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Update: Detachment as Spiritual Practice, and an Update
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<blockquote data-quote="scent of cedar" data-source="post: 614236" data-attributes="member: 1721"><p>I agree about the mothering role, Recovering. What I would add, at least for me, is that my caretaking was sealed in shame. As with so much in my life, a pat on the back or an "atta boy" only means I have not failed...yet. It was a pleasant surprise to me that I was able to do something so well. Know how I know I did it well? My mother was showing off how clean everything was, even the closets, to one of her friends.... By that time, I had learned to take pleasure in my competence myself, and her praise, especially the showing off what a great mom she was because she had created a built in maid out of me, didn't please me overly much. So interesting to post to you like this, Recovering. This is another memory, remembered with a tinge of dead fish in the air around it, but never fully understood. Other kinds of abuse grew out of that competence. An abusive person will not stand for any smallest sign of recovery, in her victim.</p><p></p><p> </p><p>*******</p><p></p><p>I thought about what you said, Recovering, about your having healed in increments. Here is the difference. Here is why I can face it square on and respond differently once I see a way and a reason to do that. The abuse I suffered was so patently abuse that I <u>always knew</u> it was wrong. Because I knew it was wrong and yet, <u>it happened to me</u>, I made sense of it the way all abused kids do. Though response to me in the real world was a different thing (especially as I approached and entered puberty and then, entered the heady, powerful world of a physically healthy young woman), I knew the inner truth of fraudulence. It was this truth that reverberated when my first therapist (a male) experienced what I now understand was transference. I had gone to him to be judged, to find out where I had gone wrong, what I had done to my daughter. </p><p></p><p>And he judged me.</p><p></p><p>Though he was wrong in what he did, he opened all the echoing chambers and compartments where the demons were stored.</p><p></p><p>And Frankenstein looked like a little kid's toy, compared to what I found there. I had already worked so hard to get there, to find those old traumas.</p><p></p><p>KABOOM!</p><p></p><p>Ew.</p><p></p><p>But I lived.</p><p></p><p>One day, if you like, I will post one of the poems from that time, here. It was through the poetry that I was able to recover myself. Through the poetry, and through an excellent female therapist who had me in family of origin group therapy after our first individual session.</p><p></p><p>I was not able to speak of what happened with the first therapist, even with her, for years.</p><p></p><p>Anyway. Blah, blah, blah, poor Cedar. </p><p></p><p>My point, and I do have one, as Ellen Degenerist likes to say :O), is that your abuse seems to have been couched in different terms. You posted once that your mother had apologized, had confessed that she did what she did because her mother had done the same to her. You would have had to understand and rejudge and remake the tradition behind that kind of abuse. It would have seemed more shadowy, less certainly wrong, easier to be left without a clear path to healing.</p><p></p><p>All I have ever really had to do is confront the shame of what happened happening to <u>me.</u> In essence, my abuse comes down to rationalizing why I was punished. I always knew the punishing was disconnected and wrong. This understanding enables me to discount every abusive word and act I can uncover. (Another key Recovering, as I reread to post: I have to uncover them to heal them. "Who could find them all?") </p><p></p><p>I just had to be healthy enough to see it for what it was, and to see ongoing abuse for what it is.</p><p></p><p>Your path, without a clear villain, has been more difficult, harder to find and follow.</p><p></p><p>So it seems to me, this morning.</p><p></p><p>*************</p><p></p><p>So it occurred to me this morning, Recovering, that, unlike me, you have had to question and teach yourself so thoroughly, have had to dig so deep even to understand why a thing was wrong, before you could see it, before you could define it well enough, to heal it,, that you had to take it in increments. The danger in every healing is that old "pass it back or pass it on". Is the lust of vengeance, is the understanding that, having survived your abuse <u>you can shame, you could actually destroy, your abuser, publicly and privately.</u></p><p></p><p>But is that who you want to be? (I keep getting your healing confused with my own, Recovering. Vengeance was a way big thing, for me. Maybe, not so, for you.) </p><p></p><p>So far, Recovering, so very, very good, for both of us.</p><p></p><p>Recreation of the self, allowing permission for different, less safe kinds of judgments and actions, is scary, when our role models have been so dangerously ill.</p><p></p><p>I try to be careful, to think about it...but sometimes, I just can't see the right action, and I have to wait. Which is why difficult child kids drive me batty. Something must be done, NOW.</p><p></p><p>What I am learning, from you Recovering, and from everyone here on the site, is that maybe, that thing that has to be done now is to wait. To watch and see and listen.</p><p></p><p>To give ourselves the gift of time.</p><p></p><p>*************************</p><p></p><p>I quoted your comment on your sister because that is a healthy and healing way to see mine, too.</p><p></p><p>Thank you, Recovering. It is so difficult to know what is the healthiest way to think about these things.</p><p></p><p>I really like that way of seeing.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="scent of cedar, post: 614236, member: 1721"] I agree about the mothering role, Recovering. What I would add, at least for me, is that my caretaking was sealed in shame. As with so much in my life, a pat on the back or an "atta boy" only means I have not failed...yet. It was a pleasant surprise to me that I was able to do something so well. Know how I know I did it well? My mother was showing off how clean everything was, even the closets, to one of her friends.... By that time, I had learned to take pleasure in my competence myself, and her praise, especially the showing off what a great mom she was because she had created a built in maid out of me, didn't please me overly much. So interesting to post to you like this, Recovering. This is another memory, remembered with a tinge of dead fish in the air around it, but never fully understood. Other kinds of abuse grew out of that competence. An abusive person will not stand for any smallest sign of recovery, in her victim. ******* I thought about what you said, Recovering, about your having healed in increments. Here is the difference. Here is why I can face it square on and respond differently once I see a way and a reason to do that. The abuse I suffered was so patently abuse that I [U]always knew[/U] it was wrong. Because I knew it was wrong and yet, [U]it happened to me[/U], I made sense of it the way all abused kids do. Though response to me in the real world was a different thing (especially as I approached and entered puberty and then, entered the heady, powerful world of a physically healthy young woman), I knew the inner truth of fraudulence. It was this truth that reverberated when my first therapist (a male) experienced what I now understand was transference. I had gone to him to be judged, to find out where I had gone wrong, what I had done to my daughter. And he judged me. Though he was wrong in what he did, he opened all the echoing chambers and compartments where the demons were stored. And Frankenstein looked like a little kid's toy, compared to what I found there. I had already worked so hard to get there, to find those old traumas. KABOOM! Ew. But I lived. One day, if you like, I will post one of the poems from that time, here. It was through the poetry that I was able to recover myself. Through the poetry, and through an excellent female therapist who had me in family of origin group therapy after our first individual session. I was not able to speak of what happened with the first therapist, even with her, for years. Anyway. Blah, blah, blah, poor Cedar. My point, and I do have one, as Ellen Degenerist likes to say :O), is that your abuse seems to have been couched in different terms. You posted once that your mother had apologized, had confessed that she did what she did because her mother had done the same to her. You would have had to understand and rejudge and remake the tradition behind that kind of abuse. It would have seemed more shadowy, less certainly wrong, easier to be left without a clear path to healing. All I have ever really had to do is confront the shame of what happened happening to [U]me.[/U] In essence, my abuse comes down to rationalizing why I was punished. I always knew the punishing was disconnected and wrong. This understanding enables me to discount every abusive word and act I can uncover. (Another key Recovering, as I reread to post: I have to uncover them to heal them. "Who could find them all?") I just had to be healthy enough to see it for what it was, and to see ongoing abuse for what it is. Your path, without a clear villain, has been more difficult, harder to find and follow. So it seems to me, this morning. ************* So it occurred to me this morning, Recovering, that, unlike me, you have had to question and teach yourself so thoroughly, have had to dig so deep even to understand why a thing was wrong, before you could see it, before you could define it well enough, to heal it,, that you had to take it in increments. The danger in every healing is that old "pass it back or pass it on". Is the lust of vengeance, is the understanding that, having survived your abuse [U]you can shame, you could actually destroy, your abuser, publicly and privately.[/U] But is that who you want to be? (I keep getting your healing confused with my own, Recovering. Vengeance was a way big thing, for me. Maybe, not so, for you.) So far, Recovering, so very, very good, for both of us. Recreation of the self, allowing permission for different, less safe kinds of judgments and actions, is scary, when our role models have been so dangerously ill. I try to be careful, to think about it...but sometimes, I just can't see the right action, and I have to wait. Which is why difficult child kids drive me batty. Something must be done, NOW. What I am learning, from you Recovering, and from everyone here on the site, is that maybe, that thing that has to be done now is to wait. To watch and see and listen. To give ourselves the gift of time. ************************* I quoted your comment on your sister because that is a healthy and healing way to see mine, too. Thank you, Recovering. It is so difficult to know what is the healthiest way to think about these things. I really like that way of seeing. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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