Posts Tagged ‘birthdays’


My Sister

February 16, 2010

My sister had a brave heart. She was beautiful and childlike. She was a fighter who would not give up. She was trapped…caught in an unseen web that was too sticky for her to break free from. They had her where they wanted her.

My sister ran away from one cult family right into the arms of another…but she didn’t know. Neither of us did. At that time, we were both amnesic to our true history.

I wonder…did she ever figure it out before she died? Did she finally remember her childhood abuse…the younger years? Did she remember “everything”…or just the minor “stuff” she used as an excuse to run away?

My sister kept trying…in recovery and out of it. I remember her telling me how she had to fight with the recovery people to get her a counselor. She kept saying she needed one, but they did not want to give it to her…not even in those fancy, high class, expensive recovery places.

Was it because it was being paid for by his parents? After all…counseling might mean that she would remember something…something important…something damning…about them. Maybe she would finally wake up to the truth about her boyfriend and his parents…the family she lived with. Or…maybe she wanted a counselor because she already had an inkling of the truth? I will never know in this life.

This is the time of year that I especially think of my sister…as her birthday approaches in a couple of days. And I wonder about her death…and sometimes, I wonder if she even really died…or if they have her holed up somewhere. It didn’t look like her. And my father would not leave me alone with her. If he had…what would I have done? I don’t know. We weren’t supposed to touch the body…but I think I would have. It did NOT look like her. I had seen her within the last year.

My father said it did, but he had not seen her in years…so far as I know. But then…it is not exactly like I came from a truthful family. Ha! “Family”. What is THAT supposed to be? Not the caricature I grew up with.

It’s funny how everything seemed to be so good…on the outside looking in. All the memories I concocted about growing up seemed so OK…yet I was so not OK.  Stories my mother told me were woven through my mind with photos from the family albums. Childhood. Sure…that was my childhood…only…it wasn’t.

I remember the day I suddenly realized that it was all a lie…a fantasy. It has been so long now that I cannot remember if it was before or after I realized that I could not remember growing up with my sister. It is as if she did not exist…yet I know for fact she was there…in the same house with me.

So many things are buried in the mists of amnesia with a tiny flash of a snippet here and there that blazes through so fast that I can barely figure out what just went by. Yet…those flashes ARE there. And I do have the photographs. My sister was there. Some of the photos I took…yet, I can barely see anything beyond the photos themselves. Whatever I see is more like a surreal picture in my mind.

She died on my birthday. At least…I am told she died. I saw what was supposed to be her body…but it sometimes haunts me to this day. I know she was becoming “inconvenient”. I would not put it past them to agree behind closed doors while pretending to hate each other to me. Two families…warring for her body. It was sick. It was insane. It was my sister.

I will never get the chance to get to know her. Her living…except for the few times in the later years when I finally did meet up with her…is buried deep within. What I do remember makes me wonder if I really want to remember the rest. I don’t know. Maybe I should just create a life with her just like I created a life of my own? No…I want to honor her by remembering the truth…if I can.


More Thoughts on Mothers’ Day

May 10, 2009

Mother’s Day always holds mixed feelings for me. There are many things I regret about the way I have parented my sons. I really sought out to be a great mom. All I had to go on when my first child was born was that I knew the way I was raised was not good. I really wasn’t sure what was good. So, I read books on parenting…and I prayed.

It’s kind of funny how my ex, when we were married, used to always buy things for the boys to give me for this day. He always made a big deal out of it. Yet, he also disrespected me incredibly to them. What a mixed bag. Of course, after the divorce, it all came to a stop…the Mother’s Day stuff, I mean, not the disrespecting. That just kept going.

I love it when I get a call from my older ones, but they don’t always remember to do it. I typically try to just shrug it off. After all, I was no prize of a mom myself. But there are some things I did do. I loved them. I stood by them. While I did not tell them the whole truth, I did try to be truthful in what I did tell them. I didn’t play head games with them like their father did when he lied to them.

And then there is my own mother. How close can we be in a generational cult family? I am in extremely limited contact with her…via email only. I actually made a photo card with wording that I emailed to her. Nothing about Mother’s Day specifically…or about her birthday, which is also close by. But I did want to wish her a good day. I am trying to reach out to my parents, but I am very cautious as I don’t really think anything has changed. I guess I mostly just want them to know that I am not totally closed to them…should they actually wake up and desire some healing. I don’t know…it is rather mixed up for me right now. I just want to do what’s right…what is honorable…without compromising my safety. That is not always an easy thing to determine.

So, I will just keep praying and seeking Yahweh for what the safest and best thing to do is according to His will and purpose for me here on this earth. I have seen Him protect me in supernatural ways. I must keep trusting Him for that while not being needlessly foolish. (Some foolishness, sadly, might come naturally.)

So, there you have it…some more thoughts on Mothers’ Day.  I guess I will always grieve over what I could have had…over what I did have…over what I could have been…over what I have been…over what I wish I could be…over what I am. I will also keep seeking to grow and allow my Abba to change me into what He has created me to be. In the end, maybe I will become a better wife, mother and grandmother. I sure hope so.


Happy Birthday, Sis

February 18, 2009

I don’t know, sis, who is celebrating your birth…or your life. Maybe I am the only one on this planet…besides the One who so lovingly created you with His own hands.

Oh, dear heart, I want you to know that you are loved…so very loved. I miss you. I wish we could have gotten to know one another better…in more positive ways…outside of the sucky family dynamic that we both had to live with.

I sit here today and think about you. I think of how hard you fought…how hard you tried to win. I guess some might say that you never did win…that you lost. But you know what? I don’t think of you that way. I like to think of you as being in our heavenly Abba’s arms and away from all the horrors you knew in this life…of winning.

In some ways, I envy you. You are where I long to be…but it is not my time yet. You are beyond the pain of this life. I have to believe that. I have to see you in the loving arms of our Abba, protected forever and being loved as you have always deserved to be loved in this life.

I hope you know now just how much I really loved you…and I still do. I wish I could have shown it better in your life, but I know that you now understand why I could not. Our parents. Toward the end, they were living with me and I found myself fighting for my own life. Maybe the plan was to take us both out…I don’t know. I just know that I love you and I am so sorry for all the ways that I was not able to be there for you as I should have been and for all the ways I inflicted pain into your life. I am sorry that I could not rise above the family dynamic for you…or even for myself. Maybe that inability helped us to keep us alive. I don’t know. You don’t have to think about it now. You are beyond that.

Gosh, I wish I could see you…talk to you. Ask you what you remember. Were you as amnesic in your memories of me as I am to you??? I want to remember more of our life together…yet, perhaps it is a blessing that I don’t…given what I DO remember. I don’t know.

I just know that I sit here crying…thinking of you…wondering about you…praying that you truly are OK. I hope they have not just faked it all and hidden you away from me…out of fear that we might, together, reach the truth and gain freedom from them. I pray for you, in case you are still here, sis. If you are here, keep fighting, wherever you are. Keep fighting, sis and never give up!

But I hope that you are resting…in His Shalom/peace…in His arms.


Various Thoughts on My Life Right Now

February 10, 2009

Things have been feeling a little crazier than usual around here. I suppose it could have to do with contacting my parents…via email. Not sure. I am processing things they have written…and not written. My mother tried to lay a guilt trip on me, butI am not buying into it. My father, although he is the one who finally responded to my test emails from the middle of last year, apparently does not want to communicate with me. His responses were one and two word answers with no subject line or anything to even indicate what question he was answering. Fine.

He has never admitted what he has done…well, what he says he does not remember doing. I guess it is kind of difficult to admit to something you don’t remember. However, he could at least express concern over the fact that his daughter remembers these things. I don’t think he really cares. He expresses no interest in me whatsoever. The last communications we had years ago, he accused me of all sorts of things.

As for my mother, I am not sure where she is coming from. She worded things rather strangely. Is she trying to set off programming? Possibly. Or maybe she is just trying to be different? Perhaps she is just walking on eggshells, but I don’t really sense any love or true caring coming from her, either. Oh, well.

I suspect it is still all about my son. Who cares about me? I am just the one in between them and him. *sigh* Do we ever stop wishing that our parents really loved us and that we had a normal childhood? I mean, on the surface, we can think we have it handled, but deep down inside…is it really?

I was supposed to have t tomorrow, but I canceled it since hubs only worked a half day today. Apparently, this is the time of year when things start slowing down with the kind of work he does. I just could not justify spending the money, even though it was a discounted rate. I pushed it off for two more weeks, but I don’t really know if it will make any difference in our financial situation. We may be just as broke. And quite frankly, I am just not sure how comfortable I am with him anymore. I don’t know. He does not really understand SRA. Things just feel weird between him and I and I am unable to explain why. It is probably just me, but I really should at least email him and tell him how I feel….even if I can’t really put it into words.

I really wish I could find a pastor or someone like that to work with. Someone who understands SRA and DID. Is there someone like that in our area? I don’t know. I guess I would just have to start calling around to find out. Then again, if they said they understood…would I even trust them? Dare I trust them? I really think I mostly just need someone to bounce things off of…someone who understands. It does not need to be a therapist or professional, but it sure would help if they would be accepting and understanding.

I wrote a couple of poems. That always feels good. One is about longing for spring and the other is about dissociation.

My sister’s birthday is this month. She has been dead for almost 8 years now. It still effects me when I think of her. I guess being in contact with my parents is kind of…hmmm…not sure I have a word for it to explain the connection between being in contact with my parents and her birthday coming up. When I think of her, I think of her death. I think of the timing and of the weirdness of it. Sometimes I start to get in touch with being angry about it.

I really need the time, space and privacy to do art work. I know I can go to the church and use an empty room. However, that involves about a 20 plus minute drive each way, plus gas and planning. Still, the offer is open. I don’t know. It can be hard to plan being in the right frame of mind. Plus, someone still has to keep an eye on my son. I don’t know. I guess it is possible. I have to think about it. I know that a lot can be expressed and worked through with art. I also want to get back into doing collages and things on my pc. Time. Time. Time. I need more time.


A Friend’s Birthday

November 13, 2008

**editing in –it turns out her birthday is later. Yesterday was the anniversary of her leaving us.**

Yesterday was the birthday of a friend of mine who is no longer in this life. Her name is Jeannette. I saw today in my planner that her birthday was yesterday. I guess I did not look in my planner yesterday, so I missed it. I know that I miss her…still. She was my sister in Yeshua. She was my sister in survival. She was my friend.

I miss you, Jeannette…Falcon…Smurfette.

I’ll see you again.

with safe love and the gentlest of hugs,


Reflections of the Heart

September 21, 2008

Well, I know it probably looks as if I dropped off the face of the planet…but I did not. 🙂 I have been doing a lot of thinking, though, and praying. Praying about what I should be doing with my life…where my focus should be…where I should be spending my energy…and on whom.

I don’t believe that I am spending anywhere near enough time with my Creator. That is just plain dumb!! The One who made me…Yahweh God…is the One who knows me best…and who loves me the most! When I spend time with Him, it is a sweet time of fellowship.

There is a verse about God’s word being sweeter than honeycomb…or is it honey. Shoot…I really need to look that up! I should KNOW these things. See…evidence that I am not spending enough time with Him and His word!

Anyway, the idea is that God’s word is good to eat with the spirit and the heart, just like honey is good to eat with the mouth. I have found that to be so true! It is what sustains me in the hard times…and in the good ones, too; for I have found that, being a survivor, even the good times are fraught with hard things.

This is a difficult time…solstice and my father’s birthday. Yet, I know that God is with me. Nothing can happen that He does not allow or cause. Either way, He will turn it for my good. He will redeem it somehow. I will be able to use it to help someone else who has gone through things…or who is going through it now. Like my being accessed by my former t, I have learned good things from it…as hard as it was to go through.

No matter what happens, I know that He loves me. Ultimately, this world will fall away and I will be with Him forever. There will be no more pain, no more sorrow, no more death and suffering. While I am still here, I want to serve Him and others as best I can. I want to be an instrument of healing to others…if I can get my own stuff out of the way. He can change me…and He is. He can make me a better servant…and daughter for Him.

I am His joy. He showed me years ago that He is joyful when He sees me. I am both the Father’s joy (Abba’s joy)…and a source of joy. That makes my heart glad!

I hope to be writing here more soon. Many things have kept me away, but I am trying to reprioritize my life. Why am I here? What do I want to accomplish? What is God’s plan for me? I know His ultimate plan…but what is His shorter term plan…while I am still here? That is what I am seeking to know…what He wants me to do in this life here!


Mother’s Day and Changes

May 11, 2008

This is typically a difficult day for me. There are several reasons. I know it is difficult for many others, too. My mother’s birthday is close to this day and on some years, even falls upon this day. I love my mother. I wish we could be close…but that is just not possible. She is not emotionally safe for me. Neither is my father. And they may not be physically safe, either. I don’t really know. But now that I know what I know…I may be considered a threat to them…at least in their eyes. I wish them no harm. I just want to live in peace with others so much as it is in my power to do so.

In fact, my desire to live in peace is causing me to think about making some changes in my life. I have been sensing that Yahweh has been calling me to do this and I have been dragging my feet. Oh, there is always something that comes up that seems like a good reason to wait. But now I am seeing the folly of waiting. If I am supposed to change something…it is best to do it right away. Otherwise…there just might be some consequences as Yahweh allows some things to happen to nudge me in the direction He wants me to go.


Anniversaries and Bad Therapists

March 19, 2008

This is a cruddy time of year. The time between my sister’s birthday and the anniversary of her death…on my birthday…is hard. Add to that…bad therapists.

It was during this time last year that I was in between therapists. I had stopped going to one because things just did not feel right. I could not figure out what was wrong. For some reason part of me felt afraid when I would think of him, but I did not know why. So, this was the time when I was trying to uncover why the fear was there. And the anniversary of my discovery is coming up.

It was about the second week in April when I got my answer. My cult programming had been accessed and I had been betrayed and violated. Because of how it was done, I totally dissociated the whole thing. But it was in April that I started to get it back. I did several pieces of artwork in the process of working through it. Here is one of them. I wish I could get better pictures of my artwork.

Sadly, that was not the only betrayal I had to work through. I was also working with a t long distance via the phone and internet. I had met him in person and knew some of his clients. He was “helping” me to get to the bottom of this whole thing and ended being an arrogant guy who disrespected me and caused me a lot chaos and grief.


Thoughts on My Sister

February 21, 2008

Not sure how much I will be writing for a bit. This is a hard time of year for me. My sister’s birthday, followed in a couple of months by the anniversary of her death on my birthday tends to be an emotional time. I am reminded of how the memories of her are locked up deep inside. Some part of me remembers her, I am sure. But me, out here, consciously, does not. And the bits and pieces I do remember…are mostly not good.

I have placed her in Yahweh’s loving hands, for there is no better place to be. I have letters from her, somewhere, from when she was about 12. She writes of Jesus. She trusted Him back then. They tried to take that from her. When I had spoken to her as an adult she was into something totally different. But I trust that the little child within her never really gave up on Jesus. Actually, it is more that I trust that Yeshua/Jesus never gave up on her. He promises to never lose anyone the Abba/Father gives Him. He promises that NO one can take anyone from Him. Those promises comfort me when I think of my sister.

I picture her in heaven, in my Abba/Father’s lap, being held by Him with His big strong arms around her, holding her close to Him. I “see” her leaning with her head on His strong chest, listening to His heart beating out of love for her, protecting her and giving her the love she always deserved to have from our bio father and did not get.

I “see” Him honoring her in ways that we were not honored. Respecting her in ways that we were not respected. I “see” Him being that Daddy that we so desperately needed and did not have.

I grieve for what my sister went through in this life. I grieve for the healthy relationship we never had. I grieve for the ways my mother purposely tried to keep us apart and never let us develop a fun relationship. I grieve for the way my sister became bulimic in a desperate attempt to have some control over her life. I grieve for the way she started to drink at 12.

I grieve for the way another cult group tried to gain control over her…and did. I grieve for the way she was manipulated and controlled…all for the sake of others’ power trips. I grieve for the way she was trained in the ways of the cult…just as I was. I grieve for the child she miscarried in the pizza parlor that she honored me by trusting me enough to tell me about.

I am thankful that I got to see her a few times in the years before she died. I am thankful that she got to see her youngest nephew and meet Dave. I am thankful that she was a fighter who would not give up. I am thankful for the few things I have of hers to remember her by. I am thankful/hopeful that she no longer has to endure the pain of this life. I pray that she truly is in heaven and that they no longer have her.

Thinking of her brings up so much for me. The family power struggles. The cult power struggles. The controlling and manipulating. The jealousies. The false guilt trips. So much sick stuff in my family of origin. (FOO) I remember thinking the first time I saw “foo”…how appropriate! Foo on my foo!!

I sit here writing with tears sliding down my cheeks. I remember when I first decided to seek her out. It felt as if we were strangers. I felt NO emotional connection to her at all. But she was my sister. I sought her out and tried to develop some kind of relationship with her simply because…she was my sister.

It was incredibly hard. Of course, back then, I had no idea of our cult background. It was still buried deep within. We were both still being accessed, but I was clueless. Trust was not there. She did not trust me…and actually, with good reason I realized many years later. **sigh**

When she died, I had gone away to work with a woman who was a lay counselor. We were praying and asking Yahweh to bring healing and to restore the memories and show us what was inside. It was an incredible, awesome time. And during that time, she died under rather suspicious circumstances. I got two radically different stories regarding her death. Neither of them made any real sense.

A therapist I work with who has many years of experience with cult survivors had the sense that her death, timed as it was, may have been a warning to me as I was pushing to remember and deal with my past; which, of course, resulted in my eventually breaking free from my parents and the cult. Sometimes, I wonder if they were afraid that, if I broke free, I might actually be able to help her get free. And they did not want to give her up. Well, if they did kill her, or in any way contribute to her death, they just set her free. They cannot touch her in death. Nope! She is safe now. And I will hold onto that.

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