Tag: estrangement

  • On the Fault Line.

    My mother turned 80 today, or so I was told.  I have lost track of her age, as well of her life.  She seems a mirage out on the far horizon, behind me…detached from daily emotions. But, I do know, if I were to be in her presence, a multitude of feelings would rush through my body.  Not the waterfall of love, light and comfort, but the opposite.  

    I wonder if I will ever be able to feel neutral, nothing, no ripple, to be 'social'.

    In the Fall, my middle daughter will marry….and she (my mother) is invited.  It is only for one day, a few hours, a fleeting moment in time, yet a special loving one for my daughter and our family.  Interesting to be part of a Mother/Daughter moment…one being the daughter and the other the mother….

    My daughter is free to invite whom she wants at her wedding…some of which will be hard for me to be around. Perhaps hard is not the accurate word…but difficult or challenging…

    I have a hard time seeing her role there.  I understand 'grandmother' is her title and right…and yet I don't see her as that.

    My daughter sees a grandmother, I see an accomplice…an active participant to abuse of many little girls.  I can't feel warm, fuzzy or ap-pathetic towards her or even neutral and social.  My vision of her, my memories are tainted, sordid…unkind. I don't feel her like a grandmother, a safe place, kind heart and comfort.  I feel her as painful, hurt, uncaring, not kind, psychotic.

    The contrast of emotions set forth for that day boggle my mind…how to anticipate, look forward to such contrasts of emotions…to be in the middle between my daughter and I and my mother and I?

    Harsh cold on one side and warm love on the other…

    I know my role is mother of the bride, not daughter.

    I am to place my estrangement with my mother off to the side.

    My estrangement with my siblings as some will find the need to attend.

    I am to keep facing the future and love.

    It is like a real life event of what goes on in our psyches…the negative energies begging to be on stage front and center…and loving kindness, peace, love and joy.

    Just as today, her birthday, I turn away from the past and lean into my life of estrangement but not to be overwhelmed with negative emotions.  Not to get caught up on the thoughts of her…and to see instead the wonder and beauty of this spring. To feel the peace in my home, to well up with emotions of love towards my husband and children…looking ahead, and not behind.

    Estrangement means you will sometimes be on the fault line…


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  • Loving For Me.

    "I wonder, Why you stopping talking at Mom for long time?You need be forgive in your past and let go angry for some reason? You never to know if Mom is gone and you might feel guilty for real. I did forgive what my dad did and time to move on. Please do not waste your time for angry or hate on her. Remember, no one is perfect and you need learn a solve problem. It not hard? Right? Today is new day and do not looking a past.  If you keep emotional, that is not good health. I want to see my family be happy and love anyone!"  Jay Huhta writes on facebook last night.  

    A few entries of my sisters line up beneath…directed at him.

    "you are wise 🙂 Remember Jay, everyone thinks differently and all we can do is respect that….You are sweet Jay, I love you….You are all heart, love you."

    Interesting exchange, it is like there are two conversations.

    And my dialogue would make it three…

    The questions and guilt are always directed at me.  Love and kindness to those who forgive and forget.

    She isn't asked a thing.  

    Nothing is expected from her at all, she is granted all things due to her title, "Mom".  

    Our broken relationship is all my problem; I broke the family pattern, I stepped out of the cycle of abuse, and I am wrong.

    Assumptions are made that I am angry and hateful…that unless I am loving towards abusive people I will feel guilty.

    I used to feel that way, I used to be locked into a frozen stance where no matter what, the only emotion I was allowed to use was love and forgiveness; forgiveness in the abusive sense, of forgetting the abusive actions of changing the past and wiping out the bad things.  Returning that person back to nice.

    My actions are seen as negative, for I will not let go of the past.  I will keep the past as it is, pristine in all its glory, changing nothing.

    I will keep a full image of my father and of his wife and of all they have done to me.  The good, the bad and the very ugly. All of it stays in my book, I will rip no pages out.

    It is written down in the truth of the universe, and you simply can't change what has been done.

    It works beautifully for them to not add the negative things, then you get to keep a kind loving mom and dad.

    My refusing to subtract the hurtful behaviors has my view of my parents totally different that of my siblings.

    The label "Mother and Father" has them capitulating…and I refuse.

    I refuse to go along with allowing abuse.  I know they hate to hear that, I know they want me to believe that they too are taking a tough stand against abuse, that they too will be vigilant. 

    What they want is to have both.

    Standing against abuse and have a happy loving family.  

    Impossible.  

    It literally is not possible when the father is a pedophile and the mother blesses his 'sin's of rapes and fondling away.  

    In a family where abuse lives, you can't stand against it, Unless you stand against the abusers.  It is not my choice that the abusers happen to be my father and mother.  It isn't my choice that those who supported them, happen to be my sisters and brothers.  I stand against abuse, no matter who is wearing it.

    What they call love is to capitulate for abuse; to surrender the facts, the truths and keep a happy loving family.  

    And if you don't forgive and forget you will feel guilty.

    I won't.  

    The only guilt I have felt is for all the years I went along with the abusive family, for supporting her and forgiving him. My guilt is for the first 46 years, and my actions to keep silent about abuse.  I have no guilt about my last 7 years.

    No regrets, none. 

    All my behaviors were perfect for me.  Perfect for someone learning to walk away from abuse. In my confused backwards state; all the actions I took were exactly as they should be.  

    My journey away from abuse began in a state that the abuse had put me in.  Mental, upside down and backwards, with defintions of love completely wrong, disassociated from feelings and emotions and a sense of self.

    I did my best in the state I found myself in.

    I am proud of my last 7 years…it is a huge accomplishment of healing from abuse.  While I see this as a positive, my family still back within the 'loving' confines of family see it negatively.

    And they should.

    We haven't seen eye to eye on this for 7 years.

    Our eyes are focusing on two different things.

    Seeing abuse from two drastically different vantage points.  

    One is to see what my parents need, and the other what the abused child needs.

    My vision cleared and I was able to see the child's needs.

    Mine.  Where in the past, I too could only see what was best for my mother, my father and to keep a family together.  And in doing so, I failed to speak up about abuse and abuse ran through our family into the second generation…for 40 years.

    For 40 years I didn't see me.

    Now I do. 

    And I feel no anger or hatetred nor do I feel guilt in seeing me.

    When I see the abuse in me, I can see the abuse in others.

    When I love myself.  I love myself enough to walk away from abuse…even if it is wearing the label dad/mom.

    Love of self and being in that family were impossible to do.

    I feel very blessed and full of grace that I was able to finally see me.

    I found me in a battered and broken state, but have walked myself into a place that is totally loving for me.  

     

     

  • Meant to be…

    At Christmas time we send out greetings of Peace, Love and Joy, and yet we fail to send them out to the folks we are estranged from.

    The meaning of estranged is, No longer close or affectionate to someone; alienated and I wondered what I would write to those who I am not close to, but have been.  

    My Estrangement Christmas Letter…

    Since we are no longer close, we no longer communicate and that leaves us in silence.  In that silence and space there seems to be peace; for separation brings us both peace in our lives, for each of us disagree with the way the other is walking. 

    As we both walk separated, we are here for a reason…a season or a lifetime.  I can't know if we will never connect, or have given each other the lesson or message we needed to…or do we come together at another time…and for another reason.

    It seems that if you let someone go and they come back to you, it was meant to be, and if they never do…that too is the way of it.

    We were in each others lives until it was no longer peaceful to be.

    I have no regrets to walking my path, nor in letting you walk yours…holding each other prisoner in a life we don't want would not have made us closer.  There is peace is separation.

    I have learned volumes of lessons in letting go, in giving freedom, and in seeing when I held on too tightly…and smothered life.

    Estrangement actually feels honorable when our ways of living life are different and not closely related; our paths are strange to each other…I would not force you to walk on my path and am thankful you are not asking the same of me.

    I wish you peace as you walk your path and know there is a rhythm and beat to the drum you follow, that only you can hear.  It is your heart and your soul you follow…it leads you.  

    You can make no mistake, for your life is set for you pace, your comfort and you will always know when to move. Always. It is never too late or never not right.  It is always right for you.

    I wish you joy in all things.  Joy at being you.

    I wish you love of self first…for it leads the way.

    And yet, there is an belief that says we do one of four things;

    We come in Light and move toward the Light

    or come in the dark and stay in the dark

    or come in the Light and move towards the dark

    or come in the dark and move towards the Light.

    The latest is me.  I can't know your journey, nor can anyone, but you.  I can only honor what you say and what you do…for you do it for reasons that only you can know.

    Whatever is your journey, I wish you peace, love and joy.

    I thank you for whatever time we spent together, what messages we shared and the lessons we learned.  I know for me, that each person I have been in contact with has walked part of my journey with me.

    You lent a kind word, walked through a particularly dark time, showed me the wrong way, brought me words I didn't want to hear, etc…I couldn't have done it without you.  

    I believe that those I am estranged from are Angels who did what they had to do to make me who I am today.  Even the dark ones, had to walk a particularly hard journey to help me see.  I am in awe of your journey the most.  For it is easy to be a Light walker, and much more difficult to walk the walk of the dark.

    On this Christmas, I wish you peace on your journey…and am grateful for you being part of my journey.  It is with an understanding heart and soul, I know we would be together if it was meant to be…

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     Have Peace this Christmas…

  • I run, because you can’t……for my sister friend.

    “There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way and not starting.”

                 Buddha

     

    I felt the loneliness today of my Aunt who ran away.  A woman I never met, yet I feel we are one.

     

    I felt her sadness of being misunderstood and unknown, how her choice to save herself, sentenced her to a life alone outside of her family.

     

    Ostracized for escaping, for saving ourselves, for walking free of abuse, we are not cheered, no clapping, instead we are jeered with sarcasm.

     

    I never ever thought my harshest critics would be from my own family, they are forever punching the already weakened psyche.

     

    The Little girl within feels so sad, empty of words to make them see. 

     

    Today I wondered about my Aunt and her life, how she survived without contact from her family, yet like me the family she missed is the same one that brings her pain.

     

    The intellectual part of me understands that the energy they bring me isn’t healthy, but my heart yearns for acceptance, for understanding and even empathy.

     

    Like missing the stick that is poking you in the eye.

     

    I have more empathy for folks who are set aside because of who they are, parts of themselves they cannot change.

     

    Maybe because my Aunt disappeared and no one spoke her name that I want there to be words about me.

     

    Perhaps this blog is a way that I too will not just simply disappear without a trace.

     

    In the first few days of my father being accused of criminal sexual conduct, I wrote.

     

    I wrote in disbelief, I wrote the words to anchor myself somewhere, to hold me in the sea of grief.

     

    Writing is evidence of my journey.

     

    I have kept all written communications from my family as evidence. I know that is an odd word to use. 

     

    It was the evidence I needed to sort out which one of us was in reality and which one wasn’t.

     

    My mental mind fought a long hard battle up against reality and in reality there are written words from a family who is not cheering me.

     

    In as much as I want them to be cheering, what I needed more were their words of mental ness to shine the way out.

     

    Maybe in the end their shouts of sarcasm are cheering me forward.

     

    They are showing me there is nothing for me back there.

    They were showing me how not to be.

    Showing me how far I have come.

     

    I feel the energy of my runaway aunt; she joins me in spirit as I run along, lending me her courage and strength.  I feel the spirit of many little girls whose time ran out, who were too empty to begin, I run for you. 

     

    I run towards wholeness with truth at my side.

    I feel you with me as I run.

     

    The refrain “you are the wind beneath my wings” came to mind.

     

    I am so grateful I was able to run away.

    I am so not alone.

    All little girls everywhere who suffered like I, I run for you.

    I run, because you can’t.

     

     

     

  • 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.  

  • Save yourself.

    While thinking back upon my journey out of sexual abuse/incest, I wondered what was the one thing that made a difference, what one major item was my cure?

    Cancer has drug treatments and therapies and it seems the body has lots of help to eradicate the diseased cells and again, I wondered about how abuse is similar but completely different.

    It is like we the abused child are the cancerous cells, and we have to leave the tumor.

    There is no treatment for us; it is up to us to save ourselves.

    What other diseases are healed by the sick cell?

    It seem preposterous to know that we are the ones we are counting on and in order to be healed of incest, you must leave the family where it originated, your family of origin.

    So, in order to heal you must go against and away from your family and most often friends.

    We leave the ones who others use to help in times of sickness, they are no available to use, for it is from them that our healing lies.

    I just found this very odd that we the dysfunctional, the broken down and confused are the ones to lead the charge, the ones put in control of our wellness.

    And we have to go against family and friends to achieve this task, the ones who have used and abused us are now there to holler and insult as we make our way away.

    Heading into an unknown land hoping for a new start a new self, a place where we can undo the dysfunction and make us function.

    We need to function to handle our dysfunction.

    Incredible…this self healing healing stuff!

    Which is why the rate of success is so very small. I wish I had the numbers, but I don’t. In my family of 16, including me, two of us so far have managed to stay away from the tumor.

    Two of us are seen as outcasts…and we are, we had to cast ourselves out of the disease, no one but your self can save your self. It is as if you are on fire and you are the fireman.

    This just boggles my mind and I am in complete awe that one as upside down and twisted was able to get myself free.

    I do recall in the beginning how the pull was to go back, to make the tumor benign to make the family whole so that I could be with them….but it soon shown me I was all I could save, each cell is on its own.

    No one is coming to save you, you have to save yourself.

  • A New Language of Me.

    My laptop lost its way to the Internet, no connection can be found, a wonderful tool that sits in solitary confinement.  I can type upon it, but it lost the means to communicate.  It felt so odd to have it sitting there without the flow of giving and receiving.

    Tomorrow I hope to call the Internet people and reconnect, how easy it is for a machine.

    How much harder it is for us.  I even have the capabilities to speak and to hear and yet I lost the connection with my family.

    Perhaps it is not the connection that is faulty but the words that pass between us.

    I say things they don't want to hear and they say things that make no sense to me, it is like we are separated by a language problem.

    You wonder where the words come from.  From fear or love?  Do they know?

    Is there a way to fix this and how can it be done?

    Who has to change the manner of speaking?  Is it me and what do I need to say?

    I know it is me, I gave up the language of our childhood and began speaking a new tongue, a new dialogue that is unfamiliar to them, truth.

    My new language had me walking a new path, my connections with my family were severed.

    I am unsure where there will be the opportunity again to connect.

    Until then I walk along learning a new language of me.   

  • Bridge of Understanding.

    “Do you think his death will bring the other’s closer” was a comment I heard to today.

     

    I know that this sentiment is common and that many believe that time will erase all wounds and death is a reminder that we ‘must’ get along for time is fleeting.

     

    It is a fallacy that we must all get along, that we are somehow flawed if we don’t agree and want to spend time with everyone.  And God forbid it be a family member. 

     

    What happened to the simple fact that lives don’t match, that we don’t get along, that we don’t agree on the way each lives their lives, how they deal or not deal, be or not be. 

     

    Isn’t it okay to not get along? 

     

    Isn’t it more honorable to agree that ‘nope we don’t match’?

     

    Why are we so afraid to stand up and face the facts that we don’t get along and find more peace being apart? 

     

    That when death arrives we will see someone pass that we didn’t get along with, that neither of us were the cause, but perhaps our pasts just didn’t lend themselves to gel a future.

     

    A looming death will not make us match and get along, no matter if death is a day or two away or a lifetime, the simple fact is that the distance between our beliefs are too wide for the bridge of understanding.