I M Perfect lady

Category: Examples of an Imperfect woman

  • With Change Comes Loss

    I heard on a podcast, that with change comes loss.  

    Doesn't that make sense?  

    I think harder than adding something new, is losing something old.

     

    Giving up a part of your life that has become comfortable, even in its discomfort.

     

    As our trees turn color, we are experiencing the change of seasons.  One season is over and it leaves, and a new one comes in.

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    We lose Summer for Fall.

    We can fight it in our minds, but nature changes – naturally.

     

    As we endeavor to change our lives, we may fail to recognize the grief of losing something, as we reach for something new.  

    In the waking up to my sexual abuse, I had to let go of the idea of who I thought my family was.

    Lost the cocoon of denial, for the sharp reality of truth.

    Letting go of the whole package of family and its dysfunctional wrapper, was by far harder to do, than reaching toward an unknown future.

    Behind me was a Me, I used to know as well. 

    With me as I changed was grief and uncertainty, and a self that was unfamiliar.

    The new pattern that I was hoping to bring into the generations after me, was knitted together by each action I took, each No spoken, and every relationship I challenged.

    Looking at the overview of my life, I can see that change truly does come with loss.

    Patterns are not changed without a loss.

     

    Which I believe is why most people don't change.  It isn't the new unknown future, but having to say good-bye to the old.

    Even if it is toxic, they know it and know how to navigate within it.

    You also know who you are,  even if it is a stressful role in a dysfunctional relationship.

     

    To walk away from all that you have known, and to allow yourself to be standing on a pinpoint of nothing is very scary.

    You cry for the past as you step into the unknown, a stranger to yourself.

     

    We find comfort in the knowing.

    And, it is very uncomfortable to not know who you are or where you are going, and do it anyway.

    Perhaps, in the case of abuse, it was easier to go, than it would be to stay.

    Once you know the landscape of abuse, and all its unrealities, and perceptions that are wrought with lies, it is impossible to stay and feel secure, or at peace – let alone loved.

     

    Walking as a person, who cast aside her past, in order to start a new pattern was overrun with emotions.

    My insides held the contrasting emotions of grief and freedom.

    The leaving was bitter sweet as they say.

     

    The woman I was, who drove the car, allowing my children to be with a pedophile, was horrifying to know. She had to go.  Her beliefs, thoughts and values, were not healthy. My resolve to change, and to redefine myself led the way.

    Once you are aware of your unawareness, you can no longer pretend to pretend to pretend, that being in the circle of abuse is okay, on any level.

    I was very strict in what I allowed or didn't allow.

    My new pattern's core was love and freedom, peace and joy. 

    First for myself, and then for others.

    Change isn't an overnight event.

    I had to slowly let the old me die, while birthing a new one.

    Saying good-bye and hello.

    The cost of not changing, was to repeat the abuse, by allowing it to happen – unchanged and yet knowing.

    What I believe causes most people to not react when they hear about an abuser they know, is that they don't want to lose what they have.

    Lose a family

    a friend.

    Lose a way of life, a church and faith, a familiarity and core of home – all of which holds a part of you.

     

    It isn't the abuse you are unwilling to let go; but yourself.

    It isn't seeing a new reality that terrifies, but that you may have to let yourself go and redefine a new you.

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    With change comes Loss.

     

    Abuse is passed on from generation to generation, mostly because we don't want to lose who we are and become someone we don't even know.

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Enough to leave

    The sentiment about estrangement, is often misread. It is believed, that we leave our families for a worse life. That we are choosing to live a life of pain and suffering, loneliness and grief. And, that there is no way life can rebound into something Better than being with family.

    Mostly, it is hard for many to wrap their minds around the idea that life being estranged IS better than life with family.

    What many fail to acknowledge is who we are leaving.

    Or, what we are giving up.

    And, even more, what we are gaining.

     

    Estrangement is complex, and typically happens when adult children recognize the toxicity of their childhoods.

    We are choosing love over hurt.

    We are not asking them to change, we are changing our lives.

     

    I did not leave a loving environment.

    I am not going from peace to into hell.

    I am not leaving the light for the dark.

     

    Estrangement is seen as being a negative.

    However, in my experience it has been positive.

     

    How can it not be?

     

    Not only for myself, but also for the generations behind me.

     

    It is up to each of us to decide what our legacy will be, how we live our lives, what our relationships will hold and how we live out our own truths.

    There is a direct correlation between choice and outcome.

    I love the laws of the universe, they will not be fooled.

     

    It is a drastic measure to leave family relationships behind.  That is the cost sometimes needed in order to feel love.

    Love of self.

    And, without that, you truly can't love anyone else.

     

    My landscape of estrangement is love.

     

    "How is that working for you", was a question thrown at me in derision by my brother.

    His view of my life is so completely different, than mine.

    His view of me, is not my view of me.

    Estrangement can be seen in two different ways, depending upon where you stand.

     

    It is working for me in countless healthy ways.

    Love, and being able to love, is the most remarkable.

     

    Estrangement often is the cost for love.

    How can you quantify that?

    To live among family without love, would not be living at all.

     

    And, to live with love so bright, it often hurts my eyes.

    I love love.

    I love that I can feel it deep in my cells for me.

    And, for those I love.

    I love that my love allows others to be free.

     

    Yes, estrangement is working well for me. I love its peace and its joy.  I love knowing that I can do hard stuff, that I have the courage to stand up for what is true for me. 

    I love that I can see my brother looking at me derision and even hate.

    I see him disproving of my life and me.

    It makes complete sense standing where we are standing.

    Loving what is.

    Estrangement is beautiful.

    My life is completely different than when I was part of the family. 

    I am completely different than when I was in my family circle.

    And, who I am today, is light years from whence I came.

    I love who I am, and I love my life.

    Estrangement is loving yourself enough to leave.

     

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  • Who I am Becoming

    When words are said to me, that are intended to hurt, it takes time to assimilate them in and then out, of my space.

    The words themselves were not shocking.

    The author of them was.

    The texting volley was so unlike him or the man I used to know.

    It said way more about him, than anything he intended me to feel.

    It takes time for me to re-adjust the truth of him.

     

    "People show you who they are believe them" Dr. Maya Angelou

     

    My greatest teacher is my mother.  

    I have challenged myself to be her opposite.

    So, it is an easy arrow to sling towards me to say that I am like her in various ways. He wanted me to feel like a failure.

    However his words did not feel true to who I am today. 

    I am living with the proof of my experience.

    I am not standing with my mother.

    The list is very long of where her and I differ.

     

    What we put out in the world, is what comes back to us.

    You simply cannot escape the consequences of what you give.

    We are all in charge of the energy we bring.

    What goes out, comes back; it is the laws of the Universe.

     

    There have been times, when I look back and wished I had just been an asshole, for it seemed my attention and interactions were all for naught. 

    I have to remind myself, how they respond to me, isn't mine to control. I am only responsible for what, I too, hand out. 

    The years I spent in a close sibling relationship with my brother I wasn't an asshole. I gave to him my authenticity in the kindest way I knew how.

    I can't even regret our last conversations where he felt abused. I gave, even then, my authenticity of being me. He and I challenged our truths as we worked together. 

    I didn't change the tune of our music together, but something changed.

     

    In his last few texts, he seemed a stranger I once knew.

     

    I have been challenged, that I don't like to engage when I am in the wrong.

    Again, my experience shows this is untrue.

    My first 46 years I lived wrong.

    I lived appeasing others and silencing my truth, in order to be part of a family.

    Me standing on the outside of family, is once again proof of righting my wrongs.

     

    "How's that working for you" was another barb that was intended for me.  Suggesting I was again failing at this 'new way of being Me'. 

    The last 14 years have been unlike the first 46.  

    I have been gifted with insights, truths, awareness, sorrows, heartache, and brilliant understanding of me, my trauma and its effects. I have been given the opportunity of another lifetime. To be a woman, I didn't even know existed.  To not have to become my mother.

    All the experiences, disappointments and exiting relationships, and speaking my truth, even if my legs were shaking, of knowing each time it came to the point of speaking or being silent, that I spoke and lost another friend/sibling – all these were creating me into a woman of substance, a character I am proud of.

    Becoming me wasn't an easy journey, but one that I would do again, it is working for me, but not so well for those who need me to be silent and away from my integrity.

    Once I am on a rant, I will also say, that I was blamed for being one of the first victims of my father and for not speaking out. I was blamed for being silent.  Then, I had a second chance to speak out and I did. I stood this time on the side of the victim. For my silence was for the abuser's peace. I had a second chance to be unlike my first 46 years, and still this isn't accepted with kindness.

    What I believe, is that no matter how I lived, I would be a disappointment and seen as a failure.  Can you truly live to satisfy another?

    What I am most grateful for is that I was granted the awareness and strong constitution to follow my own inner truth, even if, and especially when, it meant disappointing someone else.

    Each time I was building the scaffolding that held me up, until I had a strong enough core to be a free standing Me.

    To be the woman I needed my mother to be.

    I mothered myself by being a person I could count on.

    A person I trusted enough to always follow her truths.

     

    At the end of the day, we all lay our heads down, and we lay with our hearts. We live with the consequences of our choices. I am at peace with who I am becoming.

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  • Mental Lady

    I was asked about my intentions with my blog.  It was suggested that I blog to abuse the abused. 

     I went back to April of 2009 and found this post.

    When the Blog idea came to me, I could envision me being in contact with other women who found themselves outside the normal category of society.  Women who are in a place of either accepting their imperfections, their reality and learning how to live from there, or being a failure.

    What I found, in my own experience, was that if you live from the spot of being imperfect, there are no rules to follow, no norm to measure up to, no yardstick to fall short of.  Instead you are able to live life that is for you alone to decide if it works.  Now this doesn't mean that I am a rebel, but rather I am a free spirit in a loving way to myself and mankind.

    I would like to share my experiences of walking free of dysfunctional patterns, learning how to build up a new you, to the many wonderful Spiritual Authors who shed the Light upon the way.

    I would like this blog to inspire confidence, free spirit, and self love for woman who are lost in a sea of dysfunction and abuse.  I would like to be a voice of reason in their head full of madness.

    To show them that Imperfection is Perfection.  That it is impossible to strive to be someone else.  That all your experiences, your life to this point is exactly as it should be.  It is from this point that you can look back and learn from your past  to make a future that is more to your inner desire.

    There are no rules, except to be you.  You do what you do, for reasons that are strictly your own to decide.  It is the whole journey to go from being a free soul when we are born, to getting stuck in patterns of our childhood that hold on to us into adulthood, to one day stepping free again.

    I want freedom, free will, and love, peace and joy for all.  All who are stuck in a pattern of pain, hurt and without a sense of self.  Other than the self that serves others, while leaving them empty inside.

    We will see where this blog takes me….I am open to see what happens, to me and to all who participate in this.

    Thanks in advance for your openness as we explore life as a Spiritual Being on a human journey….or how a Soul seeks to experience itself." April 14, 2009

     

    Hmmm, this is a very long intention. However, I still agree with most of it.

     

    But, I have learned that it is a very rocky road to becoming Me.  And, it was my intention to be as authentic as I can, based on what I knew about myself. 

    I have learned so much in the past 10 years.

    I am stronger than I was when I first began.

    There is great courage to be gained, being vulnerable and showing the world your insides.

    I feel that I have wrestled with myself to find my own peace, love and joy. And, that it never required another person to change, but it indeed required much from me.

     

    A quote on Facebook fits this thought.

    "Authentic Spirituality is always about changing you. It's not about trying to change anyone else." Richard Rohr.

     

    I also had this posted in the first few days. And, I totally try and live this.  Even if I fail, it is a premise that is good to remember.

     

    "This is from A Thousand Names for Joy – Byron Katie

    "I don't know what is best for me, or you, or the world. I don't try to impose my will on you or anyone else.  I don't want to change you or improve you of convert you or help you or heal you. I just welcome things as they come and go. That's true love. The best way of leading people is to let them find their own way."

     

    Here is a poem I found my brother wrote for me. I posted it on 4/23/09

    Titled  - "Mental Lady"

    I see a lady,

    with bushy eyebrows and a faraway stare.

    Who would appear to be mental

    to you.

    She is not responsible for your thoughts

    about her.

    You are your thoughts,

    while appearing not be mental.

    Turn that around,

    Is that more true?

    Keep walking, keep walking,

    reality is walking away from you.

    Words,

    thoughts, and NO Action,

    scare her.

    She should appear mental

    to you.

    You do nothing and expect to be something.

    Something that moves her away from you.

    She can clearly see you,

    alone in your thoughts,

    that will form your beliefs,

    of your right religion.

    Your mind is right, of course,

    only from the left side

    of reality.

    How mental you appear

    to the lady who giggles, and

    is at one with nature,

    and reality.

    By Carl Huhta

     

    I am who I am.

    With out apology.

    See me mental

    or Imperfectly

    or, not at all.

     

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    I guess I didn't answer the question if I blogged to abuse the abused. It certainly isn't my intentions. I write to put a voice out there I wish I had.

  • You Chose

    I now know, that the silence (with my brother) happened after our conversations in regards to his life.  My opinions, words and sentiments, were stated in a way that he felt attacked and abused. It was both my delivery, my tone and the volume of words I used as well as what I was expressing myself about.  

    He asked for space from my words of attack.

    It was, and is, his personal life, so I will not go into details about what we were at odds with. 

    My writing on my blog, about him doing a 360 was also seen as an attack on his spiritual journey. 

     

    What I have learned is that we all view the world from our own vantage point. We see and hear things with our limited, and often traumatized, mind.  

    I can see how my words and opinions can hurt.

    I am responsible for my words.

    I am not responsible for how they are taken in.

    I am responsible for how I view the world and the people in it.

    I have often been proven wrong, and stand corrected.  

    I am also proven right, and more often than not, do not celebrate it.

     

    In all interactions, there is more than one side.

    Each of us gets to vote.

    We view ourselves, and perceive how others view us – within our own emotional and mental states.

     

    Words enter into the landscape of traumas, experiences, and history.

     

    There are sacred wounds and hidden triggers.  Which makes engaging with folks with past traumas exceptionally tricky.

     

    One of my mother's go to tools to show her anger was silence. There is no place to dialogue with silence. I only knew she was gravely upset.  Either with me or with someone else. More often than not, I came up with my own reasoning.  The thing that brought on the silence, was never talked about.  

    I used this tool for many years, it was my passive aggressive way to show I was unhappy. I didn't have to use words or bring in my emotions or address my feelings.

    I could leave them all deeply hidden and just remain silent.

    My husband and children knew I was upset.

    I shut them out.

     

    I am sure these things became, my buttons. Things you don't say or do, because if you do, mom will give you the silent treatment.

     

    What I eventually learned to do, was the opposite.

    To sit in the upsetting emotions and feelings, to make myself vulnerable to more pain, by being open.

    Open to being upset or disappointed in their actions towards me.

    More often than not, it was my own misperception of what happened. OR, even more, none of my business.

     

    My brother asked for space, which is silence.  And, I broke his asked for silence to inquire, after two years, if I had always been abusive to him, or just in the end.

    This breach was also felt as aggressive behavior. I had not honored his request.

    I believe he sees it as a healing modality for himself.  A place where he can protect himself from me, my words, my volume, my opinions, my attacks and be at peace.

     

    However, in my experience with silence, it has never worked to heal anything. It just gets shoved aside, buried underneath other things that are upsetting.

     

    In our last conversation, he was able to express where he felt attacked and how I was more or less an asshole.  

    He mentioned me in his book's dedication.

    The first line.

    "….for helping me through the darkest periods of my life." And, I told him he should have added a semi-colon; then, she became an abusive asshole.

     

    It makes most sense given our last 3 plus years.

    I can understand why you shut out abuse. That for sure is in my wheel house.

    Which is why I wanted to know if I had been abusive. For shutting out someone who is abusive makes sense to me. 

     

    What I don't know, is can you be abusive without knowing you are abusive?

    I know the times I was abusive, I felt I had the power over someone else, and misused that power. My children were the receivers of this most often. 

     

    Can you abuse someone without being the one with the most power?

    Did I have more power over my brother?

    Were my words being used to gain power?

    And, power over what?

     

    He was and is a free agent. 

    My greatest gift was to give everyone their power back. It freed them and Me.

    I love not having power over anyone.

     

    I would love to know if it is possible to be abusive without knowing it.

     

    Do I have power over others and not know it?

    I will have to sit with where my power is and how I use it.

    In my relationship with my brother, did I have more power?

    If so how?

    More power in what areas?

    As siblings, was my power being older?

    Abuse is always about power.

    I just can't see clearly how I wanted more power.

    What is power?

    "the capacity or ability to direct or influence the behavior of others or the course of events."

    Capacity or Ability to Direct or influence the behavior of others.

    Was I making him behave differently or directing the course of his life?

    I had zero power over his behavior.

    None.

    Nor, do I want to be the driver in his life, then or now.

    He is, and always was, on his own journey.

    Just as I said, I gave everyone their power back.  Whether it was real or perceived in my mind. You are not my responsibility.

    So, if this is the case, I was not abusive, for I had no power.

     

    Then the next question is, can you feel abused, even if the other person has no power over you?

    Is it possible that you have given them more power in your life?

    That they were, and are, more responsible than you, in how your life turns out.

    Can you make yourself a victim by putting someone else in the power seat?

     

    In my life, the church and my mother had more power over than I did. Actually many others as well. It left me powerless.

    When I took my power back, they no longer controlled my life.

    They no longer had the capacity or ability to direct or influence my behavior or the course of events in my life.

    I was driving my life for the first time at 46.

    I had my power back.

     

    That feeling is unlike any other, when you are, as Wayne Dyer said, "Beyond the good opinion of others."

    If I had a gift to give to others, it would be to be empowered.

    To be a sovereign person.

    Which is why I am the opposite of being abusive. I don't want your power. I want you to have power in your life. I want you to feel the freedom that comes with being self governed. I want you to be your own guru.

    I want others to feel self love and self empowerment, the joy and freedom to be themselves.

    You are at your most powerful state when you need nothing.

    In fact, it is said, that the one with the most power in any relationship is the one who cares the least.

    The more you care about how others feel the less powerful you are.

    In the end, I can't control how my brother now sees me.

    It is within his power to see me in any way he does.

    He is free to see me as an asshole.

    I can see why you would say that.

    You have the power to see me in any way you chose.

     

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  • Empty of Discrepancy

    One of the side effects of a recovering person from denial, is how I need things to make sense.  I can no longer overlook incongruity. My mind isn't a rest until it knows the whole picture.

    I am looking to find definition and gain a clear picture. 

    I am not sure how often there are exceptions to the rule, but more often than not, the rules rule.

    And, the exceptions are often red flags.

    The dissonance that will shatter an image.

    Often in families where abuse lives, there are images we need to keep.  It is the coverup to what is really going on.  We don't present to the world the whole truth, we keep our wounds hidden behind the facade of being normal and okay.

    I lived in this wonky world for 46 years, where the facade lived as me. It wasn't me, just the image of Me.  

    A cleaner version.

    A flat shallow self.

    And, she didn't make sense, looking back.

    It was only when I knew the truth about my family of origin, did I make sense.

    Living life for 46 years denying the truth of being abused, had me living awkwardly at best.

    I was detached from my emotions, and expansiveness of choice.

    Once the truth was known, and I embraced my wounded little girl, was I able to drop the shield (Image) and just be me.  

    This one very pivotal moment in my life showed me how gravely important it is to get the full picture and to not overlook the one exception.

    I am now an exception.

    The one unforgiven, the one story that hasn't been fully accepted by my brother.

    He wrote a book, and is in the very early stages of promotion.

    It is a book about the time he and I spent oodles of hours talking, and exploring, and seeking to find reality, and ways to rework life's patterns of being raised in an dysfunctional home.

    His book is mainly his blog. "The Little Boy in the Red Sweater – My journey through sexual abuse."

    The incongruity is where am I now?

    How did I go from being the one who helped him through the darkest periods of life, to silence?

    What did I do?

    Our silence hasn't included dialogue to clearly explain to me, where I went wrong.

    What was it that kicked me to the curb?

    What did I say exactly that was so unforgivable and how is his story of me more powerful than who I am?

    And even more, why has he been able to reconcile with the rest of his family?

    How is it that I am unreconcilable?

    What are my sins and assaults towards him.

    And, how does his image of being so forgiving, not include me?

    I am the one stick poking out.

    I don't make sense in his otherwise healing image.

    It is odd to be the odd man out. 

    What I have learned is that when the bird and the book disagree, believe the bird – as the Audubon bird book explains.

    Strange bedfellows is another phrase that we use to explain the unexplainable. 

    I looked that up and found this.

    “Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows."

    How interesting.

    Does this explain the other saying "Misery loves company"?

    All I know is that I am still outstanding from my family.  A book is written, the sentiment is healing/forgiving and accepting the story of who they are and not his story of who he needs them to be.

    And, here I am.

    Alone.

    While I am out here, his book doesn't make sense.

    To me.

    The years we spent together, the talks we had and the topics we discussed, wasn't heading in the direction he ended up. It all feels inharmonious.

    It was as if he did a 360 and ended up where he once began. Except he left me behind.

    His blog I had read in real time during the crisis of that day.

    His book is an echo from the days back there.

    I know the broader landscape upon which it was written, but I don't know where or how it ended.

    I am suspended in a moment in time.

    Silenced out and space was granted to me.

    In an interview, he said he asked for space from his family for his healing.

    I wonder why he needed space from me.

    I am the exception to the rule.

    I am the irreconcilable piece in our relationship.

     

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    When folks get a divorce over irreconcilable differences, we think it is things. Mostly, I am sure it is that someone feels the other as being incongruous.

    Their lives are no longer in harmony.

    Someone has changed.

    It is true, I am the one person in my family of origin who is no longer like the others.

    I no longer fit into their lives, for personal reason, most didn't share with me.

    Yet, I am okay. 

    I am okay being at odds with others.

    I am not okay being at odds with myself.

    I lived far too many years in dissonance with Me.

    I love who I am today, so much more.

    I live in harmony with my little girl.

     

    I wish my brother well on his new journey of being an author.

    He is the author of his blog, his book and his life.

    As we all are.

    May your life be empty of discrepancy.

     

     

     

     

  • Facade of life

    In talking to a friend, I was shown how we can't see what we can't see, even though we see it.

    The definition of denial.

    How we are actually responding and acting with a red flag, but perhaps can't see its color OR know what it is.

    Hard to explain, how living in dysfunction, set me up to not see it.

    How even the level of mental illness that ran through our family seemed just average. Well, perhaps a person with idiosyncrasies – just odd habits.

    Or to label them unkind or selfish etc, and not realizing the very nature of their mental wellness IS the dysfunction.

    Not being able to fully engage with your emotions and feelings allowing you to be not only kind to others, but to first love you.

     

    In my family, I never remember there being a discussion about our mental well being. What would be better for us or what more, is wounding us.  Even who is unstable and why.

    And secondly, we were not show self love. 

    Based on this, how do you know what a mental illness looks like, if it was never called that? And, what do you know about loving yourself.

    How can you discern these odd characteristics as being components to mental illness?

    I lived in denial that I was in denial.

    My brother and I used to cal this a double blind or sometimes we even had a triple.

    I also think, we subjectively see the world through our own mental wellness.

    We see as broad as our closed mind is open.

     

    While I have written adnauseam about dysfunction, I wasn't seeing it clearly or perhaps from a far.

    It is trying to find normal in an abnormal environment and not recognizing it is impossible.

    Can a mental person see their own mentalness clearly?

    Will your mental mind be a huge blockage to knowing this?

     

    How can I see my own mental mind, with a mind that was raised in dysfunction, am I not handicapped to do so?

    Who do we rely upon to tell us what is mental wellness?

    Is there even such a thing?

     

    What brings me love, joy and peace, may not bring someone else the same.

    Being back with my family may bring my brother emotions, that are the opposite of mine, who can tell what is right for either of us?

    Is there a neutral zone, where it is better for us to remain, compared to other relationships that cause us stress?

    I can't know the deeper ideals of mental stability, but I can know what I tolerate or what brings me great stress.

    My body is the barometer of what my mind can hold.

     

    What is also weird to me, is that prior to my breakout from denial, I denied my feelings and my mind was at peace.  Peace, being it didn't really want to know the truth. My mind was okay having my body feel the stress and shut down.

    Now, that my mind knows the truth, it and my body are in harmony.

    The disconnect is now connected.

     

    What I often fail to appreciate, is that there were many experiences coming from my family home, and we were not all raised the same, nor did we experience it the same.

    What I call dysfunction is just normal.

    Even above normal.

    Where they can feel that their forgiving attitude and dropping the justified resentments, seems like love.

    It is love to them.

    Do we not all have our own definitions of love.

    Yet, some love will have emotional and mental ramifications upon the human condition.

    What I know for sure, is that my experiences is a unique and different experience.

    My love of self requires me to act in ways others may find mental.

    And, I may find mental how others live in their relationships.

     

    Coming from denial I live in as much transparency as I can muster. I strive to see that which I can't see. I want to fully embrace the total picture as much as my mind can allow.

    I feel most well being, when all things align.

    When reality and my mind and body agree.

    If one things is unsettled, I know there is something I am missing.

     

    The biggest red flag in dysfunctional homes, is not seeing the red flags.

    My childhood was littered with red and I was color blind.

    Even my adult years there were flags leading back to abuse, and yet I was unaware.

     

    I am grateful we are learning more and more about mental illnesses and perhaps to see we are all on the spectrum. That even in one day, we slip and slide on the scale of normal.

    The bottom line, is a good life is one where you can live out loud your feelings, emotions and desires.  Where you are not pretending to pretend you are you. Living a facade of a life.

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  • The Mastery of Love

    This week I listened to "Don Miguel Ruiz" on Maria Shriver's podcast "Meaningful Conversations".

    What I loved about the podcast is, it is the author speaking about the book, "The Mastery of Love" and he is doing so with someone who is more or less skeptical and disbelieving.

     

    I had the book "The Mastery of Love" and I read it years ago.  This time however, it makes so much more sense to me, especially after listening to their conversation.

    Here is a part of the book.

    "So many humans are suffering because of all the false images we try to protect. Humans pretend to be something very important, but at the same time we believe we are nothing. We work so hard to be someone in that society Dream, to be recognized and approved by others. We try so hard to be important, to be a winner, to be powerful, to be rich, to be famous, to express our personal dream, and to impose our dream onto other people around us. Why?  Because humans believe the Dream is real, and we take it very seriously."

    It is interesting to see life with this perspective, especially when we pretend to be something, while feeling we are nothing. The contrast itself is enough to spin your world into madness.

     

    And, I love this part too.

    "The emotional body perceives emotions, but not through the eyes. We perceive emotions through our emotional body.  Children just feel emotions and their reasoning mind doesn't interpret or question them. This is why children accept certain people and reject other people. When they don't feel confident around someone, they reject that person because they can feel the emotions that person is projecting. Children can easily perceive when someone is angry and their alarm system generates a little fear that says, "Stay away". And they follow their instincts – they stay away."

    "We learn to be emotional according to the emotional energy in our home, and our personal reaction to that energy. That is why every brother and sister will react differently according to how they learn to defend themselves and adapt to different circumstances. When parents are constantly fighting, when there is disharmony, and disrespect, and lies, we learn the emotional way of being like them. Even if they tell us not to be that way and not to lie, the emotional energy of our parents, of our entire family, will make us receive the world in a similar way."

    "The emotional energy that lives in our home is going to tune our emotional body to that frequency. The emotional body starts to change its tune, and it is no longer the normal tune of the human being. We play the game of the adults, we play the game of the outside dream, and we lose. We lose our innocent, we lose our freedom, we lose our happiness, and we lose our tendency to love. We are forced to change and we start receiving another world, another reality; the reality of injustice, the reality of emotional pain, the reality of emotional poison. Welcome to hell – the hell that humans create, which is the Dream of the Planet. We are welcomed into that hell, but we don't invent it personally. It was here before we were born."

    "You can see how real love and freedom are destroyed by looking at children. Imagine a child two and three years old running and having fun in the park. Mom is there watching the little guy, and she's afraid he might fall and hurt himself. At a certain point she wants to stop him, so he tries to run faster from her. Cars are passing in the street nearby, which makes Mom even more afraid, and finally she catches him. The child is expecting her to play and she spanks him. Boom! It's a shock. The child's happiness was the expression of love coming out of him and he does not understand why she is acting this way. This is a shock that stops love little by little over time. The child does not understand words, but even so he can question, "Why?"  

    "Running and playing is an expression of love, but it's no longer safe because your parents punish you when you express your love. They send you to our room and you cannot do what you want to do. They tell you that you are being a bad boy, or a bad girl, and that puts you down, that means punishment."

    "In that system of reward and punishment there is a sense of justice and injustice, what is fair and what is not fair. The sense of injustice is like a knife that opens an emotional wound in the mind. Then, according to our reaction to the injustice, the wound may get infected with emotional poison. Why do some wounds get infected? Let's look at another example."

    "Imagine that you are two or three years old. You are happy, you are playing and exploring. You aren't conscious of what is good, what is bad, what is right, what is wrong, what you should be doing and what you shouldn't be doing, because you are not domesticated. You are playing in the living room with whatever is around you. You don't have any bad intention, you don't try to hurt anything, but you are playing with your Daddy's guitar. For you, its' just a toy; you don't try and hurt your Daddy at all. But your father is having on of those days when he doesn't feel right. He has problems in his business, and he goes into the living room and finds you playing with his things. He gets mad right away, and grabs you and spanks you."

    "This is injustice from your point of view. Your father just comes, and with anger hurts you. This is someone you trusted completely because he is your daddy, someone who usually protects you and allows you to be you. That sense of injustice is like a pain in your heart. You feel sensitive, it hurts and makes you cry. But you cry not just because he spanks you. Its not the physical aggression that hurts you; it's the emotional aggression you feel is not fair. You didn't do anything."

    "That sense of injustice opens a wound in your mind. Your emotional body is wounded, and in that moment you lose a little part of your innocence.  You learn that you cannot trust your father. Even if your mind doesn't know it yet, because your mind doesn't analyze, it still understands, "I cannot trust." Your emotional body tells you there is something that you cannot trust, and that something can be repeated."

    "You reaction might be fear; your reaction might be anger or being shy or just crying. But that reaction is already emotional poison, because the normal reaction before domestication is that your daddy spanks you and you want to hit him back. You hit him back or just intend to put your hand up, and that makes your father even madder at you. The reaction of your father for just putting your hand up against him creates a worse punishment. Now you know he will destroy you. Now you are afraid of him, and you no longer defend yourself because you know it will only make things worse."

    "You still don't understand why, but you know your father can even kill you. This opens a fierce wound in your mind. Before this, your mind was completely healthy; you were completely innocent. After this, the reasoning mind tries to do something with the experience. You learn to react a certain way, your personal way. You keep that emotion with you, and it changes your way of life. This experience will repeat itself more often now. The injustice will come from Mom and Dad, from brothers and sisters, from aunts and uncles, from school, from society, from everyone. With each fear, you learn to defend yourself, but not the way you did before domestication, where you would defend yourself and just keep playing."

    "Now there is something inside the wound that at first is not a big problem; emotional poison. The emotional poison accumulates, and the mind begins to play with that poison. Now we start to worry a little about the future because we have memory of the poison  and we don't want that to happen again. We also have memories of being accepted; we remember mom and dad being good to us and living in harmony. We want harmony, but we don't know how to create it. And because we are inside the bubble of our own perception, whatever happens around us now seems as if it is because of us. We believe Mom and Dad fight because of us, even if it doesn't have anything to do with us."

    "Little by little we lose our innocence; we start to feel resentment, then we no longer forgive. Over time these incidents and interactions let us know its not safe to be who we really are. Of course this will vary in intensity with each human according to his intelligence and his education. It will depend on many things. If you are lucky, the domestication is not that strong. But if you are not so lucky, the domestication can be strong and the wounds so deep, that you can eve be afraid to speak. This results is "Oh I am shy," Shyness is the fear of expressing yourself. You may believe you don't know how to dance or how to sing, but this is just expression of the normal human instinct to express love." Miguel

     

    This is how we learn to not love who we are, not trust who we are, not have a voice or a choice.  

    I find this wildly enthralling how we are who we are by how we were nurtured or domesticated in his words.

    Knowing your past and how it has worked to shape you, you cannot blame yourself if you are having a hard time being you.

    However, if we were taught this, we can unlearn what we were taught.

    The untangling of my love of self, literally happened each time I used my voice or made an action for myself, instead of for the other. I was willing to do what I needed to do, regardless of the punishment that would come.

    What is so odd, is that I also felt I had 'unreasonable' fear of my father and my mother as well. Yet, this writing shows how we suffer emotional wounding and how it infects our emotions. As well as how we hide our real emotions in order to make peace

    I used to say, I was a whore for love and peace. I can see this more clearly in how I thought I had to be.

    When we are raised in a dysfunctional toxic environment, we are unlucky in our domestication, and lose touch with our inner child.  Lose connection with our healthy emotional responses.

    We can peel back our fears and learn to love ourselves, but we may piss off a few folks in order to do so. We have to learn it is okay if others are upset. It isn't our responsibility to make them happy.

    Being a master of our own emotions, is the mastery of love.

     

     

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  • Not to lose it.

    There is a thought, that when we leave the church, we then become "lost souls".  And I can understand how this image appears in their minds. 

    However, I am quite certain there are also found souls.  

    Souls who have found themselves by eliminating the middleman.  By stepping out in the world, beyond religion.

    It is scary, and very freeing, at the same time.

    The hardest part is that we are often seen as detached and perhaps 'unsaved' or, a foreigner in their land.

    We become the 'other'.  

    Whereas prior we were one of them.  Often categorized as "the right church" or the "True" religion, part of God's church and his saved children, etc.

    It is like you are going from the popular group, to the unpopular group; from the chosen to the unchosen.

    We have chosen now to be 'unsaved' or, willing to be in hell and not heaven.

     

    I truly do not feel lost at all.

    Or, unsaved.

    Or, that I am heading to hell when I die.

     

    It is weird to be out on your own in the world unaffiliated.

    To live life as a free agent.

    I am sure it is as strange to see us without a religion, as it is for some of us, to see them with one.  

    There are two different schools of thought, and we are no longer matching.

     

    Some, who have never tried living life without a religion, find it very hard and even unimaginable to be living without one.

     

    It was a foreign concept to me too.

    As I said, it is a very scary process to leave the religion of your childhood.  Or, to leave the path that feels secure and so inclusive by God and others. 

    To have none of the old reassurances about life and death.

    To dare and step off the path, into the land of the unknown.

    Into the same land that is preached against.

    We are walking among what many would now call "Unbelievers".

    Or, lost souls.

    And, to be sure, I did feel lost at the beginning. Until I realized that God didn't live in the church.  And, I wasn't only valuable with a the religion franchise.

    Perhaps it was when I discovered I didn't leave God behind, it became less scary.

     

    I can understand the sentiment, that I would be lost without religion. For it does appear to be the truth, when you feel so identified with the religion.  

    It was a huge identifier of who I was, until it wasn't.

    I would even say, in my case, it stole my identity.

    It was more me, than Me.

    My individual thoughts and desires were drowned out by the religion's preferences.

    I found me underneath the layers of beliefs.

    And, I also found, that my life didn't run amuck, when I no longer believed in the faith.

    I wasn't walking hand and hand with the devil.

    I didn't become evil, etc.

    I actually became more thoughtful and present. 

    I am eager to see how others see the world and even death.

    I am open to learning new ways of spirituality.

    I am less judgmental and more inquisitive about other ways of life.

    And, just plain curious to the human journey and how we are nurtured into different faiths and how they have impacts on how we live and see others.

    I am learning how often religion is given, or forced upon us as children and spirituality something we can discover on our own.  

    Spirituality isn't franchised either.

    Religion is often fear based. Fear of what will happen if you leave or when you die etc.

    Spirituality feels more about the present and true self.

    It is true I have lost the connection I felt within the church.

    I have lost the respect.

    I have lost the faith in their message.

    I have lost the trust in their actions.

    I have lost the belief in their way.

    But, I did not lose my soul when leaving there.

    I feel that I have found it.

    I did not realize the weight and burden of the religion until I set it down

    The sheer load of unworthiness or the identifier of 'sinner' dragged me down.

    Outside of this belief I found my self worth.

    In fact, oddly the sentiments of the religion about Self, mirrored or echoed the feelings of abuse.

    Perhaps because I discovered my abuse the same time I left the church, I could see the connection being equal.

    Regardless, I within myself, felt my soul's worth outside of the religion.

    The correlation between the dysfunctional family and how I needed to be and how I was viewed when I challenged its beliefs, equaled that of the religious community.

    The two most powerful sources that created my self worth, were both equally dysfunctional.

    So, when I hear that I am a lost soul or perceived as one, I would have to say, my soul was lost both in my family and religion.  

    However, once I stepped into my own power and began to see and challenge things, I found it.

    It stood with me as I walked into the dark.

    I was never alone upon leaving.

    Perhaps even, I had to leave both places because they were hurting my soul.

    I didn't lose my soul for leaving, but rather was led by my soul.

    We walked together into the unknown.

    Knowing that what we were leaving no longer, if ever, was healthy for my spirit.

    I left to save my soul, not to lose it.

     

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  • Right to Criticize Me

    Mostly I blog or write on here to sort out my mind, and to place unanswered questions, I write to unscramble frustrations.  I am doing this mostly for me.  And, most often by the end of the blog, I have a new awareness.

    Sometimes, I just want the record of the days news or history or to keep a new understanding written down.

    I want evidence, if you will, how prevalent sexual abuse is within church communities, how I am NOT the anomaly that many accused me of being.

    Perhaps I too, want my voice to be heard, in my voice.

    To write what most won't listen to.

    I write about my experiences, and my insights, and my viewpoint.

    I write to bring to light to an area that has been in the dark.

    That operates in the dark.

    That needs there to be silence and no one talking about it.

    Where no one challenges the faithful.

    I am willing to get the flack for speaking out.

    Which is why so many are silent.

    I want to be the prod to make others think differently.

    For I could have used a prod years ago.

    Someone has to be the one to speak up.

    To ask the tough questions.

    To be willing to be seen as 'short sighted' or how little I know.

    I deleted a Facebook post, which I should have kept.

    It is amazing how they will come full guns upon me, instead of going where the real trouble is.

    That church isn't about Man.

    Really?

    It is about God.

    Yet, the man is who is in the churches sexually abusing.

    You have to put your God down for a moment and deal with this.

    God isn't going anywhere.

    What I am trying to tell you all, is that while you are worshiping your God, Man is running around abusing the children. 

    What can we do about this?

    What can you do?

    The sheer frustration to me, is that you will continue to worship and go and see God, regardless of what is going on underneath.

    The underneath needs attention.

    It needs you to stop and refocus your attention.

    God can take care of himself, the children cannot.

     

    I can't even begin to remember my old faith, the way I was unwilling to place anything before it. I can't know what would have shook me out of that faithfulness. Well, what did was my niece saying Grandpa touched me.

    It was abuse within my family.

    And, perhaps the closeness that echoed in me.

    But, what will it literally take.

    Hollering back at me is not the answer.

    Belittling me isn't going to work neither.

     

    What do I know.

    I know, that if you the truly faithful continue on being faithful, it doesn't affect the lives of the abused.

    What I needed as a child, were church members to be horrified.

    To not keep up the image of the goodness of the church.

    I needed them to get rid of the darkness it operated within.

    I needed light upon what was making us all traumatized.

    I needed the good christians to have been more concerned about the children than their relationship with God.

     

    There has to be a way for you all to keep your God and to protect the children.

    There has to be answers.

    A new way.

    As I have said a thousand times before, you can't keep doing what the generations before you did, and expect things to change.

    Abuse isn't going to stop itself.

    Abusers will not decide one day to stop abusing.

    Children are being molested and we have to find ways to not be co-conspirators by our inactions.

     

    I walked out of my church.

    I walked out of my family.

    I didn't do these things because I hated God.

    I didn't leave God, I left due to the fact that abuse wasn't being dealt with, at all.

    In fact, the very nature of the church's business was to forgive the 'sins' abuse that the perpetrators did upon the children.

    This was too much for me to handle.

    I didn't leave my family cause I stopped loving them.

    I left because their actions were not going to stop abuse from happening again.

     

    I needed to change what I was doing, in order to be the end of the abuse cycle in my life.

     

    I can't see how doing the same thing you did prior to knowing of the abuse, will affect change.

    I can't, and I can't not speak out to women who are perplexed and outraged at the volume of abuse, and YET, they are not making life changes in their own lives.

    I get it.

    Change is hard.

    Looking deeply into what is going on and how your actions may or may not be a contributing factor is hard. But, WHO IS GOING TO STOP ABUSE?

    It feels like the apathy is winning.

    The faithful are remaining faithful.

    How is it going to be stopped?

    I have been told repeatedly to keep speaking out, keep being brave, keep having the courage and to keep this blog going.

    Really?

    To what end?

    What changes have others made in their lives that will stop the cycles from picking up speed.

    The numbers in the catholic church that have been exposed, by a few States doing the investigating, are the tip of the iceberg in that religion.

    That religion.

    That one religion.

    What about the others.

    What about the church you attend?

    What about within the circle of your friends and community?

    What are you willing to give up to save a child from having to experience trauma?

    Go ahead and blast me, I don't care.

    I have had more wrath than I ever expected to be sent my way for speaking up.

    But, at the end of the day, you all sit with your actions, your God and your religion.

    You get to see how your life is preventing abuse or enabling it.

    I am not mad, I am frustrated more at the non-abusing folks than at the abusers almost.

    It takes a village to keep the darkness dark.

    My one blog isn't loud enough to shake the foundations upon which you all stand.

    What will topple the cycles of abuse?

    What will make it harder for abusers to abuse?

    Will it matter to them if you are diligently worshiping your God?

    Will it matter to them if you are keeping the family close and unchallenged?

    Will it matter to them if they see how you forgive and forget?

    Know, that the abusers are watching you.

     

    And more, the children are watching you too.

    What will they see you doing?

    I can't know, if I have done enough to stop abuse in my family's tree, from my life. From the lives of my children and grandchildren.

    I can't know if what I have done is enough.

    Or, what more can I do.

    I can know is that I am trying

    I am sharing how abuse is seen from the eyes of a victim.

    What is helpful and then not helpful.

    I can be outspoken in my life and hope that at the very least, there are no dark places.

    Will my new pattern be enough?

    Will there be more generations beneath me who is still abused?

    Will what I have done, matter?

    I believe, based on what I needed my mother to do, that it is a start in the right direction.

    I am doing what I wished would have been done for me.

    At the very least, look at your pattern, your cycle and see if there are changes from when you were a child. 

    As I sit here today, as I sit here with myself, I am at peace that I have tried.

    I have done what I can to change the pattern in the cycle of abuse within my life span.

    I can only affect my life.

    Each of you will have to do the same within your own life cycles.

    This blog has not been for naught.

    It has allowed me the space to unravel and old pattern and reconstruct a new one.

    The me who began this blog was not the me who is sitting here today.

     I M perfect, and it is impossible not to be.

    This is my rendition of trying to stop the cycle of abuse.

    Certainly there were places I could have done better, but at least I am in the arena trying to wrestle this beast.  

    Only those in the arena with me have the right to criticize me.

    "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. Theodore Roosevelt