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Family of Origin (FOO) Support Thread Part 2
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 663932" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>This is why he should pay your money back to you. From the moment in time when your time together was devoted to exploring the parameters of <em>his </em>pathology. You knew it, Copa. You knew it was dirty and wrong what he was doing. It wasn't that you were too weak to leave. It was that if you left, how would you ever have known whether he was right, and not delving into his own pathology on your time after all?</p><p></p><p>That is the trap we find ourselves in. That is the deal with the devil we make when entering therapy. It is a time for us to suspend judgment. A time to allow another to interpret our deepest selves, our most tender and unhealed parts that we so desperately wish to understand and cannot.</p><p></p><p>How could you leave.</p><p></p><p>And <em>he knew</em> that, Copa.</p><p></p><p>At least my therapist was just a doctor of physical things. Truly, he could not have committed the crime of intention that a bona fide, trained and certified and working at providing therapy and only providing therapy, every day and all day person would be doing in hurting his patient as you were hurt, Copa.</p><p></p><p>For heaven's sake! <em>He had to know what he was doing Copa and he did it to you anyway because he knew you could not leave without creating a different, weaker kind of self concept than the one you came to him with.</em></p><p></p><p>He was a weak and evil man, Copa.</p><p></p><p>And he knew these things about himself. He had to.</p><p></p><p>And he took your money anyway.</p><p></p><p>roar</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Diamond Cedar strikes so fast the tears sprinkle like diamond rain all over the bed.</p><p></p><p>Quick as that, she is gone.</p><p></p><p>He actually said that, huh. How helpless you must have felt, Copa. How he threw you into the thick of it, and how you must have struggled ~ whew.</p><p></p><p>We don't care.</p><p></p><p>We are stronger enough. We always were. Copa. You always were stronger enough to survive him. <em>You only required right witness.</em></p><p></p><p>Know what we are doing now, Serenity and you and M and M's mother and I? Well, since I am still out...er, seeing to the therapist in the realm of the Magical Child (Cedar says, smoothing what's left of her hair, every beautiful strand, into place as a defense mechanism ~ an adult one, a perfectly normal adult one, rather than describing her visit to the therapist, as she did the first time she wrote this) M's mother has gathered the diamond tears and holds them up to the light.</p><p></p><p>Everyone thinks they are very nice.</p><p></p><p>Like in Lil and Jabber's Frenchman and English King Monty Python clip: "Oh yes, it's very nice."</p><p></p><p>Oh look. Here I come. Everyone moves over and we all whisper about the therapist and what happened, there in the realm of the Magical Child. M's mother holds the handful of diamond tears.</p><p></p><p>She is very angry for your sake.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Yes.</p><p></p><p>But then, we still have our marrow. And there is a certain therapist out there who doesn't. Little, diamond tears, tiny ones, in the creases of his clothing, and nothing more; nothing more, at all.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Here is the thing, Copa. Predators do move in on the vulnerable. They do. You know this. Copa, had we been who we are now we would not have seen these therapists; we would have believed ourselves because Copa <em>we knew when we met them, like we always know. </em>But we believe the words, the paperwork, the everything the negative mother within tells us when she whispers we are less than and she is more and so is everyone else. And oh, Copa. We pray a Child's prayer that it is true that they can help us; that it could be true that we won't have to be alone with it, with what we know, anymore.</p><p></p><p>We have learned to disregard what we know, Copa. We name it Magical Child stuff and walk through the real world on our feet like everyone, like normal people do <em>and we believe them</em> when they say what they say though we know better. "But," we think. "Why would they tell us they can help if they cannot? We must be wrong, in our abnormality. <em>So I will trust the therapist. I will require this of myself that I might heal.</em>"</p><p></p><p>We go there expecting to be shamed, Copa, because that is our internal reality. Vengeance. Shame. Terror. Love, moving like a deep river, like a bottomless river, through it all.</p><p></p><p>Literally, Copa? These therapists knew a pale shadow and believe it to be that river we navigate as a matter of course.</p><p></p><p>Stop believing him, Copa.</p><p></p><p>Stop believing him, and stop believing in him.</p><p></p><p>He was a criminal; he was never an ethical person at all, Copa. You never had to believe anything he said. You took it on faith. <em>And he knew that, and he took your money anyway.</em></p><p></p><p>There just is no telling, Copa, what else he took from you.</p><p></p><p>It is yours, Copa.</p><p></p><p>Take it back.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>No Copa. I am not afraid. I am filled with gratitude that somehow, I was given D H. I say goodbye with gratitude each time his eyes touch mine. (Unless he is being a jerk that day.)</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>I do, Copa. And the wonder of it? Is that so does D H. And yes, D H will protect me if he is the one to go first. He will protect me not only financially, but with the way I think, Copa. I have posted before about D H comments regarding my FOO and even, our children. It is right that this should be so, Copa. Well mothered men respond to the Hero motif, to the Hero archetype, with their whole hearts.</p><p></p><p>I love that part of D H. I love the way he honors the mother in his heart, whatever his mother in the world is doing and how he does not flinch from what is or try to cover or excuse or understand it. That is internal locus of control. That is what those of us with internal, rather than external, locus of control are able to do: See with clarity what is.</p><p></p><p>And claim the Hero within by right.</p><p></p><p>That is where we are going, you and me and Sserenity. (Alright. So here is a funny thing. Since I have been in Snake Cedar mode? I keep typing Sserenity with two esses. For heaven's sake.)</p><p></p><p>Anyway.</p><p></p><p>That is where we are going. Internal locus of control. And for me, that means I need to go back to the realm of the Magical Child, because that is where I created defenses and believed in them even though they didn't work and punished myself for thinking like that in secret about my abuser <em>and that is the shame of the thing, Copa. That is the thing that sickens and weakens and shames us. Because that is not normal thinking and we know it.</em></p><p></p><p>That is what that therapist knew Copa, and you did not.</p><p></p><p>Now you do.</p><p></p><p>The Magical Child protected us then to the degree she was able. </p><p></p><p>A Hero, Copa and Serenity.</p><p></p><p>We have been ashamed of our own courage, of our own Hero, and afraid to claim her as our own.</p><p></p><p>Claim her, now.</p><p></p><p><em>And in that hellish arena where everything and...nothing</em></p><p><em>occurred</em></p><p><em>Where mirrored music was broken and mirrored vision</em></p><p><em>obscured</em></p><p></p><p><em>A Wizard and a befuddled magician</em></p><p><em>conferred</em></p><p></p><p><em>In Confucianesque discussion</em></p><p><em>of just what it most certainly might have been</em></p><p><em>That each may or may not have believed</em></p><p><em>himself or the other to have heard</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>So did the game end</em></p><p><em>that neither player would play</em></p><p><em>The magician storm off ~</em></p><p><em>the innocent...</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Wielding that promise</em></p><p><em>spoke on a razor's nicked and crazied edge</em></p><p><em>the bloodied innocent waken</em></p><p><em>Choose, her Name ~ by the Wind</em></p><p><em>by the wolves, and by the Fire </em></p><p><em>in her eyes</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Claim</em></p><p><em>the witch and the Child</em></p><p><em>godforsaken</em></p><p><em>Hold them, safe</em></p><p><em>that which, glass eyed, call the Time</em></p><p><em>that which...lies</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Claim their truths as her own</em></p><p><em>there, in that hellish dawning....</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Taught that which, required to kneel require</em></p><p><em>vengeance</em></p><p><em>Learn vengeance require it become</em></p><p><em>that which...lies</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Step forward ~</em></p><p><em>pain, blue on blue, in those eyes</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Choose, and walk that path less traveled</em></p><p><em>where briars and black-thorned brambles</em></p><p><em>writhe and moan, against the noon</em></p><p><em>Where howling ricochets roar and rock</em></p><p><em>the Child</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Where witches howl for vengeance</em></p><p><em>bald, and glass eyed 'neath the moon....</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>So did the game end that neither player </em></p><p><em>would play</em></p><p><em>The magician storm off ~ </em></p><p><em>the innocent...slip away</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>And in that dark and that thundered awakening</em></p><p><em>where the black and the white ricochet</em></p><p><em>Where witches fly and the Wind taste of vengeance</em></p><p><em>where cripples and beggared innocents pray</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Crimsoned ribbands reflect....</em></p><p></p><p><em>Innocence ~ bloodied innocence, hold the Wind</em></p><p><em>hold, the witch; hold the hunter</em></p><p><em>at bay</em></p><p></p><p><em>***</em></p><p></p><p><em>The white Child be flown</em></p><p><em>ere the magician's return</em></p><p></p><p><em>Call</em></p><p><em>her Name</em></p><p></p><p><em>Call...</em></p><p><em>the Time</em></p><p></p><p><em>Call the sweet, bloodied burn</em></p><p><em>of the phoenix</em></p><p></p><p><em>(Perhaps, Grandmother...</em></p><p><em>the phoenix cries, as it burns.)</em></p><p></p><p><em>White </em></p><p><em>against the carmine pits of Hell</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>White</em></p><p><em>against the bloodied ashes of its birth</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>In baptismal Fire and in Water, reborn</em></p><p><em>a white and a six petaled promise reflect</em></p><p><em>Moon shadowed</em></p><p><em>in pools catacombing the Earth</em></p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>So, here is the thing, Copa and Serenity. Had these therapists of ours never pretended to represent for us the safe harbor we believed them to (and for which they took our freaking money), it is possible that we never would have required ourselves to find and face and claim ourselves ~ our true selves, strange, Magical Child thinking and all.</p><p></p><p>So.</p><p></p><p>We are fine.</p><p></p><p>They can be safely discounted.</p><p></p><p>On we go.</p><p></p><p>Copa, the poetry is given so you can see it, so you can see what it felt like through my imagery. Pay special attention Copa, to the promise, to the moon-shadowed promise, spreading through the pools catacombing the Earth.</p><p></p><p>That is the awakening Self.</p><p></p><p>The phoenix, self immolating and awakening <em>by her own choice.</em></p><p></p><p>Okay. Out of Magical Child realm and back to Normal Realm. That is the difference here, Copa. We can travel between them. We know where we are, when we are in the realm of the Magical Child. </p><p></p><p>We are sane.</p><p></p><p>That was always the secret fear I had to write into poetry and you had to rationalize into words. It was our way of making sense of what, in the realm of the Magical Child we created to survive what was happening to us, seemed so real.</p><p></p><p>We had to believe it then, Copa.</p><p></p><p>We saved our own child selves, there and...we lived. Now, we need to claim the courage in us, and never be ashamed that we lived, again. We did what was required, like we always do. Good, good work.</p><p></p><p><img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/emoticons/starplucker.gif" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":starplucker:" title="starplucker :starplucker:" data-shortname=":starplucker:" /></p><p></p><p></p><p>Copa, one more thing. The money discrepancy with M. That doesn't matter. There is and always has been, a money discrepancy between D H and I. You know this to be true, Copa: Once there is enough money for what is required to create a life, money ceases to mean status. It becomes the tool it is. What passes between one mate and the other is something sacred, something we don't understand. Everything that happens in that relationship is what needed to happen for the correct questions to be uncovered and addressed and resolved. We posted about trust, once. That is where the trust is developed, I think. In that place where both therapists did what they did, M and my D H have not done that<em>. Though, knowing our deep and unhealed vulnerabilities, they might have.</em></p><p></p><p>An ethical man.</p><p></p><p>That is the description of an ethical man.</p><p></p><p>The duration of the relationship doesn't matter, I don't think. Once the healing possible has been accomplished, perhaps that is when relationships end.</p><p></p><p>I don't know.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 663932, member: 17461"] This is why he should pay your money back to you. From the moment in time when your time together was devoted to exploring the parameters of [I]his [/I]pathology. You knew it, Copa. You knew it was dirty and wrong what he was doing. It wasn't that you were too weak to leave. It was that if you left, how would you ever have known whether he was right, and not delving into his own pathology on your time after all? That is the trap we find ourselves in. That is the deal with the devil we make when entering therapy. It is a time for us to suspend judgment. A time to allow another to interpret our deepest selves, our most tender and unhealed parts that we so desperately wish to understand and cannot. How could you leave. And [I]he knew[/I] that, Copa. At least my therapist was just a doctor of physical things. Truly, he could not have committed the crime of intention that a bona fide, trained and certified and working at providing therapy and only providing therapy, every day and all day person would be doing in hurting his patient as you were hurt, Copa. For heaven's sake! [I]He had to know what he was doing Copa and he did it to you anyway because he knew you could not leave without creating a different, weaker kind of self concept than the one you came to him with.[/I] He was a weak and evil man, Copa. And he knew these things about himself. He had to. And he took your money anyway. roar Diamond Cedar strikes so fast the tears sprinkle like diamond rain all over the bed. Quick as that, she is gone. He actually said that, huh. How helpless you must have felt, Copa. How he threw you into the thick of it, and how you must have struggled ~ whew. We don't care. We are stronger enough. We always were. Copa. You always were stronger enough to survive him. [I]You only required right witness.[/I] Know what we are doing now, Serenity and you and M and M's mother and I? Well, since I am still out...er, seeing to the therapist in the realm of the Magical Child (Cedar says, smoothing what's left of her hair, every beautiful strand, into place as a defense mechanism ~ an adult one, a perfectly normal adult one, rather than describing her visit to the therapist, as she did the first time she wrote this) M's mother has gathered the diamond tears and holds them up to the light. Everyone thinks they are very nice. Like in Lil and Jabber's Frenchman and English King Monty Python clip: "Oh yes, it's very nice." Oh look. Here I come. Everyone moves over and we all whisper about the therapist and what happened, there in the realm of the Magical Child. M's mother holds the handful of diamond tears. She is very angry for your sake. Yes. But then, we still have our marrow. And there is a certain therapist out there who doesn't. Little, diamond tears, tiny ones, in the creases of his clothing, and nothing more; nothing more, at all. :O) Here is the thing, Copa. Predators do move in on the vulnerable. They do. You know this. Copa, had we been who we are now we would not have seen these therapists; we would have believed ourselves because Copa [I]we knew when we met them, like we always know. [/I]But we believe the words, the paperwork, the everything the negative mother within tells us when she whispers we are less than and she is more and so is everyone else. And oh, Copa. We pray a Child's prayer that it is true that they can help us; that it could be true that we won't have to be alone with it, with what we know, anymore. We have learned to disregard what we know, Copa. We name it Magical Child stuff and walk through the real world on our feet like everyone, like normal people do [I]and we believe them[/I] when they say what they say though we know better. "But," we think. "Why would they tell us they can help if they cannot? We must be wrong, in our abnormality. [I]So I will trust the therapist. I will require this of myself that I might heal.[/I]" We go there expecting to be shamed, Copa, because that is our internal reality. Vengeance. Shame. Terror. Love, moving like a deep river, like a bottomless river, through it all. Literally, Copa? These therapists knew a pale shadow and believe it to be that river we navigate as a matter of course. Stop believing him, Copa. Stop believing him, and stop believing in him. He was a criminal; he was never an ethical person at all, Copa. You never had to believe anything he said. You took it on faith. [I]And he knew that, and he took your money anyway.[/I] There just is no telling, Copa, what else he took from you. It is yours, Copa. Take it back. No Copa. I am not afraid. I am filled with gratitude that somehow, I was given D H. I say goodbye with gratitude each time his eyes touch mine. (Unless he is being a jerk that day.) :O) I do, Copa. And the wonder of it? Is that so does D H. And yes, D H will protect me if he is the one to go first. He will protect me not only financially, but with the way I think, Copa. I have posted before about D H comments regarding my FOO and even, our children. It is right that this should be so, Copa. Well mothered men respond to the Hero motif, to the Hero archetype, with their whole hearts. I love that part of D H. I love the way he honors the mother in his heart, whatever his mother in the world is doing and how he does not flinch from what is or try to cover or excuse or understand it. That is internal locus of control. That is what those of us with internal, rather than external, locus of control are able to do: See with clarity what is. And claim the Hero within by right. That is where we are going, you and me and Sserenity. (Alright. So here is a funny thing. Since I have been in Snake Cedar mode? I keep typing Sserenity with two esses. For heaven's sake.) Anyway. That is where we are going. Internal locus of control. And for me, that means I need to go back to the realm of the Magical Child, because that is where I created defenses and believed in them even though they didn't work and punished myself for thinking like that in secret about my abuser [I]and that is the shame of the thing, Copa. That is the thing that sickens and weakens and shames us. Because that is not normal thinking and we know it.[/I] That is what that therapist knew Copa, and you did not. Now you do. The Magical Child protected us then to the degree she was able. A Hero, Copa and Serenity. We have been ashamed of our own courage, of our own Hero, and afraid to claim her as our own. Claim her, now. [I]And in that hellish arena where everything and...nothing occurred Where mirrored music was broken and mirrored vision obscured[/I] [I]A Wizard and a befuddled magician conferred[/I] [I]In Confucianesque discussion of just what it most certainly might have been That each may or may not have believed himself or the other to have heard So did the game end that neither player would play The magician storm off ~ the innocent... Wielding that promise spoke on a razor's nicked and crazied edge the bloodied innocent waken Choose, her Name ~ by the Wind by the wolves, and by the Fire in her eyes Claim the witch and the Child godforsaken Hold them, safe that which, glass eyed, call the Time that which...lies Claim their truths as her own there, in that hellish dawning.... Taught that which, required to kneel require vengeance Learn vengeance require it become that which...lies Step forward ~ pain, blue on blue, in those eyes Choose, and walk that path less traveled where briars and black-thorned brambles writhe and moan, against the noon Where howling ricochets roar and rock the Child Where witches howl for vengeance bald, and glass eyed 'neath the moon.... So did the game end that neither player would play The magician storm off ~ the innocent...slip away And in that dark and that thundered awakening where the black and the white ricochet Where witches fly and the Wind taste of vengeance where cripples and beggared innocents pray Crimsoned ribbands reflect....[/I] [I]Innocence ~ bloodied innocence, hold the Wind hold, the witch; hold the hunter at bay[/I] [I]***[/I] [I]The white Child be flown ere the magician's return[/I] [I]Call her Name[/I] [I]Call... the Time[/I] [I]Call the sweet, bloodied burn of the phoenix[/I] [I](Perhaps, Grandmother... the phoenix cries, as it burns.)[/I] [I]White against the carmine pits of Hell White against the bloodied ashes of its birth In baptismal Fire and in Water, reborn a white and a six petaled promise reflect Moon shadowed in pools catacombing the Earth[/I] Cedar So, here is the thing, Copa and Serenity. Had these therapists of ours never pretended to represent for us the safe harbor we believed them to (and for which they took our freaking money), it is possible that we never would have required ourselves to find and face and claim ourselves ~ our true selves, strange, Magical Child thinking and all. So. We are fine. They can be safely discounted. On we go. Copa, the poetry is given so you can see it, so you can see what it felt like through my imagery. Pay special attention Copa, to the promise, to the moon-shadowed promise, spreading through the pools catacombing the Earth. That is the awakening Self. The phoenix, self immolating and awakening [I]by her own choice.[/I] Okay. Out of Magical Child realm and back to Normal Realm. That is the difference here, Copa. We can travel between them. We know where we are, when we are in the realm of the Magical Child. We are sane. That was always the secret fear I had to write into poetry and you had to rationalize into words. It was our way of making sense of what, in the realm of the Magical Child we created to survive what was happening to us, seemed so real. We had to believe it then, Copa. We saved our own child selves, there and...we lived. Now, we need to claim the courage in us, and never be ashamed that we lived, again. We did what was required, like we always do. Good, good work. :starplucker: Copa, one more thing. The money discrepancy with M. That doesn't matter. There is and always has been, a money discrepancy between D H and I. You know this to be true, Copa: Once there is enough money for what is required to create a life, money ceases to mean status. It becomes the tool it is. What passes between one mate and the other is something sacred, something we don't understand. Everything that happens in that relationship is what needed to happen for the correct questions to be uncovered and addressed and resolved. We posted about trust, once. That is where the trust is developed, I think. In that place where both therapists did what they did, M and my D H have not done that[I]. Though, knowing our deep and unhealed vulnerabilities, they might have.[/I] An ethical man. That is the description of an ethical man. The duration of the relationship doesn't matter, I don't think. Once the healing possible has been accomplished, perhaps that is when relationships end. I don't know. [/QUOTE]
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