I am thinking about how far I have come, and how much closer to my goals I am now.
Back in 1998, as I was living in a trailer, 'house-sitting' for a stranger in the middle of nowhere with no radio or tv, no income and nobody I could count on, griving the loss of my youngest daughter... in the middle of the silence and despair, I had a feeling of hearing a still small voice, like a tiny child. I paid attention to it. I thought, if this is my 'inner child' I need to listen. As I listened, it seemed the tiny voice was crying.
I asked; What are you crying for?
and listening more, I felt the answer was; I'm afraid.
So I asked; What are you afraid of?
in the stillness, listening, I felt the answer again; "I'm afraid you will never be my mother."
I was astonished, and wondered if I was trying to tell myself I needed to have another baby. I knew that, as long as I was on anti-depressants, that must never happen, as it would damage a baby's developement.
I thought about this and prayed about it for months, and finally made the choice to start weaning myself off the meds. I went slowly, reducing the dosage for a few months until I was off them completely.
I absolutely suffered more depression, but I was finally feeling a bit healthier, my hands were not shaking so badly, I stopped the violent vomiting, and eventually the other side effects of the medication all went away too, but some of it lingered on for years, and the loss of focus while reading persists today.
I was not sure why I was having this feeling about a baby. I was very sure I did not want to risk getting involved with another bad man. So, I just kept working on myself.
The therapist I was seeing agreed to have an associate teach me self hypnosis to seek out the missing memories in my life. He showed me how to relax and let my mind focus on something before the missing memories, and then just wait for the memories to come back.
Some results were immediate.
Some results took many more years.
Sometimes I didn't try. Sometimes I journaled my dreams. Some times I just wondered.
Several years went past, and lots of turmoils came and went, keeping my mind to busy to make much progress..... and in 2008, after a big personal crisis, I moved to Indiana to a town I had never seen, to a new church community, a new therapist, everything new, except for my missing memories.
I still needed answers.
I met new friends. I attended the retreat and formation process mentioned in earlier posts...... and finally the reason for the tiny interior crying child's voice made it's way into my awareness. 42 years earlier I had a son.
it is 44 years now, and I am so happy to have my personal history, as painful as it is, finally intact, and finally I am free from the tiny crying voice, the nightmares of faceless people stealing my baby boy from me [which began in 1967]. Finally my self awareness is restored and I feel whole.
******************
I have goals; to get the records of what happened at the hospital my parents took my son to after he was born.
I intend to get the birth certificate corrected, with my name for his mother.
I intend to have siblings and other people accept my truth.
I want to see my son, and have my kids all together and get a family portrait done.
I want positive direction.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
rough times
my meds for pain have been altered, and the swelling is worse as is pain and tiredness. I found myself thinking; I'm tired of living like this.
I am trying to get in a better mood.
I am trying to get in a better mood.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Ostracism & Isolation
Quote;
Professor: Pain of ostracism can be deep, long-lasting (5/21/2011)
Tags:
self-esteem, social rejection
Ostracism or exclusion may not leave external scars, but it can cause pain that often is deeper and lasts longer than a physical injury, according to a Purdue University expert.
"Being excluded or ostracized is an invisible form of bullying that doesn't leave bruises, and therefore we often underestimate its impact," said Kipling D. Williams, a professor of psychological sciences. "Being excluded by high school friends, office colleagues, or even spouses or family members can be excruciating. And because ostracism is experienced in three stages, the life of those painful feelings can be extended for the long term. People and clinicians need to be aware of this so they can avoid depression or other negative experiences."
When a person is ostracized, the brain's dorsal anterior cingulate cortex, which registers physical pain, also feels this social injury, Williams said. The process of ostracism includes three stages: the initial acts of being ignored or excluded, coping and resignation.
Williams' research is reported in the current issue of Current Directions in Psychological Sciences. The article was co-authored by Steve A. Nida, associate provost and dean of The Citadel Graduate College and a professor of psychology.
"Being excluded is painful because it threatens fundamental human needs, such as belonging and self-esteem," Williams said. "Again and again research has found that strong, harmful reactions are possible even when ostracized by a stranger or for a short amount of time."
More than 5,000 people have participated in studies using a computer game designed by Williams to show how just two or three minutes of ostracism can produce lingering negative feelings.
"How can it be that such a brief experience, even when being ignored and excluded by strangers with whom the individual will never have any face-to-face interaction, can have such a powerful effect?" he said. "The effect is consistent even though individuals' personalities vary."
People also vary in how they cope, which is the second stage of ostracism. Coping can mean the person tries to harder be included. For example, some of those who are ostracized may be more likely to engage in behaviors that increase their future inclusion by mimicking, complying, obeying orders, cooperating or expressing attraction.
from;
http://www.brainmysteries.com/research/Professor_Pain_of_ostracism_can_be_deep_long-lasting.asp?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+BrainMysteries+%28Brain+News+And+Research%29&utm_content=My+Yahoo
**************************************************
the rest of this post is not a quote from anyone, but personal observations.
Isolation was a big factor in the way my parents exerted control over me.
The same day my son was born [I was 12 years old], our family moved to a new house many miles from where we had been living. So, a new school, new neighbors, no phone for the first few days...... suddenly I was in strange territory, even though I had formerly lived in the same neighborhood years prior, I didn't know anyone very well. Our next door neighbor was someone I had known vaguely during early elementary school, as well as the girl across the street, who never spoke to me. I was immediately thrust into a caretaker role, having to walk quickly from my junior high school to my siblings elementary school for the first few weeks to meet my younger siblings and walk them home every day.
This limited the amount of time I had for developing new friendships, although one very nice girl used to walk with me until our paths diverged.
More time constraints were imposed, after arriving home with my siblings, I had to all of the household chores, with the small exception of my mother's laundry and my son's laundry, as my mother "didn't trust" me to do it right. Dish washing, cooking, laundry washing, drying and ironing, folding, putting away for all of the other 6 members of the family, dusting, sweeping, vaccuuming, my older brother fed the dogs and took out the trash, those were considered boys work.
All of my time was taken up with chores and homework, followed by 'babysitting' when my mother went out friday and saturday nights.
I was not allowed to keep in touch with my best friend from all of my life.... and I was terribly shy.
Secrets isolate as well. There were so many things I was never allowed to talk about, even with my grandparents who loved me.
People are NEVER property.
Ostracism and isolation are forms of control/bullying.
We must never tolerate these actions and must learn to recognize these as earmarks of abuse.
Professor: Pain of ostracism can be deep, long-lasting (5/21/2011)
Tags:
self-esteem, social rejection
Ostracism or exclusion may not leave external scars, but it can cause pain that often is deeper and lasts longer than a physical injury, according to a Purdue University expert.
"Being excluded or ostracized is an invisible form of bullying that doesn't leave bruises, and therefore we often underestimate its impact," said Kipling D. Williams, a professor of psychological sciences. "Being excluded by high school friends, office colleagues, or even spouses or family members can be excruciating. And because ostracism is experienced in three stages, the life of those painful feelings can be extended for the long term. People and clinicians need to be aware of this so they can avoid depression or other negative experiences."
When a person is ostracized, the brain's dorsal anterior cingulate cortex, which registers physical pain, also feels this social injury, Williams said. The process of ostracism includes three stages: the initial acts of being ignored or excluded, coping and resignation.
Williams' research is reported in the current issue of Current Directions in Psychological Sciences. The article was co-authored by Steve A. Nida, associate provost and dean of The Citadel Graduate College and a professor of psychology.
"Being excluded is painful because it threatens fundamental human needs, such as belonging and self-esteem," Williams said. "Again and again research has found that strong, harmful reactions are possible even when ostracized by a stranger or for a short amount of time."
More than 5,000 people have participated in studies using a computer game designed by Williams to show how just two or three minutes of ostracism can produce lingering negative feelings.
"How can it be that such a brief experience, even when being ignored and excluded by strangers with whom the individual will never have any face-to-face interaction, can have such a powerful effect?" he said. "The effect is consistent even though individuals' personalities vary."
People also vary in how they cope, which is the second stage of ostracism. Coping can mean the person tries to harder be included. For example, some of those who are ostracized may be more likely to engage in behaviors that increase their future inclusion by mimicking, complying, obeying orders, cooperating or expressing attraction.
from;
http://www.brainmysteries.com/research/Professor_Pain_of_ostracism_can_be_deep_long-lasting.asp?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+BrainMysteries+%28Brain+News+And+Research%29&utm_content=My+Yahoo
**************************************************
the rest of this post is not a quote from anyone, but personal observations.
Isolation was a big factor in the way my parents exerted control over me.
The same day my son was born [I was 12 years old], our family moved to a new house many miles from where we had been living. So, a new school, new neighbors, no phone for the first few days...... suddenly I was in strange territory, even though I had formerly lived in the same neighborhood years prior, I didn't know anyone very well. Our next door neighbor was someone I had known vaguely during early elementary school, as well as the girl across the street, who never spoke to me. I was immediately thrust into a caretaker role, having to walk quickly from my junior high school to my siblings elementary school for the first few weeks to meet my younger siblings and walk them home every day.
This limited the amount of time I had for developing new friendships, although one very nice girl used to walk with me until our paths diverged.
More time constraints were imposed, after arriving home with my siblings, I had to all of the household chores, with the small exception of my mother's laundry and my son's laundry, as my mother "didn't trust" me to do it right. Dish washing, cooking, laundry washing, drying and ironing, folding, putting away for all of the other 6 members of the family, dusting, sweeping, vaccuuming, my older brother fed the dogs and took out the trash, those were considered boys work.
All of my time was taken up with chores and homework, followed by 'babysitting' when my mother went out friday and saturday nights.
I was not allowed to keep in touch with my best friend from all of my life.... and I was terribly shy.
Secrets isolate as well. There were so many things I was never allowed to talk about, even with my grandparents who loved me.
People are NEVER property.
Ostracism and isolation are forms of control/bullying.
We must never tolerate these actions and must learn to recognize these as earmarks of abuse.
Friday, May 20, 2011
praying for our abusers
this is a very difficult thing, and I have to keep trying to do it anyway.
I was just sharing this prayers when I thought about my need to forgive my parents for what they did to me, so I will share it here;
Petition to Mary for the Suffering Souls
O Immaculate Mother, Queen of Heaven, hear the cries of your suffering children in purgatory and intercede for them at the throne of the Almighty. Behold in them, O Mother most faithful, the image of your Divine Son Who offered Himself in their behalf. Recall His bitter passion and death, and see in them His very sufferings. We feel confident, then, O Mother of Mercy, that you will obtain their liberation; so that they, in union with you and the choir of Heaven, may contemplate the Beatific Vision in heaven forever. Amen.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord; and let perpetual light shine upon them.
Amen.
I struggle with this so much, especially since so much is still unresolved.
I need to have corrections made to my son's birth certificate, and I want to get all of the info from my mother's stay in the hospital where she CLAIMED to be his mother........... a lot of anger here.
prayers for her and for my father will eventually help me to get past the anger.
Anger only hurts me and makes the injuries worse.
I was just sharing this prayers when I thought about my need to forgive my parents for what they did to me, so I will share it here;
Petition to Mary for the Suffering Souls
O Immaculate Mother, Queen of Heaven, hear the cries of your suffering children in purgatory and intercede for them at the throne of the Almighty. Behold in them, O Mother most faithful, the image of your Divine Son Who offered Himself in their behalf. Recall His bitter passion and death, and see in them His very sufferings. We feel confident, then, O Mother of Mercy, that you will obtain their liberation; so that they, in union with you and the choir of Heaven, may contemplate the Beatific Vision in heaven forever. Amen.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord; and let perpetual light shine upon them.
Amen.
I struggle with this so much, especially since so much is still unresolved.
I need to have corrections made to my son's birth certificate, and I want to get all of the info from my mother's stay in the hospital where she CLAIMED to be his mother........... a lot of anger here.
prayers for her and for my father will eventually help me to get past the anger.
Anger only hurts me and makes the injuries worse.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
small memory recall
I keep getting small bits of memory come back to me, and today was the first time I remembered my son's first steps. We were in the living room on Henderson Ave. and I had been walking him around holding his hands. Then I got on my knees a few feet in front of him and put my hands out and asked him to walk to me and he did. He was so cute and happy. My mother said he was supposed to walk to her first.
I had the joy of his first steps. I lost the joy for a long time, but now I remember it again.
**********************************
Remarkably, I just had another memory; my son's first tooth.
I remember feeding him and he kept clunking his tooth on the spoon, so I said "Let me see that little toothie" and put my finger on his tooth, and he bit me. I yelped "Ouch" and he laughed and laughed.
What a great night this has been, 2 good memories!
**********************************
make that 3.... I remember that when Mom took my son out and got his hair cut for the first time, I was really sad because all of his blond curls were gone. I told her not to do it.
She didn't want anyone to think he was a girl. He wasn't not dressed like a girl, so I didn't see it as a real valid point.
oh well.
I had the joy of his first steps. I lost the joy for a long time, but now I remember it again.
**********************************
Remarkably, I just had another memory; my son's first tooth.
I remember feeding him and he kept clunking his tooth on the spoon, so I said "Let me see that little toothie" and put my finger on his tooth, and he bit me. I yelped "Ouch" and he laughed and laughed.
What a great night this has been, 2 good memories!
**********************************
make that 3.... I remember that when Mom took my son out and got his hair cut for the first time, I was really sad because all of his blond curls were gone. I told her not to do it.
She didn't want anyone to think he was a girl. He wasn't not dressed like a girl, so I didn't see it as a real valid point.
oh well.
stolen from me
There have been so many things stolen from me, property, my son, my rights to a decent childhood, my virginity, a natural amount of self respect and personal dignity.......
Having my father so deeply betray my trust was severely damaging to my life.
Having my mother help him by keeping it secret, and then betraying my trust herself is double injury. All children naturally count on their mothers for help and protection and love........ finding out that none of these things are available to you is theft.
Stealing my right to have a decent parent is not all that she took.
When my grandmother gave me a lovely 3 strand crystal necklace, Mom took it away from me. When grandma gave me a sweet rhinestone tiara, Mom took it away from me. I had a little orange tabby cat that I loved, Mom took it away from me and sent it to the animal shelter [probably to be killed].
An uncle gave me a pair of parakeets in a cage, and I named them Paul and George, and cared for them and taught them to stand on my finger and reply to my whistles.... I came home from school one day to find an empty cage in my room. Mom said they died. I found out she was lying because I saw them flying around with sparrows outside.
When I was 15, she went into my bedroom and pulled a box out from under my bed where I kept all of the Barbie and Ken dolls I had collected for all of my childhood, all I ever got for birthdays and Christmases.... and she took all 32 dolls, the Barbie car and furniture and gave it to a little girl up the street. When I came home she told me what she had done.
She knew I would never go take toys away from a little 4 year old child.
I was livid, I was saving them for my own daughters.
My uncle gave me a guitar, as his daughter was bored with it. I was learning to play it and loved it and kept it polished and felt some pride in what I was doing. One day it was gone, Mom suggested that my younger brother must have sold it to buy drugs. Years later I found it in her bedroom closet after she had died.
When I was living in my own first apartment with my baby daughter, Mom gave me some Christmas tree ornaments, she had hundreds, so she gave me some as a gift. Years later, when I was married and living with my second husband and 3 youngest children she came to visit for Christmas and I took Mom and my in-laws on a trip to New York for a Star Trek convention. I paid for the hotel rooms, the food, the convention tickets and did the driving. She got to meet some movie stars, one of her bigest dreams come true. We had a wonderful time, and I loved to have the opportunity to treat my Mother and my in-laws. We returned to my home, and after our visit was done, I took Mom to the train and sent her back to Myrtle Beach. I had also paid for her round trip train tickets.
When she got home, she phoned me and said "Oh, by the way, I took my ornaments off the tree.".
After all that I did, spending hundreds of dollars and making her dream of meeting movie stars come true, she stole from me again.
All of the thefts from my mother set up a pattern of thefts from other people. When I re-collected all of the Barbies and Kens and Skippers, they got stolen by people who broke into my home.
I am on my third try at collecting them back, but it is not the same as having the originals which I kept in pristine condition.
My first husband stole all of my fine china and leather bound books and tupperware..... he even stole my house plants, as well as a whole house full of furniture when he divorced me, all of those things were mine before I ever met him.
My second husband followed his example, kicked me and the childern out of our home, took my name off our joint checking account and put his girlfriend on it, locked me out of our office where I had worked for him [she replaced me there too]. So, homeless and jobless and kicked to the curb.
Many terrible thefts occured later on, but the very worst of it all was when my mother stole my son from me and passed him off as her own and NEVER gave him back.
It took me 42 years to come to terms with that horrible betrayal, and I have my son back, and he is a joy to my heart. If Mom were still alive I would never have had a chance to reclaim him.
****************************************
Why is all of this theft significant?
It is one method of brainwashing. To stip one of their belongings, their place in family [my motherhood of my son] and my ability to feel safe, all of these things build a wall of denial and fear.
Was she smart enough to know that brainwashing was a way to control me?
No, but she came by it naturally. I don't know how she learned it, but she
systematically tore down everything I cared about and pushed me into the background.
I could not figure out for years why she let my younger sister have the cutest clothes and the groovy go-go boots when I had to wear shift dresses, tent dresses and penny loafers. It is obvious now, the more of the spotlight being shone on my sister, the less everyone noticed me, so my pregnant condition was not noticed. If anyone did notice, I was never told.
more brainwashing; servitude. Having all of my time used up with school and household chores broke my spirit. it also facilitated the other part of brainwashing; isolation. When we first moved to our new home the day my son was born, I was never allowed to write letters to my best friend from elementary school. She had moved away and we were pen pals, but I was forbidden to keep in touch with her when we moved. I tried to send her a letter once but Mom caught me and tore it up. I was 15 before I was allowed to do anything fun.
It was still micromanaged though, I was only allowed to be at the homes of 3 different friends, and my mother would call and make sure I was really there.
I was the only 15 year old I knew who had to be home when the street lights come on, which was 5 pm in the winter, after having to come home directly from school and do chores...... so I might get 45 minutes a day out of the perview of my mother's strict regime.
Somehow, I managed to start sneaking cigarettes, about 30 of them per day.
Between classes at school was no problem, I carried a forged note from my mother saying I was allowed to smoke...... thanks to my friend J.A., who could write just like mom.
Sneaking after school at home hours was significantly more difficult, but it was a point of rebellion, a long over-due rebellion.
Fortunately I was able to quit smoking as an adult. But it served it's purpose back then. It was like spitting in her face, behind her back.
Having my father so deeply betray my trust was severely damaging to my life.
Having my mother help him by keeping it secret, and then betraying my trust herself is double injury. All children naturally count on their mothers for help and protection and love........ finding out that none of these things are available to you is theft.
Stealing my right to have a decent parent is not all that she took.
When my grandmother gave me a lovely 3 strand crystal necklace, Mom took it away from me. When grandma gave me a sweet rhinestone tiara, Mom took it away from me. I had a little orange tabby cat that I loved, Mom took it away from me and sent it to the animal shelter [probably to be killed].
An uncle gave me a pair of parakeets in a cage, and I named them Paul and George, and cared for them and taught them to stand on my finger and reply to my whistles.... I came home from school one day to find an empty cage in my room. Mom said they died. I found out she was lying because I saw them flying around with sparrows outside.
When I was 15, she went into my bedroom and pulled a box out from under my bed where I kept all of the Barbie and Ken dolls I had collected for all of my childhood, all I ever got for birthdays and Christmases.... and she took all 32 dolls, the Barbie car and furniture and gave it to a little girl up the street. When I came home she told me what she had done.
She knew I would never go take toys away from a little 4 year old child.
I was livid, I was saving them for my own daughters.
My uncle gave me a guitar, as his daughter was bored with it. I was learning to play it and loved it and kept it polished and felt some pride in what I was doing. One day it was gone, Mom suggested that my younger brother must have sold it to buy drugs. Years later I found it in her bedroom closet after she had died.
When I was living in my own first apartment with my baby daughter, Mom gave me some Christmas tree ornaments, she had hundreds, so she gave me some as a gift. Years later, when I was married and living with my second husband and 3 youngest children she came to visit for Christmas and I took Mom and my in-laws on a trip to New York for a Star Trek convention. I paid for the hotel rooms, the food, the convention tickets and did the driving. She got to meet some movie stars, one of her bigest dreams come true. We had a wonderful time, and I loved to have the opportunity to treat my Mother and my in-laws. We returned to my home, and after our visit was done, I took Mom to the train and sent her back to Myrtle Beach. I had also paid for her round trip train tickets.
When she got home, she phoned me and said "Oh, by the way, I took my ornaments off the tree.".
After all that I did, spending hundreds of dollars and making her dream of meeting movie stars come true, she stole from me again.
All of the thefts from my mother set up a pattern of thefts from other people. When I re-collected all of the Barbies and Kens and Skippers, they got stolen by people who broke into my home.
I am on my third try at collecting them back, but it is not the same as having the originals which I kept in pristine condition.
My first husband stole all of my fine china and leather bound books and tupperware..... he even stole my house plants, as well as a whole house full of furniture when he divorced me, all of those things were mine before I ever met him.
My second husband followed his example, kicked me and the childern out of our home, took my name off our joint checking account and put his girlfriend on it, locked me out of our office where I had worked for him [she replaced me there too]. So, homeless and jobless and kicked to the curb.
Many terrible thefts occured later on, but the very worst of it all was when my mother stole my son from me and passed him off as her own and NEVER gave him back.
It took me 42 years to come to terms with that horrible betrayal, and I have my son back, and he is a joy to my heart. If Mom were still alive I would never have had a chance to reclaim him.
****************************************
Why is all of this theft significant?
It is one method of brainwashing. To stip one of their belongings, their place in family [my motherhood of my son] and my ability to feel safe, all of these things build a wall of denial and fear.
Was she smart enough to know that brainwashing was a way to control me?
No, but she came by it naturally. I don't know how she learned it, but she
systematically tore down everything I cared about and pushed me into the background.
I could not figure out for years why she let my younger sister have the cutest clothes and the groovy go-go boots when I had to wear shift dresses, tent dresses and penny loafers. It is obvious now, the more of the spotlight being shone on my sister, the less everyone noticed me, so my pregnant condition was not noticed. If anyone did notice, I was never told.
more brainwashing; servitude. Having all of my time used up with school and household chores broke my spirit. it also facilitated the other part of brainwashing; isolation. When we first moved to our new home the day my son was born, I was never allowed to write letters to my best friend from elementary school. She had moved away and we were pen pals, but I was forbidden to keep in touch with her when we moved. I tried to send her a letter once but Mom caught me and tore it up. I was 15 before I was allowed to do anything fun.
It was still micromanaged though, I was only allowed to be at the homes of 3 different friends, and my mother would call and make sure I was really there.
I was the only 15 year old I knew who had to be home when the street lights come on, which was 5 pm in the winter, after having to come home directly from school and do chores...... so I might get 45 minutes a day out of the perview of my mother's strict regime.
Somehow, I managed to start sneaking cigarettes, about 30 of them per day.
Between classes at school was no problem, I carried a forged note from my mother saying I was allowed to smoke...... thanks to my friend J.A., who could write just like mom.
Sneaking after school at home hours was significantly more difficult, but it was a point of rebellion, a long over-due rebellion.
Fortunately I was able to quit smoking as an adult. But it served it's purpose back then. It was like spitting in her face, behind her back.
good things
I had a short phone conversation with my son tonight. He always makes me laugh. We talk about all sorts of different things, and it's always very uplifting.
It has been raining for about 2 days now, I'm sure somebody thinks it's 'good for the flowers' or something, I tend to think sunshine is better.
My oldest daughter calls me every day, sometimes 3 times in the same day.
It is a big improvement over how things were for one really bad year.
I'm glad she will be getting divorced from that creep soon, so is she.
My second girl is not very much in touch, I keep hoping that will get better.
When you grow up in a worse-than-disfunctional family, it isn't easy to form the best relationships. I keep trying my best.
It has been raining for about 2 days now, I'm sure somebody thinks it's 'good for the flowers' or something, I tend to think sunshine is better.
My oldest daughter calls me every day, sometimes 3 times in the same day.
It is a big improvement over how things were for one really bad year.
I'm glad she will be getting divorced from that creep soon, so is she.
My second girl is not very much in touch, I keep hoping that will get better.
When you grow up in a worse-than-disfunctional family, it isn't easy to form the best relationships. I keep trying my best.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Grief
I know grief is somewhat off-topic, but all of us have some sort of grief in our lives. Grieving our lost innocence, our lost hopes, our cruel scars.......
But this is going to be about my daughter's death. Gracie was only 15 years old, it was July 4th 1997. I had gone to an old friend's wedding in Virginia, and Gracie was supposed to stay with our next door neighbors.
She went home alone to take a nap, and when she got up, she realized the neighbors had gone to the fireworks at the beach without her.
She walked to their parents home about a mile away to seek a ride, and after making some phone calls, nobody was willing to drive her, so she headed out hitch-hiking. Somebody in a white van picked her up, and shortly afterwards threw her out the back of the van at 55+ mph, and she was struck by the following car, and dragged 200 yards before the driver realized it was a person they hit. The driver panicked and flipped their car over in a ditch.
Grace was dead imediately.
On my trip to Virginia for the wedding, as I was riding the greyhound bus,
I saw a car completely engulfed in flames in the slow lane, and a horrible feeling came over me. I wanted to turn around and go home. Bus drivers don't do that though, so I continued on the trip.
My friend and her family met me at the bus, and we went to see fireworks near their home. around 10 pm, I suddenly started having my period, 2 weeks early. Again, I felt something was really wrong. I had no way to go home that night, so I stayed for the wedding as planned.
After the wedding on July 5th, I drove my friends car as they rode in the back seat, and we headed to Myrtle Beach where they were honeymooning.
I lived about 15 miles from there. When we arrived at their hotel, I phoned my next door neighbors to come and get me, P. E. said he was too drunk so he sent someone else to get me. The ride back was strangely quiet, and the driver insisted we stop at his parents house. When we came inside, I suddenly felt like I was walking through heavy fog. There were lots of people there, and my pastor and I was introduced to the coroner.
They told me there had been an accident...... Grace was dead. They had already done an autopsy. They lied to me and told me that she had just been standing in the highway and it was an unavoidable accident. They suggested she must have been on drugs. I told them they were wrong, she was not using drugs and would never stand in the road. It was shortly after 10 pm July 4th when she died.
The following days were a blur to me. I had to be heavily medicated and could hardly walk without holding on to someone or something.
It was years before I started to function in anything like a normal way.
I have never slept normally since then. When I sleep, I have nightmares.
Even a short nap like earlier today, and I have dreams of Grace and images of death.
I try to get out of sleep and get something done around here. It is crippling.
**************************************
Other grief - nightmare things are attached to my childhood abuse.
If you have read the rest of the blog it will come as no surprise.
I have finally stopped having the nightmares about faceless people stealing my baby boy, it plagued me constantly since 1967 when J.F. was born until we finally dealt with the truth of his birth in october 2009.
42 years of nightmares and visiting baby stores to look at baby boy clothes..... and sometimes hearing a small child cry [inside my head like interior locution]. My mind was trying for years to push me to remember.
There is a lot of grief, and anguish. Now I am struggling with anger at my mother, for not only covering up my father's crimes, but for forcing me to live a lie and treating me like crap. My parents are in my nightmares too, and I just want them to go away. They just can't stay dead. Sometimes I dream of them climbing out of their graves......... and the rest of the dream I am trying to get them back into the ground.
It's all grief.
But this is going to be about my daughter's death. Gracie was only 15 years old, it was July 4th 1997. I had gone to an old friend's wedding in Virginia, and Gracie was supposed to stay with our next door neighbors.
She went home alone to take a nap, and when she got up, she realized the neighbors had gone to the fireworks at the beach without her.
She walked to their parents home about a mile away to seek a ride, and after making some phone calls, nobody was willing to drive her, so she headed out hitch-hiking. Somebody in a white van picked her up, and shortly afterwards threw her out the back of the van at 55+ mph, and she was struck by the following car, and dragged 200 yards before the driver realized it was a person they hit. The driver panicked and flipped their car over in a ditch.
Grace was dead imediately.
On my trip to Virginia for the wedding, as I was riding the greyhound bus,
I saw a car completely engulfed in flames in the slow lane, and a horrible feeling came over me. I wanted to turn around and go home. Bus drivers don't do that though, so I continued on the trip.
My friend and her family met me at the bus, and we went to see fireworks near their home. around 10 pm, I suddenly started having my period, 2 weeks early. Again, I felt something was really wrong. I had no way to go home that night, so I stayed for the wedding as planned.
After the wedding on July 5th, I drove my friends car as they rode in the back seat, and we headed to Myrtle Beach where they were honeymooning.
I lived about 15 miles from there. When we arrived at their hotel, I phoned my next door neighbors to come and get me, P. E. said he was too drunk so he sent someone else to get me. The ride back was strangely quiet, and the driver insisted we stop at his parents house. When we came inside, I suddenly felt like I was walking through heavy fog. There were lots of people there, and my pastor and I was introduced to the coroner.
They told me there had been an accident...... Grace was dead. They had already done an autopsy. They lied to me and told me that she had just been standing in the highway and it was an unavoidable accident. They suggested she must have been on drugs. I told them they were wrong, she was not using drugs and would never stand in the road. It was shortly after 10 pm July 4th when she died.
The following days were a blur to me. I had to be heavily medicated and could hardly walk without holding on to someone or something.
It was years before I started to function in anything like a normal way.
I have never slept normally since then. When I sleep, I have nightmares.
Even a short nap like earlier today, and I have dreams of Grace and images of death.
I try to get out of sleep and get something done around here. It is crippling.
**************************************
Other grief - nightmare things are attached to my childhood abuse.
If you have read the rest of the blog it will come as no surprise.
I have finally stopped having the nightmares about faceless people stealing my baby boy, it plagued me constantly since 1967 when J.F. was born until we finally dealt with the truth of his birth in october 2009.
42 years of nightmares and visiting baby stores to look at baby boy clothes..... and sometimes hearing a small child cry [inside my head like interior locution]. My mind was trying for years to push me to remember.
There is a lot of grief, and anguish. Now I am struggling with anger at my mother, for not only covering up my father's crimes, but for forcing me to live a lie and treating me like crap. My parents are in my nightmares too, and I just want them to go away. They just can't stay dead. Sometimes I dream of them climbing out of their graves......... and the rest of the dream I am trying to get them back into the ground.
It's all grief.
tip toe on egg shells
otherwise known as pussy-footing around....... is it the right way to get through life or not?
no simple answer here. Blessed are the meek, eventually. But in healing family relationships, should we tap dance around the issues and avoid addressing the elephant in the room?
I don't know. I keep pondering this point. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I am constantly hurt. I want us all to be able to face the truth, and get past it. to overcome the stumbling blocks set up in front of our every step by our parents in all their dreadful ways, and make a clear path with a more rewarding future.
I do not know how to accomplish any of it.
I just pray and hope.
no simple answer here. Blessed are the meek, eventually. But in healing family relationships, should we tap dance around the issues and avoid addressing the elephant in the room?
I don't know. I keep pondering this point. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I am constantly hurt. I want us all to be able to face the truth, and get past it. to overcome the stumbling blocks set up in front of our every step by our parents in all their dreadful ways, and make a clear path with a more rewarding future.
I do not know how to accomplish any of it.
I just pray and hope.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
grappling with self
sometimes I have to face hard truths about myself, like my fear of being judged. I know, it seems like that isn't one of my big problems, but it really is. I had to look at myself a bit harder today, because it was clear I wasn't being completely upfront and honest about my self image. It started as a simple thing, a friend offered me clothing, which was very kind of her. I was dismissive and unintentionally hurt her feelings. It was entirely because of how I was covering up the extent of my depression....... I don't actually need MORE clothing, I am simply not taking care of the ones I have properly, or even caring for myself as I should, and running into a laundry pile and the depression slump is not getting better.
I hope I can make sure my friend sees how sorry I am about slighting her, she didn't deserve it and I didn't realize I was doing it. I was just trying to avoid having anyone know how poorly my emotional state is doing.
There is not a bushel basket big enough to hide me under.
I feel so stupid. I know it is more important to be open and honest than it is to fear judgement, but I have suffered cruel judgement so many times in my life it seems automatic to expect everyone to just detest me if they know me well enough.
That is pretty depressing right there. My sister, J.T., is judgemental of me, and seems to be rattling my cage a lot lately..... NOT the interaction I have hoped for. Expecting anything to change may be useless too, but I do keep praying. and waiting. and praying.
I'm very frustrated and sad.
Anyone who has been the target of abuse probably knows this feeling well, but it is doggone hard to face anyway. Fear of judgement, fear of rejection, self loathing are all things our perpetrators foist on us to cripple and confuse us, to keep their evil betrayals in operation.
Making the victim look feeble, foolish and possibly insane are such great ways to hide the truth of the abuse, and the abuser goes merrily on.
Leaving the scarred and pathetic victim demoralized and broken and ripe for repeat offenders to jump right into their lives..... like sharks frenzied after chumming the waters.
Self respect. it is still a distant goal.
I hope I can make sure my friend sees how sorry I am about slighting her, she didn't deserve it and I didn't realize I was doing it. I was just trying to avoid having anyone know how poorly my emotional state is doing.
There is not a bushel basket big enough to hide me under.
I feel so stupid. I know it is more important to be open and honest than it is to fear judgement, but I have suffered cruel judgement so many times in my life it seems automatic to expect everyone to just detest me if they know me well enough.
That is pretty depressing right there. My sister, J.T., is judgemental of me, and seems to be rattling my cage a lot lately..... NOT the interaction I have hoped for. Expecting anything to change may be useless too, but I do keep praying. and waiting. and praying.
I'm very frustrated and sad.
Anyone who has been the target of abuse probably knows this feeling well, but it is doggone hard to face anyway. Fear of judgement, fear of rejection, self loathing are all things our perpetrators foist on us to cripple and confuse us, to keep their evil betrayals in operation.
Making the victim look feeble, foolish and possibly insane are such great ways to hide the truth of the abuse, and the abuser goes merrily on.
Leaving the scarred and pathetic victim demoralized and broken and ripe for repeat offenders to jump right into their lives..... like sharks frenzied after chumming the waters.
Self respect. it is still a distant goal.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
strong emotions
I just saw a photo from my family on my 12th birthday, posted by one of my sisters on facebook, and it makes me feel just sick inside. It was one picture of me, my brother and sister, our dog and my mother, disguised in a maternity outfit. October 11, 1966 was the day I got the camera from my grandmother for my 12th birthday, and I was the one who was pregnant.
Mom was posing for the big lie......... and it was way too soon for anyone to be 'showing' in the pregnancy that resulted in my son'e birth on April 30, 1967.
I do not know why my sister posted it, or why she 'tagged' me in the post, maybe she was trying to get a reaction from me? I'm very upset.
I am trying very hard to get this situation resolved in my family, and trying very hard to not start any fights over it.
I deserve to have a clear and reasonable conversation with those who fail to believe me. I know the lie was well established, but I still have a right to own the truth of my own history, and the parenthood of my own son.
my hands are shaking and I need an excedrin.
******************************
originally posted may 1st, the day after my son's 44th birthday. one of my daughters suggested my sister likely posted the photo on that day to jab at me.
Mom was posing for the big lie......... and it was way too soon for anyone to be 'showing' in the pregnancy that resulted in my son'e birth on April 30, 1967.
I do not know why my sister posted it, or why she 'tagged' me in the post, maybe she was trying to get a reaction from me? I'm very upset.
I am trying very hard to get this situation resolved in my family, and trying very hard to not start any fights over it.
I deserve to have a clear and reasonable conversation with those who fail to believe me. I know the lie was well established, but I still have a right to own the truth of my own history, and the parenthood of my own son.
my hands are shaking and I need an excedrin.
******************************
originally posted may 1st, the day after my son's 44th birthday. one of my daughters suggested my sister likely posted the photo on that day to jab at me.
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