Nov_Silence's Story-1 - I Wanted To Be Loved, Not Tortured

[nov_silence]

Michael hurt us bad in the bad place. We tried to be good but we couldn't be. Mommy didn't love us because we were bad. Little girls should be dead....

These are the words of the chant I have said over and over since I was a little girl. Sometimes, like this morning, I wake up whispering them to myself.

All I wanted when I was little was to be loved. To be seen as good in the eyes of adults, especially my mother. Mistakes were unforgiveable, tallied and paid in full. Leather, bare hands, objects within hand reach, running rope, branches from apple trees, cords, knives, brooms, toliet plungers... so many tools that were used to hurt, punish, break. I really thought my parents didn't love me. As I type this, I look at my crooked fingers from the blows I tried block with my hands.

I was sexually abused by a teacher's son for over a year from the second grade thru most of the third grade. It started with hide-and-seek. I felt so proud that he wanted to hide with me... He being six years older than me, I felt grown up to be his hiding partner. We hid in my bedroom closet. I remember sitting on the floor and him reaching over and unzipping my pants. Fear hit my stomach. I asked him what he was doing. He began to touch me. I felt frozen, confused, so very confused. I remember looking in the corner of the closet as he touched me... staring at my white church shoes. His sister opened the door and saw me with my pants down. In shame, I pulled them on and he told her not to tell. He told me not to tell. There was such defeat in her eyes, such weight. I didn't know at the time that he was abusing her as well.

It happened everywhere: the school library, the staircase, his father's car while his dad drove, abandoned buildings, the shower, the basement in the dark, the fake leather couch down stairs, in the woods.

Michael hurt us bad. Michael doesn't love us. I am a bad little girl. Little girls deserved to be hurt bad in the bad place bc we were dirty. Dirty little girls deserve to be hurt. Michael hurt. If I was a good little girl it wouldn't have happened, but I was bad...

I will share more later. Triggered...

[anthony]

Well done Antoinette, please keep this going.

[nov_silence]

I struggle with the little girl within. For so long I worked to punish her, even kill her. I wanted her and her experiences to be seperate from mine. I wanted to exorcise her like some night-demon that deserved worse than death for "what she did" and what she wanted.

A part of me "chose" to seek out Michael's attentions bc it was the closest to love I felt ever at that point in my life. I craved attention. And he gave it to me. I felt special. The abuse came to an end when I drew a picture for my third grade teacher. At that point, Michael wouldn't leave me alone... or I should say my body. It was like my body wasn't mine anymore. It had become this thing that he did with what he wanted, when he wanted, how much, however hurtful.

When he tried to rape me, I knew something that to change. I felt that immediate sense of danger... that if the abuse didn't stop, I would be emotionally taken to a place way way way out of my grasp. If that makes any sense.

My teacher had a conference with Michael's parents (both worked at the school I had attended... we met them in the first place bc his mother was impressed with my intellect and curiosity... our families became fast friends), my parents and the principal. Mrs. Ford, my teacher, had met with me for several mornings and taped what I had shared with her. Details of the abuse and my feelings of fear. I will never forget that look of confusion and question in my mother's eyes are they walked to the meeting. I wasn't there.... I felt bad that they were going to find out my dirty little secret... but I just couldn't handle it alone anymore.

My grandfather, mother's dad, was visiting us at the time. He picked me up from school. He talked about loose women back in Trinidad (where my parents are from) what made them that way. I remember feeling ashamed. Like I had done something wrong... and I would never be right again.

That night, my parents had his parents, Michael and his sister Tia over to our house. Again, I wasn't at the meeting. I later found out that my mother had wanted to press charges, but my dad and Michael's mother pleaded with her not to do so. They were afraid of the community back lash. So my mother consented to not having any contact with his family, not in private or public circumstances and Michael was to never speak to me or approach me.

The next morning, my mother told me that Michael said that I had enjoyed the abuse. I told her no. I knew enough to lie and say that I didn't bc there would be no understanding or redemption.

After that the abuse wasn't mentioned... not to me. My parents openly talked about it to my aunt Marva... in front of me. I remember standing in the kitchen feeling paralyzed by the conversation, so embarressed... feeling invisible. I remember finally being abe to move and leaving the room without saying anything or looking at anyone.

Years later when I was a silly boy crazy kid in middle school, and my mother had found a letter a friend had written to one of my guy friends... she called me a whore. "Maybe Mrs. Brown was right, that you seduced Michael." I WAS STUNNED. I will never ever forget that day. I still see the dim light in the kitchen.. the way it hit the wallpaper, her stance near the bird cage. The disgust in her voice. When I think of it, I want to hurt myself, to mask some of the pain.

My parents beat the shit out of me through out my childhood... my mother was constantly hitting for something, anything. Then her father gave her the grand idea of letting my "wrongs" Pile up. Meaning, after I had committed a certain number of wrongs, I would get a resounding beating. Sometimes my mother would have my dad do it. Sometimes she would start (she sometimes tired very easily...sometimes she would start and then take a break) and my dad would finish hours later when he got home in the evening. I spent so much of my elementary and middle school years in constant fear.... terrified to do something wrong. Believing more and more that they would kill me someday. There have been many times when I wish they had.

By the seventh grade, I hated myself. I was one of those kids in school teachers hate. I was constantly forgetful. Daydreamer, left books and homework at home constantly. Forget to study for tests or do major projects. I spent most of my waking hours (and some hours when I should have been asleep) reading... immersing myself in the story, so much so I would cry when I would finish certain books... bc the close of the cover meant that I was left to be present in my world. I resented the lonliness. I started having flashbacks and nightmares about Michael coming to rape and kill me.

After failing another test, I decided to kill myself. My mother had warned me that the next test I failed, I would be beaten to a pulp. Up to that point, my parents' beatings were unforgettable. [ The most memorable being in 5th grade when my middle finger was broken by the rods my dad used to beat me. Several other of my fingers were bruised. They are crooked to this day and have started to give my problems.] I was so scared to come home. I felt like I couldn't face another beating. So, I took a bunch of pills. I did get very dizzy and my heart was racing... I got so scared I woke up my mom. I remember her crying "my baby, my first born." I was shocked that she was so upset. I lied to the doctor telling him that I had only taken a few pills.... he sent me home. My mother later scolded me for just wanting to get attention when she saw my test (I altered the grade so she would sign it). I was convinced that she didn't love me.

[anthony]

Antoinette, can you please tell me on a scale of 1 - 10, where your self esteem lay please? In other words, how much praise do you give yourself, and how easily is anothers words accepted by you as hurting?

How old where you at the time of the sexual abuse?

When did the beating from your parents begin? Was it after the shit hit the fan in regard to the abuse?

[nov_silence]

My self-esteem.... around a 6 I think. But it can drop really quickly (when I make a mistake. I HATE making mistakes. Sometimes on my new job I catch myself saying that I woud rather be dead than make a mistake... and I feel the anxiety of a beating hanging over my head. I have even taken a strap to myself in the past).

In terms of praise, I really don't. I have really high expectations and fierce demans on myself. They have gotten better esp since I am not counseling anymore (for a career). My boss is really impressed with me and it feels good to hear positive things... but I just take it in stride... and then fight the nagging voice that says," enjoy the praise now. You are still new... wait until you make a mistake... how great to you think they will think you are then.... just wait." Just even typing the words my heart is racing and a part of me wants to escape.

When I am hurting very little positive gets through.. when the positive gets through it's bc I let me myself just take it in and not think about it. I punish myself worse than anyone could at this point in my life... psychologically.

I get wounded easily. Not as easily as a few years ago. But things cut deep and settle there for a while... even if I pretend that things are fine and tell myself I am okay, it still hurts long after. I am very very sensitive to "criticism... even though I expect criticism more than praise or me having done a good enough job." I tend to feel lost if my husband and I have a falling out or his mood is off.... and I feel apart from him emotionally.

I was around late 6 early 7 yrs old when the sexual abuse started. And lasted for about a year. The beatings were always there. Earliest I can remember is 3 yrs old. Belt, slippers, leather jumping ropes, extension cords, wooden switches, broom handles. Beatings were at it's peak in middle school between grade 5 and 7. And the length and severity depended on the wrong I did (or perceived wrong), parent and what shit was going on the individual's life.

[anthony]

Antoinette, there is more than meets the eye going on here. If your parents started beating you early in life, then chances are this is what started PTSD, hence why you were then looking for attention as such, being that you thought Michael wanting to hide with you was great, being he that much older than you, up until the abuse obviously started. The beatings from your parents have more to do with your PTSD than just the sexual abuse I believe. When you describe above about the sexual abuse, you also have now outlined that you where being beaten beforehand, and after the abuse all surfaced.

Regardless what you did, your parents would beat you. What can you tell me about your parents Antoinette? What did they do for employment when you where little? What do you know, if any, of their lives as children, their parents and raising?

[nov_silence]

You are right, Anthony. This past year when I was in an outpatient PTSD program, I learned that my PTSD stemms from my parents... and the sexual abuse was the icing on the cake. That really rocked my world to learn... but I know that it is true... esp from my mom.

I will share more later must catch the bus to work!

[nov_silence]

Since I was always afraid of my parents, I looked to make others happy and happy with me. Any kind attention people gave me I drank in. To get attention without being negative was a gift each and ever time. I was starving for feeling loved and being good.... since I questioned if my parents really loved me and if I got do anything right in their eyes. Michael's attention was welcomed (to a certain degree)until he got violent. I figured it was a decent trade off for "love:" pain for attention. A part of me still operates this way.

My parents... are from Trinidad and raised me in the West Indian tradition: spare the rod spoil the child. Excel in school, always do your best, let know one make you feel less than. So the three qualities I just mentioned sound like good things parents would want for their kids... but it is the way in which these qualities were beaten into my head. When I think about it, the way they raised me was counterproductive: I didn't excel in school (in middle school mostly) bc I believed I was stupid and couldn't do anything right thus I couldn't do my best (which equaled perfection in my house growing up- my mother admits that she wanted me to be perfect) and I thought I wasn't worth much (esp in their eyes) and thus felt less than in relation to everyone.

My parents are both educators. My mother had been at 24... went to school full time and worked full time. She taught computer programming and math both in middle and high schools. It seemed like any and everything she did turned into instant success, gold. She was the 5th of 9 children. Her father beat the crackers of his kids, beat my grandmother and had many many affairs. He was a kingpin in his community. Well-to-family, respected highly in the community. He settled for nothing less than doing his best at his job and taught his children to do the same. My mother was the apple of my grandfather's eye. His self in female form. Then my mother f'd things up by marrying my dad (as at least that's how my grandfather saw it). My dad is from a history of poor, uneducated people who are violent, evil (using black magic, voodo, etc) and bent on bringing about the demise of others. Both of his parents cheated on each other. My grandfather begged my mom not to marry my dad, since he felt nothing positive could come from such a union. Trinidad is a class-based society. My mother was upper and my dad was lower.

So their marriage was fraught with tension. My dad eventually came to resent my mother. He was jealous that things seemed to come easy to and for her... my mother worked her ass off. One of my earliest memories as a child was when my mother had packed to leave. They were yelling... I stood in the middle of them, looking at both of them (I must have been 2 or 3). Then suddenly they looked down at me. My mother unpacked.... I rarely thought of my parents as a happy couple. I didn't understand how they worked together... such opposities. My father abruptly left my mother about 5 years ago and called to tell us that he wasn't coming back. I was 23 at the time.

By the end of their relationship both of my parenta worked in the correctional system. My mother runs the equiv of a computer and business managment program for incarcerated women (so they have job skills when they leave) and my dad worked in juvee teaching middle and high school males as well as the GED program. My dad is now a middle school teacher.

I am aware of that fact that my parents raised me as they had been raised. My mother realizes, to a certain degree, that she didn't do right by me. I haven't spoken to my father in several years. Last time I saw him was at my wedding in 2002. He called me several weeks ago, and I listened to his message but did not return his phone call. I don't know what to say to him. I don't know how I feel about him. But a part of me does miss him.

[anthony]

Yep, about what I expected to hear actually, your parents simply carrying on their upbringing upon you. That is usually the case until someone breaks the chain and moves in a different direction, love rather than pain. Whilst your sexual abuse as we both agree, being the icing on the PTSD cake as such, I think even more stemmed from your beatings after the fact, being you felt as though your parents were now punishing you for telling them about the abuse from Michael. That would make everything just that much worse nearly than the abuse itself. Do the right thing and report abuse, get punished and beaten for doing it, then told rubbish like "you deserved it" and phrases to that effect, or even "you wanted it." These are the typical type phrases that come from people afterwards, when things are known. Not exactly the moral boosting self esteem words any person needs to listen, let alone said enough to believe, need or want.

Antoinette, the pain you are suffering as a result of your parents, is merely them attempting to shift some of their pain upon you from their upbringing. It works, hence why people continue the cycle, though it never really heals the pain to begin with. People simply become angry, and hide all their emotions and feelings behind anger, often which they simply forget how to feel and only show anger, hatred and rage.

Whilst your self esteem is ok when things are going good for you, but lowers the moment you do something wrong, that means I would actually put your self esteem around a 3 - 4, not a 6. Why? Because self esteem overall is about the positives and negatives, its about how much confidence you truly have within yourself, its about how you function and react during both good and bad times. If your self esteem was a constant 6, then when you made a mistake it wouldn't lower at all, you would simply accept that you made a mistake, learn from it, and continue on. The reason you would do that, is because you would believe the facts, being that your only human and only capable of so much. You do your best and that is all you can give. You cannot give something that you do not have in anothers eyes. If what you give is not good enough for another, then it is the other that is asking too much from you, not you failing to achieve as such, in relation to self esteem. Self esteem really is about confidence, and that confidence is prominent when your an assertive person. I don't see this within you yet, because there are too many unknowns, however; you know yourself better than I know you, so you could tell me if I'm saying more realistic and factual aspects your self perception or not!

How is your relationship with your Mother now Antoinette?

Now your father is interesting. You hate him, but love him. That is about right from someone who has been abused. Some people say they just hate a parent or sibling as an abuser, then if that abuser dies, they then feel guilty for never talking with them, or asking them for some sort off resolution whilst alive. I think your feelings are very accurate, in that because blood is thicker than water, and even when abuse stems from family, you still have a genetic tie too them, which makes it a love hate relationship. You love them because you have had good memories with them, you hate them for the bad things they have done and the end result you now live with. Its a delicate balance.

Honestly though, nobody can tell you which way you should feel in relation to your parents, abuser or another in general. This is something that to help you with your decision to contact him or forget him, is really about looking at the emotional facts and reasoning. If you have a pain inside you that wants to contact him, then often that is the right thing to do. If you have a pain inside you that wants answers, then often that is the right thing to do, being go ask them from the person themselves. Often people either don't have the chance to ask an abuser, family or not, or they leave it too late until death or something else has occured, then they add guilt to their list of feelings because they never acted.

I would encourage you to do what your heart tells you to do. This way, you will find out for yourself whether to move to love or hate, lessen or more one to out favour the other from the conversation you have with them.

Lets look at things realistically. Regardless of the bad things we do, people can and do change. Just look at all off us here who have done bad things in our lives, though we learnt from them and used them as experience to learning how to become better within ourselves. Some people just don't learn, hence it makes a decision easier when talking with them, ie. "they haven't changed and I don't see it happening anytime soon." Simple open and shut case emotionally for us. It helps us heal to know though which way to feel, opposed to being internally emotionally tossed about between love and hate.

I think this is something you need to think about, and discuss with your parents to how your past is going to make you feel with them into your future.

[nov_silence]

I don't know how to describe my relationship with my mother. I don't know how to feel about her.

[anthony]

Antoinette, use http://www.ptsdforum.org/thread700.html to help you find what you feel about your mother, then what you do is write them something like:

I feel frustrated that she....
I feel hurt that she treated me...
etc etc

What this does, is it helps you find all your feelings towards one part of your trauma. What you do with this, is you apply it to every part of your trauma, thus helping you come to terms at the emotional level in regard to every aspect of trauma in your life, how you feel about those involved, and so forth. Our emotions are what causes us to feel anger. By coming to terms, analyzing and reasoning with our emotions, we help to stop feeding PTSD itself.

[nov_silence]

Thanks Anthony,

I will consider this my next project! :)

Taking deep breaths....

[anthony]

Excellent. I know also the anxiety caused, as I too have done this. Take it easy, take your time, and look at everything you can think off. The rest will come too you as we discuss things more. Its amazing how when the mind is intentionally provoked, more pieces of the puzzle come flooding back from the deep, that we thought were lost forever. Be kind to yourself during, and give yourself plenty of breaks. There is no time limit... no rush... this is your pace only.

[nov_silence]

A part of me is tired of thinking about stuff. It seems challengint enough to get through the day, an hour and a half bus ride home and then think about dinner or eating dinner... and then I collapse into sleep. I am working hard on my cognitions though. Trying not to take anything personally and doing my best... realizing that my best is different at different times. I am doing better than just maintaining... I looked at that list that you posted, Anthony and I felt daunted by the list. I scrolled through it several times realizing that I have felt and continue to feel so many of those things.. but have a hard time finding words to them. I realize that is easier to just go through my day if there are not triggers... to try and evoke thoughts, memories, feelings. I admit to feeling like, "why should I bother posting?" Esp since I don't have anything extraordinary to post. Maybe I am finding some level of refuge in being numb.

[anthony]

No... your just trying to maintain denial as long as you possibly can. Denial is a wonderful thing, but unfortunately it doesn't last forever. At the end of that list, is a one page printable version, which I would recommend you use instead.

The thing is, is that you have to be ready to heal. It has nothing to do with me. I cannot force you, I cannot make you, I cannot get you to look at something you do not want to look at, I cannot guide you if you don't want to be guided, I cannot help you if you are not ready to be helped.

It doesn't really matter which way you go Antoinette, because it is your decision. If your not ready to move forward at this time, then don't. You will know within yourself when you are, and you will know if you have too because your PTSD drops you on your backside... and it will, but you must walk the path in order to get the most from healing.

Either way, I am here for you, as are all members, when your ready. If your comfortable just discussing things in posts throughout the forum, then that is what I back you to do... if you don't want to post anything, then I still back your decision. The end of the day Antoinette, all decisions are yours, and yours alone, and regardless which one's you make, I accept them as being the best decision for you at the time, because it is what your most comfortable with.

[nov_silence]

At my gut level, I felt like reacting to your post, Anthony... not responding. There is a difference, I understand.

I have done alot of work to get to a point where I can narrow things down to my mom's treatment of me as the "source of my PTSD." In the past three years especially I busted my emotional and physical ass to get to this point. Perhaps I shouldn't care what you guys may think about where my healing process is (and we all know that healing isn't linear, A doesn't always link up neatly to B).... I am not the same person I was three years ago, a year ago, three months ago.... And I am proud of the steps I have taken. I know that I have plenty more to take. I have healed in ways that I never thought I would. I didn't even think I would live this long. And I am not just "getting through each day." I actually feel happy during the day (deep down, not some happy sunshin BS that I psych myself into). Starting to thrive not just survive.

I am not closed to being helped or guided. I am not going to feel guilty bc I can't work through a list... but I can read a book that talks about severe abuse (A Boy Called It) and work through not self-harming and sitting with my feelings. I am having a hard time putting words to feelings that are hard to access right now. I wrote the previous post on a day when I felt really frustrated that I couldn't access emotions in relation to my mother.

Anthony, I appreciate the time you take to read posts and comment especially when you have so much going on right now...

[anthony]

Antoinette, you really answered everything I was poking for from within you. Thank you. Ok, so you are working hard with yourself, which is some excellent work on your behalf. I am glad you didn't react to the post, though I was expecting it. Why? I make no secret to intentionally poke at peoples core in order to get them thinking, get their frustrations out, get things out of them that they often don't post when thinking clearly. I guess we often let things slip when frustrated, hence the idea of poking you a bit to see what comes.

Now what I see from above, is your strength and character shineing through Antoinette, lets use that to the best of your ability. Your healing already, your making active changes in your life by yourself, and that is the hardest part to get people at, being to help themselves. Your already doing it, and that alone is excellent and an achievement by itself. You self esteem is obviously good, because you don't care about others opinions, which I got from your above. Confidence is good, another needed asset.

Antoinette, I guess the time has come to really reason out your mums treatment off you. Why did she treat you this way? Abuse from her parents, continueing the cycle, etc. Reasoning, understanding, acceptance of the good and bad.

What you have shown me Antoinette, is exactly what I constantly hope to see, someone who has healed to a point, strong within themselves and ready to fight the rest of the demons. So lets fight them ha!

[nov_silence]

I stayed up reading last night. Got triggered several times. And feel safer now that the sun has come up. The Sin is rising. And all the angels in their heavenly hosts shunned their eyes to the sorrow. I am tired of spilling blood that was spilled so many times before. I am tired of torturing my soul with thoughts of death and self-damnation. I am tired of trying to regurgitate years of keys lost, diaries defiled, doorknobs of closets that wouldn't closed-closed to often, the darkness I have surrounded myself in, the numb, the silence, the fear I wrapped myself in to keep safe from the demons in my ****, my fingers, my mind, bile-ridden scars on my left-hand, yes only on my left hand, tired of the ache in wrists longing to bang out truth, only to cramp up wailing out: DENIAL, DENAIL$#)#)0
!@#$&, DeNial, tired of mornings when i wish the sun would never give rise to another day, tired of wishing I was never born, tired of the sobbing little girl inside who so wants to be loved, but is terrified of being loved, believes that she can't be loved, that believes in moments of brief reprieve that death only could be better, that mommy didn't love her, that daddy forget her and the sullied begotten sadness that weighs so woefully heavily between and in and out to, so tired of sugered sweet dreams of razors and trips not taken, freedom yet spoken, a childhood denied. Denied DENIED. DeNied. That died three generations before her. What to and where from to go at and who will the fare. The weight of the burden of the corpse buried so far below her inside that place she hated but covets. Heart breaks brittled with fear. I am tired. I am done. I am done.

One grain of sand to tread on. For each tear. One year in remembrance of cross hunned out of old wood throw up ahsore after a storm five years ago, ten years before she met love for the first time in his hand. His hand, his Love, his kind eyes shinning. Acceptance, faith - Redemption was cruel at 19.

I love my mother, I love my father. I hate the things they have done. And their ignorance is vile and ****s my fear until nothing is left except me alone standing here. Broken fingers, promises more, I tried to be good. Tried so hard to be good. To be loved, to be worth. To be.

I hate what Michael did. Though I feel a debt unpaid. Was it my fault? That I wanted fear, denied it. The pressure, the feeling, the desire built up in a six-year old girl who wanted to be loved. So bad, so hard, so cut too deep. I would have paid any price to be loved.

I hate the teachers who laughed, feared those who cared and can only dream of them in thankful sleep. Waiting for them to die to take them with me. My truth. Feeble voiced recordings of the truth. Missing tracks on a scratched-out record skipping, skipping. No refrain.

The things I don't remember, the yells and screamings, curses, and scheming craved out with bitterness on my my black skin. Across fake leatherette couches, spit blood semen, poor subsitutes for the real thing: marriage, love acceptance. And now that I have it, standing in the midst of such gifts, hunned out of only love, I stand aghast at such beauty only to step away,

I am not lost, just much older and younger and wiser. So ****ing tired of all the things I have done. The crimes I committ in honor of their anger. And forgivess is a high colored bird.

[nov_silence]

My mother's treatment of me:

She raised me out of fear. In the past, I had thought my mother a brave fearless person who would cut down God if she had to. Perhaps blasphemous to say... But it turns out that her life was full of fear and perhaps some insecurity. How human, to me, she has become!

So thanks to her fear, I am not like "just like" either of my parents. I am a composite of both. How par for the course.

Thinking about this makes my head feel like someone has placed it in a vise and is slowly tighting it... turn turn turn goes the handle....

I get, to a certain degree, why she raised me the way she did. But it (thre treatment) still hurts. Depending on the day I have had or how tired I am, I am triggered by mothers screaming at their kids, kids crying or yelling, "No." (I have had to call the cops on the couple downstairs). I am triggered by seeing someone being hit in a movie or on TV. I feel the impact of the hit, the lash of the belt, the fear, the "oh no, how am I going to survive this." It's times like those, when the soul flinches, that I feelings of fear, hate and resentment come flodding back. I hate the feeling of vulnerability that I feel when I am triggered... something reminds me. '

When I was at my mother's house for Turkey Break: her laugh, the loud way she calls out my name, a sudden movement, her touching my face and my flinching every so slightly, hearing her stories told in vivid boastful tones, the sound of her heavy footsteps corresponding with me holding my breath (when I was younger, I would listen for her footsteps to determine where she was in the house so she could not sneek up on me... or how heavy her steps were would signal if she was angry), the casual non-insightful way she treats her dogs (how she treats them is more about her than their needs - makes me so bloody angry!!!!!!!) - all these things set my teeth on edge. Just thinking about it makes me very agitated.

I guess I don't have acceptance. Acceptance of what? I guess I haven't forgiven her. Forgiven her for what? Which part? Her? The actions? I pity her. Her personal suffering disgusts me, frustrates me, and I have been wanting it to disappear for years.

I was chatting with my sister online and she told me that I won't learn how to "deal" with my mom by avoiding her... I know she is right.

Tension headache, ho!

[anthony]

I also like your sisters thought on this. You see, when abuse is from another human, especially family, we have a unique chance as an adult to start on them, in order for them to justify to us why they did what they did. It allows us as adults to be in charge, and no longer have to comply to their methods. It gives us as an adult a chance to find the answers so we can forgive ourselves, regardless whether we forgive them or not, but ourselves is the important part in order for us to continue living a more prosperous life.

[nov_silence]

Ah forgiving myself. When I chant, I now realize that it doesn't matter how good I tried to be as a kid, as hard as I tried to be loved, the results where always the same: "you are not good enough. You are a mother's nightmare (yes my mother told me this)" I feel myself hanging on to the belief that I will never be good enough... but that old truth rings so hollow now... and I am left feeling confused about what to believe. Outside of my parents and the sexual abuse, logically, I get it: I see the colors and all there distinctive hues and variations. And a part of my spirit knows them so well... but then there is the lingering fear, heavily overshadowed by the things I have experienced. And I realize how much pain there is left. As much as I want to walk away from it and call it "I am healed, I am now okay" when it's really "I'm tired of this shit, I want different, but differnt seems so bloody hard, contradictory to everything I was taught, my way of life for so long, but f*** it, I will do better/right by myself" I am not sure what I want... well that's not true. I want a deeper level of peace; I know that it comes with mindfulness, sitting with mara (fear), and forgiveness. I guess forgiveness is going to take more time than I thought.

Anthony, you made a strong point... forgiving myself allows me to truly live, to thrive... as I have survived for a long time. Here are the things I could forgive myself:

1. Enjoying the touch of the boy who molested me.
2. Seeking out his touch
3. Missing his touch after the abuse ended
4. Wishing that he had raped me (taken it all)
5. Not to feel ashamed of sexual pleasure
6. Forgive myself/the little girl for 1-5
7. For punishing the little girl for 1-5
8. For not being able to meet my mother's impossible standards
9. For having pre-marital sex with my now husband
10. For hating my mother
11. For hating my father
12. For wishing my mother would die
13. For compulsive masterbation when I get scared sexually, when I don't do a "good enough job", when I want to punish the little girl for the "bad things she did"
14. For allowing myself to become my own abuser (to take up where my abusers left off)

Cognitive realizations
1. I wasn't a bad little girl
2. I was academically capable, but too traumatized to do my best
3. That regardless of whatever feelings Michael (molester) had for me, it was still wrong, it was still abuse, and it wasn't my fault
4. I was/am a sexual being and by body responded in kind during the abuse
5. I have a right to my feelings
6. I am in charge of my life, not my fears, not anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will think more about this and write more later.

[anthony]

Antoinette, you have kind off left me lost for words. Ok... basically, so proud of you for discovering and looking at your inner fears. That is what you did, you looked at those deepest, darkest inner fears (emotions) and pulled them apart to find what you can forgive yourself truly for. We so often take far to much upon ourselves, which is realistically anothers guilt, anothers fear, not our own. Why do we burden their emotions upon ourselves? Often a constant wearing of self esteem and confidence will do the trick. When you have suffered enough, been worn down so much, we just believe it is all us, even though we are the victims, the innocent end of trauma. Yes, there are some that are not, such as myself with military. No veteran can say they didn't ask for trauma, because they did the moment they signed on the dotted line, we just didn't understand it at that time, no big warning label "signing here may give you trauma, which could give you PTSD." Cases like yourself though, where you had no active part, no say, no free acknowledgement to the act, not a chance in hell should people with this type of trauma continue fighting themselves with guilt, guilt that is not theirs to burden.

So, so proud of you Antoinette... very well done, and congratulations for really going into yourself and pulling the inner self apart. Forgiveness within ourselves, whether right or wrong, atleast allows us to move forward in life, instead of ourselves holding us back from burdened guilt, remorse and others problems. Big hugs your way.

[nov_silence]

Thanks Anthony. You have no idea how much your words mean!

[nov_silence]

I hate talking about sex. It's still so loaded for me. I used it as a weapon for soooo long. I used it to "remind" myself how dirty I was, so unloveable. So worth of pain. To be hurt, for things to be emotionally and physically taken from me. Preferably by force. I still reckon with the craving... to be manipulated, abused, used as long as I am getting attention. As long as I feel like I am serving a purpose of some kind.

After years of using my sexuality to punish the child who was hurt, I have begun to let the punishment and guilt go. The guilt of having a sexual drive, of being a sexual being. I still feel dirty writing about this = where logic and emotion and old patterns do not connect AT ALL.

I have grown from a girl afraid of her sexuality to a woman afraid of her sexuality. After working so hard to use it hurt myself, I am making peace with it. Experiencing it more deeply, letting the fear give way to healthy emotions, experiences, connections. And I feel like I am betraying a part of myself: that I swore to the little girl I would keep safe. That no one would touch those places (figurately) inside... and give opportunity to hurt us again. Well, my husband doesn't hurt me. I trust him and myself more... I trust the fear less... So now I am afraid that the overtly sexual child will resurface anew... Especially since my husband's sex drive is hit or miss: depression, PTSD, lack of sleep all rolled up in one. I feel dirty for wanting sex. I end up feeling like the bad little girl who missed the touch of her abuser. It brings up urges to drink on a daily basis, drink in the morning, to start cutting again , or throwing up (I used to be bulimic); none of which I have done.

Time for a ciggie.

[anthony]

Antoinette, sex is a purely natural want from our body and mind. Whilst you feel that sex is directly connected to your past, it is actually much more than that, and that is what you must see for yourself. You see, our mind naturally craves attention, that loveing touch, sex itself. There is nothing wrong with wanting that, because its a natural component of us. Where I see the issue, is that you must accept that this is a natural component of our mind. This is why so many people who have been sexually abused try and remove sex from their life, because they feel that whilst being abused, a part of their mind enjoyed the sexual experience itself. Whilst that is normal, what those who have been sexually abused must do, is seperate that it is the act of the person themselves performing the natural minds want of sex that is the traumatic component, not the sex itself. If you replaced the abuser with someone you loved, and wanted to touch you and enjoy a sexual experience with, then your mind would not interpret trauma with that act. The abuser themselves and the act of natural craving they performed upon you is the trauma component itself. They used something that our mind naturally craves against you. A small component of your mind took that natural craving and enjoyed that aspect, but the act of force itself, the person and your will to fight that abuse is the traumatic aspect. To seperate what we feel enjoyable to the force, the person and the circumstance is a key to not feeling that dirty sense.

You see, we all crave sex, because its natural. Sex is a good stressor, and when you use our internal stress model, a small component of rape is a good stressor, but the overwhelming aspect is bad, being the force, the will of this person going against your wishes, the act itself, but sex with a person who is not forcing themself upon you, someone you want to be loved truly by, are in love with or have a feeling of attraction, is all good stress, not good and bad.

You see, during the end of Kerrie's pregnancy, I didn't want to have sex. Why? Well, it was this model that I had to come back too. Sex is a good stressor for us, as its a good emotion itself. The problem with myself though at the time, was that the conflicts between her and logan, the prospect off calebs arrival into this world, the unknown, were bad stressors within me, so I didn't have enough room to cope with any more because whilst sex is a good stressor, I had some bad stressors directly related to issues that Kerrie was involved. This means, sex would have contained a mix off good and bad stressors for me. Until this was resolved, it just wasn't going to occur. I thought the most of it had been resolved, so we had sex again, and it was a good stressor for me, and as such, removed other bad stressor as a result. When problems stemmed again, the sex issue is back on a revolving cycle.

The mix of a good (sex) and bad (force, rape - insert negative emotion) is the problem, and that is what must be isolated in order to understand the sexual experience is good, thus that component is not dirty, but healthy. Its just those bad components that we must isolate and deal with. In your case, it was forced, it was not willing, and that is what you must learn to seperate in order to not feel dirty about something that is natural within itself. There is nothing wrong with craving what the mind wants, and needs, because its healthy for us. Because you crave sex, does not mean you crave the force or other negative acts that are associated. It happened too you, thus because you feel that good component, you feel that the good component is attached to the bad, when in fact you can isolate them as good and bad. See what I'm getting at?

[nov_silence]

All I want to do is chant and hurt myself when I read your post. Not that it's about fault... it's just triggering. Causing me to think about the things that hurt. Still conflicted about having wanted attention, some form of love... even if it involved pain. This weekend, I mourned the fact that I was born. It's takes energy to come "back up" from those thoughts. Tired, but can't sleep.

[nov_silence]

I have to admit to myself that I lied to mother: I don't forgive her. I just wanted to be done with it. And maybe I have some resoultion, maybe I don't. I am confused about where I am with it. So I just settle with bitterness and continue to punish her with my silence bc I don't know what else to do. Hence my feelings of wishing she would die and I wouldn't have to feel obligated anymore.

[anthony]

Antoinette, I would love to see you do a mental imagery interview actually, and see what can be found to help you put your finger on the emotional buttons that disturb you most... all of them that is that cause present pain.

[nov_silence]

I feel really conflicted about sharing stuff. I am exhausted and wish I could stay at home all day, smoke and sleep. I don't like myself very much right now.

[No-Twitch-Tabitha]

Wowsa...

Experiences in common...the sexual abuse (only I tried to avoid my tormentors), parents' marriage frought with tension (and they hated each other)...wanting to punish my little girl on the inside...my mother put the Fear of Her in me...

I have a question: How do you feel about other women, given your experience with your mother? I find that I do not do well with other women on an emotional level. At all. I have found myself hating my own sex and the fact that I am a woman.

[nov_silence]

I don't really trust women. Esp black women (I am black). I tend to roll my eyes when women get emotional and I see that they get bent out of shape over as frivilous (ATT'N: NOT ANYONE HERE!!!!!!). I used to pride myself on not being emotional and wanting to be teflon strong, un-hurtable. I had worked so hard at not being the typical girl- now I have issue with feeling feelings and knowing which ones (and to what extent) they are "okay." I have always had good guys friends and feel more at ease around them than women... has been true for me since middle school.

[anthony]

Antoinette, why black women, and not all women?

Now its funny that you used to pride yourself on being so emotionally numb. What about now? Do you believe this has done you favours?

A person doesn't need to be an emotional basket case, ie. over emotional, which many women are, some men even, but there are times when we must release our emotions for our own well being, and it is knowing these times it is more than acceptable to do so, regardless what society, peer groups or others around us think. If keeping things in isn't working for us at present, then the obvious solution is to get it all out. This doesn't mean we must walk around constantly crying, or being emotional wrecks, but merely we must take time and space to release all our negativity, enforce it with positives instead. I used to think I was a rock because I showed no emotion, and well, it didn't do me any favours to say the least. I am still not the most emotional person in the world, but I can discuss them, I can exert what I feel now, I can understand what others feel, but I certainly don't walk around crying and sobbing all the time, as that is the person I am. I accept who I am, not someone that others may want me to be, or someone that my peer group wants me to me. I am myself, and that I am happy with. This is what its all about, us... how we treat ourselves, how we feel about ourselves, honesty. If we aren't honest with ourselves, then how the hell do we expect to be honest with others in terms of our emotions?

[No-Twitch-Tabitha]

I don't really trust women. Esp black women (I am black). I tend to roll my eyes when women get emotional and I see that they get bent out of shape over as frivilous (ATT'N: NOT ANYONE HERE!!!!!!). I used to pride myself on not being emotional and wanting to be teflon strong, un-hurtable. I had worked so hard at not being the typical girl- now I have issue with feeling feelings and knowing which ones (and to what extent) they are "okay." I have always had good guys friends and feel more at ease around them than women... has been true for me since middle school.

So am I, but my problem has been with all women. I usually feel uncomfortable when I see other women expressing emotion. I tend to wonder more what's behind it. I also feel a little jealous. Ha! I who claim I don't feel jealous. I guess not about things.

My main problem with women is trust. You know, confiding something in someone and the next thing you know...it's all over the place.

[nov_silence]

i have been emotionally hurt by black women but have craved a connection with them at the same time. But, that's not totally true. My best role model has been my "Aunt" Lanu (she is not a blood relative). So good to me.

Anthony: I have not been honest about my emotions. I have and continue to spend energy on keeping them "in check" (my guise for staying in control and appear to be in great control of stuff).

[nov_silence]

Things I would like to say to my mother (but won't this way):

You have tortured me emotionally and phsycially. And because of your treatment, I don't trust you. I know I said I forgave you, but I guess I really didn't deep down. I don't.

I don't want to be around you. That's why I don't come to visit. That's why I don't even call. You are depressing to be around. You tell me to take care of myself and you don't take care of you. I don't value anything you have to say. In fact, I hold the phone away from my ear sometimes when I am on the phone with you. For years I couldn't wait to get away from you and dad, so I could live my life without constantly feeling like total shit. In the time I have been living away from you, I have discovered that I am not shit. I have worth. I had to learn that on my own. That song you would sing when I was little; the one about "you are special, you're the only one of your kind" was worth horseshit coming from you. I don't know what it will mean to forgive you. When you tell me you love me, I don't know how to feel about that. I am tired of feeling obligated to try to make you feel better, happier (even if it is just for a moment). You have your life to live or not live. I don't want your prayers. I dont' benefit from your "concern" = worry. You say you mean well... but sometimes that's not reflected in what you say or how you act.

I visit out of obligation. I hate the house. Why do you think I spend so much time in the bedroom? You don't even seem to want me around, anyway. You stay in your bedroom most of the time.

The reminds of those long nights when I was afraid and couldn't tell you and Dad bc you wouldn't get it. When you asked over Thanksgiving break "what is PTSD?" I wanted to throw up. It confirmed my feelings of not being heard.

I cannot serve as a surrogate daughter to your brothers and sisters. I will not feel obligated to call people that don't want a relationship with me, the person. Your family may have wondered why I didn't talk to them more at my wedding? I don't feel connected to them. They are strangers to me. I am done "proving" myself to them; being the good role model, doing all the right things. I'm done.


I will never be the little kid I was. Get over telling me that you wish I could. My childhood is over. I am an adult and am becoming someone I finally like. Without your approval, consent, guidance. I am doing just fine living my life.

End of thoughts/letter



FCK this. Bullshit. I just don't want to deal. I have said alot of this before. What's the fcking point?:wall:

[No-Twitch-Tabitha]

i have been emotionally hurt by black women but have craved a connection with them at the same time. But, that's not totally true. My best role model has been my "Aunt" Lanu (she is not a blood relative). So good to me.

Anthony: I have not been honest about my emotions. I have and continue to spend energy on keeping them "in check" (my guise for staying in control and appear to be in great control of stuff).

Bingo! The black girls were the ones who picked on me at school for getting good grades, behaving myself, not getting into trouble, not "acting black enough" for them...I could go on. That treatment, needless to say, did not endear them to me, nor make me want a connection with other black girls. After a while, I just went my own way and stopped caring as much.

My friends growing up were different races and they continue to be so. Mostly because my parents raised me to look past that (unlike theirs...) and mostly because I'm not very social and I am very picky about those with whom I share my space.

My role model growing up was my Aunt Mary (Dad's sister) - she taught me how to crochet, how to play backgammon; she was a Marine and then in the Air Force, so she taught me the value of duty, sacrifice, and pride in my country. Our personalities were very similar, so she understood me pretty well. It was like watching me "when I grow up", so to speak.

***

As for spending a lot of energy and time keeping in emotions, I do the same thing. But eventually, your body takes over and forces you - in one way or another - to stop doing it. I'm learning that emotions are too strong to completely lid them without some consequence...and that means sapping your energy that could be used for other things...interests, hobbies...gosh, I don't even read as much as I used to...and writing...forget it.

I'm learning that PTSD is that signal that something needs to change...whether it's expressing emotions more...or trying to put it all into perspective so you can heal.

[nov_silence]

I have noticed that when I start to think about calling my mother or writing her a letter, I get really anxious. Not really a newsflash. I have these moments when I feel an anxiety attack stirring but it doesn't come.

Things in relation to intimacy with my husband has been nonexistent. And I find myself conciously choosing to blame myself (not being desireable, being dirty, not deserving of getting pregnant, toxic) instead of allowing myself to just be dissapointed.

I feel like I am back where I started in relation to my parents: feeling conflicted and resentful of myself and them... to a certain degree. It's not the exact same place, but the scenery reminds me of somewhere I have been before. I afraid of being wrong. That's it right there. I am afraid that my feelings, my thoughts, are inappropriate. I don't trust what I feel... bc I think it's skewed and lacking in foundation at this point. And it all just peter's out into avoidance.

Thoughts?

[anthony]

You know Antoinette, your first emotional interpretation is often the right one. We try to find reason in things that often we found long ago, we just don't / won't ever find hope in dealing with some people. It is like my brother... I love him dearly, but he couldn't really be bothered with anyone else in the family unless he wants something. I love to visit him when I am in his location, but he never makes any effort to visit me, or even anyone else in the family that live within 10km's of him. Drives right past all his brothers, sisters and mum and dads houses. If he wants something, then he will visit. Now there are two things I could do... do the same to him that he does, or simply accept that is the way he is, but not lower myself to his level. The later, is the correct choice really. You see, I thought about doing the first option many times, but my first and most prevalent feeling is that he is my brother, I still love him as my brother, and when I am in that location I visit him because I want too. He is nice to chat with, pulls out the beers, have a BBQ, etc etc... then I won't hear from him again unless he wants something, but I accept that as being him. If he had ever hurt me, then my first choice would have been, screw him, not visiting him or talking with him again. I could argue with that feeling, but that would be my feeling.

Basically, the moral of the story is that we often confuse the right choices for ourselves by other options, options we know deep down are not the right choices for us, as often one is more compelling that we believe in, and feel is correct for us.

[No-Twitch-Tabitha]

I have noticed that when I start to think about calling my mother or writing her a letter, I get really anxious. Not really a newsflash. I have these moments when I feel an anxiety attack stirring but it doesn't come.

I experience that as well. I get myself worked up when I have to talk to any of my co-workers (even those that I know fairly well). I communicate a lot by email at work.

I even feel anxious when I have to ask my sister a simple question. It's a feeling of not wanting to be seen as being dependent...or something to that effect. I can't find the right words to describe it.

Do you know why you may feel anxious? Is it because you feel that your mother may just dismiss you? That she doesn't want contact or wants to keep it status quo?



I feel like I am back where I started in relation to my parents: feeling conflicted and resentful of myself and them... to a certain degree. It's not the exact same place, but the scenery reminds me of somewhere I have been before. I afraid of being wrong. That's it right there. I am afraid that my feelings, my thoughts, are inappropriate. I don't trust what I feel... bc I think it's skewed and lacking in foundation at this point. And it all just peter's out into avoidance.

Same here. I don't like to look like I'm wrong, or am even capable of making a mistake. Irrational, yes, but true. It feels like a literal slap when people point out my mistakes. I find myself trying incredibly hard (too hard) not to make any.

How are you with criticism? I mean, no one likes to be criticized, but do you find yourself taking it extra-personally?

[nov_silence]

I've always had a hard time letting my mother know how I feel bc she laughed at me. She laughed when I told her that I was bulimic, that I felt she didn't care about me, that past issues were kicking my ass. I don't trust her. And I don't readily trust people in general. I always assume the worst, so there are no surprises.

I hate being wrong. I try hard not to be make mistakes or be wrong.

I talked to my bitch of a mother today. She had hoped I would have visited her this weekend to "comfort" her since Lulu (the family dog) died. I did that for so many years, and got shot down constantly. I have no motivation to be there for her.

I told her how I refuse to pretend to have relationships with family members just bc we are blood relatives. I don't really know these people. And they sure as hell don't know me. Why would I want to call them. I told her that I am not a superficial person and I will not call people bc somehting is missing in their lives or something didn't turn out the way they had hoped. I am not a surrogate, end all be all. Fck that sht. Since it has so worked for me in the past..... NOT!!!!!!!!

She told me how much it hurt her the way I acted at Thanksgving, avoiding her, not talking to her, staying in my room (a few shades short of drunk). I told her that she stays in her room when I visit anyway. How am I supposed to have a relationship with someone who isn't present? She told me that my presence in the house is enough. Well, fck her needs.

She told me that she thinks she has been the model mother for the past five years. Like fck she has. Just bc she helped pay for my wedding and didn't run off with some whore doesn't make her mother of the years, five years running. Such Bullsht.

Just like every conversation it became about her. Not me, not my needs. She went into a whole God-talk about asking for a clean heart. That my healing is riught there for the taking, while freedom from her pain is not. I am so fcking sick of her "Jesus-is-the-ultimate-healer" shit. It's not that I don't believe in God. It's just that I am tired of hearing these well-rehearsed lines that DON'T APPLY TO HER LIFE. I AM TIRED of self-sacrifical bullshit that she sells to everyone. I NEVER asked for her to sacrifice her soul. It's not my fault she's unhappy. I can't fill that whole. I don't owe her anything... but according to her that's all she wants = recognition of her many sacrifices. Are you shitting me? Fck no!!!!!!!!!

Honestly, I wouldn't mind being orphaned at the age of 29. There is nothing to gain from this relationship. I have no desire to see her... esp by myself. My father can drop dead too. I hope my children (when I have them) never meet their grandmother. She is still toxic, very depressed and talks a load of shit. I don't want her to know me. She doesn't know me. I don't trust her with my person. I know she loves me, but in this instance, love isn't enough.

[anthony]

I told her how I refuse to pretend to have relationships with family members just bc we are blood relatives. I don't really know these people. And they sure as hell don't know me. Why would I want to call them. I told her that I am not a superficial person and I will not call people bc somehting is missing in their lives or something didn't turn out the way they had hoped. I am not a surrogate, end all be all. Fck that sht. Since it has so worked for me in the past..... NOT!!!!!!!!
I have to say Antoinette... loving your progress. This is confidence, this is assertiveness coming out in you, not passive, not aggressive, assertive, not being afraid to tell people really how you feel about something if you know you feel its a facade, a mask, a lie. Congratulations and well done... isn't it nice to take control, instead of being controlled?

[nov_silence]

hell ya!

Thanks Anthony!

[nov_silence]

I feel drained. I feel defeated. I haven't struggled like this for months! Well, since Christmas. Really since Thanksgiving. Feel like I am on the verge of an anxiety attack. And it's hard to focus and keep things straight at work. I compensate by being more quiet than I usu am... and people notice. The more they notice, the more self-concious I become, and the more I want to hide. I haven't been able to sleep soundly at night. Sleeping pill or not. I wake up as soon as hubbie comes to bed. I'm not sure what i want or what i need. If I could have what I wanted, I would tell my mother the impact she has on me. And I want it to be about her and not some weakness within myself. I hate being wrong. I don't have the energy or wherewith all to come up against her fcked up logic. I can only battle the Jesus-Christ sht she throws when I am steady on my feet. Even my husband told me last night that I shouldn't talk to her for a while... and forget going to visit. At this point, it's either she goes or I go... and I still want a shot at life. I just need to take it easy on myself and try to let go of stres... I seem to be a sponge lately and it just builds (noises on TV, my dogs rough housing, car horns and anything else along the way). I feel out of control... which really means, that I am in pain and just need to take care and chill.

[anthony]

I compensate by being more quiet than I usu am... and people notice. The more they notice, the more self-concious I become, and the more I want to hide.
Come on now... you didn't think I would miss this clatant statement did you? A revolving cycle here Antoinette, one in which you know the cause, you know the outcome, so how do you resolve the problem?

[No-Twitch-Tabitha]

Clatant? Oh, blatant - you know how long it took me to figure that out? 20 minutes. I'm slow on the uptake today...

nov: Listen to the hubby: take time away from the mother-unit, replenish, build your strength.

I've been working with this visualization technique because I have poor boundaries, as they say. Find yourself a quiet spot (or a quiet moment in the chaos). Close your eyes, take 3 deep breaths, and picture yourself in your mind. Picture a sphere that emcompasses your entire body - it can be as large or as small as you want. Inside this sphere (or bubble, if you want to call it that) is your domain, your space. Nothing can get in if you don't want. Inside this sphere you can have music, soothing sounds, whatever it takes to make you feel rested.

Once you are able to visualize your sphere without much difficulty, you can experiment with the "settings": size, color, even shape. The point is, this is your oasis of calm.

Now. When you've achieved that calm, you can examine the issue with your mother. Take it point-by-point. Line by line. Syllable by syllable if you have to. Don't let her crap overwhelm you. If you start to feel like that's what's happening, stop, take a deep breath. Calm yourself, go back to where you were. Slowly deconstruct her.

It seems to me that the way she gets to you is to throw too much at you (her religious "reasoning", emotions, etc). She knows that's the way to shut you down and leave you vulnerable. Proceed carefully, and if she doesn't want to have a reasonable, logical discussion, leave it. Inform her that you are an adult, you don't have to take her crap, and if she can't calm the HELL down and address you reasonable person to reasonable person, you're gone.
Leave the ball in her court and concentrate on healing yourself. Don't let her bring you to a showdown before you are ready. If she's going to be an idiot, make it clear that she can be an idiot all by herself.

*whew*

[nov_silence]

You are both right. I am feeling better. I realize that she's nuts and that doesn't mean that I have to be nuts to. I went easy on myself last night and today and I am better off for it. It takes making a healthy decision minute by minute and sticking to it for my own good. I did that last night and today... and what a difference. I am getting my sea-legs back, so to speak.

Anthony, problem being resolved! :) I'm actively on it.

[anthony]

Now your talking... your self healing. We all have the skills, its just a matter of a boot every now and then to make us use them. I am glad that your working through this with logic, reason and commonsense.

[nov_silence]

Haven't been on here for a really long time. My "absence" co-incided with the sending the letter to my mother. And I talked myself out of coming on here countless times - I don't have anything new to say, it's the same shit over and over again, I am tired of talking, thinking, etc, I just don't want to deal, I don't want to admit that I am struggling with things in cycles, it seems - all the above. Then I have started freelancing and that took up my extra time. In this time away I have realized how much I am like my mother... or, how I have some of her mannerisms. I keep the idea of getting counseling for myself at the periphery of my mind. I still haven't talked to my mother and it's wearing on me... esp since my sister's graduation is coming up and I will not miss it... I am thinking of going down with my husband later this month to see her while he works on my mom's neighbor's roof. I am really scared of seeing her. I don't know what to say, how to feel, how to act.

Things on my end are okay. I go to work every day (not sure this job is for the rest of my life), try to do more stuff around the house. Still working on the smoking ciggs part... going well. I am taking more care in my eating habits which feels great and have lost some weight. Scott (husband) is in therapy and that's hard for both of us.. but worth it. I am really proud of him.

In the past 2 wks I have been asking myself all these existential questions concerning what is the purpose/meaning of my life is. I get stressed and tense about it and just want to shut off.

I wouldn't say I am depressed... but I realize how stiff I am socially and emotionally... I am trying to work on that by pracitcing relaxing, but letting things roll off me more and being more immediate.

It was really hard for me to come back on here. But anxiety was starting to lock me up and guilt was weighing me down.

I am too chicken (I know, a choice I conciously made) to open the letter from my old job about my coming back. I don't even want to deal with it. The only thing I am concered about his my retirement stuff. The one good friend I had there doesn't respond to emails anymore and so, I deem that relationship over. I figured that our friendship was more of an on-campus kind of thing - meaning while I was working there we were friends.. but now that I am not there, it has fizzled. I admit that I envy her present - she has a great house, is pregnant, and earns a nice income, she keeps her shit together, plans carefully and follows through.

I am still pretty socially isolated. I do chat online with my sister alot more and talk on the phone some with her... which is a big thing for me. I have friends that are amazing people, I just don't keep contact with them... they understand and they don't pressure, but I do admit to feeling the distance, feeling lonley.

I realize that all the above is about choices I can or have made. And I own this.