Been thinking about…

One of my sons has been creating a list of the places he has lived. He wants to write a “tell all”, which he tells me he will redact before he lets anyone else read it. In the process of helping him to pinpoint exact addresses, I did some Google searching.

Wow! Talk about being able to see the houses, up front and close. You can see overhead and you can see from the street. I was able to get all the addresses, but one. That one I nailed down to one or two possibilities, though.

The places we lived hold a lot of emotions and memories for me. So, to say it was a bit difficult at times is a bit of an understatement. As I “went” to place after place, I thought of people and events that happened in those place. Of all the places I “visited”, though, one really holds a mystery.

We used to live in an apartment. Someone took me for a drive one late afternoon up into the hills behind the house. I remember going through the trees and on the windy road for a while. I think I remember him asking me about going somewhere. I believe he also asked me if I was thirsty. Bingo! I suspect I was slipped one of those drugs that causes you to forget…a date rape drug.

The next thing I remember is that, all of a sudden, it was dark and I had no idea where we were. We were still (?) in the car and I remember commenting on the fact that it was dark and wondering when it got dark. I asked where we were and he told me. We were a lot farther from home than I had intended to go. He said he wanted to go on to a town I knew for dinner, but I just wanted to go home. He told me that we were not far from the freeway and I told him to take me home. All I could think of was getting home to my children ASAP.

He did take me home. My children were OK, although they were wondering where I had been. I had said something to them about going for a drive, but I did NOT expect to be gone so long and I certainly did not know that “dinner” was part of the drive. Nor did I know about whatever it was that happened during the blackout time.

The next day, I received a huge bouquet of red roses at work. It came with a note that said something about being sorry. And that was it. We never spoke again. The upside is that, when I heard there were roses for me at the front desk, I thought they came from someone else. The disappointment I felt when they did not, woke me up to the fact that I had grown to love the man who later became my husband. So sweet came out of oddity and blessing out of the weirdness.

My focus switched so much away from the drive that I never really did put things together until years later. It finally became obvious that something had happened and that I must have been slipped something. Either that, or he knew programming. He was an alcoholic, which means the cult could easily manipulate him. But I know he really did like me. He even wanted to marry me. So, I think the apology was sincere. It is just that he never told me what it was for…naturally.

Was it date rape? Was it a cult accessing and he was the one to get me there? Was he in the cult (although I do doubt that)? I don’t know and, at this late date (almost 20 years later), I suppose it does not really matter. It was just the last couple of days of  “been thinking about”…

 

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.

When Is It Rape?

I titled this some time ago. I finally decided to finish it. I feel a need to write. My guys came back home. They forgot something and so are going to go tomorrow evening instead. I decided to finish this anyway. Here is the post. I hope it is coherent and makes some kind of sense.

When is it rape?

When the other person feels coerced into having sex…regardless of the form it takes…regardless of whether there is penetration or groping or…fill in the blank.

When the other person does not really want to do it, but feels they have no say.

When the other person is forced physically into being the recipient.

When one person is a bully who just wants their own way without regard for the other person.

When it is an adult with a minor…a parent with a son or daughter.

When it is a boss with an employee.

When something is held over the other person’s head…like a promotion or being able to keep their job.

When the victim submits because of the threat of the victim being blamed and embarrassing their family.

When the victim is told that their family will not believe them or will disown them…or worse…when the victim is told that a member of their family will be killed if they don’t submit.

When you have to pry the other person’s legs apart to do it…and yes…even if that person is your WIFE!!!

When? When. When! Do I need to continue?

My ex raped me several times…but I could not call it that. Not until…

My boys had been seeing a therapist and I finally decided to see one myself. Not too long after I started to see her, I separated from my then husband. So, she switched gears on me. I had paged her…really needing to talk to her. She told me in the phone call that she felt we should switch from the childhood stuff I came to her for and deal with the marriage separation…that I was in crisis.

“Crisis”…the word was foreign to me. My whole life had felt crazy. This was “normal” for me. Crisis? I had NO idea what she was even talking about! At our next appointment, we talked about it. I told her how I did not relate to the idea of my situation being a “crisis”.

She gave me an assignment. I was to write down everything I wanted to say to my husband…not that I had to say it to him…thank G-d…but if I could say anything to him…what would I want to say. Well, I did just that.

When I brought it in, I handed it to her. She read it and then handed it back to me and told me to read it…out loud. I refused. I absolutely could NOT do that. I had written things that could not be spoken. The fact that I had even written them was a huge step for me. It went against everything I “knew” or “believed” about how I was to behave. I wrote my heart…but expressing my heart was verboten! Forbidden! I thought she was crazy, mean and unreasonable to expect me to read it out loud. After all…I had written it down, hadn’t I? Sheesh…what more could she want?

She insisted. I refused…to the point of throwing it on the floor. At that point, she picked it up and started reading it…out loud. She got to the part where I wrote about some incidents between my husband and I. I had merely brushed over his actions and I had not labeled them.

Yes…there was a word that would sometimes creep into the back of my mind, but I would always quickly shut it out. I figured that, if I used that word, I would be judged and people would explain that I was wrong and that my husband could not have done that kind of thing. I must have misunderstood…especially since he denied it. I simply could NOT apply that word to what had happened. After all…he was my husband and I was being difficult. Anything he did…I most likely deserved…and so it went in my head and heart. I had been trained well.

My therapist asked me to describe the incidents that I included on the list. I had only mentioned them in passing and she wanted details. As I explained to her what had happened…well…then she did the unthinkable. She looked right at me and softly said, “so…he raped you.” She used the “word”…the unthinkable word. She hit it right on the head and that word that I kept shoving out of my mind…even though I secretly thought it probably fit…came screaming to the front of my mind…and I cried.

Yes! It was RAPE! I don’t care if he remembered doing it. I don’t lie…unlike him. But then…that is typical of people who lie a lot…they never believe anyone else is telling the truth either. Funny how that is…deceitful people tend to believe that everyone must be just like them…and not to be trusted.

He raped me…more than once. I remember what it felt like…how each time it felt like a little piece of my heart just broke off and died. In fact, it was that feeling of inner death that the L-rd used years later to help get my children and me out of the charade of a marriage. He showed me that, if I did not set a particular boundary, I was going to die. And I was suddenly taken back to the rapes and how it felt. I knew what kind of death He meant.

It was a huge thing to do, but with His strength…I did it. It got pretty hairy, but I was determined. “No” meant “no”! Period! But he did not cross the line because this time I was not going to submit. I was willing to resist no matter where it led. I was prepared to be beat up…if need be. Thankfully…it did not come to that…although he did get physical…threw me on the bed and tried to undress me. I did not try to get away. I just resisted. Every time he stopped…I stopped…which gave him the idea I was giving in…until he started again and I resisted again. Oh, the threats he made…but I stood my ground. One week later, he was out of the house…at my request. It was time…and G-d showed me it was do or die. He gave me the strength to do what I needed to do.

What is rape? Take a look at that list! I could not stop my father. I could not stop my mother. I could not stop the cult. They took me. They took my sister. I could not stop my husband…until that moment in time. I could not stop the others who triggered my programming and used me. I could not stop the therapist who accessed me and used me almost four years ago. But I am a fighter! I have been through a lot and I will keep on fighting.

What’s In a Song

Vodpod videos no longer available.

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…

Pastor Time Again

Well, I met with the pastor again. It looks like we will be meeting weekly. I really appreciate this man. I gave him an article I had found on ritualistic abuse. It can be found here: Ritualistic Abuse. I also gave it to my t.

It is a very heavy article. It is my desire to be available to the survivors in our church. I know they must be there. This area is cult heavy. I also know that it is risky to reach out. I talked with him about his helping me to find some safe people in the church to share with to try and create a safe team to help survivors. He said he could do that.

It is also my desire to be able to share parts of my story. I want to share it in such a way that the non-survivor won’t pick up on anything, but the survivors will. I can use key wording that they will hear and know that someone who understands and shares their background is there. Hopefully, they will approach me and find support.

I am also hoping that he might share the article with some leaders so that they can pray about whether or not they are able to help. They need to really pray about it. This is no game. Last week, I spoke with my therapist about it, too. My insurance has run out and I am looking to change my relationship with him. It is my desire to move away from being client into more of a brother in God capacity…a co-healer/support person for survivors.

I want to be there to help survivors heal. If they want to meet with the pastor, meet with a therapist, get into church, I want to help them…to walk with them. I know that I will not do it perfectly, but I am willing to do what I can.

It is risky…but well worth the risk. Survivors need to be ministered to, too!

Thoughts on the Time of Year

What a time! I love the Autumn. It is my favorite season…on the outside. On the inside, I hate this time of year. I know what happens at the end of October and I hate it!

Most of the time I can push it to the back of my mind and heart. Yet…it always comes up. Somewhere, somehow, the thought of the children comes to mind…and I find myself fighting tears and lifting up a prayer for them.

What do I pray for? Well, I would like to think He would stop the whole hideous thing, but I know that is not realistic. It is not because God is not big enough, or strong enough, to stop it. It is because He is bound by His own rules. He gave us humans the ability to choose between good and evil, between doing what is right and doing what is wrong. Gentleman that He is, He won’t go back on His word. We were given choice and until He comes back and removes evil once and for all, we will have people committing evil acts.

So, no, I don’t really pray for Him to stop it…at least not very strongly. I do pray for Him to intervene. I pray for Him to protect the hearts and souls of those who will have to endure this time. I pray for Him to protect them from the pain and to take them quickly home. I pray for supernatural comfort to the victims.

I also pray for Him to open the eyes of the good people who are too afraid to take a real and serious look at what is going on around them. For those who are willing to see, I pray that He will open their hearts and give them courage to take a stand. Yet, I hold out little hope for that happening.

If people won’t even take a stand to stop the culture of death we can see so openly, how can I expect them to work to stop the hidden deaths? When people, including babies, are “legally” sacrificed through abortion and through starvation in the “medical” system on the altar of convenience and money…right out in the open, how can there be concern for the children and people being sacrificed in hidden rituals? They are all being sacrificed…whether openly or in secret and the temporary prince and ruler of this earth is laughing at the stupid humans who are serving him through these (and other) practices.

My heart always breaks when I think of these things. However, this time of year I am more keenly aware of it all. It is a reminder to me that this is not my true home. My true home in with God in His kingdom. What is to come after all this ugliness is a beauty so incredible that those who have seen it and come back are unable to adequately describe it. That is what I long for.

Feeling Positive

I am approaching a time of year when it is typically more difficult for me, due to being a cult survivor. Yet, I am also growing. Yes, I sense the struggle beginning to take place within. However, this time of year is only one part of my life. It is NOT my whole life! I refuse to let it be my whole life!

I am choosing to make sure that my focus is not so totally on what is starting to happen that I neglect to feel good and positive about other areas of my life. I am moving forward in some areas. That is exciting.

So, regardless of what this time of year brings…I am looking up! I am moving forward. I am not going to let my upcoming struggles keep me in the dark. Even when I find myself reeling under the enormity of things, I will also keep my eyes on the positive steps I am taking in my life!

Expressing Anger

It feels as if it has been forever since I have been able to come here to write. There are some things that have kept me away from my keyboard. The last few days I have been thinking about anger. What do you do when you cannot safely express anger at the offending person?

I would really love to hear others’ thoughts on this. You can comment anonymously.

I had something happen early in 2006. It was an incident that scared the heck out of me. I was backed into a corner, figuratively speaking, and interrogated for about an hour. I am proud of how well I did. I held my own pretty well. However, I had to use restraint for fear that it might cost someone else his job.

It was terrifying, angering, triggering. I still see the person who did this, on occasion…not by choice. Life circumstances bring us together, along with the woman who was also there when it happened. It is usually from a distance within a group and there are polite exchanges, nods and smiles…all very innocuous…as if nothing had happened.

I am pretty sure that they…both him and her…were afraid of my diagnosis. I wish they had asked me about it. Instead they asked someone behind my back. Grrrr! Even if the end result had been the same, it could have been handled differently.

Sometimes, I picture in my mind going into his office, and bringing her in, too. I want to tell them I forgive them, but to please not do that to anyone again. I was treated as if I were a criminal trying to hide something. I was made to feel as if I had been deceptive.

Other times, I want to corner him and really lay into him. How dare he treat me like that! I want to tell him what I really think…that he may be cult and that he is not fooling me and a whole host of things that run through my head. Obviously…that would NOT be a good idea to try out for real!

The other person was also accused of hiding something, but he managed to keep his job. What were we “hiding”? My cult background. There was nothing to disclose! It made no difference. It did not effect my ability to do what they asked me to do there. The group was not in any danger. Yet, it did not matter. I lost. I lost something that I was really feeling good about doing…all because someone there got wind of my background and got scared.

I cannot go to them and express my anger over what happened, although, in my mind, I sometimes do. So, what do I do with it? I will do fine for a while. Then something triggers it to the surface again and I find myself making comments of a type that I really don’t like to think of as coming from my heart. I realize that there is something still in there.

I do not want a root of bitterness to grow within me. I have chosen to forgive and, every time it comes up, I say it again…”I choose to forgive him/them.” It is mostly him because I think she just pretty much followed his lead. I forgive her for following him. I forgive the group for giving him so much power and authority.

Overall, I believe in the group they work for and don’t want to make waves for the group or friends who work there. Still, I am left with this anger and hurt that keeps coming up. The PTSD part of it at least is gone…other than the anger that sometimes gets stirred up. When it first happened, the PTSD was awful. It had just finally started to settle down from something else when this happened.

So, what do I do with this anger? How do I express it? That is what I think I need to work on now. I would love to hear from others what their thoughts are.

Working Through Things and Parent’s Days

Sometimes it can be really hard to work through some things. It is like, no matter which way we turn, no matter how we look at it, it is going to be hard. There is going to be pain.

I had a flashback last night…totally unexpected…at least the timing of it was. The nature of the flashback was actually pretty predictable…given my family history. But no one likes to remember things that make them feel badly…or that might put them in a bad light. But that is the nature of the cult.

I am struggling a bit to allow the memories to flow freely. That is always a challenge. I know that I could not face the hidden memories without Yahweh’s help. Nope…just could not do it.

This coming weekend is Mother’s Day. I don’t like Mother’s Day. It is a painful day for many and, for others, it is a cop out. It is very commercialized. Ick!

For many, it is painful as they remember lost children, or children they never were able to have. Or as they remember painful childhoods. For some, their mothers were abusive. For some, their mothers died when they were very young. For others, they feel guilty because they know they were not the kind of mother they could have been…or should have been. Some are estranged from their children…through no fault of their own…and this is just a very painful reminder. And for some, it is the only time of year that they are really acknowledged…and this day just rubs in the hurt of that as they wonder how sincere their children are really being.

Some people use it as a cop out. They figure that they are doing OK so long as they at least remember to do something nice for Mom one day a year. If a mother is truly a good mother, she deserves more than one day a year. We should all be expressing our gratitude to good mothers a whole lot more often than one day a year. Don’t do something on one day because it is expected. Surprise her! And, if a mother is a horrible mother, then why should anyone feel pressured to do something nice for her?

*sigh* I don’t know. I just know that I don’t like this time of year. I don’t like Mother’s Day and I don’t like Father’s Day…same reasons.

Don’t get me wrong. There are many unsung heroes out there known as mothers and fathers. They do deserve to be honored and acknowledged and treated special…but it should be all year…not just on one day. And for those of us who are unable to have a real and loving relationship with our mothers (and fathers), well, we should not feel pressured to do something nice for them just because it is “Mother’s Day” or “Father’s Day”.

AAAAAAAACKKKKKK!!! Ex Coming to Son’s Wedding!!

OK. So, I have PTSD. I am very dissociative. I don’t travel real well. I need my space and I am out of my comfort zone when I am away from home all day. Shoot…I am out of my comfort zone IN my own home! Add to that the two flights across the continent back home to my middle son’s wedding. Two because there is a layover.

I am really psyching myself up to having an adventure. If I can get through check in, I will at least be able to breathe then. We arrive around 11pm on a Saturday night…unless they change our flights again…only to be picked up and driven about 2 to 2 ½ hours away. We will be staying with my inlaws. I really like them, but it is not like being home.

On Friday, we will have to be taken by either train or car about 3 hours back past the airport to go check into one hotel and be picked up almost immediately to go to a wedding rehearsal and party. The next day we get picked up from that hotel to be taken out to breakfast and then to another hotel where the wedding party is staying.

The following day, Sunday, we go to a Renaissance wedding…all decked out in appropriate garb. *smile* Then we off to the reception until about 10 or 11 pm. Our bags will have to be already packed so that we can fall into bed. We will be sleeping in our traveling clothes as we have to take the first hotel shuttle at 6 am to the airport to start the two flights home.

This is a stressful time of year. I am maxed out and going nutso already. Add this trip to my regular stress. I am really fighting not to fly off the charts.

This son has refused to admit his anger at his bio father. When we visited at Thanksgiving, it was discussed that my ex was NOT invited, or even welcome, at the wedding, even to the degree of being bounced should he show up…my son’s wishes. Now, I love my son. I have been concerned about his denial of the anger others could so clearly see. My hubby has adopted him and my son considers him to be his real Dad. But…he needs to accept, face and deal with his anger at his bio father.

Well…I am really glad to see that he is acknowledging something. He told me today that his biofather might be coming to the wedding. This, naturally, caught me by surprise. I asked him about it. This is what he said in IM:
“I’ve changed my mind and allowed them to come
…I don’t think they deserve to come
…by allowing Joe to take part of something that he isn’t worthy to take part of, …it allows me to release part of the affect / anger he’s had over me
…if that makes any sense”

I told him that I think he should do whatever he needs to do for his own healing and that it does make sense, although not everyone may understand it.

Soooooo…I could scream!!!!! I don’t WANT my ex and his wife to be there. I am hoping they will not be dressed up in Renaissance garb…clearly marking a line of separation. I am selfish. And, yeah…maybe a bit jealous and insecure, too. I am very aware of my own failings as a parent.

Yet…I am so proud of my son and the steps he is taking for his own healing. This is a huge breaking through the denial. Yet…I am ticked inside. I very much believe my ex and his family to be cult…that our marriage was cult arranged…so that is another factor.

I feel sooooo tired. At first I was stunned. Then, when it started to hit and I could feel myself going crazy inside, I had to hide my true feelings because of my youngest son. Now…I just feel drained and…numb? I don’t know anymore. I wanted to scream…but I think I got maxed out on the emotion scale? I think I am going numb…which basically means that I am stuffing…which is not good.

What is next? I hope he does not invite my parents. Although…I have mixed feelings even about that…and THAT is scary…because my father is not a safe person…neither is my mother. Who knows? I feel so conflicted and confused lately. I want to know if both of my parents are still alive. I want to know if my mother recovered from her stroke. I want to know how they are doing. I have even contemplated doing what one sheriff recommended and buy a cheap prepay phone from their area (if I can afford it) and call them on it. They might or might not talk to me. They might or might not even answer the phone…but I want to do it. I want to try. And I don’t even know if that is good…or bad.

I feel conflicted and confused and tired and numb and?????? I want to cry…I think…not even sure about that.

Being Open About Myself

I don’t sign my name on my posts. There is a reason for that. Who I am is not as important as the message I bring. There was a time when I did not let anyone know who I really was…even on survivor forums…for safety reasons. As I share more of my history, it will become more clear as to why that has been a concern.

But lately, things have been changing for me…inside. I believe Yahweh is calling me to be more open. That is one reason I started this public blog. Yet, I do not put it on the blogger list. You will not find it in a google search; but I do appreciate anyone who puts the link on their page. There are ways to get here, obviously, since you are reading this! **smile** Whoever is supposed to read this blog…will! **GRIN**

I realize that the more open I am about my history and my life thoughts, the greater the likelihood that someone who knows me may suddenly think “Oh my gosh…I think I recognize who this is! Why I even talk to her and see her in person!” Or, “Wow! I recognize her writing. I know her from a forum!” Of course, I have invited a lot of my forum friends to come and read anyway, so they DO have an idea of who I am.

This blog is not really about who I am, though, but more about what Yahweh/God has done in my life. I would not be alive today. I would not be functioning even as well as I do…if it were not for Him. He has protected me in ways that are just amazing to me. I have survived generational cult abuse. And yes, I realize that the more I share, the more there is a likelihood that someone who is active in the cult might figure out who I am. But I figure, the group already knows where I am anyway. I have tangled with cult active therapists, both online and offline. It was very hard to deal with…but you know what? I am STILL standing!!!

Yahweh is my God. He is my protector. He is bigger than they ever could hope be. I will obey Him and write here and trust Him to take care of me and of those I love. Nothing happens by accident. I will trust Him to walk me through whatever comes down the road.