. Please know that someone cares. I know…when the darkness is that deep it may not really matter. But I feel a need to write it anyway.

Edit in on 1/17: When I wrote this the other day, there was something I wanted to include, but forgot. There is another reason I hesitated to do anything…I was terrified of surviving. There are a lot of aspects of surviving that I dreaded…such as shame, facing the anger and hurt of others and having others not trust me because they were always worried that I might try it again.

The biggest fear, though, was the possibility of surviving in a body that was broken beyond repair. I was terrified that I could end up paralyzed or with some kind of irreparable brain damage that would leave me dependent upon others (and, in my mind, a burden to them) for the rest of my life. I would feel like a double failure…unable to take my life and now a mess for others to deal with. That was my reality. That was my thinking in those times.

Doing OK…

I am doing OK…going through some of the typical struggles that take place this time of year. There are some issues that may make my appearance here iffy for the next couple weeks or so…but all is well. I just wanted to check in and let everyone know that I have not disappeared off the face of the planet. It is just that my internet will be catch as catch can after the next couple days or so.

I hope that everyone is practicing good self care…especially during this time of year. Please be good to yourselves and stay safe!

I offer safe love and gentle hugs to anyone who wants.

Cruelty and Healthy Boundaries…

What my mother has done is cruel. I keep trying to empathize and to understand her pain. But not matter how much I empathize…no matter how much I forgive…it still hurts like hell. I am the unwanted daughter. I did not step up to the plate. I did not take over. I stepped out of line. I left. I have no desire to be a princess other than in the One True Creator God’s kingdom.

I will never live up to her expectations. Her expectations (and his) lead to death. I have chosen a different path. If they do not want me…they can forget my son. I was actually willing to let them talk to him on the phone, but if they don’t want me…forget it. That is not being selfish…it is being real. It is not being vindictive…it is setting boundaries…healthy boundaries.

Boundaries are not OK in the cult. My whole life I had no boundaries. I did not know where I ended and other people began. I was trained to be a chameleon…to anticipate others needs/wants. Those in the cult who knew the trigger words and actions could get anything they wanted. NO MORE!!

I was accessed by a “Christian” therapist after we moved here. He had experience with cult clients. Little did I know that he was not only cult himself…but that we had met many years ago. It ends here…and now! I will not kowtow to my parents. I will not kowtow to anyone but my Lord…and He does not ask me to. He lifts my head to look into His eyes so that I can see His healing love.

I hurt. I am angry. I do not deserve to be treated this way. Even IF I had been the worst daughter on the planet…rather than simply and imperfect one…I do not deserve this. I have reached out via email for a year and a half. It has gone nowhere. I tried. My conscience is clear. I have done what I can. It is their loss. They can blame me all they want…but they have a part in this. I am an adult. I will not submit to them or to their control. I will not go back to the way things were.

So I will continue to mourn what was and I will mourn what never was. I will mourn the dream of having a somewhat regular family. I will keep my heart open until there is nothing left…and at that point…I will mourn for what will never be. I have dreams. I have always had dreams. Many of them are just broken dreams…turning to dust beneath my feet. Oh, well.

I have survived. I will survive. Nay…I will thrive! In spite of how hard my life is right now…I have more freedom than I ever did living under their control. The Creator has given me the gift of who I am…all of me. I am His…and no one else’s…no one’s.

I hope we can make peace before she dies…same with him. But if it does not happen…I refuse to beat myself up with guilt that is not mine.

Questions and a Log House

I am going away tomorrow. I am getting nervous. I will be alone…in a rural area. Granted…just down the drive…right before the street…is a family I know. (The two properties are connected in more ways than one.) And the woman who lives with her family in that house knows I am a survivor…but she doesn’t understand what all that means.

I am nervous. I will be away from what is familiar in an unfamiliar place. Yes…I have been there before and have even helped in some of the finishing of the logs and such. BUT…it is not “home”. I am not that familiar. The root of familiar is the same as the root for family. We live with our families. We know our families. We live in our homes. We are familiar with our homes.

Even though I am not really “comfortable” in my little RV…I am comfortable. I know…that sounds contradictory…but familiarity is comforting. That is why children of alcoholics and dysfunctional parents oftentimes end up marrying spouse who are similar…even when they swear they won’t. Their spouses may manifest their dysfunction in some different way…but it is still there.

I am a cult survivor. Alone in a rural area has not exactly turned me on. Then again…sometimes I just have to adjust…and continue to trust the Creator. Yeshua has protected me in so many ways and my location is not a hindrance to Him one bit.

I have my list of things to make sure I bring. I hope I have not left anything off. The most important things, of course, are my laptop and my art pieces. That is why I am going there. But I know it won’t be the sum total of what I do there. I don’t want to be “busy”. I want to just “be”…to rest with no demands…no interruptions…whether that resting be reading, praying, napping, just sitting…whatever.

All alone in a log house…a large log house. Talk about ambiance. I should get some pictures of that, too.  I know they want some, but I am not sure what they want. I’ll try to remember to ask before they leave.

I will be bringing my comfort foods and the things I want to eat. I not only do not want to put them out for food (I am staying for free), but it is also nice to know what to expect. I don’t want to have to wonder where the boundaries are…so I am bringing my own. It is easier for me that way.

Earlier today…I started to sense hurt inside again. Could it be that my system is looking ahead to having the privacy to feel pain and express pain? No holds barred? It’s certainly possible.

I leave tomorrow evening. It is time to go to bed. I might get a little bit of reading time in. It depends on how long it takes hubby to get to bed.

Good night, everyone!

I hope I don’t forget anything.

Reaching Out…

Previously, I wrote about trying to get hold of a couple to try and find some kind of in person (3D) support. Well, I did finally get her on the phone. I had pretty much decided how I wanted to approach it. Did that happen? Nope! Instead, I started off faltering and ended up just spilling things out. She was very caring as I told her I was losing it.

Her husband was not home at the time or else, she said, she would have come right over. So, she prayed for me and said that she would talk to him and get back to me the next day. I told her I had no idea how we would work this out. They are not close, location wise, and we are not members of their congregation. (He is a pastor.)

After pouring my heart out over the phone, I definitely felt better. It was a couple of days ago that I talked to her and, although I have not heard back from her, I do know her heart. I had told her I did not want to be a bother and she had assured me I was not. And I believe her. She knows our living situation and, like everyone else, cannot imagine how we do it. She knows it is extremely stressful.

What is really amazing to me is that I would normally be fretting like crazy at not hearing back from her. I would have all the old tapes playing about not being a bother…not taking up people’s time, etc. This time, though, instead of fretting at not hearing from her the next day, I am able to contentedly rest…knowing that there is a reason she is not getting back to me…a reason that I believe has nothing to do with me.

They may not be the ones the L-rd has for me (and my family)…and, if that is the case, it is OK. At least being able to talk to her did help me to feel like someone else knows some of what is going on and cares about me…about my family. It helped me to feel heard and to let off some of the stress.

Masks We Wear…

Everyone wears masks. It is called “propriety” and “a proper time and place”. It is not appropriate…nor is it safe or healthy…to share everything about ourselves with everyone else, anywhere and anytime.

Yet, we all do need someone and some time in which we can share the deeper things of our hearts. We need a safe place to land when we are struggling…someone with whom we can take the masks off. We need someone who will accept us and cheer us on in the struggles of life.

It is not that we need to share and reveal everything about ourselves to a single person. That could overwhelm them…especially if we are extreme abuse survivors. But we do all need someone safe with whom we can share the things that are most on our hearts, the things we most struggle with, our challenges, our joys, our fears, our growth, our victories, the things we have overcome, the positive steps taken, the stumbling we have done. We need someone who will not judge and who will love us as we are and cheer us on in our healing journey.

Sometimes, we cannot share our growth or our victories because it would mean sharing what we needed to have victory over…or sharing what we grew out of. It would mean sharing the darker sides of ourselves. We all have one…a darker side…the part of us we don’t really want anyone to know about. And yet, don’t we all wish that we had someone with whom we could share that darker side who would accept us and even love us anyway?

Not everyone is safe to share with. We must be cautious. We must take care to feel a person out…to not overwhelm them. We also have to recognize that sharing can kick off the old “don’t share” programming. We need to be safe when we share…prepared for the potential aftermath, especially if the one we are sharing with isn’t aware of the possible ramifications sharing can bring.

In all of this…there is a question I ask myself. While I long for someone with whom I can take my masks off…am I willing to be that someone for another person? Am I…can I…be safe to share with? Will I accept and love without judgment? Will I hold close to my heart what is shared with me…never sharing it with anyone else without permission? Am I willing to be for others what I need others to be for me?

Poem and Filing a Complaint

I wrote this in November, 2009. At the time, I was seriously working on a complaint against KB…the unethical therapist I wrote about previously in my blog. I ended up putting the complaint aside…not because I did not think I could win. Actually, I probably could. I have the benefit that she was not actually my therapist…having had only one phone call with her. Most of my interaction was through her online forum with a few emails. She did things that are easier to prove than if I were actually a client.

No…I pulled back because I figured it was not worth it. At first, I drove myself because I knew others were filing against her. I felt that I had to do this to help keep her from hurting others. I was told that Ross, too, had filed against her on behalf of some of her former clients. Again…I pushed myself, figuring that I would add my voice…you know…weight in numbers.

Then I got to thinking about it. I was paying a price in trying to write it up. It had to be done carefully. I am a very busy person with enough of my own stuff on my plate. As survivors, we each have to learn to protect ourselves. I cannot be a protector for others. I can support them. I can point out what to watch for…which is why I wrote the article on internet safety for Many Voices. The longer version is on my blog starting here.

I want to help others find ways to stay safe…even from unscrupulous therapists…through my blog…through articles…through being here to answer questions. KB will answer to G-d someday for all she has done…just as I will for all I have done in my life. I pray that she gets it together and stops hurting people. I know who I am. I know the truth. So does she and so does G-d. For now…that is enough.

Anyway…part of what I was experiencing, too, was a taking back of who I am. This poem is part of that process.

Flower

I am Flower!

Standing tall.

Standing strong.

Bending in the wind,
but not breaking.

I am Flower.

Speaking truth.

Offering peace.

Sharing hope.

I am Flower.

The delicate scent of my joy
may be temporarily
misplaced by the storm,
but it always returns
to be wafted along
upon gentle breezes.

I am Flower!

Beautiful.

Delicate.

Enduring.

I am Flower.

Blooming.

Growing.

Healing.

I am Flower!

©2009

What’s In a Song

This song really touches me deeply. It makes me want to cry. Although my life with my ex was not quite like that, there were times when I was afraid of him. But I don’t think that is quite what it is. I think it is the helplessness…the feeling of being trapped. I have felt that way almost all of my life.

Even as an adult, I felt trapped in my relationship with my parents. Moving out sort of helped…although I did end up back at home…where I felt even more trapped.

Getting married did not help, either…at least not the first time.  I was still trapped. I was still enmeshed with my parents…especially my mother. Of course, I am sure it did not help that my first marriage has all the earmarks of a cult arranged marriage…an alliance.

It was not until my second marriage…my non-cult marriage…that things started to change for me.  It took a while, but he provided a bit of a buffer between them and me. I started to be able to be around them and feel more comfortable…which isn’t saying a whole lot since I did not feel all that comfortable anyway.

My parents could control me so well. Hubby kind of interfered with that a little. It would take quite a few words to describe what would go on between us. It was so subtle and between the lines…not something an outsider would easily pick up on. In fact, I was still in the dark in so many ways as to how they were manipulating me. That is the way of the cult…programming…training. And I had been trained well for my job.

I did break free, though. It was a bit hairy as layer after layer of information came up. It was a journey…a process. It was a fight…and well worth it. My son was my biggest motivator. I was fighting to keep him safe.

So this song…I see a woman who is trapped. She could no more leave this jerk than fly. Just like I felt with my parents. I could not separate from them…not truly…not on a deep level. They had me.

But it isn’t just the video…it is the words, too.  Because of You I relate to hiding how I really feel. I grew up that way. Now I can be more real, but for most of life…even my adult life…I had to hide how I really felt…especially with the ex.

Even now I struggle at times with being open. That is mostly because I just don’t think people would be able to understand the depths of what I go through and what I feel…especially when I get triggered. That is when I hide the most. I am slowly opening up more. It depends on who I am with. And it depends a bit upon who I am, too.

Working on freedom hasn’t been easy. I am still working on it. Healing is hard.  So is being open. Being open is also a gamble. I just keep inching my way there…and then pulling back…observing. Some day…

This Is SO Important!

I read something that is SO important that I just had to share it with you. It has to do with how the media reports suicides and suicide attempts. It always concerns me that reported suicides can encourage some who are in a vulnerable place to try it themselves. This woman found information that can educate the media on how to report it without causing more damage.

You can find it here: The Importance of Proper Media Coverage of Suicide

Staying Safe As Survivors In Our Interactions With Others…Part 13

General Safety

1. Do NOT share your password with anyone. If you must, (like when you need someone to help you with a technical problem, change it as soon as that person is done! A friend of mine needed help with her email. She gave her password to a “trusted friend”. That “friend” then started sending emails in my friend’s name. It was a nightmare, especially since she was a multiple who lost time. It took awhile to figure out what was going on and who was doing it. But it was even worse than that because my friend also did not follow the next rule.

2. Never use the same password twice and always change your passwords periodically. My friend was also a forum owner. Since she used the same password for everything, this person had total access to every level of her forum. Not good! Some people even use the same password for banking. You can see how bad it would be if one of your accounts was compromised. If you used the same password for everything else, then ALL of your accounts would also be compromised.

In conclusion, I cannot emphasize enough to ALWAYS have someone overseeing ALL interactions. I know this list is not all-inclusive, but I hope that it helps others out there. I plan to continue to write about safety as I can and post it here. You are welcome to come by and read and do a search for whatever you are interested in. Who knows? Perhaps, I have written about it.

End of article.

The first post in this article is here.

Staying Safe As Survivors In Our Interactions With Others…Part 12

8. Supporting your professional. Be very careful if a professional is sharing his/her personal issues with you. I had one therapist who opened our appointment times sharing his struggles. Granted…I did inquire as to how he was…in a general sort of way. It is a way to break the ice and can be a simple common courtesy. He, though, took it to an unhealthy level. It became very awkward.

I could not really complain about the time being taken because he was rather generous with his time. I always got my “hour” and oftentimes even more. However, the boundaries became blurred and I found myself feeling like I needed to help him feel better. His sharing made it difficult to view him as someone who was helping me rather than as a needy person himself. I am not saying that professionals cannot have needs or need support. After all…they are human, too! What I am saying is that they need to go elsewhere for support. It shut down my sharing during appointments. Without sharing…there is no work really being done.

9. Wanting to see or touch parts of your body or talk in a sexual way. I know of one therapist who would intentionally trigger the littles of some friends of mine to come out. Then he touched their bodies inappropriately in the guise of doing healing work. Littles don’t know what is legitimate healing work! What he did was sick and caused a lot of damage and hurt. Again, I cannot emphasize strongly enough the necessity of doing whatever you can to insure that littles (or any other naive alters) are NEVER out alone or unsupervised.

To be continued…

The first post in this article is here.