Tag: facing

  • Uncomfortable to Face

    There is a one two punch in following your feelings.  The blow that you were right when you actually wanted to be proved wrong and secondly that your inner compass is spot on. 

    What people fail to appreciate is that I am not creating the truth that affirms me, they are acting on their own, by their own volition.  

    I am not putting words in mouths or fingers to keyboard, I am not manipulating them or their blog posts or the conditions of their blogs. They are doing this on their own free will.  

    I simply observe and respond.

    My brother's blog, http://www.messyguru.typepad.com received a comment from Jim Torola that succinctly shows why I had to back away.  The character assignation he delivered to my brother has no proof in reality. None.  

    I am not defending my brother, he does this well enough on his own, but I want the record to show if you will, that my actions were validated.

    I can't know why Jim wrote what he wrote or where these ideas came from.  All I can know, is that they don't ring true for me.  He wasn't writing about the brother that I know.

    Walking hand in hand with reality is often painful when you want a different outcome.  But, I have learned that regardless of my wishes, reality marches on.

    It seems one blog has erased all the past posts, but the last one. 

    Are we as good as our last word?  Can you live without a past?  Can you simply erase it like blog posts?  Can you leave out the dark parts and focus up ahead?  Is it possible to live life like you were born today?

    My history is precious, each morsel and drop. Each ugly stain and scuff…is my journey. There is no word I would erase, no part I would remove, no person I would not have met, no lesson I would have missed.

    Each and every thing I have said and done is me being me.  Certainly there are places and very long stretches of me acting unconsciously…of presenting the perfect rendition of a person who is brainwashed.  A confused lost abused person. I did that well.

    I even did a great presentation of exiting out of a dysfunctional family while being dysfunctional.  I was and am viewed as mental and crazy…certainly that can apply. 

    I no longer fit into what they call 'normal' and 'family'.  I stand out, thankfully so.  I no longer mesh with their mentalness.

    But, erase a part or forget a moment, or live like I had no past….never.  My past is what I had to overcome to become who I am today.  

    It was like all aspects of myself were taken away and I was set upon scavenger hunt to get them back.  Finding a piece of my self here and there, a part of me lost in this belief and that desire.

    If I had left my past behind and set out to form a completely new me, I would have left my soul behind.  I would have skipped the hunt to find the real me.

    It would have been leaving one nightmare to build a fantasy…a very similar tactic that an abused child uses.  It wipes out the harsh reality and goes on to create a fantastical blog of kindness…while reality marches on.

    This is exactly what I did as a child.  My reality was too unkind, so I created a nice looking happy place for me to go to, not looking or recording the dark history…

    And sadly, while I was busy in my new happy space, a pedophile was busy molesting little girls. 

    I no longer try to escape to a fantasy land and instead turn and head into that which is uncomfortable to face.

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    Photograph by Hannah Jukuri

     

     

     

     

     

  • Production of Evil

    I am thinking Alice Miller may be one of my new favorite authors on Childhood and its affects as well as understanding why parents do what they do.

    Here is what she writes on the back of her book, “Banished Knowledge”

    “The JUngian doctrine of the shadow, and the notion that evil is the reverse of good, are aimed at denying the reality of evil. But evil is real. It is not innate but acquired, and it is never the reverse of good but rather its destroyer…It is not true that evil, destructiveness, and perversion inevitably form part of human existence, no matter how often this is maintained. But it is true that evil is always engaged in producing more evil and, with it, an ocean of suffering for millions that is similarly avoidable. When one day the ignorance arising from childhood repression is eliminated and humanity has awakened, an end can be put to this production of evil.”

  • Theories as a Protective Shield

    Theories as a Protective Shield” chapter 4, in Banished Knowledge by Alice Miller, she writes…

    “The feminist movement will forfeit none of its strength if it finally admits that mothers also abuse their children. Only the truth, even the most uncomfortable, endows a movement with the strength to change society, not the denial of truth. When men abuse their women and the women put up with it, both the violence of the men and the tolerance of the women are consequences of early child abuse. Hence young children, male as well as female, can become victims of adults of either sex. When sensitive nonbrutal women (and men) are incapable of protecting their children from the brutality of their partner, one must contribute this inability to the blinding process and the intimidation experienced in their own childhood. That is the simple truth. Only when these roots of all violence are exposed is it possible to examine the phenomena without retouching or embellishing them.”

    “When a female therapist has been taught that men are solely to blame for all the evil of the world, she will, of course, be able to support her female patients when they eventually discover that they have been sexually abused by their fathers, grandfathers, or brothers: Unlike the followers of the drive theory, she will not talk them out of this truth. But as long as the truth about their mother who allowed the abuse to happen, who failed to protect the child and ignored her distress, is kept out of sight, the full reality is not allowed to be either perceived or acknowledged. And as long as the child’s feelings cannot be experienced, the rage against me – a rage she can already experience – remains impotent; it can even remain coupled with the undissolved loyalty and devotion toward the father or other abusive men.”

    “When mothers are defended as pathetic victims, the female patient will not discover that with a loving, protective, perceptive, and courageous mother she could never have been abused by her father or brother. A daughter who has learned from her mother that she is worth protecting will find protection among strangers too and will be able to defend herself. When she has learned what love is, she will not succumb to simulated love. But a child who was merely pushed aside and disciplined, who never experienced soothing caresses, is not aware that anything like nonexploitative caresses can exist. She has no choice but to accept any closeness she is offered rather than be destroyed. Under certain circumstances she will even accept sexual abuse for the sake of finding at least some affection rather than freezing up entirely. When, as an adult woman, she comes to realize that she was cheated out of love, she may be ashamed of her former need and hence feel guilty. She will blame herself because she dare not blame her mother, who failed to satisfy the child’s need or perhaps even condemned it.”

    “Psychoanalysts protect the father and embroider the sexual abuse of the child with the Oedipus, or Electra, complex, while some feminist therapists idealize the mother, thus hindering access to the child’s first traumatic experiences with the mother. Both approaches can lead to a dead end, since the dissolving of pain and fear is not possible until the full truth of the facts can be seen and accepted.”

    “But even in the absence of ideological motives, the truth can be disregarded in therapies if the patient is offered no tolls to deal with his feelings and to systematically query and test his hypotheses. Even the harshest reproaches directed at the parents won’t help the patient achieve liberation as long as the truth remains inaccessible. This will be the case if, for example, the child had a father in whose presence he could scarcely utter a word without being interrupted and barked at. This patient may for a very long time find it impossible to achieve an inner confrontation with his father and to articulate his accusations. The liberated feelings are directed first against the mother, who terrorized the child less. The reverse may also happen – that the child feared his father less than he feared his mother and that the patient first accuses his father, quite unconsciously because the earlier experiences are still inaccessible, of things he actually experienced with his mother. Thus, based on self protection and fear, a distorted picture of the past takes shape. In the course of therapy these distortions can be corrected, provided the therapy is aimed at discovering the reality. If it is, the therapists knows that the patient can accuse only the parent in who he still had a modicum of confidence and not the parent in whose presence he had been paralyzed with fear. The therapist will help him discover the truth of his history so that he doesn’t blame the wrong people but blames those who really deserve it and, moreover, only for those deeds that were actually committed. For nobody achieves freedom by blaming people who in reality never harmed him. By directing diffuse, nonspecific, and unsubstantiated accusations at surrogate persons, the patient will achieve no improvement of his condition but will often remain in a state of disastrous confusion. Liberation comes with the ability to defend oneself where it is necessary and appropriate. The more realistic a person becomes and the more he frees himself of ideological and theoretical trimmings the better he will succeed.” Alice Miller

  • The Shame Lives when we hide it…bravery is born when we don’t!

    We can’t know the obstacle courses another person is navigating in their lives, what sorts of soul wrenching choices they are making, what tricky waters they are navigating by how they present themselves daily, for most often we are taught to ‘put our best face forward’ and not share the nitty and the gritty, the sad and devastating and we have all become masks of covering up.

    How did it become more natural to pretend than to walk in authenticity, like we get points for being the most put together and champions of keeping our ‘messes’ well hidden?

    So that now it seems that a person who speaks their truth and walks it is a phenomena instead of the norm.

    What is it about human nature that we want sunshine and blue skies, peace, love and joy and push back and away from feelings and emotions of great tragedy, yet live it anyway?

    The behind the scenes drama would be better served in front and out loud. To simply present to the world your selves dressed in your dirty laundry and wear it with flare.

    To be as disheveled on the outside as the raging confusion and overwhelming emotions of pain on the inside and for it all to match, instead of primping and struggling to remain perfectly coiffed while totally unraveling.

    It seems we want perfect looking lives whether we live them or not and we will struggle to pull it off, and feel victorious if we can walk around in public hiding our broken insides.

    Imagine the world and how much more relaxed it would be if our insides would appear as accessories, if we were allowed to wear our confusion outside, what great advice would pour our way and how comforting it would be to see that you were not alone.

    And, the greatest news is that the secrets would die for it would be unfashionable to not have colorful deeply intriguing soulful items displayed on your chest.

    Imagine the white blankness of indifference compared to the wildly attractive colors of wrestling with overcoming abuse?

    How nice it would be to get rid of the social presentation and just be our selves…

    What happens with these social masks and if they are good actors, is that you never get to know the real person, just the nice set of clothes that walk around.

    In walking and talking about my ‘dirty’ laundry or my truth, I have had the greatest privilege to hear others real life…they relax and be them selves where the social outside disappears and underneath is this wildly exciting alive soul living life, going through huge lessons of growth and inner knowing.

    Life is lived underneath the perfect faces and put together clothing and if you dare wear your dirty laundry in public you will find others who are eager to do so too.

    My dirtiest of the dirt is that I have a pedophile for a father and once I openly displayed this, owned it, spoke it, I have been free to display other shades of dysfunction as well, and little by little my whole self is allowed to come forth.

    I have become comfortable in my own skin and wear my abuse as a badge of courage not of shame; it’s one of the last diseases that need to be socially acceptable.

    Human nature when its abused creates this, it isn’t a bug, it is spread from family member to family member and I truly believe that the more we talk about this and the more we openly display our abuse, the less power it will have and its insidious spreading will recede.

    Incest is hidden behind nice looking clothes and demeanors, and family’s monsters are protected and made normal so as not to stand out and look odd…and we need to undress this normalcy and own it.

    When we own it we begin treating the root cause…we find the line and the path of destruction and can one by one bring them in the open and see how their abuse affected them.

    Are they still being victims or have they taken over and become what abused them? And we have to recognize that they are acting out perfectly for being abused.

    “Hurt people hurt people.” They are not natural monsters; they became this way coming from whence they came.

    While we can see the wolf in sheep’s clothing, we never treat the wolf we just pet the lamb.

    Petting the monster will not stop the abuse; it is only facing the monster within that we can begin to affect the root cause.

    Undressing and exposing the monster is a step in the right direction.

    Isn’t it funny, but we all know we are petting a lamb with the volatile wolf underneath…yet we are too afraid to know it and speak it and do something about it. It is much easier to pretend it is a lamb the whole way through, even though the wolf fangs are showing and we have bites to prove it…

    I know the cost of not disrobing the wolf…of pretending that he is only a lamb.

    Our children need to know from us adults in the room, that a monster is sitting in their presence and if we treat him like a lamb, so will they.

    It is time we call a spade a spade, a monster a monster and a molested child a molested child. It is time for us to wear our wounds on the outside with courage.

    The shame lives when we hide it…bravery is born when we don’t!

  • Yoga is the Winner this year.

    I began this year with a promise to do 60 days of yoga in a row, and I did. I then decided to do another 60 days in a row and I did, I believe I did 4 back-to-back 60-day challenges before my streak began developing holes.

    Today I am down 20 for the year.

    As I approached the mat today my body was stiff and weak and just not in the mood.

    Each posture I did my best, but my best looked like a beginners effort. I felt I was being asked to perform something far beyond my level of effort.

    What continues to surprise me is that the pain in my joints, my hips and lower back still persist.

    And along with the pain come the tears.

    You wonder how much a body can hold.

    What I wanted most was to be wrapped in a cotton blanket and swaddled in a quilt with a fluffy pillow and suck my thumb…to not move to make another joint scream.

    It still surprises me that I go to the mat for this torture, for the blanky option is available each day as well.

    I am not stopping on December 31st I will continue to yoga along, in hopes that one day I will come to the end of the body’s pain.

    339 days have passed by and I have tossed my blanket aside and stood on the torture mat for 319 times.

    He says, you can either suffer for 90 minutes or 90 years, pick one.

    Yoga is the winner this year.