My Clouds, My Storms and Multiple Personality Disorder

Margie

2011年05月21日T06:47:00.000-07:00

My favorite aunt was the black sheep of the family. Not that there was any reason particularly why that was the case. The only thing I knew was that maybe Margie had called CPS on my grandmother when my mom and her were teenagers.

Of course, the implication at the time was that Margie was just trying to make trouble for Grandma. Or maybe it was the belief that life wouldn't be any better away from her. Maybe just maybe it would be worse. Still it was Margie's fault that the powers that be looked at the family and we all knew what a big sin that was.

Yet, one little sentence about Margie's wrong doing was all I ever got. Loaded with all that innuendo. It never put me off. I loved Margie. She was bigger than life, beautiful, funny and she cared about me.

I didn't care for her family much. She had three boys. They were wild, destructive. One even torched a garage. Can't remember if it was the neighbor's or their own. Clearly they were a family in crisis.

I heard stories about her controlling husband. Possessive, jealous, with a bad temper yet wanting her to be in the limelight and then maybe beating her for it. But I was young. I didn't understand the implications of all these things. All I knew was the couple of times I remember staying with my aunt I felt special even if her bratty boys picked on me. Being seen in her eyes somehow made me important, at least to her.

I dont' know when Margie went away. Maybe after the kids were grown. I just know she was moved off and had no contact with the family. She had a problem with booze but then all of them did, only she was the one that got pointed out.

Margie got heavy, very heavy. Her beautiful model's body lost under layers and layers of fat. I remember her face was so distorted I hardly recognized her. It was her laugh that confirmed for me it really was my beloved Margie.

She would be ostracized for a while, years sometimes. Then she suddenly reappear and I'd be so glad to see her. I never knew what or why she was come and gone only that she was. Still I worshiped that woman. I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be beautiful and funny.

I didn't care that the family considered her to be the black sheep. She was a queen to me. Probably because she cared about me, or I thought she did. Who really knows with her disappearing like that for years at a time but it never changed my feelings about her.

I don't' even know what happened to Aunt Margie. All I know is I ended up like her in a way I hadn't figured. I ended up the black sheep of the family. The one who told secrets. The one ostracized. The one spoken about in illicit terms.

I'll bet my siblings refer to me in the same terms as Margie got. Nothing specific anyone could put a finger on. Heck, if you did that, it might be possible to find the truth. No, the implication of secret unthinkable things has so much more power to keep one pushed off in a corner and ignored. For the first time in my life I understand why I never knew what Margie did or said for sure but with all I've been through I can certainly imagine. Makes me love her even more. Guess Margie and I were kindred spirits. I just didn't get it at the time.

A Little Bit of Clarification

2011年01月07日T12:27:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about my last post, Decisions........... and the fact I lumped most of my family within the scope of that post. Thinking about it now, I think I show do some clarifying about what I said.

The title of the post, Decisions, might make it sound like I made more than one decision at this time. That is not, however, what I did. I actually made the same decision to include my daughter and her family in the list of those family members that I keep my distance from. The rest of those on that list, I decided about many years ago. This newest decision was the most difficult because it involves one of my own children and my grandchildren.

I did not come by this decision lightly and I didn't actually push anyone away. The distance had already been imposed by my daughter who has not really spoken to me since she hung up on me sometime last summer.

I have posted about the issues that I thought were developing between my daughter and me. One of them, Betrayal was just at the beginning of me really realizing the differences between my daughter's values and mine. While I didn't have answers when I did that post, all I had was my feelings about an evolving situation, I probably "should" have realized where things were heading.

It was only as I began to learn of my daughter's involvement with "those people" around my recent lawsuit, that I began to see what I should have seen much earlier. There really has been no healing on the part of my daughter from things long since past. Her patterns of blaming me for her problems is still very much at play in how she navigates the world.

I thought the two of us were getting closer over the past few years. From the point I began teaching my granddaughter to ride, I thought our relationship over horses was healing our personal relationship. It turns out that I was wrong. It is obvious there has been no healing on her part. She is still very much set on punishing me for things that do not go her way.

From her days as a teenager whacked out on drugs to now, the only thing that seems to have changed in her behaviors is she is no longer doing drugs. She is still a victim and living by the rules of victimization. Her personal power is constantly manipulated to make it look like she is powerless. Life is something that is done to her, not something she lives. AND I am the source of her pain, IT is my fault.

Playing the victim all the time seems to work for her. It is a skill she has honed to a fine art and unfortunately she has passed it on to her children. The way the truth has been manipulated to support their behavior has not only shocked me but broken my heart in a way I'm sure my posts these last months has reflected.

It has been a difficult dark time, this realization that our relationship was based on a lie. My daughter has not healed nor forgiven despite years of counseling. Every thing she has done has been for a reason, to obtain a desired result, to manipulate, to gain my trust where it wasn't really deserved.

I was not ready nor prepared for the discovery that nothing had changed in our relationship over all these years. Nor was I prepared for the fact that my grandchildren were actively involved in helping to paint that picture of me as someone who I am not. I DO NOT NOW or have I ever hated my daughter or my grandchildren, nor am I the ogre she tries to make me. Them saying I am, will never make it so.

I am not going to go into all of the facts that have come to light that have made it clear how manipulative and dishonest my daughter actually is but I am going to say I have learned enough to know that the best place for me is at the distance my daughter has delegated me to, both from her and from her children.

I have no expectations that my daughter or her children will ever seek a real relationship with me. Should the day ever come that any of them are willing to step up and take responsibility for themselves and their lives, I will be there ready to help. I will not, however, open myself up again to having my heart stomped on. My expectations will not change until I have learned they have truly changed. In the meantime I will continue to protect my heart in whatever ways necessary.

Decisions...........

2011年01月02日T17:51:00.000-08:00

Laying in bed as I wait to fall asleep the things I want to post here easily come into my head. It's only when I get here in front of the computer that I can't remember a single thing. Last night there were more things rolling around in my brain than I can count. Now I wondering what in the heck they were.

I do, however, remember the premise. It's the same thing over and over for me lately. On one hand there is the family I wish I had and on the other there is the family that is real. There's quite a conflict between those two images. Resolving that conflict has been the trial for me this holiday season.

I think that's what has made holidays so hard for me the last few years. I love all those sappy holiday movies about family and love and things working out. However, we all know that isn't reality. Hopefully, we know too just wanting something doesn't make it happen.

I wish I had a wonderful relationship with all my children and my brothers and sister for that matter. The fact is that my values have changed immensely since I did therapy. I no longer function under the scope of those destructive old family rules that governed me when I was a child and dictated how I dealt with people and raised my children until I learned otherwise in therapy. Unfortunately much of my family still function under those old family rules.

Those opposing beliefs, of course, are a source of conflict. That pretty much means interacting with those family members who still follow those old family rules can be pretty stressful and even quite hurtful at time.

Since I cannot control their behavior, nor would I want to, that means I have the choice of either dealing with the conflict all the time or keeping my distance. Because there is such heartache involved I have chosen the later. It has been sad to make such a decision but in the long run it makes my life much more peaceful.

I cannot live up to a standard that is unrealistic and I will no longer try. I am not responsible for their unhappiness. That is their issue and since there is nothing I can do or say that will help there's really no point in continuing to try to make relationships work that are at such opposing odds.

This does not mean that I don't love these people. I love them with all my heart. It does mean that I am letting go of any expectations that we will be the type of family I long for. I know that just is not possible when blaming, lying, manipulating and protecting offenders is at the root of their behaviors and self awareness, responsibility for one's own actions and taking charge of one's own destiny are the last things they want.

I hope they will find true happiness some day. However, the road they are willing to travel to get there is just not one I will ever travel again. I know what works for me and those old ways aren't it. I will never go back to being a victim again, not even for those I love.

A Little More on My Rape

2010年12月06日T12:23:00.000-08:00

Funny how things can take twists you didn't expect. The character in the storyline did come around to tell her story. By that time the prosecutor refused to bring charges against the perpetrator because of the victim's initial actions leaving this perp out there on the streets.

While the details getting to this point are different from my rape, the end result is the same. I think the thing victims fear most is perpetrators still out there doing what they're doing.

In my case it was so long ago that the term "date rape" hadn't even been born yet. The fact I knew my perpetrator, even though I was not dating him, put law enforcement in to that mode it somehow must have been my fault. They didn't come right out and say that to me but they did say that rape would be very difficult to prove because I let this man into my apartment, not to mention the fact I'd been wearing my pajamas and a bathrobe when I did.

I don't really understand how my system functioned to get me through this ordeal. I have few memories of the actual assualt although I was covered in bruises and my body ached. I do have clear memories of speaking with the two officers that responded to my call, our conversation and the physical shape I was in.

I think these officers did believe me. I also think they thought the guy who did this to me was scum. I think they were frustrated by the system and how it functioned. I never got the impression from them it was my fault, only the impression that the system would not be so kind.

Since the patrolmen discouraged me from pressing any charges, they did agree they would speak to the man. They threatened him with charges if he didn't keep his distance from me. Keeping his distance was not going to be any easy thing to do because we worked in the same department at a large aircraft production plant in the computer division but they spelled out what they expected and this guy really did not come near me again.

I ended up loosing my job because of this rape. After the assault each time I reported for work my pulse elevated through the roof and I was sent home. I would miss weeks and weeks of work before my pulse would settle down where it belonged only to report back to work to have it rise through the roof again.

To be honest I didn't really even correlate the connection between the rape and these incidents at the time. It was only when I got older looking back on it that I put two and two together. Recently I was speaking about this with a friend and her response to me was "Your were having panic attacks."

Back in those days there wasn't such a diagnosis. No one, not even the doctors had an explanation for what was happening to me. Eventually my employer got tired of all my missed worked and it was used as an excuse to lay me off so there I was another example of how the victim is punished and the perpetrator goes free but even that is not why this rape mills around in my mind.

To be continued......................

Anniversary of Four Fallen Officers

2010年11月29日T18:04:00.000-08:00

Last year on this date, I was still recuperating from my trip to Tulsa for the US National All Arabian Horse Show when the news came across the airways that four police officers had been ambushed and murdered in my community. I was so exhausted from my trip, I didn't think much could phase me but the news of this terrible tragedy knocked me to my knees.

My entire community and the whole Pacific Northwest seemed to be right there with me. People across the nation were reeling as well. No one could fathom such an event happening yet there it was right there, smack dab in front of us, for all the world to see.

At the Forsa Coffee Company in Lakewood four officers getting coffee at the beginning of their shift were maliciously gunned down by a career criminal. Fast thinking baristas fleeing for their lives had enough sense to notice the white pickup truck that led to the perpetrator of this crime and his accomplice.

Broadcast across the world the memorial service for these fallen officers.
was only the beginnings of this story for my community. Over the past year we have gone from trying to care for the families of the fallen, remembrances of them at holidays and such, to witnessing the beginning of the trials of those who aided and abetted the fleeing gunman.

Still in disbelief, each time our wounds were reopened. We watched in horror as those involved in hiding the gunman tried to justify their behavior. We wondered how anyone could really believe there was a justification for hiding such a perpetrator. Before us the worst of what human nature has to offer.

We also watched the torn hearts and broken dreams of the families of the fallen officers sharing their stories or sitting there in the court room. There we saw strength and courage as these families put their personal feelings aside to honor the memories of their lost family members always being there to see their loved ones not forgotten and for justice to be served. Before us the best of what human nature has to offer.

Today on the anniversary of this tragic event a ceremony dedicating a memorial to these officers is being broadcast. To begin the acknowledgement of this day, family members went together to the Forsa Coffee Company and bought a cup of coffee at the exact moment their loved ones were gunned down one year ago today.

One of the speakers at the memorial service compared this tragic day to the explosion of the Challenger, the attack on the twin towers and the assassination of a president. I must admit that comparison rings true for me. My world was rocked as dramatically by this event as any of those national tragedies. My false perception of my safety was once again shaken to the core. If four police officers were no safer than that, how could I possibly feel safe in this world.

My all of my community has felt this fear, they have not succumbed to it. Instead of shrinking from this disturbing event, the community has embraced it as a way to honor these officers. From the beginning the families of the fallen have been taken under the wing of the community which has raised money for college funds for the children, seen to the day to day needs of the families, collected massive amounts of food in the names of the officers for those in need etc.

Funds were raised for two memorials to be built, one at the Forza Coffee Company and one at the Lakewood Police Station. The ceremony today officially dedicates these two memorials.
Once again, the tragic event of a year ago today is being used to gather food for those in need. Records for donations were already being broken before the ceremony was even finished. While these officers are gone from us, their memories are serving as an reminder of the strength and goodness people are capable of.
What better tribute could there be?

Thinking about Rape

2010年11月28日T20:27:00.000-08:00

One of the television shows I watch has been running a storyline about one of its main characters being raped in her office at work. It has been a realistic, dramatic portrayal from the beginning of the actual assault itself on through to how the victim has handled the situation.

Having been raped myself, you might think I'd stay away from what might push my buttons. Yet right from the beginning of my journey through recovery I've done exactly the opposite. I've utilized any and all triggers as a way to open up any wounds that need healing.

Now, many years after I've officially ceased therapy I am still drawn to things that are triggers for me. Sometimes I think I do it because it reaffirms for me that some people really do treat others as badly as I remember. Other times, maybe, I'm still working on accessing old wounds that need healing. Whatever it is, I found myself drawn to this storyline even though my family had hoped to avoid watching it.

In this particular drama the victim decided she didn't want anyone to know that she'd been raped. While she couldn't hide the fact she'd been badly beaten, she denied right from the start there was any rape. She just couldn't face people seeing her differently and was afraid of their pity. Her pride got in the way of doing what she needed to really heal.

Since I began my journey toward healing, I don't think pride has been my problem. It may have been at the root of the secrets held by some parts of me, but once I decided I was only as sick as my secrets, I was determined not to be captive to them anymore. When each new revelation became exposed I spilled my guts to anyone who would listen. I guess that was my way of taking my power back and getting free from the constraints inflicted upon me through the actions of others.

To be continued...............

A Little More on My Rape

What about Fair?

2010年11月09日T12:22:00.000-08:00

I know that life isn't supposed to be fair but despite that fairness is an important measure for me. I live my life trying to deal with others in a fair manner and I suppose I expect that others will do the same with me.

That expectation is where I get into trouble. I know most people expect others to treat them fairly. There's plenty of evidence of that in today's world. I also see that many of those people do not make dealing with others a practice they chose. They do as they please, regardless of the feelings or needs of others, yet expect everyone to be fair with them. The double standard drives me nuts.

I suspect that Muddy K in her comment on Bitter is correct. Bitterness is probably not what is behind the feelings I am experiencing. My rage(and believe me it currently is RAGE) is more about fairness than me being bitter. I am inflamed that I have been judged on someone else's manipulative portrayal of my behavior by a person with no first hand knowledge of my character.
Then that woman, having decided that I am what?...... the enemy of all her friends, joined into the beginnings of an unseemly and totally inaccurate confrontation on my FB page. I tried to suggest to her that maybe she should get the facts before she encourages someone to continue on in an inaccurate and troubling attempt to discredit me. The woman's response was a justification of her behavior filled with venom that makes no sense to me.

I have had no direct dealings with this woman. What is this assault from her about? Why is it so easy for her to attack someone she doesn't even know? AND why does she want to jump into the middle of something she doesn't even understand.

Do I have an opinion about this woman? You're darn right, I do. It's based on my personal experience with her and what I have personally seen. It is not based on what someone else has told me about her and that's where the fairness comes into this, I think.

I know enough about this woman to know she'd be screaming to the rooftops about fairness should the same thing happen to her. Yet, there she is carrying around this chip on her shoulder about me for something that has nothing to do with her and isn't even accurate in the first place. How do you deal with things like that?

Bitter

2010年11月07日T16:22:00.000-08:00

I came to a realization last night when I was at at annual dinner meeting for my horse club. I am getting to be rather bitter about some of the things that have happened to me over the last couple of years. I am so angry about people jumping in and taking sides who don't even know me or anything near the truth about stuff that has happened that it's done something inside me.

Normally I am pretty easy going. I am accepting of people along with their flaws and I don't take things personally. However, these betrayals by people I thought were my friends have felt darn personal and those on the fringe taking sides have felt pretty darn personal too. The whole thing has ellicted a response in me I just didn't expect and I'm not sure what I'm going to do about it. All I know is I don't like it at all.

Another Halloween

2010年10月28日T19:25:00.000-07:00

As another Halloween approached I can't help but thing of all the things that make be feel the way I do about this time of year. The post, A Brief Change in Direction is an overall explanation of how satanism operates as I understand it. Some Things I Can't Explain tell of a particular Halloween experience of mine at the age of 7. Being a victim of satanism pretty much guarantees I am always affected by this holiday and My Halloween Condition pretty much tells how I usually cope with that.

While I'm not one to dwell on my past, I won't even try to deny there are forces beyond us at work in this work so.I have a healthy perspective to protect myself when need be. With my experience last year Halloween - 2009 I wondered how I would be affected this year. I guess my answer came in the form of another memory.

This time I saw the angel that wrapped her wings around me and protected me from the darkness on that Halloween so many years ago. Up until now, I haven't known about that angel. Her presence, for some reason, tucked away with the memories of another alter who's been inaccessible until now. Why, I don't know. All I know for sure is this memory soothes my fears and makes another Halloween bearable.

The Hole in My Heart

2010年09月19日T13:48:00.000-07:00

I wonder sometimes when I see survivors say they are so scarred from what happened to them that they will never heal. Maybe it's a form of denial that kicks in because I want to believe it's possible to completely recover from childhood abuse. I understand that despite all the odds I have an innate faith that some how, some way I can be "normal," whatever that means. I guess it's that combination that drives me to bristle at the prospect that total healing is not possible.

Then there are those other days when the hole in my heart is so apparent there just is no way to deny its existence. Not every bump in the road leads to that awareness, only those closest to my heart. Then I am painfully aware of those things lacking in my life and the fact they will just never be there no matter how much I would like them to be. I cannot change what makes those things what they are. There's no magic wand to take away the pain and turn me into another person with a more loved history.

Yesterday I attended a memorial service. For me those kinds of events push lots of buttons. It doesn't matter if the family is genuinely loving or as dysfunctional as my family of origin, the purpose of the function is fraught with triggers. Had I been on a even keel before I went I probably would have fared better but I was already listing from a realization that has been stalking me for a while. The end result is that vivid awareness of the gaping hole in my heart. Now I must deal with it.

It doesn't matter that I know I could never succeed in making my mother love me because it never really had to do with me that she couldn't. It doesn't matter that I have no control over how my daughter feels for the same reasons. The sadness I feel over not having what I long for is overwhelming. Sometimes I wonder if it's just part of the human condition to not feel whole and I am yearning for something that will never be.

As usual I will turn my attention to those things I love. I know that will make me feel better. The horses always ease my pain and give me purpose. Still it saddens me that some people get their purpose in life from their families but others like me only wonder about such things. What would it be like to have a loving family? Would I be able to recognize it, if I did?

The realization that I must let go of yet another unrealistic expectation is hurtful. I know it is the only way to attain healing from this latest injury so I am prepared to make the journey. I know the heaviness I feel is part of that process and I must go through it. Still the weight of the pain is far too familiar and I am tired.

Another part of this process will be rebuilding some walls that I had let myself tear down. I understand now relinquishing those protections made me vulnerable. Evidently that was the plan and I have paid for my foolishness. I guess I'm still trying to figure out how I got sucked into this game in which breaking my heart was the prize. I thought I'd learned enough to avoid such catastrophes......evidently I was very, very wrong.

At this stage of the journey my eyes are wide open. I may not understand entirely how I got trapped but I understand enough to get myself out of this mess. I also understand enough to know the extent of my pain is what separates me from those who can knowingly do harm to others so I guess I'll embrace the pain as a good thing. While my life may not be as I wish sometimes, my heart will always be in the right place. When It's all said and done, that is what matters most to me so I guess I'm on the right track. I need to remind myself of that maybe that will bring some much need relief to this journey.

A Birthday Day..................

2010年09月08日T13:59:00.000-07:00

Today is my mother's birthday. Sometimes I hardly notice as this day passes. Other times it seems to smack me right in the face like it is something important that needs to be dealt with. I'm not really sure if it IS something that must be considered. All I know is the reminders of the date seem to be every where.

I don't miss my mother. The idea of a mother I have missed most of my life. The actuality of what I had and what I needed were two such totally different things the chasm between them feels insurmountable.

I know I don't what my mother back. I'm actually relieved that she is dead. I know she can't hurt anyone else although I'm afraid her influence is still affecting a lot of other people. Funny how someone can reach beyond the grave still spreading his/her poison but I am resigned to that.

I know my family of origin will never be one of those loving families that everyone wants. It's just not possible. Too many of the participants are clenching tightly those old family rules. I guess the fact it's spilled over into my current family plays a role in my sadness on this day.

Despite all the work I did to stop the cycle of abuse, I can see the tentacles of old rules tightly grasping my child. As much as my oldest daughter hated my mother, she is much like her. My daughter will do anything to protect herself, even at the expense of her children. I've seen enough evidence of that to know that for sure. It breaks my heart.

I know that I can't fix that, only she can, but I also know there's not much chance of that ever happening. She is firmly entrenched in old ways, comfortable with the ugliness familiarity entails. Her children are comfortable in the ways as well. Content to sit on the sidelines and do as they've been groomed to do. I pray that they find happiness. I doubt that they will.

I wonder what my mother would think of all of this. I guess she'd probably be appalled, or at least act like she was. She would point the finger at what she'd perceive as my failures hoping to deflect notice from her own. She'd talk long and loud to anyone who would listen about how I screwed up. To her, it would be validation that she was right about me. To me, it is validation I was right about her. I guess that's how life goes.

It's a times like this I think about heaven. I've long thought I didn't want to go to any heaven in which my mother might reside. Then one day it dawned on me, the only way she could be there was to have finally taken responsibility for herself. I doubt that will ever happen, but a part of me hopes it could. Just imagine, if that was indeed the case, maybe at the end of my life I might actually have a real family.

Thoughts on a Blogger's Secret........

2010年09月07日T13:38:00.000-07:00

I posted on my horse blog about the loss of one of my blogging friends. I guess I posted about it there because most knew her as a horse blogger but my relationship with her spread over to this blog. There was an unspoken connection between the two of us rooted in childhood abuse.

She never shared her story with me. With family rules about keeping the secret firmly in place, she believed that talking was not the way free of the burden she carried. I'd hoped that by reading here she might learn another way. That was just not to be the case.

It became apparent to me over the last couple of years she was struggling with a deep dark depression. Things happened in her life that fed the growing darkness that consumed her. I made every gesture I could think of trying to extend a helping hand but she just could not bring herself to reach out She retreated from blogging and swallowed everything down.

We were supposed to meet when I made my trip to Tulsa last year. That didn't happen because she had major surgery right before my trip making her unable to mobilize enough to come my direction. She'd hoped to get someone to bring her but that didn't happen either. It was with a heavy heart I left Tulsa not having gotten the opportunity to meet her face to face.

She'd told me of all the bloggers she'd met, I was the one she most wanted to meet. I suspected the reason for that was the connection we formed here, through this blog. She was undaunted by the depth of my abuse while many untreated victims would run fast and furiously the other direction. I had hopes that connection and a good one on one experience might help her find a door to escape from the chains that had her so tightly caught.

Her last post made a few weeks before her death clearly indicated she was struggling even more. The last words have haunted me from the day I first read them. We made another date to meet in Tulsa in 2011. She consoled my about my lawsuit woes and she was so excited about the possibility of a do over in Tulsa I thought maybe things were better. I hoped that touching base in between would be some kind of help in any time of need.

I have thought about her often. Then Sunday morning I got an email from another blogger whose a regular reader of her blog. In the subject line was just her name. Immediately my heart sank. I feared she was dead. That is exactly what it turned out to be although the other blogger didn't tell me, just directed me to her blog where a comment was posted by a family member telling the world of her "passing on July 18."

I know no details about what happened to my friend. All I know is that she is dead and what I feel. I suspect suicide might be the culprit. I feel like I let her down. My heart breaks for this woman I have never met face to face but who has deeply touched my soul.

I will always wonder about the secret that trapped her. I will always wonder about the tragic murder of a family member early last year that pushed her farther over the edge. I will always wonder if I could have/should have done more. although I can't even imagine what "more" might have been.

The world lost a good one the day my friend died. There just are not enough people like her in this world.

Still Processing..............

2010年08月22日T20:31:00.000-07:00

"I don't care what they say about you, MiKael Jane Smith, I think you're allllll right."

So what in the heck is that kind of a statement? It took me many months to figure out. It was a form of beating me down with the intention of making me dependant on the person who spoke those words. It was grooming, plain and simple, to throw me off balance and put me in a position where the only one I trusted was the one speaking those words.

Did it work? You're darn right it did. For the longest time I felt off balance and like I didn't belong anywhere. Despite all those years of therapy and the work I'd done to identify offenders, I got caught up in his game and the throws of a very sick relationship and I'm still paying the price.

I trusted someone who was absolutely UNTRUSTWORTHY. Not only that but I gave him all kinds of insights into where I was most vulnerable. I literally drew him a road map showing him how he could exploit me..........and he followed that map right to the letter. He set me up and I let him take advantage of me. Now I'm fighting to free myself from the damage he's done to me and to my reputation.

My dream hangs in the balance as he spreads his lies throughout the Arabian horse community. I fight for what's mine and to rebuild the damage he's doing as he fills others with his lies. How come with all my skills I didn't spot this charlatan for who he really is?

I did, you know, but I ignored my inner warnings. I doubted myself and it cost me BIG TIME! BUT I am not the only one it's costing. There are a barnful of people over there still caught in his game. Some say they are brain washed. I guess maybe that explains following someone like that even when his promises fall flat. The insecurities caused by his grooming win out over common sense. I guess I should consider myself lucky I figured it out at all and found my way free. Still as I struggle to maneuver my way through this tangled web of there making I can't help but contemplate all the things that led me down this path.

Sharing............and Caring..........and.............

2010年07月28日T20:14:00.000-07:00

I have this thing about sharing. Well, maybe it's not really about sharing so much as being able to decide what I share and what I don't. I guess it's not uncommon for victims of childhood abuse to feel this way.

I would give someone the shirt off my back if I thought it would help them. BUT I don't want anyone taking my shirt without asking. That comes down to control I guess and that's ok with me. While I'm not a controlling person as in needing to be in charge all the time, I do want people to respect my property and my space.

I am not really obsessive about wanting people to respect my space. I just want to know that it's a consideration and that I am not being taken for granted. Also it's one of those things that I am sure to honor in regards to the space and property of others.

However, I have this problem with my husband on this issue. He doesn't really regard my feelings when it comes to such things. Most of the time the things are small so not worth fussing about but sometimes he butts in where he is not wanted and he ruins something that's important to me. His lack of respect for my boundaries really infuriates me but doesn't seem to mean much to him.

I find myself tearing my hair out and he's standing there looking at me like I'm some kind of nut. That only makes me all the more angry. The sad part is nothing changes. He continues to be oblivious to what I need and does whatever he thinks should be fine. The end result is just more stress in a time where I'm already stressed to the max.

Sometimes I find myself wondering if I wouldn't just be better off out there on my own than trying to live with someone who says he loves me but doesn't really work at participating in this marriage. The loneliness of the situation is bad enough without the intrusions into the things that make my life bearable.

It is a difficult place to be and it's really getting old. Then it's not the only thing getting old. That's probably what scares me the most. As I age I can't help but wonder if I haven't sold myself down the river. All of the healing I accomplished and I still didn't end up in a healthy relationship. It just doesn't make sense.

Looking Back

2010年06月12日T22:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I find myself looking back over my life and wondering how I managed to make it where I am today. Coming from a childhood of abuse, I knew how to be a victim. Obviously I wasn't aware that's how I was living but it was. Everything I did was colored by the perspective I'd learned in my family of origin.

I think the most important part of my recovery was learning to change that perspective. Learning to see the world through the light of truth instead of disguised by the fog of lies my family lived was liberating.

It started off slowly. Discovering that those feelings I got about the weird guy on the corner were probably normal and that they could be trusted. Finding out that "normal" was NOT what happened at our house. Tying up and gagging toddlers to teach them not to cry isn't OK. Enemas aren't huge amounts of fluid held until you feel like bursting. The list goes on as did my new awareness that what happened in my home on a regular basis was twisted........even evil.

The most important things I learned where about the games. I learned to spot them instead of getting sucked in by them. Probably the most important one of those games was the "blame game." It's always someone else's fault. If I was hurt, I must have done something to deserve it.

But there were other games as well. Playing helpless to such someone in to take care of her, that one my mother was an expert at. She could play the poor widow with six kids like a pro so people wouldn't look beyond the surface to see what really lay underneath. When I finally did confront her, she feel right into it. It was amazing to not get sucked in by her helplessness and stand my ground.

By that time I knew every possible card she might play. It was a good thing because she played them all. She blamed me, my kids, life, God, you name it. She claimed she did her best but I knew she was just quoting words she'd seen. What she really wanted was for me to stop so she didn't have to hurt. The only thing that mattered to her was protecting herself from pain. She had no concern at all for me or what I might be feeling. That realization set me free from worrying or wondering about our relationship anymore.

It was clear she had no idea what it meant to be a mother and she really hadn't ever wanted to be one. Me walking out of her life was no loss for her. As long as it would allow her to be free from facing the truth of what she'd done, it was good. The reality of our relationship was finally out in the open. It was difficult but at least it was finally the truth.

Betrayal

2010年05月30日T02:47:00.001-07:00

How do you define betrayal? Is is just another subjective thing that is different to all people? Or is it something more finite, measurable in one's behavior? Is it different for all of us? Or is it a constant? Do you know it when it happens to you? Or are you stuck wondering what it is that's happening? Is it different for family members? Or the same no matter whose the transgressions?

I find myself wondering all these things and more. If my daughter continues to do business and socialize with someone who has harmed me in any way, is that ok? Or is that a betrayal? Or does it really matter what the harm was? I'd like to know.

It seems to me that as long as she continues to do business and socialize with them knowing what they have done and what they continue to do, that she is taking sides. She claims she is not. How can she not be? Why would she not be might be the better question? Isn't it a question of loyalty? If she keeps that connection to them, isn't she being disloyal to me?

Does family mean nothing? Or maybe it is our family that means nothing to her? Maybe I mean nothing to her? That's how it feels anyway. I can't even define it. All I know is it feels wrong to me. Now what am I going to do about it? I guess that is the biggest question of all.

My Reasons.........

2010年05月26日T14:40:00.000-07:00

Now that I put my opinion out there Are Multiples Responsible? , I guess it might be appropriate to share how I got to that opinion in the first place. After all, I didn't just take a leap of into oblivion to get there. I have life experiences that contributed to these feelings of mine.

The first time I really remember the subject of multiplicity as a legal defense was back a number of years. I think the case was a man named Billy Milligan. If I remember correctly he raped someone and MPD was his defense.

There was a book written about his case, The Minds of Billy Milligan It's been a long time since I read if but I remember correctly the man had something like seven alters. In the writing the author used the reference "minds" to indicate the beliefs and behaviors of those alters.

What I remember most about that book was that each alter seemed to manifest symptoms of being an offender. There wasn't one part without some sort of behavior that spoke loudly to this person's proclivity to manipulate his way through life, not ever being responsible for his behavior and screaming loudly how he was the victim here. When I put those characteristics all down on paper, it looked like a list you'd use to diagnosis an offender.

His lawyers argued he was just a victim. Most parts had no control over what happened and it would be a crime to lock the other parts up for what one had done. To me it looked like all the parts fulfilled the purpose of the whole, getting through life preying on others and always coping out to being a victim.

On the other side of the coin, I have personal experience with a couple of multiples who did bad things in their lives but probably never would have had they known they had another choice.

The first of these was a woman I met at the counseling center we both used. It turned out this woman was not only a cult survivor, she was a cult enforcer. She made people pay by either torture or murder for going against the cult's rules.

I can't tell you at what point I knew she had an alter than was an enforcer. It certainly wasn't right from the start but I developed a relationship with this woman. I cared about her and her safety. Guess I didn't think much about mine but that might be because I always felt I was safe with this woman. The thought she might hurt me just never crossed my mind.

At one point some strange things began happening. There was a break in at the counseling center. There was also a fire set in the dumpster outside. They thought it was cult activity of some kind.

Shortly after these things began, this woman disappeared. If I recall correctly, I knew she was fleeing but I didn't know the details except that it was for her to stay alive.

Many months later I met up with this woman for a while. It was then I learned the reason she had fled is because the cult had ordered her to kill me. I was doing lots of interviews and appearing on television shows and they wanted me silenced.

Despite those orders and the fact she was a multiple with memories walled off and little if any co-mingling of thoughts or feelings at the time, this woman put her own life at risk to save mine. I think the reason for that was at the core of her existence she knew I was truly her friend and the thought of killing me rocker her to the core.

Somehow she managed to subvert her programming to protect me and keep herself alive. At the time I met up with her she was doing extensive therapy to get free of the cult once and for all. By then other parts of her knew terrible things had been done over the years and they were trying to resolve the internal conflicts that were a result of doing things that were foreign to their beliefs but necessary for survival.

This was not my only experience being targeted by cult programming. There was a time I went to a hospital in Colorado to finish up my deprogramming. The first night I was there I met a woman who was also a cult survivor.

That woman had been in therapy for seventeen years with a psychiatrist at the hospital. He was considered to be the leading expert on satanic abuse in the country at the time probably because he had this woman as a patient.

Sitting down to dinner that night, the high priestess personality of this woman threatened to kill me if I didn't quit talking. I remember being more concerned maybe this doctor had no clue what he was doing than I was worried about being killed by this woman. After all, she was locked up in the hospital to keep her safe from this particular personality.

The woman got out from time to time. Then there would be some indication that this high priestess was up to her old tricks and the woman would put herself back in the hospital. I don't know how much time she was spending outside those walls but I do know she was determined to control the behavior of that one personality. The woman willingly gave up her freedom to be sure other alters were not doing bad things.

What I learned from both of these women was that a multiple can still be true to her/his core values without really knowing or understanding what other parts are doing. When those core values were compromised in a big way (we're talking about murder here as well as torturing people.........not little things like telling lies), somehow these multiples figured out a way to stay true to themselves.

To be continued...................

Are Multiples Responsible?

2010年05月25日T17:02:00.000-07:00

I was recently asked if I could help a friend understand how she could have known a woman for many years yet not known what that woman was capable of doing. The reason it was felt I might be able to help with this situation is because the "offending" party has been diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD) now known as Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID).

I am not offended by such questions. I am very open about my diagnosis. Obviously I have done nothing to hide my true identity during this blogging experience because I use the same user name for my horse blog and this blog. I am not worried about what people might think knowing this fact about me. I chose to not let secrets have power over me and my diagnosis would have just that if I treated it as something to hide.

I "get" that there are many reasons that people chose to hide a diagnosis of mental illness. There's lots of prejudice in the world about such things. For me, as I've stated before, I'm not convinced that my diagnosis is a mental illness.

I'm not saying that I think someone with the diagnosis isn't mentally ill. I believe that is possible. I don't, however, think it is a given. Just because someone is dissociative does not have to mean they are mentally ill. I think how that person functions should be the determination of mental illness or not.

I hope that being open about my "diagnosis" will help others learn to look more closely before jumping to conclusions. Anyone taking the time to get to know me will find I function pretty well even through things that would set "normal" people on their ear. I do that because I am in good mental health despite the fact I still have dissociative parts.

But off of this soap box and back to the question posed by my friend. You see this friend she had known for years has committed a pretty serious crime. Her defense is going to be that she is a multiple.

To be honest I don't know if I really answered my friend's question or if I got off on my own personal tanget. You see there is nothing that frustrates me more than someone who has committed real crimes using the defense of mulitlicity to get them off the hook.

Before I go down that road I might qualify my opinion first. I do believe that mulitiples can be manipulated to do crimes solely for the sake of others. I also believe when they are doing such as a direct result of programming and through no real choice of their own, they are not responsible for those behaviors.

In other words, someone who is really good at the core will essentially do everything possible to stay that way. They might have parts that do "bad" things to stay alive (even if it doesn't appear that way upon initial discovery) but it is survival at the root of their bad behavior not what they really believe to be right. Given the chance to chose for themselves instead of being dictated to by programming, those parts will find their way to the goodness they came from.

However, I do believe that crimes can be committed by a multiple that really are the choice of that whole person. I think the direction a part takes is directly related to the abuse that formed it AND the core values of the individual. That person who started off blaming the rest of the world and expecting the world owes them will still be that type of a person even though they might concoct good parts as a way to hide in society.

Goodness or evil in an individual do not reflect the overall tendency of the core. Most multiples I have met are basically good at the core even if they don't know it. They are looking for a way to fit in and be happy and not wanting it to be at the expense of others.

It is those who are making their way at the expense of others and copping out to being multiple that I believe are the ones that are esentially not good people. They use MPD as a mask to hide their antisocial behavior and aren't really all that interested in healing because the mask works so well.

Now I know this post will open a can of worms. I certainly hope that people will post their opinons and their questions. We can all learn from the input and I am certainly open to anything that will challenge my beliefs so have at it.................let the comments fly!

Help from The Serenity Prayer

2010年05月23日T21:31:00.000-07:00

I'm at another one of those times in my life where I find myself spending a lot of time measuring what I'm doing by the standard of the Serenity Prayer. As long as I can put things into those categories of what I have control over and what I don't, I seem to be able to stop the feeling that things are spinning out of control. It's funny how that simple measure can put things back into perspective.

Still I find myself wondering about many around me. There seem to be so many playing games, trying to control those around them, and, of course, some of them are trying to control me. Yet most of those people would say they are not game players. Their lack of understanding of what is and isn't within their control permeates everything they do.

I learned early on that making decisions on how someone else might respond was about wanting to control the behavior of others. Since I now "get" the futility of such actions, it was easy for me to shun such activity. I find no point in spinning my wheels hoping someone will respond as I hope. It's much easier to make decisions based on what I believe is right than on how I expect someone else to act.

That doesn't mean that I don't care how others react to what I do. It just means that wanting them to react in a given manner is no longer my motivation. Staying true to myself is a much easier goal than controlling the actions of others and it takes a lot less energy.

I "get" that many around me are not motivated in the same manner as I am. I am prepared for their disapproval because I don't play by their rules. Still bumping up against that is wearing even if it doesn't stop me from continuing on in my pursuit.

I think at times like these the Serenity Prayer helps me as well. When I can identify others behavior as controlling, I am less apt to be affected by it. I understand the fruitlessness of their endeavors, even if they don't. The frustration or anger they may feel is really a result of their own game playing and not about my ethics at all.
Being able to identify it as such makes it easier for me to not get caught up in their trap......to not take their issues on. It gives me some distance from the emotional turmoil controlling behavior takes. There's serenity in that.

Guilt

2010年05月14日T17:25:00.001-07:00

What is it about guilt that it is born by the not guilty and shunned by the guilty? It doesn't seem logical that victims willingly take on the guilt of the offenders and yet they do. After lots of therapy it's now obvious to me that offenders are more than willing to shove their guilt onto their victims. Offenders do not claim guilt in any fashion. If they do it's only a ruse to throw people off track, it is not truly born.

I certainly carried plenty of guilt in my lifetime. Buckling under it's weight I still pushed on trying to be "good enough" to make up for sins that weren't even mine in the first place. I remember how liberating it was when I realized that most guilt was not MINE to bear. I was really not 'bad" after all.

Still it's easy to feel guilt for reasons that are not logical or even accurate. I don't know if it's just because it's something I'm used to doing or some urge of all humans, or maybe I should say MOST humans, to assume guilt for anything that goes wrong or feels bad.
Clearly not all people are saddled with guilt. If they were, people couldn't do to one another what they do. The weight of guilt would prohibit such behavior.

It's those people who are unaffected by guilt that reek all kinds of havoc. Those people don't assume responsibility for their actions so they aren't saddled with the appropriate guilt. They always have some kind of excuse, some one else to blame. This enables some pretty bad behavior to be perputrated on others. Most times it is the victims of that behavior who will step right up to claim the guilt that should belong to the offender.

It is a trap forged in the darkness. Anyone who doubts the presence of evil needs to just look around to see this sinister plan. Guilt misused in this manner keeps good people down and bad people in control. The shame of guilt causes victims to quietly hide what they believe are their transgressions while the offenders go free to do further harm.

Keeping those secrets only aids in keeping victims bound by the chains of guilt they have assumed for the offender by beating victims down into an abyss of darkness, depression and self loathing. It's only by speaking out and exposing those secrets to the light of day, that guilt can be released from victims of its weight. While that guilt may not be transferred to the offender where it belongs at least the offender's behavior will be exposed so others might be warned of the dangers of the pathology of their behavior.

Once again we are down to darkness and light. So many things in life are healed by light. The winter blues melt in the sunlight taking the darkness of depression away. This dark plot to keep people victims lifts when secrets are exposed to the light of truth. The evil that keeps victims trapped cannot withstand the truth that wrongdoers shed their guilt at the expense of their victims. Victims who are taught to recognize this behavior can be finally liberated by its truth.

So why is it that we victims do not ourselves see this plot in the making? Why do we so willing step up and take responsiblity for things that are not ours to claim? Why can't we see that those claiming to be guiltless are USUALLY the most guilty of all?

Defective Child.........revisited

2010年04月28日T16:29:00.000-07:00

When asked to submit something for the recent Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse, I went searching through my archives for something appropriate. I guess for me there can be nothing more powerful than Defective Child so that fit the bill even though I had submitted the piece to the blog carnival before.

Reading over that piece is always emotional for me and it occurs to me there are so many layers in the poem maybe the power of her secret isn't as obvious to others as it is to me. There was no part in my system with more power over how I functioned in the world than this defective child.

Because this part had such power, my healing was directly dependant on liberating her from the chains applied by my programming. As long as she "believed" the trick they played on her, there was going to be no real freedom from the cult's influence over my life. The deep dark hole of depression that beckoned me led directly to her.

While it might be obvious this part was well hidden, what wasn't obvious was that she could only be accessed when I was "alone." The very nature of her function was to keep me stuck in the belief I didn't deserve to be alive. What better way to assure her silence than to make her inaccessible to anyone outside and her voice only heard inside when we were so low we wouldn't question her beliefs.

I suspect this is the part of me that "should" have been the vehicle the cult intended to use for their purposes. Instead of getting pissed off and vengeful, lashing out at the world, at the prospect of never being acceptable, she retreated into a prison of her own making.

That prison seems to be what prevented her programming from being accessed in a way that would have allowed the cult to "build" their foundation as they planned. However, even though they were unable to create the slave they wanted, they did indeed put the programming in place for the self destruct necessary to keep their secret.

The defective child was indeed convinced she had no right to be alive. The pain she felt from that "realization" was significant enough it ruled the entire system. She felt no love, no hope. The void those feelings created was such a vacuum that all other feelings could be sucked away into oblivion leaving only the belief being dead was better than a life like this.

It was no wonder I had no self esteem. This deeply hidden child could not be consoled. She was so convinced she deserved to feel as she did, she wouldn't risk exposing herself for fear of rejection. She could not, would not tolerate one more humiliation. She had reached the max of what she could endure at the time she was formed.

She never spoke. It was only leaks of feelings throughout the system in freaky out of control alone times that told of her existence. It was when I was plucked from my support system, the walls keeping her feelings contained began to give from the strain making me aware of her power.

Recognizing those feelings as the booby trap the cult planted to keep me silenced, I knew I must not succumb to the urge to die instead of deal with those feelings. However, I still had no idea a small child was the source of all that pain but I did know I was loosing the controls my system had established to keep me safe.

There was no road map to her location......no clues, no hunches......nothing but an awareness of darkness.......and the fear of being alone. In all truth I didn't know I was seeking a child. What I knew was I needed to fix that "black hole" that ruled me.
Only by being willing to address what I feared most was I able to locate this child. When I did, everything became clear. For the first time since my journey of healing began I understood what made me who I am.

It was the power of the Defective Child's secret that kept me caught in the trap where I abused myself believing I didn't have the right to live. Even though her message was buried deeply in my subconscious, it affected every aspect of my life. She believed she was guilty, even though she was not, and that is what kept me trapped.Understanding that she was an innocent caught in something beyond her control set me free.

I suspect from my experience with this child that the key to freedom from cult programming of other survivors probably lies within the secret held by the part each fears the most. Those "evil" ones that are abhorred, despised and even locked up are probably the ones most damaged, most misunderstood, if the truth is ever told.

Not that I am advocating just turning those parts loose to reek their havoc, but accepting them and understanding maybe there really are good reasons they turned out as they did might just make a huge difference in healing. Being willing to hear each story with compassion and understanding might just lead to the liberation of another "defective child."

A Little on Why...........

2010年04月19日T14:42:00.000-07:00

To say I've been consumed with the FB commenter I wrote about in
My Own Questions for a Change.......... would be a big overstatement but I have been thinking about it a lot. While it makes sense to me in the context of how it fits into my current dilemma, that's not the only reason it affects me.

I have known this commenter and her mother since the young woman was a teenager. They were among my first friends made at horse shows even though their mother/daughter relationship was stormy and abusive. Newly "graduated" from therapy I felt I had the skills to maintain proper boundaries while still having a relationship with these two people and I thought maybe I could help out the daughter in some way.

I guess in a way I did help the daughter in those early days. My arrival during a altercation between the two could cool things a little. Sometimes I even managed to mediate although I doubt either of them realized I was even attempting this. My help was subtle for sure. I didn't want to push anyone's buttons or make them feel defensive.

That relationship has maintained over twenty years. The young woman is in her thirties and now has children of her own. I might add she treats them in the same manner her mother treated her. It's been sad to see and I've even called her on it a few times. I'd hope our friendship over the years might affect this. It obviously didn't.

I tried to help her get started in horse training a few years back and it bit me.....and bit me good. Some horses of mine were mistreated. It was not good. I tried to speak with her about these things and she shrugged them off, copping out to having a meltdown on one situation and taking no responsibility for any of her actions.

Because her mother and I were friends,I thought I could put those things behind me and still maintain our friendly relationship. That, however, has not been the case although there was a pretense of friendship from them for a while.

I guess the point of all of this for me is I've come to the realization that the energy I'm putting into the FB communication has to do with grieving the loss of those relationships. Even though obviously they never really were what I thought them to be, getting to the point of understanding that has been part of this process as I mulled things over and over finding my way.

The time I spend "feeling" and thinking about this, is necessary to put this thing to rest. I am hurt by their betrayal and those feelings need to be resolved.

I'm not particularly fond of the processing involved. On one hand I think they're not worthy of my time. On the other I can't deny the hurt I feel and it tells me I'm not where I need to be yet. There's still work to do but I'm getting closer.

It doesn't help that it's wound up with the other situation. There are parallels in both and the two parties have joined forces to discredit me. I know in the long run the truth will win out but that doesn't change the amount of betrayal I feel at the hands of both, nor the damage they are currently doing to my reputation.

It wasn't just that this guy undermined my self esteem, he undermined my business as well. I made business decisions based on his contractual obligation to me that I would not have made otherwise. When he knowingly defaulted, it affected the success of those business plan decisions and goals. I'm just beginning to realize the damage caused by that breech of contract.

Then he's out there spreading his lies that I'm the one not honoring the contract. That young woman and her mother are taking every advantage to take pot shots at me under the guise of supporting this man while really trying to hide their own wrong doing.

I probably would be at the place I'm ready to put the young woman and her mother behind me, if she wasn't so enmeshed in the current situation. That's not going to be resolved any time soon and every time something "new" happens, the whole thing gets stirred up over again and I'm as angry with the whole slew of them.

I feel like I'm under attack no matter what I do and I'm getting tired. Even though I know I can't control what they do, it still frustrates me that my good intentions have gotten me into this mess and that some people will believe what they say despite my ethics.

It's that whole "life is not fair" thing. I have worked hard at being a good person in all avenues of my life and to have my reputation stomped on by those with little regard for anything but themselves really irks me. I know it doesn't matter that it's not fair. Life just is what it is........... but that makes me mad too.

There are so many levels of betrayal in this mess. It's not wonder I'm struggling my way through. I'm just trying to take it one day at a time to get myself through.

Father

2010年04月11日T19:46:00.000-07:00

My father died from cancer when I was twelve. He was first diagnosed with cancer when I was about six I think, maybe, seven. I'm just not sure. I have very few memories of my dad except for one when I was two which my mother insists is not a memory at all but only something I was told and a couple of other odd ones thrown in there.

Overall, I really don't remember much about the man except what others have told me. I had a strong love for him as a child. I remember that feeling but no memories to tie that love to which seems really odd to me.

I think to have those feelings there should be memories of some sort of connection, a bond between us established by a real relationship. Yet there are no memories there. Even the few I have don't have any interaction between him and me. I have pretty much forgotten him, I guess, except for what I felt.

This blankness around him is not something new. It has been there for most of my life. At the time I did therapy I didn't remember anymore than I do now. Throughout my adult life I had no recall any different than now.

After my dad died I remember being devestated but I don't remember ever thinking about being with him or what specifically I might be missing. All I remember is about his illness and how he spent most of it in a hospital.

Even when he came home for a brief time not too long before he died, I have no visual memory of him in the house. I have the memory of the closed door to his room or the closed door of the bathroom because he was in there but no memory of ever crossing paths with him while he was in the house. I remember the priest coming to bring him communion and the door closing on him as he went into my father's room but I did not see my father.

My mother didn't want us to see him. She thought it would be too traumatic for us to see him so ill. I think this caused more problems than it helped..........at least for me. I have a huge hole in my heart where a father should be.

I suppose it's odd considering all the abuse in my background that this thing about my dad is so disturbing to me. I guess it's because there were those memories of home that seemed "normal" where I didn't know or remember the abuse and my father "should" be part of those. Yet I have this hole.

Others have fond memories of my dad. There were people who thought my dad was a saint. I don't remember him ever hurting me, nor do I have any fear of him. I sure had fear of my mother. deeply buried, of course, but just as deeply rooted. My feelings for my father are more like those for my grandfather but I have memories of grandpa.

I guess it's just another one of those complicated things about me. I wish it was different. I wish I could remember the man but all I remember is the hole left by his abcense.

Remembering

2010年04月09日T17:32:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned before that I was married to a batterer, not once but twice. Each of my first two husband's had problems, huge problems, with anger. Having chosen that type of man to trust is the reason I sought out therapy in the first place, wanting to know what it was about me that caused me to make such decisions.

Those years of being afraid for my life are long since over. However, recently one of the soap operas I sometimes watch has run a story line of teen battery. A couple of weeks ago I watched a scene that I had to turn off it so struck a cord with me.

The teen age girl was being assaulted by her boyfriend in a scene so realistic it brought tears to my eyes and fear to my heart. For the first time in many years I relived the terror of those days when I thought I was going to die at the hands of my then husband.

My reaction to this scene caught me off guard. My heart began to pound as fear immobilized me just like it used to back during those days. I felt trapped when all I needed to do to escape was change the channel. I had to get my now husband, Dave, to do that for me.

Since that episode aired I have been drawn to that story line. Each scene tugs at my heart strings as a part of me experiences feelings from so long ago. While the circumstances are very different, the feelings are the same. I remember the feeling of a neck tie or a phone cord around my neck strangling the life out of me as I tried to push my attacker off. I remember the family and friends of the attacker blaming the abuse on me. I remember the humiliation. I remember believing it was my fault.

I remember stuffing all those feelings in a box and putting them away so I didn't have to feel. Putting things on a shelf somewhere was the only way I could survive. It was the only way to prevent a repeat performance before the man had time to settle. Episodes too close together could easily have resulted in my death.

Now, Pandora's box has been opened and those old feelings have spilled out to never be contained again. I will no longer be a victim of fear whether it be fear of those feelings or fear of repercussions because I dared tell. Instead I find myself processing these old things from nearly forty years ago and finally healing up the wounds.

The memories flash before me like a slide show of horror. Again I am surprised at all the things I have lived but never felt because of the coping mechanism that is MPD/DID.

I am grateful that today my healing process does not take the time it did those twenty years ago so that when I now feel these things the horror is only fleeting. The self-loathing and contempt nothing more than a hiccup as my new perception of me holds strong. I am a survivor worthy of a better life. Still I cannot help but be touched by this reminder of what I have survived and the things that MPD/DID saved me from.

Half Empty.........or Half Full

2010年04月06日T11:32:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I saw a brief snippet of a tv show with a relatively young woman stating she was a "the glass is half empty" kind of person. The woman further stated she just couldn't help it. That was just her and there was nothing she could do about it.

I remember thinking as I heard those words how stuck this woman was. I know from personal experience it is the perspective that keeps us stuck. We are only stuck because we chose to be. If we decide we want to find a way out, we indeed can.

I know this because I used to be a "the glass is half empty" kind of person. Back before therapy I couldn't see the other side of that either. Life was tough and it felt to me like it was always trying to beat me down. For the life of me I couldn't see there was another side to it. I believed just like this woman and I was stuck because of it.

I probably would have been really pissed off had someone tried to tell me I could be a " half full" kind of person only if I tried. I remember vividly believing there were no other choices for me.

It was only after intensive work that I was able to see there really was another side to this coin. Ever since that discovery there has been no looking back for me. I will never again saddle myself with the burden of "no choice" knowing how destructive that belief can be.

If I had to pick one thing in my process that was the most important to me, it would probably be learning I ALWAYS have a choice. I may not like the choices available to me and maybe not even one of them is what someone would consider a "good" choice, but being able to see that I have choices in any and all circumstances has liberated me. It has taken me from the negative world of the half empty glass to the positive one of the half full one because it IS a choice to see the glass as half empty or half full.