I M Perfect lady

Tag: dysfunction

  • Reconnected with my Soul.

    I wondered about knowing your own self worth…is it possible to be full of great wisdom, love, compassion, caring, etc and not know it?  Can a person really not see themselves and their gifts?  Where does self worth come from and how is it so easily overlooked?

    What is self worth?  Is it to see your self with your own eyes and can you do this objectively, or is there a flimy residue of past neglect covering you up?

    I have read that children see themselves through their parent's eyes….(in Alice Miller's books). That how our mother's look at us, is how we learn to see ourselves.

    Is that true?

    But, I also have witnessed people who were abused, and how they see themselves as only valuable when they are 'in use' by others. That they themselves have very little use for themselves in their own life. Their value lies strictly in how much other people need them.

    So, if you come from a very self absorbed mother who didn't see you, you will not see your self either.  And, if your father abused you, HE seen you as his desire…not yours.

    I just wonder when or how we get to our own view of self?

    What has to happen before we can see our own self worth?

    I guess for me, it was when I could clearly see I wasn't seen.

    I felt completely worthless in their eyes.

    I was reduced to nothing.

    I then had to re-build myself.

    My sense of self worth was an inside job and often times I was rediculed by others, and hollered at for choices I made while creating a self that was worth something.

    Even today, this self I now have, isn't always accepted or appreciated or even liked, by others, let alone understood, but inside, the way I see me…I like me.  I love my strength and convictions, my knowings and my feelings.  I am a peace with who I am.  I feel worthy, being me.

    My old view was with my mother's eyes and my worth, was how I was used…and I discovered I was solely used by her to keep her story going, to keep her 'family' together, to keep abuse far and wide from our lives, while abuse worked behind the scenes stealing the worth of each and every child.

    My mother had wrote about me, "Picking up the stragglers" in our family….like my task was to make things 'right' after the damage was done, to fix things, to make them okay again.  And, if I failed, I wasn't giving enough, trying hard enough, doing enough.

    I recall one night laying in my bed and feeling the enormity of their (my parent's) damage, how it not only affect our lives, but our childrens lives.  How it was so far beyond my reach of fixing…sobbing, shaking to the point of losing it, I let it all go.

    Let go of my responsibility for fixing the mess I did not create.

    I disappeared…for I was shown how helpless I really was…without a use. 

    Not only was I abused, but I wasn't going to be able to fix anyone…

    Abuse's insidious energy had completely overwhelmed our family….leaving behind worthless feelings, rising against guilt and shame.  And yet, they (siblings) rallied on, working to make their family right by not seeing yet again…or seeing it through my mother's eyes.

    The cycle completes itself.  Children who are not seen, will not see their children.

    Children who are not seen have no value…unless they are fixing their parents lives.

    This spinning hurricane of worthlessness not stopping…just seemingly to gain more energy as they worked to keep our family 'right'.

    While they were busy shoring up my father's/mother's life, they neglected to see, yet again, their own.

    Their sense of self worth is extracted by what they do for others…never minding at what cost to themselves.

    My journey could be classified with this quote,  "The path into light seems dark, the path forward seems indirect, the direct path seems long…the greatest love seems indifferent, the greatest wisdom seems childish."

    Is the journey recovering your own self worth?

    Who is responsible for it?

    Where will you find it?

    How will you know it?

    When I seen my worth in my mother's eyes, I knew how empty I was…I had done very little for me.

    I have spent the last 8 years filling up my self.


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    For, if your only value is outside of yourself, you can only see you in their eyes.  It will be impossible to see your self, for you eyes are always turned outward to find your worth.

    My own eyes could not see me.  I only judged me by how others reacted or needed me.  They owned me and gave me value.

    And, coming from dysfunction or abuse or co-dependent living, you will have to disappoint and become value less in their eyes in order to regain your worth.

    "If I gained the world…but, lost the Savior…" comes to mind.  I reconnected with my Soul.



  • Your Own Life.

    The heeling of a dog on a leash is the perfect analogy of how I was raised and then how I raised my own children.  

    Certainly there is no real leash, but the feelings of being led around are very present.

    You are unable to move freely without a struggle and face the wrath of the leash holder; for it is expected you follow their lead.

    It goes much easier if the one on the leash has no voice or choice or mind of their own…mindlessly follow.  

    Breaking them in, beating them down, taking away their freedoms begins very early on.  We put them in leashes as little children…and they are taught to follow, not lead.

    And it certainly makes a difference if you are on the leash or holding the leash in your hand.

    Holding the leash in your hand, you don't want the person on the Leash to fight you, but to heel and acquiesce…

    I shudder at the way I raised my children, to be nice folks on a leash, to 'go along' without confrontation, to 'respect' authority, to be a good boy/girl; I showed them how best to live FOLLOWING me…rarely did they get to run free.  

    Well, they were free in the things I didn't care about….or would reflect back to me. But mostly I had a strong hand on the leash and expected and needed them to act a certain way.

    What is also very haunting is that when I took off their leashes, they didn't believe they were gone.  

    They didn't immediately go and run freely and make choices on their own…OR certainly didn't feel comfortable going against me….they were waiting for me to jerk back their chain and get them quickly back into MY choice.

    And in the past, being a good girl on the leash elicited loving praise from me.  I liked it when they did what I wanted without a fight.  And when they didn't I hollered until they obeyed…got back in line, behind me.

    Once free, they didn't know where the love would be found.

    In the past fighting the leash, love was withdrawn and my anger arose full force…love was delivered if you quietly went along.

    So, when you take of the constrictions and constraints, they don't know how to judge their own actions…or mine…and now what does love mean? Or where do you get it???

    Removing the force from the relationship left us all in an odd place.

    I didn't know how to mother letting kids do as they wanted….any more than my kids knew how to be free kids.

    It took time, like six years and counting to undo the damage of the leash.

    When you are praised and loved for not fighting for your own feelings and life…you feel its unloving to embrace your own set of values, feelings and choices.  It seems harsh and angry NOT to follow the woman with the leash in her hand.

    What was so interesting in my life, was that I was learning how to be off the leash with my mother, while I was letting my children's leashes go.

    I was able to see what I needed and could give the same to my children. For you can't just unleash yourself from your family of origin, and keep your children on a leash.  

    The disconnection has to be complete…no leashes and total freedom to move. If you are still holding the leash, you are both prisoner to the dysfunction…and the legacy continues.

    This was perhaps the hardest lesson to navigate; to restore freedom in my family.  Oh it was hard won…and stilll continues to be.

    I have the unnatural instincts to control and to want everyone moving with me.  Leash lifestyle is comfortable for me…all moving as one.

    I feel anxious at times and unloved when they leave and do things that are not what I choose to do…forgetting that love is freedom.

    My mind still has a hard time without a leash in my hand….although, I am way fine with having removed mine from my mother's hand.

    Imagine in order for me to be free, I had to cut the leash and move away from my mother.  She didn't set me free, untie the leash and wish me well…instead she feels unloved now that I am free.

    Her feelings of Love was to have me on her leash…ME doing what makes her feel good, loved, happy…it had nothing to do with me.

    The hollow hole that is left when you leave the leash is almost unbearable, for you realize that all of the things you did for love was all for naught.  Sacrificing your freedom and self in order to win her love, was in and of itself abuse.  She didn't love you, she controlled you.

    And while giving up your life to be controlled you believed you had piles of love to relax upon….for you had given so Much…only to find nothing there.  Just cold piles of giving up…a cold and empty life.

    There is no life filled with love once the leash is gone.  Once the leash is gone, you are alone and separated, lost and unsure, but free.  

    It is then, that you begin to have your own life.  

     

     

     

     

  • I need nothing from Christmas.

    What I haven't realized until it was gone, are the feelings of heaviness and weight of the added stress of holidays…What I had thought was extra work, was actually being slammed by feelings.

    Feelings come alive and merge and meld in multitude of ways during this 'Family' time.

    If you have reconciled all your feelings, trimming the tree is just trimming the tree….there is no hidded wound it has to fill, no making you feel 'overbright'.

    When I hadn't come to terms with all my feelings or felt truthfully all that I had felt, It seemed like I was being scrambled by the holidays, that they were forcing me to do things I didn't want to do or were exposing things I didn't want exposed.  And during this family time, well, we had just damn well better be a family!

    It was trying to bend into the Spirit of the Holiday with feelings that didnt' match.  

     

    I have come to terms with the new me…and feel okay, settled and the Holidays are not asking anything of me…or putting me in a position that brings up feelings that I don't like.  And I have no false expectations of Christmas making a family that isn't already there.

    I am not sure I can put to words the absence of my feelings being pulled and prodded; where hidden in each 'tradition' lay a sword that could split me in two.

    I had three Christmas filled days and nothing bite me.  Nothing felt bad or overburdened and sad, no Blue Christmas….tones floated in.

    I am not sure I have ever had a Christmas minus awkward feelings of something.

    The childhood expectations always were left wanting…when I was young, and I thought I was seeking a better gift, when what I actually sought was to live in a space free of expectations…perhaps expectations that were impossible to deliver.

    Christmas had to deliver to me what the rest of the year failed to do.

    Without expectations, there is zero stress.

    My gifts are just gifts, they expect nothing in return.

    The tree isn't there to bring me happy feelings…with happy feelings I trimmed the tree.

    The difference is like breathing or not breathing.

    Bring a happy person to Christmas is what I could not do before…Christmas was to make me happy, while I struggle and stressed to make it just right, so I could be happy.

    Imagine.

    Now I don't need Christmas to deliver to me that which is impossible to deliver, I need nothing from Christmas.

     

     

  • I am now a stranger…

    Being a living ghost as I bump into my old life still catches me off guard.
    I am restrained by inner feelings and emotions; the easy flow of contact is no longer possible.
    Even a Hi is loaded down with years of silence, confusion and pain.  The old days and estrangement are at odds.
    So, I walked by and she never looked up.  
    The death of our old relationship stands and a new re-birth hasn't been born…
    I, a ghost of yesterday, my old life, the co-dependency and dysfunction.  She still very much alive there…happy.
    We both know it and feel it.  We are more comfortable apart than together, for we no longer match, our ideas, our thoughts and our actions no longer fitting in that old comfortable 'family' way.
    Sisters of estrangement.
    Old familiars now awkward encounters…
    I see my old self and barely recognize her…she sees the new me and I am now a stranger.  

  • Out of Control Controlled Person

    While discussing the attributes of suicide, two different people suggested that the body is out of control…and neither felt it was ‘them’ that did it, but a whole other person, a self that they did not know.

     

    I am very intrigued by how they see the person who almost died as someone different than them…and yet when they are well, or back on solid ground, that depressed person does not resemble the person who now has some control.

     

    This led me to ponder that you can be out of control as a rock, who is incapable of moving…or out of control moving… incapable of stopping.

     

    And it matters not whether you are moving or not moving, what matters is the lack of control.

     

    This lack of control means something or somebody else has control over you.

     

    You have lost owning your self.

     

    This lost self and the found self are totally different.

     

    A self that is under the control of a cult like religion and who has grown up in a dysfunctional family does not have control of her self at all.

     

    We give up the rights to our own lives, choices, beliefs…we lose control of self movement.

     

    No one says that a brainwashed person is out of control…we use that term only for moving things…yet it works the same for unmoving.

     

    The staunch faithful will not make a move that goes against the teachings of the church…while being controlled by others, they themselves have no control.   

     

    They only control themselves to remain faithful to the other that is controlling them.

     

    There is no self to control; they lost contact with the self.

     

    They see themselves through the controller’s eyes.

     

    Who would ever think that a person who is completely under the control of cult etc, is out of control?  It seems like an oxymoron.

     

    A very out of control controlled person.

     

     

     

     

  • Mine.

    As I was reading Chapter Two of The Artist’s Way book by Julia Cameron, I found similarities between finding your artist self and leaving toxic relationships.

     

    She is leading you forward suggesting ideas and things that will focus on self and in doing so you discover where you are standing and how you have been living and who has had their hands on the reigns of you.

     

    Unblocking the Artist is like opening the eyes of those in denial.

     

    Julia speaks of poisonous playmates and crazymakers and I see them as the dysfunctional family I was lost among where there was no space for my self.

     

    She makes reference between giving up toxic thinking as giving up drinking.  And those still enjoying the toxic beverages and the toxic mindset, will not be your cheerleaders and in fact will weaken your resolve.

     

    The Artist Self is the self that is untouched by other’s influences, but whose sense of being comes from within and is connected to the Universe. 

     

    She is looking at this process from the self outward, where I was looking at leaving the mess of dysfunction.

     

    I wasn’t trying to find an authentic artful self, but rather fleeing from the abusive family that I felt had stolen my self.

     

    And it had, a pattern maker or follower had replaced my own artistic creative self, I had no personal connection to the Universe, I was plugged into an extension cord. 

     

    My sense of self flowed not from the Universe; it came from my mother/father/brother/sister/friend/anyone but the Universe and me.

     

    When everything that was holding the definitions of me was shown to be very dysfunctional, I then seen my own dysfunctional self. 

     

    I saw what the extension cord was plugged into, and I unplugged them all.

     

    It was the unplugging them that freed me to be available to hear the Universe, to pay attention to my body, my feelings, my emotions, to connect me back to me.

     

    The definition of Universe is one song.

     

    I am now singing one song… mine.

     

     

     

  • Supporting Me.

    Listening to Eve Ensler on the Ted Conference about Security was amazing. I know she is right, that those of us who lost our security are the ones who will actually take the steps to make a difference.

    With nothing left to lose, we lose nothing.

    We can speak up and speak against what we suffered, our strength and courage comes from all that we lost and have experienced.

    We become strong when we can speak up as to spare another.

    My voice isn’t always accepted, my truths are not easy to hear, yet who better to listen to than one who has already been there?

    Inner security knows you can survive for you have.

    I am secure in knowing there is no security.

    It can’t be bought or orchestrated, life happens.

    Like Byron Katie, I am comfortable now in the don’t know life, where before I had rigid boundaries of knowing and in the end all the knowing I knew were proven wrong.

    Now I have security in the Universal power supporting me.

  • Unravel

    In the past few months my teeth have been falling apart, broken teeth, fillings falling out and just this past Monday a root canal, all signs that my eating machine was breaking down.

    At one point I had 6 teeth with issues, both sides of my mouth and top and bottom, which created new challenges in eating, I could no longer just eat, I had to be aware of what and how.

    How interesting that I became aware of this Pac Man like eating machine only when it broke.

    And it took 7 broken teeth to get my attention and one root canal, but I am seeing it now. It slowed me down the only way it could by busting the Pac Man…the eating machine.

    When the eating machine was broken I saw my eating in slow motion.

    The frenzy pace was brought into focus…I became aware of how much I was unaware.

    How incredible is it that the Pac Man is the control center of eating instead of it being a team of mind, body and soul…this cavity of teeth and tongue is the ruler and the rest of me a victim of its poorly developed palate?

    Changing the palate to fit the fitness of my body is my latest adventure, to begin eating from the body and using the teeth instead of the teeth using me.

    I am sure in an uncontrollable environment, we control what we can, and eating uncontrollably gave us control, as well as the feeling of being satisfied in an unsatisfied world.

    What also linger at the fringes of my out of control eating are recollections of me being out alone with my father. I don’t recall anything but us eating alone. I was young, I was special I was out on a date. Yet, knowing he is a pedophile, this isn’t a nice scene…however the food was normal or more normal than what happened before or after…was I bought by a malt, was that my price? Did my life become normal again with food? It is funny how I can’t recall the abuse, but I can recall the food and can picture the restaurants and booths and even the swirling stools…

    Each part of my world is complicated with abuse.

    How I used food to normalize or control myself is the mystery I will unravel.

  • A Lady with Borders

    I listened to Dr. Laura Berman speak about “Borderline Personality Disorder”. It sounded so similar to where I came from, where the lines between what is your life and what is my life are blended, and how you can flip between like and hate in relationships, blaming the other for your actions. She was speaking to a woman whose husband had this and the husband blamed the wife for his cheating.

    Dr. Laura’s advice to the woman was that even if you are the only one that is sane and all are calling you insane, you are still sane. That for her to grab a hold of reality and not let go for it seems we can get sucked into their twisted reality and get very confused. And usually these types of individuals are married to or in a relationship with co-dependents who live to make you happy.

    I was glad to hear of this Borderline Personality Disorder, and I feel that it mirrors own life in how I used to blame my poor behavior as a mother on misbehaving children and how I also have lived on the other side of the coin, being a good daughter to make a good mother.

    This was an interesting view of my family and how they still are using each other to behave.

    I will get a good sister IF I be a good sister.
    I will get a good mother if I be a good daughter.

    This conjoined way of living is very weird to me now, and the insanity that ensues mind blowing, for they literally believe that they can control another’s behavior by their behavior.

    I am stunned to know that finding reality and separating bodies is what is needed, to stop bleeding into others lives or having their lives bleed into yours, that we need to find a way to stay completely in your own power.

    I also listened to Mark Nepo who wrote “The Book of Awakening,” and he spoke of a time when he lost his job and found out he had cancer, and at the moment when his life seemed to all fall apart at once, he found his soul, a part of him that remained untouched by the chaos.

    I get that.

    I felt that at the time my whole world fell apart that inside of me my soul awoke or I awoke to my soul. It was the only thing dysfunction hadn’t touched.

    I can’t be certain what my overall mental status was for 46 years or what conditions all in my family have, but this Borderline Personality Disorder seems to explain the sense of guilt I had when I wasn’t able to make them better, or the shame I felt for my father’s deeds, like we were all one big ameba.

    I woke up as a woman without borders!

    The past six years have been constructing fences, separating my flesh from theirs, my emotions and feelings being shanghaied by their lives, and learning how to be a lady with borders.

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  • Meant to be.

    Motherhood begins in childhood, and womanhood starts there as well. The essence of who we are as a woman will directly relate to what kind of mother we are.

    There is no separation between woman and mother; the two are one.

    We don’t leave behind who we are as we take on the responsibility of a child, we simply add this to our ongoing relationships that are already in place.

    A child joins your relationships and will emulate them as he begins to create his own, he watches how you treat yourself and how you allow others to treat you, and it is from there that he learns self-care.

    My motherhood path began with me being a valiant co-dependent, a people pleaser and a whore for love and peace, there was very little of my life that was solely for me, most of it I lived for the benefit of others.

    All my decisions and choices were linked to someone’s happiness or love, I made choices based on whether I would lose their approval or not.

    When I stopped seeking approval and instead began living inside out doing what I loved, I began seeing a Me emerge, a separated unique individual, a self.

    As I grew into being more me, I no longer needed others to support me, and it set them all free to be them selves.

    My children were set free when I set myself free.

    My children’s lives returned to them and they too are now free to be what they want to be from the inside out.

    I am there to guide them to show they the lay of the land, but at the end of the day, they get to decide their fate depending upon the choices they make.

    It isn’t my life it is theirs.

    The freedom you give comes with self responsibility and that is what I believe the goal of each parent is, to make them ownership of their lives.

    To raise them to see the consequences from the choices they make, and to allow them to sit in the consequence is the learning of life.

    How we deal with all facets of life is how they learn to deal.

    How authentic we are, how loyal to self we are, where our integrity lies, all will be reflected back to us in our children’s lives.

    Mostly what we fail to notice is that our children’s lives will be lived as we live today, not our potential or what we plan to do, but as we do today.

    To raise independent children, be independent.
    To raise children who love themselves, love yourself.
    Who you are today is the pattern your child will follow, our footsteps are leading them into a life we have.

    We can’t do nothing and hope our children learn from our mistakes, we have to undo our mistakes.

    There are a few, a slight few, changelings of this rule, they are the exceptions not the rule, that will strike out on their own and redefine themselves leaving behind a family, I know this happens for I was one.

    I changed the family legacy by leaving instead of staying in the cycle of abuse/dysfunction and co-dependency; I had to walk out to save my self.
    Time will tell as my young adult children leave our home and set out on their own making choices, was there enough time spent with me to learn a new way of being or were their formative years to tightly ingrained.

    I sit here today aware that the woman who I was and the woman who I became, mothered the same children.

    How this will affect them remains to be seen, what pattern will they follow, how deeply were they affected by their formative years and how much of an impact has my freedom made?

    What I know for sure is that the more I remain honest with myself, the more I love myself, the brighter the second pattern is seen.

    To be the best mother ever is to be the best you can be with your self.

    Loving yourself enough to say no when you mean it.
    Loving you enough to put up boundaries to keep hurt out.
    Loving you to speak your truth always.
    Loving your self as you find your self in this moment, knowing you are a work in progress and be willing to do what it takes in each moment to stand with your self.

    You will then mother a child of strong courage to be who they were meant to be.