What Is Healing?

When I first started out on this last leg of my healing journey…the awareness of DID and the realization of some of what had happened to me (which was an “aha-now I understand” time)…I had an idea in mind of what healing looked like. For me, it meant that my hard work (with G-d’s help) was somehow going to reverse all that had been done to me and there would be a complete merging which I called “integration”. I looked at it like a broken bone or a sickness. I wanted to be restored to the condition prior to the break of illness…or to be made even better. After all, they say a broken bone that heals is stronger in the area of the break and will never break exactly there again. I wanted to be like pre-DID and trauma.

Looking back, I would have to say that I was pretty naive, but not in a bad way. I believed what I needed to believe in order to start the journey and do what needed to be done. There were things I did not yet understand about DID and how abuse affects the brain. There were also implications in my view of healing that I did not fully think through…implications that would later change my view of healing…and again…not in a bad way.

Initially, my goal was simply to work on whatever needed to be worked. If I needed to face a memory…so be it. If I needed to reach out to an insider…so be it. Whether it was writing, listening, sharing, art…I did it. I believed that if I just kept doing what I was doing that integration/merging would occur naturally. It would not have to be forced. And it pretty much did happen that way. As I focused on healing, integration and merging seemed to happen almost seamlessly and without any real effort. Some of it happened in huge chunks during several days I spent with a counselor at her home. I stayed with her twice and through days of prayer and working with insiders massive amounts of integration/merging happened.

Over time, I came to realize that not all of healing is as simple as that. Now, I believe that a huge part of healing is to simply live my life…enjoying it as best I can…and seeing the beauty around me in addition to seeing what is evil in the world. I walk in the Spirit of the Creator, trusting Him to show me whatever I need to see and to help me with whatever I need help with. He has always been my greatest Healer…my best therapist. And He has helped me see that my idea of what healing looks like was very faulty.

I know the Creator can do anything and I believe He could even make it like nothing had happened…but that is not real. Like so many others, I had to come to terms with a childhood I simply never had. It was not just a matter of putting the brain back to how it was originally created. All my childhood experiences shaped and affected my brain. Removing the effects of the negative experiences does not replace them with the positive effects of the good things that never happened!

I also realized that all those things that did happen a part of what make who I am today. And even with all my foibles and what I perceive as “weakness” and “brokenness”, I am a pretty awesome person. I am a walking miracle and I am doing pretty darn good considering all I have been through. So, part of healing is also accepting imperfect functionality.

So…maybe…healing is not about restoration (like a broken leg). Maybe it is more about learning to live as I am and celebrating the me I have become and the me I am becoming. Maybe it is more about giving myself the freedom to enjoy life now…without guilt and with less and less impact coming from the past. It is about accepting imperfect functionality. (What is “perfect”, anyway?) It is about learning not to compare myself to others…not my abilities, my weaknesses or my strengths. Every one of us has abilities of some kind; we just don’t all have the same ones. We all have weaknesses and we all have strengths, regardless of how healed or broken we are. It is about not comparing my healing journey to another’s. We all walk on different paths.

I know I still have more to learn, but I carry one thing with me on my learning/healing journey…one very important thing. I know the Creator of all things and I know who I am in my Creator. I know I can trust Him to continue to lead me. Whatever is ahead, He will help me to face it.

Living Life in the Face of Nastiness…

There are people in life who are simply nasty. They are mean, disrespectful and really don’t care how what they do affects others. When confronted with such people, we have choices to make. We can either react to them, wherein we lose ourselves by allowing them to control our lives and determine how we will live. Or, we can respond to them, wherein we maintain our own autonomy and integrity and choose how we shall live. I prefer the latter. That is my choice.

When I am confronted by nasty negative people I choose to remember that I, too, have had my “moments” of being nasty or ugly. It may not have been intentional. I may not have even been aware of how I was coming across. Or, I may have realized it as it was happening, but did not know how to “fix” it. Or maybe there was no fix…the damage was already done. Any way you look at it, I have had a negative impact on others at times in my life. So, I believe it is worthwhile to remain humble toward others, recognizing that I am certainly not perfect, either!

I also try to remember that everyone is the way they are for a reason. For good or bad, we have all had negative and positive experiences in life that have helped to shape us into what we are today. Sometimes, the balance between positive and negative was fairly even overall. But for some of us, one heavily outweighed the other.

For those whose positive experiences heavily outweighed the negative it can be difficult to understand those of who whose lives were the opposite. We may fumble where they do not. We may react to things that do not faze them one bit. I think it is good when each person can believe another’s story and try to imagine living in that reality. It can help us to be more empathetic toward others.

For those of us who weigh heavily on the negative, and some even in the extreme, it can be difficult to imagine life without that. We see the way others live and struggle to comprehend how they can do that. It just isn’t even on our radar.

Thankfully, though, there can be some good experiences even in the midst of craziness and evil, that give us some positive skills for life. For me, knowing my Creator made a HUGE difference. It is part of what helped to shape me and, I think, to temper how the abuse affected me.

I still deal with the physical effects of trauma brain and I can still experience flashbacks that are part of PTSD and getting  triggered.  However, I have learned over the years how to cope and work around the aftereffects. I know what I can do and what I cannot do and I no longer feel guilt or shame over what I cannot do…even when others do not understand. It is frustrating at times when people look less favorably upon me for what I cannot do. They cannot comprehend how even the simplest of things can be overwhelming at times. But I have learned to live with that and simply accept that there are things they simply do not know and, even if they did, might not be able to understand.

Life is good…even when it is hard. I am OK with that. My heavenly Abba/Father/true Daddy walks with me. So does my Messiah…Yeshua. Their Ruach/Spirit lives within me and that strengthens and comforts me…especially when life is hard.

I refuse to give up. I refuse to hold grudges. I refuse to not forgive. I choose to walk in freedom with my head held high…even when I am shaking inside.

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.

Maybe…It’s My Parents…(trying again)…

OK…so I decided to try calling my parents around the end of September. To recap, my mother had emailed me to tell me that she was dying of melanoma. I had responded immediately. She had said that she wished we could visit. I told her we don’t live close enough and we have no funds to go to her. I did, however, offer to call if she turned her caller ID off and gave me her current number. No response.

I finally decided to give the last number we had for her a try. When you look it up it says it is a cell phone, but apparently it is not. Cell phones don’t have extensions.

The call was not very long. I told her that I decided to try that number even though she had not gotten back to me. She apologized. She said that she had a whole long email written up but that she was nervous (or something) about sending it because she did not want to get angry. I did not ask her to clarify. (I am not stupid…or at least not totally.) I decided to let it go.

She asked if our son remembered that he was their little precious. I told her that I know he knows they love him, but she wanted to know about that specifically. I was trying to think if he did and she said it was OK if he didn’t. After all, he had been so young. I told her I did not know for sure.

The whole conversation felt pretty weird. It was also hard to get used to the sound of her voice. Apparently, the melanoma is in her throat. Sometimes she has no voice at all. I could tell it was her, but she sounded very different. I don’t know if that helped or made it harder.

There were moments of silence, especially when my father was on the phone. (She did ask if it was OK to put him on.) She cautiously asked questions about our location. I could tell she was trying not to stir anything up. I would say the conversation, if you could call it that…went “OK”. My father interrupted at one point because she was supposed to be leaving right away for an appointment. As she was hanging up, she said that my calling meant a lot to her…or something to that effect.

Then she said something about loving everyone in the family. Typically, she writes something (on the rare occasions that she actually does write) about loving my son. She might write something about loving the whole family, but it is typically all about my son. This time she said “everyone in the family”. I thought about how to respond. I almost let it go, but I didn’t. I allowed myself to be vulnerable.

I told her I was glad to hear her say that and that it was the closest I remembered her coming to actually saying she loved ME. She responded that she had told me that many times over the years. I told her it had been years since I had heard it. It was always about my son and I felt pushed aside. I don’t know whether she heard the catch in my voice, but she actually said “you’re right. And there is a reason for that. I want to explain it to you. I want you to know.” Or something VERY close to that. I was stunned.

I told her I would like to talk further and told her to email me and let me know when is a good time for me to call. I said that I loved them both and always had. I had said it more than once during the call, but I never really felt like I got an acknowledgment of that.

I did not hear from her. So, three days after the call, I emailed both of my parents. I told them I was glad we had the opportunity to talk a bit. I shared that it felt somewhat awkward,  but that it was to be expected. I told them I really do love them both, and always have, in spite of our disagreements. I also wrote that I cannot pretend that the disagreements never happened…nor can I deny what I know. However, I am willing to try to work around those things in an effort to reconnect on some level. I signed it love.

That was about two weeks ago. Nothing. Again…I try to be understanding. I mean…hey…she is battling cancer…again. She does not need upsets right now. On the other hand…she said this is no time to quibble. My guys were gone when I called. Does she figure it will be that way again? Does she not want to talk to me? I don’t know. I can think of questions to ask until the cows come home. The fact is I am not in her mind and I have no idea what either of them are thinking or feeling. I just know that I feel disconnected from them and have for many years. I do not remember a time of feeling close to my mother. Not sure I do with my father, either. So much of my childhood is shrouded in a fog of amnesia.

I am SO tired. I have been fighting to keep alert and going. It is difficult to focus. I have been interrupted so many times in writing this…but what else is new? I’ll be OK.

 

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.

We Got Together…

The other couple came over and we all just walked around the land and talked and shared the latest about our situation. It was good. If I heard correctly, they are looking to be friends…which would be wonderful for us…and, hopefully, for them. I know it can be hard for pastors to find friends when they relocate to a congregation. It is much easier to be friends with someone who is outside…like us. So, just maybe, this will be good for them and for us.

Hubby went to a bible study with him that evening and our son and I went to visit with the wife and her daughters. We all enjoyed it. I got to go see the new house they are trying to buy. We are excited for them. They “get it” that our living situation does not keep us from enjoying other people’s blessings. Not at all. We just enjoy being able to get together.

I hope we can get into something within the next few months so that we can invite them over and be able to do more with them.

I am hopeful.

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.