Tag: exile

• Freedom in Healing.

  Yesterday I felt the sorrow of not going back, of being forever outside, being stuck in a new life upon which there is no return.

   

  That my inner truths and feelings will not change, and I don’t have the magic to make it happen, they sit there rock solid unmoving, unshakeable.

   

  I felt like I was riding shotgun to these feelings, like I am riding along behind them and have to act accordingly.

   

  Even if my inner wishes and desires are to go against them, I am weak where they are strong.

   

  These truths are not of my making, I didn’t dream them up to make my life difficult, to stay away from weddings, and forgo all family activities.

   

  The makings of these truths came in ways not many care to know or acknowledge; they forget that I am not the maker of these truths, but the carrier of them.

   

  It is like I am carrying a disease that I didn’t invent, but yet seen as the magician and the creator. 

   

  That I am the one who started this whole thing and now that I have had my ‘fun’ with it, just get rid of it and be ‘normal’ again.

   

  It still catches me unaware that they still think it is me that is the real trouble, that if only I would just stop sprouting this garbage than a normal family I would have.

   

  Then once again I could rejoin them in celebrations instead of wanting to be in exile.

   

  That I am the one who wants to stay away, NOT that there is actually something to stay away from.

   

  That I am enjoying this new role, this new life, the knower of my unchangeable truths, that I prefer to live estranged, that I decided this is a new me choice for me.

   

  If only that were true, that one day I simply decided that my old life didn’t work anymore and I set out to find a new me.

   

  What they fail to appreciate is the fact that I was unaware and blind to the abuse in our home, that I built a life upon a false foundation. 

   

  When the foundation crumbled, so did I, I had a break down of me.

   

  In the million pieces of me that lay shattered, I had to find a way to make a new me.

   

  The last five years isn’t an experiment or fad, it isn’t a temper tantrum or something I can set aside for a wedding, it is the way I healed.

   

  I healed inside by setting up boundaries.

  I healed by acknowledging my abuse, my abuser, and those who support abuse by not standing against it.

   

  I healed myself putting myself in exile.

   

  And exiled from this family I will stay, it is the choice of being healed or abused.

   

  I felt the sadness of this exile, the aloneness, the being seen as different and difficult, and it is.

   

  Yet I no more can go back into abuse than I can let go of the freedom in healing.

   

  "I must be willing to give up what I am in order to become what I will be."
   ~ Einstein

   

  June 13, 2010

  abuse, carry blame, dysfunction, estranged from family, exile, family pressures, incest, life after abuse, setting boundaries, shame

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• Real Me.

  “Some people will not tolerate such emotional honesty in communication.  They would rather defend their dishonesty on the grounds that it might hurt others.  Therefore, having rationalized their phoniness into nobility, they settle for superficial relationships.” 

  ~Author Unknown

   

  When I began following my truth and spoke with emotional honesty, it really never occurred to me that I was sealing the deal on having no relationship.

   

  How sad and telling that most of my past relationships were based upon phoniness, either theirs or mine or both.

   

  When I could no longer tolerate the absence of emotional honesty and the other side wasn’t ready for the full exposure to emptiness, our relationship ended.

   

  Our phony relationship lay exposed.

   

  It is funny how you can miss what wasn’t there, how you ache for the closeness you falsely created, incredible to grieve a loss of something you did not have.

  It seems mental to feel separated and alone when a phony relationship dies. 

   

  How can I grieve something phony?

  How can I love something phony?

  How can I have a relationship with phony?

   

  Phony was the only family that I knew, was the only me I knew.

   

  It is funny that you can crave a false thing, something that has no substance, like a drug.

   

  It isn’t the drug itself, but the feeling.

   

  I felt like I belonged.

   

  Now I am standing separated from them.

   

  I am different, perhaps no longer co-dependent.

   

  Feeling strange at being totally alone and separated, yet totally connected to feelings, my emotions and me!

   

  The phony me died, the phony relationships died and they gave birth to a real me.

   

  “It takes two to lie.  One to lie and one to listen.” 

  Homer Simpson

   

   

  May 30, 2010

  co-dependent, dishonesty, exile, honesty, lies, phony, relationships, self, superficial

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