F*cking bastard!
F*cking bitch!
F*ck them both!!!
This is exactly how I feel right now.
About both ... I can't even write how I am legaly related to them by blood ... thank God I have a different name now.
SPIT
Saturday 21 May 2011
Friday 20 May 2011
Tears or laughter? ***Possibley triggering***
So much about my family-of-origin and the way they still choose to live their lives brings me a huge amount of pain, grief, triggers, anguish, desperation and worry.
I get exasperated at how blind my siblings are to the way things are and here, I am not talking about sexual abuse, which has, as far as I can tell, e confined just to myself, but to the constant emotional, spiritual and psychological abuse that we have all experienced in common. Apparently the sexual and physical abuse was the catalyst that sent me over the edge and out of that place - yes, I am at times (read: often) mildly to severely sarcastic.
As an example, The Bean Pole is soon to be nearer to 30 than 25, but still lives at and works from home, gives over the majority of any income that might happen to be earned to The Father, seeks his approval to any item of clothing bought and has to have his permission before going anywhere outside of the house.
HELLO?!?!?
Nope, to The Bean Pole and the other two siblings, this is "the right way to live", as has been dictated and handed down to them from The Father.
***Possible trigger ***
I recently threw out a skirt that I remember, so vividly, having to wear in front of The Father, while he scrutinized how far past my knees the hem came and whether or not it showed the shape of my bum in any way - no one was allowed to see anything that might possibly suggest that I, or my siblings, had bums or boobs - tut tut!! I had to go back and exchange it for the next size up, as the skirt "hugged me a little too tightly".
I so hated the size 20 t-shirts I was forced to wear, when in actual fact, I was a size 12-14, but no, the t-shirt must not go in EVEN A LITTLE between the nipple and the waist! And who inspected our boobs to make sure we were not "immodest"?!? Uh-huh, that one doesn't need an answer!
Ugh!! Creep!
***
Sometimes, however, despite your worries for the people you care about who are stuck in an unhealthy place, sometimes the way that place works is so flipping predictable, you have to laugh!
That or cry - or for me, not one to cry easily, a different expression ...
I think you can get into your new, healthier way of thinking and running your life that when you realise the way someone from your family of origin has acted, it hits you on the head and you have to go "Duh, of course! I should have known it would happen that way!!" Maybe it's just a constant false-hope that they are going to choose a healthy option?!
I had great hopes for a decision that I had, unusually, helped The Mother arrive at ... but of course, I found out today that it was conducted in the Family of Origins usual twisted way.
Duh!! What else did you expect?!?
So then it was laugh or cry. Thankfully the hubby helped me laugh.
Banging my head against the wall ...
I get exasperated at how blind my siblings are to the way things are and here, I am not talking about sexual abuse, which has, as far as I can tell, e confined just to myself, but to the constant emotional, spiritual and psychological abuse that we have all experienced in common. Apparently the sexual and physical abuse was the catalyst that sent me over the edge and out of that place - yes, I am at times (read: often) mildly to severely sarcastic.
As an example, The Bean Pole is soon to be nearer to 30 than 25, but still lives at and works from home, gives over the majority of any income that might happen to be earned to The Father, seeks his approval to any item of clothing bought and has to have his permission before going anywhere outside of the house.
HELLO?!?!?
Nope, to The Bean Pole and the other two siblings, this is "the right way to live", as has been dictated and handed down to them from The Father.
***Possible trigger ***
I recently threw out a skirt that I remember, so vividly, having to wear in front of The Father, while he scrutinized how far past my knees the hem came and whether or not it showed the shape of my bum in any way - no one was allowed to see anything that might possibly suggest that I, or my siblings, had bums or boobs - tut tut!! I had to go back and exchange it for the next size up, as the skirt "hugged me a little too tightly".
I so hated the size 20 t-shirts I was forced to wear, when in actual fact, I was a size 12-14, but no, the t-shirt must not go in EVEN A LITTLE between the nipple and the waist! And who inspected our boobs to make sure we were not "immodest"?!? Uh-huh, that one doesn't need an answer!
Ugh!! Creep!
***
Sometimes, however, despite your worries for the people you care about who are stuck in an unhealthy place, sometimes the way that place works is so flipping predictable, you have to laugh!
That or cry - or for me, not one to cry easily, a different expression ...
I think you can get into your new, healthier way of thinking and running your life that when you realise the way someone from your family of origin has acted, it hits you on the head and you have to go "Duh, of course! I should have known it would happen that way!!" Maybe it's just a constant false-hope that they are going to choose a healthy option?!
I had great hopes for a decision that I had, unusually, helped The Mother arrive at ... but of course, I found out today that it was conducted in the Family of Origins usual twisted way.
Duh!! What else did you expect?!?
So then it was laugh or cry. Thankfully the hubby helped me laugh.
Banging my head against the wall ...
Wednesday 18 May 2011
Uh oh, it's nearly night again ...
Last night was an awful night, a truly awful night! I felt like it was never going to end and then, just when I had finally managed to fall asleep ... beep, beep, beep, my husband's alarm went off - oh joy, time to get up again!
I took such a very long time to get to sleep; had nightmares; woke up convinced there was a man (other than my hubby) in the room - actually saw the colours of his clothes! - only to screw up my eyes till all I could see was fuzz; was convinced I heard someone brake into our apartment building and took too long to reassure myself that there was no way that, if such an unlikely thing had happened in the first place, there any way they would be able to get into my double-locked 1st-floor apartment; I then took ages to get back to sleep again ... oh, hello, I need a pee! Whoopadoo!!
After my second pee of the night, I randomly decided to weigh myself and after being unreasonably irritated with the results, I stewed about it for another hour or two, before finally getting to sleep again ... and we're back at that annoying alarm ...
This is why I dread going to bed. I dread the nightmares. I dread the flashbacks. I dread not being able to sleep. I dread waking up terrified. I dread the dark. I dread not being able to see what's going on around me. I dread the feeling of being completely and utterly alone.
Yes, I know the man I love is sleeping right next to me, but for me, the night time has always held a dreaded fear; the certainty that I am completely alone; the knowledge that no one is out there; the sickening realisation that no one will answer my calls for help.
I took such a very long time to get to sleep; had nightmares; woke up convinced there was a man (other than my hubby) in the room - actually saw the colours of his clothes! - only to screw up my eyes till all I could see was fuzz; was convinced I heard someone brake into our apartment building and took too long to reassure myself that there was no way that, if such an unlikely thing had happened in the first place, there any way they would be able to get into my double-locked 1st-floor apartment; I then took ages to get back to sleep again ... oh, hello, I need a pee! Whoopadoo!!
After my second pee of the night, I randomly decided to weigh myself and after being unreasonably irritated with the results, I stewed about it for another hour or two, before finally getting to sleep again ... and we're back at that annoying alarm ...
This is why I dread going to bed. I dread the nightmares. I dread the flashbacks. I dread not being able to sleep. I dread waking up terrified. I dread the dark. I dread not being able to see what's going on around me. I dread the feeling of being completely and utterly alone.
Yes, I know the man I love is sleeping right next to me, but for me, the night time has always held a dreaded fear; the certainty that I am completely alone; the knowledge that no one is out there; the sickening realisation that no one will answer my calls for help.
Tuesday 10 May 2011
A little about me
I've realised there is really no context at all to my posts (the millions that there are of those of course! sarcastic laugh).
I have started reading a lot of blogs over the last couple of months, which has actually been helping a lot, because I am becoming aware of the huge number of people out there who have similar issues to me - ok, so I know that it's really sad that they have had to go through truama and be struggling with these issues in their daily lives, but going from feeling like you're the only one to realising you're not alone and not a complete psycho is a huge relief.
Every time I read a blog which has posts, but nothing about the author to give it any context or meaning; nothing to help me know if this person is on a journey to wholeness (whatever state that is for them) or simply ranting because they refuse to accept that they are in pain and need to seek help ... yup, this frustrates me. I can't read their blogs in the same way as I do the blogs whereI can have som sort of grounding or context to what is being said ... I feel a little like I am getting an incomplete picture.
On the one hand, I COMPLETELY understand the wish to not give eeryone out there the whole picture ... but on the other hand, there is a part of me that ends up thinking: "If you're out there on the internet, blogging anonymously, what's the difference? Why are you letting people in on your story unless you intend to tell the whole thing? I completely understand not being ready to do that, but then, don't blog!!
So to cut a long story and a huge amount of justification about my feelings short ... I'm going to 1) do an "About Me" page and 2) tell my story/experience/context ... this 2nd thing might be a little confusing or bitty, but that comes from the wish not only to protect my own identity, but also the identity of my siblings, the majority of which know nothing of the core-happenings of my family-of-birth.
It may take a few days, but soon you will see an "about me" page! I hope this will help any readers of this blog, not trigger or hinder them.
Lots of lovely thoughts,
Me
I have started reading a lot of blogs over the last couple of months, which has actually been helping a lot, because I am becoming aware of the huge number of people out there who have similar issues to me - ok, so I know that it's really sad that they have had to go through truama and be struggling with these issues in their daily lives, but going from feeling like you're the only one to realising you're not alone and not a complete psycho is a huge relief.
Every time I read a blog which has posts, but nothing about the author to give it any context or meaning; nothing to help me know if this person is on a journey to wholeness (whatever state that is for them) or simply ranting because they refuse to accept that they are in pain and need to seek help ... yup, this frustrates me. I can't read their blogs in the same way as I do the blogs whereI can have som sort of grounding or context to what is being said ... I feel a little like I am getting an incomplete picture.
On the one hand, I COMPLETELY understand the wish to not give eeryone out there the whole picture ... but on the other hand, there is a part of me that ends up thinking: "If you're out there on the internet, blogging anonymously, what's the difference? Why are you letting people in on your story unless you intend to tell the whole thing? I completely understand not being ready to do that, but then, don't blog!!
So to cut a long story and a huge amount of justification about my feelings short ... I'm going to 1) do an "About Me" page and 2) tell my story/experience/context ... this 2nd thing might be a little confusing or bitty, but that comes from the wish not only to protect my own identity, but also the identity of my siblings, the majority of which know nothing of the core-happenings of my family-of-birth.
It may take a few days, but soon you will see an "about me" page! I hope this will help any readers of this blog, not trigger or hinder them.
Lots of lovely thoughts,
Me
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