Posts Tagged ‘sister’

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Bits and Pieces and Feelin’ Blue…

June 22, 2010

I feel really blue right now. Not sure why. Maybe it is a bit of this and a bit of that. So, I think I will just kind of list what I’ve been doing and where I am right now. Some of it feels positive. Some of it does not feel so hot. Some feels neutral? I don’t know. I am rambling…not sure what to write. So, what follows comes in random order.

PC will be sent in. I will probably get a check back instead of a repaired PC. A check would be good…BUT this whole thing means no PC when I need to be working on my webinar. On the other hand, a check means I can get a PC with a CPU that can maybe handle my photoshop elements program. Emotionally = mixed bag.

Father’s Day. I don’t even know what to say about that one. Reality check: they are only interested in my son. OK…now I’m fighting tears. I keep telling myself that it does not matter. Heck…I was raised in a generational SRA family. What the heck DIFFERENCE does it make???? I got out. Stay out and move on. Sure…that is exactly what I do. But, you know what…these are my PARENTS!! They were just as abused. In fact, in some it was worse for them because they had no heart connection with the Creator to help them get through it. I did…and it did make a difference.

I grieve for them. I wish they would get healing, too. I wish their lives would turn around, too. I wish they would be as interested in me as they are my son. I actually thought the other day of emailing them with the reality of what they are doing…with the fact that I know it is only really him they are interested in. Telling them that I really don’t know what else to say. I see no indicators that they are the slightest bit interested in me…especially since I won’t renounce what I have told them I remember.

Yeah…it’s time for more grieving. Grieving: for what never was…for what could have been…for what was…for not having a “regular/healthy” family…for not remembering growing up with my sister. Yeah…THAT really hits a nerve.

When she died, they had her cremated. They wanted to scatter her ashes at a beach on the bay that my sister used to really like when she was still living with my parents. They wanted me to come along…without my hubby. By that time, I knew about the SRA. I knew about the DID. I knew about the programming. And there was no way in hell they were going to get me to go with them to an isolated beach without my hubby. So…there was either no “ceremony” or I was just left out. The whole thing with my sister was bizarre from start to finish. Her death. Her autopsy. Her funeral home junk. Ack! Yeah…let the tears flow.

My son. It has always been about my children….but especially this son. They moved into our house to get control of him…and to get rid of me. But they lost. They did not succeed. And now…years later…it is STILL all about him. No him…no anything really. All real communication results in silence. The last time I wrote to my father I told him that I left behind the insecure little girl that he once knew. I am a confident woman who stands on my own integrity before YHWH.Nothing he can say can change that. Nothing he can say can change the truth.

Then I asked him where he wanted to go from there. What kind of relationship did he want to have with the woman I have become. Answer: he just pressed me again to share with him what I remember. I won’t do that…and I told him why. Just as I had to remember on my own…he has to remember on his own. Otherwise, he might thing his recovered memories were “tainted”…”led”…”suggested”. (In other words…that they might be everything he has accused my memories of being.)

Since then…nothing. There is always a lag time between communication…a long lag time. I don’t rush to respond to him and vise versa. Same with the mother.

So now I feel like writing something that just kind of spells it out. I want to tell them that I know they are not interested in me. I accept that it is all about my son. Therefore, I see no reason to communicate further. I hope they can find some real peace in Yeshua/Jesus…some real healing. If, for some reason, they decide they want to really work on some kind of real relationship…they know my email addy. Otherwise…we might as well call things the way they really are. I am not into playing a game and I am not going to beg for their acceptance. Much as I would like to have “mom” and “dad”…I will not sacrifice my integrity to have it. I won’t pretend that nothing evil happened. I will just pray for them and leave it at that.

Well…I didn’t get very far with my list…did I? There is more…but I think my parents is really what it is mostly about right now. I put up more art on my other blog…finished putting up the 6 part series. Am trying to figure out to finish the webinar if my PC is gone…and especially if I have to buy a new one. I will figure it out.

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How Do I Feel, a Webinar and Random Thoughts

April 13, 2010

That is the question that has haunted me most of my life. How do I feel? Most of the time I was clueless as to how I really felt. Taught all of my life to deny my feelings, I had no idea how to even really identify them…unless, of course, they were felt intensely. Anything that was not felt intensely, forget it. I had no idea what I was feeling. And intense feelings were verboten. Stuff. Hide. Deny. But do NOT feel…and, if you do…NEVER show it!

It took me a long time to get to the point of beginning to recognize feelings. One thing that helped me was locating lists of feeling words on the internet. As I looked over the lists, I found that I started to relate to them. Little by little, I started to connect what I was “feeling” to the words. I have used those word lists to do art projects to help get my feelings out of the deep well inside and up to my conscious mind.

I need to locate those lists on the internet again for a webinar I will be doing in August. As a non-artist, I will be showing how I used art in my healing and word lists are a part of that. I want to give the people who come to the webinar all the resources I can to help them.

So…how do I feel…right now? I am not sure. Ha! How is that for a typical answer? At the moment, I think I have reached a place of basic contentment. I am OK with my world. How long that will last…who knows? I am ready for my class today, so I guess that qualifies as “confident”? “Prepared”? Is “prepared” a feeling? I think maybe it is. I feel “ready”!

I am getting my hair cut today, so I feel “anticipation”. And, maybe, a bit “nervous”. I don’t have much hair and it is difficult to do much of anything with it. I am trying something a little bit different.

How have I been feeling lately? Well…I have been busy…trying to get some things done.  And that has left me feeling a bit “frustrated” at times. My CPU is not fast enough (big enough?) for the programs I need to run. Having to run only one or two programs at a time for this multi-tasking woman is frustrating. However, I am grateful to have my laptop and to be able to run them at all!

My living situation causes me to be frustrated at times…well…sometimes it is frustration, but mostly I think it is more like “resignation”. I have to remember (and accept) that there are things I simply cannot do in this environment. Looking ahead, hopefully our situation will change over the summer. That will be great…if it happens.

If it happens, it will make it easier for me to get photos of the artwork I will need to share in the webinar. If it does not, I may be scrambling to do it elsewhere. Timing can be everything. I hope we are not moving during webinar time. Yikes! So, I stay in today. While the future is floating around in my mind somewhere, I do not focus on it. I pay it just enough attention so that I will be prepared and ready when the times comes to do the webinar, but not enough attention that I begin to fret over things that are beyond my control. And, if I need to, I can put the webinar off.

I am actually doing pretty well for this time of year. As my birthday approaches, I am sure it will start to hit more. My birthday is the anniversary of my sister’s death…a death that may have been a warning to me. And, sometimes, I wonder if she is even really dead. It did not look like her and my father would not allow me to be alone with her. I know they can stage those things. Did they? Do they have her hidden somewhere? I hate to even think of it. So, I pray for her…just in case.

Anyway, these are random thoughts, some attempted expressions of feelings, a bit of an update. What I feel can change on a moment’s notice. So, I am going to post this before what I feel changes…again.

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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.

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Bittersweet Memories

December 11, 2009

This is a time of year when I tend to think more about my family of origin…or foo…as some refer to theirs. Thinking about foo always brings mixed feelings.

I can remember “good” times…like when we waited with great anticipation to see if it would snow by Christmas. I recall the wonderful feelings I had looking out at the falling flakes…all fluffy and white. Or the excitement of looking out the window in the morning and seeing the ground all covered with a thick layer of white.

And then, if I am not careful, the intense emotion starts to hit. For some reason…even remembering good things tends to lead to emotional overload. I don’t know why. Even the best of memories can start me on that roller coaster ride of emotions. Why?

Perhaps it is because my memories seem to be so few…so scattered. Could it be that all the good that is buried comes to the surface in those few glimpses of the past? Or could it be that painful memories are masked by that intense “good” feeling…that “good” memory. Could it be that the intensity of good emotions…an intensity so strong as to be “painful”…is just a coverup for the very real pain lying underneath? Could the intensity be a way of my system telling me not to trust that the good feelings were all there was? A way of telling me that I need to keep looking…that there are hidden painful things I need to be open to seeing? I don’t know.

I think of Christmas and the wonder of it all. There is always one particular Christmas that comes to mind. I remember the house. I remember the location…even the address. I remember looking for the snow. I remember my sister and I getting matching pj’s for Christmas. I remember getting a Mary Poppins book. I can almost smell the tree. I get an emotional “feeling” or sensation that I was feeling then. I can see the lights on the tree in the darkened room. What I cannot see…is my sister.

I know she is there, but like so much of her life…I cannot see her. I cannot remember her. We lived in the same house for 10 years and I can barely remember her a handful of times during our growing up years…at the most. I am thankful to have been able to connect with her at least a little before she died.

I cannot remember my parents on that Christmas, either; but I know/sense they are there…lurking somewhere on the edge of my “vision”…with my sister. I do remember more of my parents than I do of my sister. Then again…I guess that is not saying much, is it?

Memories are funny. You cannot select only the bad ones to “forget” or to bury. The good ones go, too.

I am starting to feel older. I know my parents are very elderly by now. Although there has been some email contact…it has not really gone anywhere. And that, too, is bittersweet. Well…maybe just bitter. There isn’t really any sweetness about it. I have done what I could. I have opened the door and allowed them to see that they can still get hold of me (should they ever decide to confess, etc. ) There are things I wish we could talk about…things I wish I could ask…but I know they are not in that place…at least not yet.

This year, I am thinking of Hanukkah more than I am of Christmas. After all, we know Yeshua was not born even in this time of year, let alone on the 25th. So, for me, it is almost a cultural/social holiday…even though I think a lot of Yeshua’s coming…then and in the future. But this is the first year that I am thinking more of Hanukkah.

My foo never celebrated Hanukkah. In fact, I have a feeling that my father would probably be very disapproving. Oh, well. There was a miracle of lights…so legend has it. I think of how the Light of the World came to dwell amongst us. I think of the miracle of the lights represented by Hanukkah. It is not hard to link them together.

I also think of how light has come to me in my healing walk. So much darkness in my past…darkness that has…over time…been slowly replaced with light. I don’t doubt that there is more darkness in there to be revealed…I am OK with that. I know that the Lord of light…the very Light of the World…is here with me to walk me through whatever more is there to be revealed. I know I can count on Him to never leave me or forsake me…to never abandon me.

Do my parents think of me during this time? Do they even care? Does it even matter? They cannot change my healing. I cannot change them. Yet…I hope that during this Hanukkah time…they will allow the only One who can bring true deep and lasting healing to truly be a part of their lives. I hope they accept His love for them and that they, too, will be healed.

People are not born abusers. They are born with a propensity to selfishness, yes. They are born fallen creatures in a fallen world wanting their own way. But cruel abusers? No…they are made into that…not born that. Whatever my parents (and other abusers) went through…I hope they find healing. I hope they can bring all that darkness inside to the true Light of the world…Yeshua. I hope that they, too, can find healing Shalom…real peace…even in the midst of their pain.

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Tough Time of Year and Survivor Guilt

October 14, 2009

This is always a tough time of year. Knowing what I do about what goes on around this time of year…well, it is really hard to just skate through it. In some ways, I am effected less. In other ways, more.

I was doing pretty well…or so I thought. I don’t know if it just crept up on me…or if the rest of life just combined with it to kind of push me over the edge a bit. I find that I have been battling some depression lately…and I am teary. There are things in my life that could certainly cause that…aside from being a ritual abuse survivor. However, I really cannot assume that the RA stuff does not also impact me.

I find it interesting that I feel almost guilty when I feel OK during this time of year…when I am able to push aside my survivor issues and just enjoy life. It almost feels as if I am betraying the ones who will die this year…the ones who will be abused and tortured…the ones who will be filmed and sold. They deserve to be remembered…to be prayed for. So…when I feel better…I almost feel as if that is a betrayal of them.

Yet…could it not actually be an honoring of them…in the sense that at least one of us got out and conquered. Well, not conquered exactly…but was able to find joy and at least be able to somewhat function? I don’t know. These are just the things I am thinking of…the things I am feeling.

I love this season…but hate this time of year. I love the colors and smells, but hate what is going on in hidden places where people do not want to see.

Survivor guilt. Why should I make it out? Why should I be able to enjoy life? Yet…it is in the enjoyment of life…in spite of my history…that, perhaps, my truest victory lies. I win when I can enjoy any aspect of life…any at all. I win when I can enjoy my freedom…instead of being bound to them…instead of being their slave. I win! So, why can’t I just enjoy the winning? Because I know others are still suffering.

Many who have broken free from the cult groups still suffer in body and soul. Many have not broken free and they definitely still suffer. My own sister never really made it out. Do I celebrate life in her honor? Yes. Still…I cannot help but feel some guilt. At least…I think it is called guilt. I just know I struggle with having too much knowledge. Ignorance, though, is not safe. *sigh*

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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.

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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.

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