WordPress is either loading verrryyy slowly or not at all and it’s not easy keeping up with other people’s blogs or simply managing my own.

A mechanical problem forced me to cancel a therapy appointment. I have many questions about recent events, inside and out, and there is no one to turn to.

All this work over the past couple of years and I’m nothing more than a whiny, old bitch.

Nothing will get done if I’m a silly, stupid, scardey cat, so it’s time to just do stuff. No more over-analyzing every possible outcome of every situation. I am tired of just sitting there, waiting for something to happen and then nothing gets done. No more sitting on my ass wondering if this will hurt, this might trigger, etc.

This DID shit keeps holding me back from life. It puts my life in perspective and helps me understand myself, but it has also been limiting. That is my own fault. I get a diagnosis and I freeze. Bullshit. Everything I do lately is bullshit. I won’t sit here and let DID be my life or my excuse for life.

I don’t know how others deal with day-to-day life, but I have been afraid to do anything for fear of losing control, being triggered, or being hurt. I’m so tired and disappointed in myself for watching life drift by and not joining in.

From the novel that was my only friend, confidant, and inspiration through middle school:

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.”

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Facta non verba – Deeds not words

Sometimes the most important action you can perform is the one that says “I don’t need you”. It’s very empowering and helps release anger, frustration, and powerlessness. It’s not necessary to say it in front of the person, especially when your actions demonstrate to all around you and the person that this person no longer has any hold on you and cannot touch you or affect your life.

It just feels good. It feels even better when you don’t even have to try, or think about it, and it just comes naturally.

Save the anger for something else………like the person who washed the red shirt with the whites. Now there’s justification for anger.

 

Oh yeah!

 

There’s more to this, but I’ve never written about the abuse inflicted by my ex-husband. It was nasty.

My oldest graduated from high school today and while he was there with his wife and they did a very foolish, childish, very public display of stupidity I was okay and was able to laugh it off around them for the brief time I was near them. But enough of that silly stuff – my boy graduated! Yay!  *whew*

I think they can see me, like maybe there’s a camera that they placed somewhere in here that I haven’t found yet.

When I get dressed it has to be in a small, closed space so no one can see me. I would be horrified if I had to dress elsewhere.

Sitting in my own house with the windows open I am extremely aware of how I look, move, breathe, talk, everything because someone may be watching from outside a window.

When I walk across the yard or to the mail box I have to put one foot carefully in front of the other, put my shoulders back, and walk with purpose. I don’t know why.

I can’t type anything on the computer if someone else is in the room.

My food needs to be spaced a particular way on my plate and eaten in a certain order or I can’t eat it and my appetite will just disappear.

All the surfaces have to be clean in the house or I go nuts.

The bathroom is always meticulously clean. I don’t want any germs there.

It’s sad. I can’t navigate through this if I don’t know what the rules are.

Been here seven years and I’ve been invited to only one house party. Until last year I volunteered whenever I could, listened to people, etc., but I think I must look and act so weird that people don’t want to be around me or wish to try and find out more about me. I don’t volunteer anymore and I don’t shop local anymore. Now I drive 15 minutes to shop in a city where I’m anonymous.

Abusing a child and beating into them that they are nothing, and exist only as an experiment, an object, and less than human makes it hard to get through the day. I can’t see where I’m going, so I just keep moving and moving until I stop.

I’m so scatterbrained and feel so weird.

 

 

 

Last night I had a very graphic dream about something my mother did which was sexually abusive and as a child never understood.Then this morning I received the following email from my her:

“Dear Lisa,

I want to start by saying that I know that you are angry at us for something we have done and I want to say that what ever it was , we are sorry and we really do love you very much and pray that some day you will forgive us.

I want you to know that your dad is ill and in the hospital. I just got home from the emergency room and he is being admitted. He is diagnosed with pancreatitis and they are doing an MRI tomorrow and calling in the GI doctors and pancreatic surgeon to evaluate the MRI tomorrow. At this time we do not know what it is, but with his history of cancer we are concerned. I will let you know what is going on.

Love Mom”

After hubby and I read it two things occurred to us:

1. She wants me to confront her so she can try and be penitent so I will forgive them, and

2. She realizes that my dad may not be around for much longer and she will be alone and it’s starting to scare her, so she needs to try and connect with me (and maybe my drug-addict sister) to take care of her.

I just wanted to note that she did not give the name of a hospital, a phone number or anything. That’s what she does, though. She leaves out pertinent information to make you go to her and then makes you do things for her while she soaks up the drama.

Several years ago hubby and I knew what we would say when she comes asking for help – “We’re sure you’ll find a nice retirement home.”. It’s not our problem, it’s not our responsibility.

Thinking about my dad dying didn’t make me angry or depressed. Rather, I felt relief, hope and freedom. It just washed over and inside me. He hasn’t tried to contact me in months which is nice. If he is dying and wishes to see me I won’t go. I expect there may be phone calls from relatives, but it’s none of their business and I’m happy to tell them so.

I feel hopeful after reading other blogs and how they reacted to their father’s deaths. We’ll be okay and we’ll feel safer and that’s always a good thing.

It has been difficult finding my voice, but it was behind the couch the whole time. (c’mon…laugh…it was cute…)

Hubby and I made a decision last year about how to end contact with my parents. We chose to do it step-by-step and thus far it is working. We also knew that my parents would work very hard to regain some control over me and that it would be difficult to ride through in the short term. I told him that they would, at least through their words, play a pseudo-legal game as a threat, even if they just hint at it. And so they have already. It’s just their game, and it is only words from desperate people, and we’re handling it okay. They like to threaten (even if it’s a subtle threat) and manipulate. They’re special that way.

A few therapy sessions ago my therapist said that we could consider legal avenues if we feel it necessary and I would have her support.

So anyway…I know many people don’t agree with the way we are handling this, but we feel it is the best way at this time. We know how my parents think and so far have been ahead of their games, remained safe and in control, and have support. Those issues alone are so very important. Had we suddenly ended contact it would have created far more complicated problems. Situations are different and this is working best for our situation.

This is the email we received last weekend:

> To: “Lisa”
> Sent: Sunday, February 27, 2011 1:17:32 PM
> Subject: VISITATION RIGHTS
>
>
> As grandparents, we hereby insist that you pick a day, Saturday or Sunday, between now and March 31st, to allow us to visit with your family.  If you’re lucky, we may bring a ‘token’ for you, as a recognition of your birth.
>
> Please consider, and reply at your earliest.
>
> Dad

My response:

> April 3rd or April 10th is best for us. No need to bring a ‘token’ for anything, we’re fine.

And then:

>Hi honey,

>We will see you on April 3rd, what time is good for you? We will not bring any ‘token’, we are just bringing the birthday presents we got you, so if you do not get a card on your birthday, please do not think we forgot. We would not forget your birthday Let us know a good time.>Love you, Mom

I don’t acknowledge my parent’s birthdays and my mom recently had one. That’s what her condescending little jab is about. The subject “VISITATION RIGHTS” is a pseudo-legal threat from them. Writing the words out is supposed to slip into my subconscious and bend me to their will. I’m serious. That’s how they think. As if they’re spies or something.

My therapist agrees with our approach and the way I am keeping boundaries and control.

An important realization over the past week is the fact that my parents gaslighted me. By constantly telling me, as well as family and friends, I am a liar and a faker and threatening me besides made it impossible to accept the belief in my own existence. If what I went through happened, and yet I’m being barraged with “You’re always making things up.”, “You never tell the truth.”, “No one can ever trust what you say.”, “Stop faking it. You’re not really hurt.”, it’s no surprise I can’t tell what is real. One incident in particular stands out. My parents took the day off work to meet with my 2nd grade teacher and tell her how I constantly lie, so anything I may have told her is unbelieveable. I don’t remember what I told my teacher, just the meeting. Accepting this truth also brought with it sensations of being choked and dry heaves. No anxiety though, and only a single thought of self-harming.

No one else in my life has not believed me or told me to shut up and stop lying. No one else has questioned what I believed happened in any circumstance. My parents constantly played these head games to the point where I question my own exsitence.

It is such a relief to understand this. I feel like “Yay! I’m not totally nuts, just broken!”. Broken I think I can work with. Being insane means “Why bother?” to me.

For the most part, life sucks, but it’s workable. I’m not in my happy space yet and these understandings and other crap are extremely tiring. I don’t know if this is a good post, but I am curious if anyone else went through something similar with their parents. I am also very nervous about what the next phase of healing will be like. Today I feel like I took a big step forward and banished some of my negative ways of thinking. Ways of thinking that were not even mine to begin with.