After Narcissistic Abuse Link

[New Leaf]

Thank you Cedar for your response. Copa, I hope your computer problems will be solved soon.

This is very hard. I want to not feel this way. When remembering these things, I am swallowed up with sadness.

After reading your response Cedar, I had the strangest memory. I must have been about 6. We were ice skating. My dad was on the bank talking with someone. There was an area on the pond that never froze over completely. Dad always warned us to stay away from there, the ice was thin and we could fall in.
Sis was goading me, daring me to go there. I refused, she pushed harder. I skated off in the other direction, knowing that I would pay later on for "disobeying" her. She would refute this if I told, so I didn't. She would refute it now, but the memory is so clearly coming through. I know even more so, why the phrase "who is the liar" comes up over and again here.
It was so long ago.

Then this voice came into my head, "They were trying to kill me." All of the other stuff came back....."I dare you to stick this raisin up your nose" I did, I was 3. It was a trip to the doctor to extract it. "Eat this" wooden game piece, I didn't, I must have been 5. Making dirt pies....."I dare you to eat it." "Go into the stream........stay here (in the forest) "we will be right back..." they never came back. They were trying to be rid of me. "I dare you to eat this.....(dog biscuit, it tasted good, by the way.) If you swim to the dock, you will be my friend..." I did, it was forbidden, but I did it. I got into big trouble for that one.

I don't think mom ever knew what was going on. I was the third wheel and my sibs wanted me gone. It probably had a lot to do with moms attention on me as a baby, when they were very small. I was the irritating baby, and they wanted me gone.

At times I played into the game, thinking that if I did what they wanted, I would be accepted. There was nothing further from the truth. It just brought about more teasing and laughter."You are so stupid, fat, cry baby, don't tell mom.....

How did I even survive all of this?

I struggled from a very young age to fit in, to be a part of. I was the oddball. On top of all of that, I was a crier. I understand Copa's wishing she could have been more assertive. I wish that too. It was not in me, or maybe it was, but every time I was defiant, or assertive, told the truth, it was a tiny fire of hope and strength that was squelched out.

If you were to envision the little girl that you were, what is it that she needs you to hear about her sadness? What does she need from you, Leafy. Coming through this, I learned that, whatever else happened to that little girl that was me, the worst thing that happened to her was when I deserted her, too.

I think what I needed to hear was that my sadness was justifiable. It was a normal reaction to being hurt and scared. I should have been held and comforted, not sent to my room. They should have left me there, then, instead of making me go with my sibs. They hated me for that.
I was in a constant state of apprehension.
At the same time, I just wanted to fit in, to be accepted. I wanted to have a friendship with my sibs. This happened at times, but the rug would soon be pulled out from under me. I would go home, and try to tell my mom, (before I gave up and stopped telling), she wouldn't hear me. So, I would go to my room and cry. "Why are you crying now?" there was a certain amount of exasperation and disappointment, frustration from mom.
I would swallow my feelings. I think I learned not to trust my feelings. I think I felt crazy Cedar, from a young, young age, that something was wrong with me. "Toughen up". Dad would coerce me into smiling, and when a forced little smile broke through my tear stained face and trembling lower lip, I was praised.
What I needed to hear about my sadness is that it was okay. Feel it and get it out. There was a reason for it, I was being constantly hurt, pushed and pulled into so many directions.

It is interesting, the other day when I was writing, I was feeling those old feelings through and through, as if it was happening all over again, but now it is more from an observation viewpoint. The feelings have subsided.

What I needed, Cedar, was for the torment to stop. I needed my parents to hear me, and stop sending me to the woods with the huntsmen, who were there to rip out my heart.
I was not safe, I needed to be safe. There was no one to rescue me.

Would it help you to post about the feelings in more depth? Whose voice is it, speaking the phrases you chose to describe yourself? What would balanced look and feel like, and whose voice is it telling you that to be unbalanced is wrong?

It was mom and dad. I was supposed to be happy, no matter what.
The feeling state that I go to is unbalanced. Usually, when I hit these points, well the book I am reading talks of it as being over stimulated......I hibernate, I become a hermit.
I become this big ball of emotion, I cannot think straight. My judgement is out of whack. I am super sensitive and raw. I am trying to find words for this. You know how it is said that a fearing dog is more dangerous than an aggressive one? Maybe it is that, Cedar, that I am so raw and vulnerable that I.......don't trust my reactions to people. Not that I am some raving maniac. I over think, over feel, over react.
It is during this time it is best for me to be alone.

But I am writing here. Writing about what I went through as a child, brings on this rawness.

It also is a part of me that breaks through every so often that is based solely on emotion. I can actually feel the switch go off in my brain. If I am able to have this time to myself, it is usually when I am the most creative. I can envision my next painting, or sculpture. I keep a notebook and pen close, thoughts come soaring into my head in rhyme, If I capture those thoughts, they become poems. But, I have to write them down as they come, or it is lost.
I have volumes of notebooks of this scribbling.

Many years ago, I used to see a homeless woman, who had a cart with all kinds of stuff, but what would catch my eye, is the numerous pieces of cardboard covered with cursive writing. She would sit at the fast food place near where I used to work and write and write on paper, napkins, anything that she could write on.

For an instant I would think "That could be me."

Not, "I could publish my work." I think Cedar if I was one of those children you write of who were supported and cared for, I would be a painter, or a children's book author. I would have the confidence to do those things. Instead, I compare myself to this homeless lady I saw years ago.

"That could be me."
A lonely, misunderstood, crazy, disheveled cast off from society.

As I write this Cedar, I am thinking, that was me, as a child.
It could be me, in the near future, because my home is still not a safe place for me.
It is me.
A cast off.

It is such an internal part of me now,
as I struggle to be with this man, my husband, who I can't even talk to.
He has retreated further and further into himself and his tv.
I am not allowed to express my opinion, because it "irritates him."
If my thoughts differ and I dare say so, he gets louder and louder, yells over me.
There is no discussion.

I have urged him to get help, it is no way to live with another human being who supposedly loves you.
If I try to express my feelings, he is annoyed and tells me to "Get out of here".
If I cry, he laughs and makes fun of me.
I don't know if his health conditions are making him colder, but it seems so.

So I am thrown into a caldron of sadness and hurt at my past,
my present situation with moms impending demise,
my two d cs, my grands,
and my non-relationship.

Happy Valentines Day to me.

I am lonely, at home, if I let those lonely feelings overcome me.
I shrink them down to a pit in my stomach.

I avoid hubs. I try not to speak too much with him because I do not want conflict.
There is no win in it.
No change, things just get worse.

So my friends, if I am off base at times, please forgive me.

Honestly, I don't know what to do.
I am stuck right now.
I have talked with my doctor about what is going on with my husband, but it is all on him to get help.
He doesn't see the need to, and I am caught between wanting to leave to save myself (at times),
the reality that I am not financially able to and a stubborn refusal because Rain is just waiting for it to happen.

Then there is the love......for what once was, or what could be.

There is this fear also, that my hubs is slipping into dementia and anger. It is either that, or what has happened with our two, the grands has driven him over the edge.
He won't go to counseling.
It happened to his mother.
She has full blown alzheimer's.
No one knew at first, but in retrospect, her personality changes, anxiety and anger were the first signs of a troubled, aging, ill mind.

So there you have it.

Only time will tell.

I remember posts where you have written that we chose the men we are with for a reason.

All I can think of now, is that I am reliving what I went through as a child,
and there is still no where to turn for safety.

So I have to be strong, and swallow the pain.

I find ways to occupy myself with my work, and art, taking care of my boy.

Hubs goes to work and cooks sometimes, washes clothes.

The rest is left up to me.

There is no closeness.
No kiss hello or goodbye.


That's it.

I am taking one day at a time and trying to hold on to my sanity.

It is hard sometimes. Other times, I pick myself up by my bootstraps and carry on, feeling grateful for my health and that I have a roof over my head.

I am able to recoup and throw myself into sculpting and gardening. But there is this constant ache inside of me. I ache for my son also, who has no relationship to speak of with his father.

As I write this we are in the parlor, and hubs is in the bedroom, with the door closed.
Most days are like this now.
I do not speak to him, unless I am spoken to and try to stay even keeled with responses,
so as not to rile him up.

This is not my choice.
It is a part of "for better or worse."
I do not know how far "worse" will go.
Only time will tell.

You are so welcome, Leafy. It is a hard thing, to face and examine and put to rest those old feelings, unquestioned for so long and assumed to be true things when they were lies, all along.

Yes, the lies were there. They still are.
The true things are, too.
The truth is, life is very, very hard.

But I am growing stronger in spite of all that I am dealing with.
I don't think that would have happened without CD.

I know what I went through in my childhood was real and it was wrong.
I know that what I am dealing with now is not right, but have not quite figured out what to do.
In the meantime, if I find myself slipping, I will find help.

I am grateful for this forum, and the ability it gives to witness to myself and get feedback from you guys.

In a way, I am back on that pond so long ago skating on thin ice, because I already have so much going on, without going back to my past and opening that chapter and examining it.
Because I am reliving it with my hubs.
I weave in and out of sadness, then occupy my mind with other things.
I don't want to linger there for too long, when the wave of feelings come,
I try to lay low and ride it out.

I am dreaming of having my own studio one day, and throwing myself into my art.
That is my goal.
Paddling and walking save me, I have a little bit of sanity at work with some good friends there.
I will be okay.
What I go through with hubs now,
is not much different from what I grew up with.

I survived it then, I will survive it now.

I have a class that will take up a lot of my time for 2 1/2 months.
I may not be able to visit as much here.

I am grateful for your help.

leafy

 

[BusynMember]

Wow, leafie. How sad. You deserve so much better.
You desrve that studio and paddling and walking and a light happiness and time to yourself to heal.
I hope one day, if your husband continues to mistreat you, you choose to at least try a trial away from him. I hope it becomes possible.
I think many of us marry childhood repeats. My first husband constantly criticized and belittled me and I reacted to it with tears and anger, like I had as a child. I had to eventually leave or be swallowed up in a sea of despair and sadness, and it was hard to leave. I felt so guilty, especially because I stll had one younger child.
Yes,bshe is the child who found drugs. Yes, I felt and still feel guilty about that too.
I hope you can sometime swim the river of happiness, putting your needs in a special magic box because you are a sweet and wonderful person and deserve happiness.
Peace.

 

[New Leaf]

Thank you so much for your kind reply Serenity. I don't think there is one right answer. Hubs has been tough to live with, but has many good qualities. I can't figure out if it is the pain of losing our two, which he does not talk about, health issues, medication, etc. All I know is that he is cocooning himself. Hopefully, he will see the need for counseling and we can work through this. 36 years is a long time. We have been through a lot together. I will keep praying for answers and take it one day at a time. All of this is very tiring. Deep breaths and one strong step at a time.........another mountain to climb.........

You are sweet and wonderful yourself.


I hope all is well with you and your family.
(((HUGS)))
leafy

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

This is very hard. I want to not feel this way. When remembering these things, I am swallowed up with sadness.

Leafy, with great compassion for you, for your sadness and confusion and pain, please know that you can work with the feelings. That is how I am doing it, and Copa, too. And IC, who is here with us and clarifies and recharges and is part of all of us but doesn't post in so often. What we do Leafy (not me or Copa, but all humans) is label our feelings and experiences based on a kind of automatic response. The channel for our automatic responses to our memories becomes deeper each time we relive our memories. That channel of feeling is what we can work with Leafy, to help ourselves become aware of how to begin rerouting the river of feeling. Did you ever read the myth of Sisyphus? He was given an impossible job. That of cleaning the never-ending material building and building in the Augean stables.

It was impossible.

But he did it...by changing the flow of a River.

That is what we are doing, too.

Changing the flow of the River.

We are helping those little girls (or boys) we were, overwhelmed by thoughts and feelings and experiences we just were not equipped to process, to change the course of our emotional River. When we are finished, the Augean stables, thought impossible to clean, will sparkle.

We work with what we have taught ourselves to feel about our rememberings, Leafy.

When you recognize the overwhelming sadness, Leafy...who is it that recognizes that you feel sad? That part of you, that unperturbed observer, is your core self. We learned to understand how to feel about our emotions from people who may not have known how to do that, themselves. That is okay. What happened to each of us is what did happen to us. What we told ourselves about what happened to us ~ that is where we can work now, today, to heal our interpretations of self.

Leafy, if you have not read The Power of Now, by Eckhart Tolle, he will help you more clearly understand and recognize your core self. This is the intuitive self. This is the core of us, the part that knows what it knows. Our emotional selves are the way we were taught to understand ourselves and our feelings by other people. We were little kids. Some things happened that frightened or left us feeling isolated and afraid, and we were not cherished through it or taught how to understand either what happened or our responses to it. All of our lives, we have responded in that same way that helped us survive the event. If we were scared then and covered it with bravado and it worked, we will cover our fear with bravado for the rest of our lives. If we were lost and turned right and it worked, for the rest of our lives, we will turn right when we are lost. We will not be dissuaded because that emotional River roars in automatically telling us what it knows to help us survive.

We are all doing the best we know, Leafy.

Nobody gets this right.

It's a question of how we interpret ourselves when we are in a tough spot. If we have not been cherished and taught well as children, we freeze. We remember the isolation, the abandonment, the way nothing seemed to work. The River thunders through us and the feelings overwhelm us and we are lost in them. And headed for the rapids, and the white water.

That is where we can begin to learn to change the course of the River.

We can put a finger in the dike.

Whatever beginning imagery works for you Leafy, that is how to begin. Just with the intention that, though you may be overwhelmed today, that is okay. These are your feelings, and having feelings is wonderful. It means we are alive. If we can name the feelings, we have a beginning way to understand them. If we can say "I feel sad." Instead of "I am sad." That changes everything just a little, because we are giving our brain a different message about what to do with our emotions.

We have to be our own best mothers, Leafy. Or, our own best fathers. If you can envision someone ~ maybe the mother of another little girl who was kind and who you can imagine talking to about the feelings, I wonder what she would tell you. It would be something warm and practical and strengthening, something that could help you know that all wonderful little girls (or boys) feel overwhelmed sometimes, but that you are safe, now.

Then, change your self talk in that way, Leafy.

Listen to the words you use to describe yourself. Hear the hurt in them, or the confusion or anger or whatever the emotion is. Really hear the words that are ugly, and don't say them to yourself ever again.

This is how to begin healing, Leafy. It will be so short a time until you are listening and treating yourself more kindly automatically.

That is actually the beginning step. Resolve to be kinder to Leafy. Not kind, not invariably, perfectly anything at all. Only kinder to Leafy. Every day, remember that your intention is to be kinder to Leafy.

You will be amazed at the results, New Leaf, as your brain begins to listen and adjust accordingly.

Contrast "Kinder to Leafy" to "swallowed in sadness."

Your brain only knows what you tell it. Even if you are swallowed in sadness, that is okay. Even if you are mean to Leafy for a minute or two, that is okay, too. Your intention, the words you speak to yourself and the future you intend for yourself is only this: I would like so much to be kinder to Leafy.

I was the third wheel

No. That is what you told yourself about yourself because that is what someone taught you to feel, Leafy.

It was a lie, Leafy.

There is no such thing as a child that is not beautiful and full to bursting with potential. Someone hurt you. Then, even worse, they taught you to hurt yourself. They changed the course of your River, Leafy. You had no choice but to believe them when you were a little girl. But please, for the sake of that beautiful little girl who was you, stop believing they had the right to make you see yourself through their eyes.

We have to stop seeing ourselves through the eyes of the abuser. We have to learn to see our abusers abusing us through our own eyes. Then, suddenly, we can see the wrongness in things we were not able to see as wrong, not in all of our lives, Leafy.

Here is a story, an example. I know sometimes what others hear when I tell this story is that my whatever was worse than someone else's. So, don't do that, okay? The story is told to illustrate how our thought Rivers are changed when we are abused. The abuse itself, the person who did the abusing ~ none of that matters, and they do not matter, to our healing.

We are the ones who decide how things will be for us now, Leafy. Now that we are adults, we can do that. We could not do that, as children. We were victimized. We broke. We believed them. We broke, again. And this time, what we came to believe of ourselves at their hands and in their eyes was internalized and we carried that imagery of ourselves for the rest of our lives.

Here is the story. I was in Family of Origin Group Therapy. Therapy was ending. The therapist asked what one thing we had learned and would take away from the experience with us. This was mine: "That it was as wrong for my abuser to kick me as it was for her to kick that dog."

I knew all my life that it was wrong for her to have kicked our dog, Leafy. In all my life, I never knew it was wrong ~ as wrong ~ for her to kick me.

I didn't have a way to know anything different than what I had been raised to know about myself, Leafy. It wasn't that I didn't know mothers should not kick their children. It was that mine had. So, my brain told me that must be okay, because it happened. And that underlying mindset was with me all my life. The course of my emotional River was changed. Until I could step outside the feelings, I was the feelings.

But the feelings were messed up. Because sane people do not kick their dogs or their children.

But I only could know what I knew.

Same for you, too.

We are so fortunate though, because we know just how to ferret out who the liar is, here.

Them.

People should not kick their dogs or their children. People should not try to get other people to go where the ice is thin.

But sometimes, people do those exact things.

We need to stop believing it was okay for them to do that to us. Or to anyone. Or any dog or cat or animal. (I still get so steamed about her kicking the dog.)

Whoever the abuser was, by virtue of the fact that we see ourselves in certain ways, the abuse did happen. Who or how or why is important, but not relevant to our healing here. Our job is to change the course of the River and clear the stable so clear, clean, sparkling water flows everywhere.

All that filth that was in the stables, all that trapped energy, is compost. Rich, nurturing, life-giving compost. It's all stuck in the stable. No good to anyone.

Then this voice came into my head, "They were trying to kill me."

Actually, they were. They were children, so they did not intend to actually harm you and would have felt awful if something terrible had happened to you...but had you not protected yourself, you could so easily have drowned, Leafy.

You might have died, that day.

But you didn't. You were here on purpose then, and you are here on purpose, now. Healing the way we automatically think of ourselves is how we prepare for whatever it is we were born to do.

Here on purpose, New Leaf.

You are here on purpose, and by design. Here in the world, here in this life you are living, here on this site with all of us.

You matter.

Whatever your other roles in life, teacher or nurse or mother or wife or sister or daughter...you, specifically, intrinsically, matter.

:O)

So, here are some other examples of words that were so cruel, Leafy. Please consider what I posted to you about the first beginning resolution to be kinder to yourself. Not kind. Not the perfection of continual perfection.

Just...kinder.

Soldiers suffering from PTSD have to start there, too.

Kinder.

I was the irritating baby, and they wanted me gone.

All babies are irritating. That is why God made them so cute.

You are so stupid, fat, cry baby.....

Ouch.

I struggled from a very young age to fit in, to be a part of. I was the oddball.

This is River thinking. To fit in to some other form than you. You are here on purpose. Exactly as you are, exactly who you are, with exactly the experiences that have formed you.

I will go through the rest of your post tomorrow for those kinds of words or phrases, Leafy. Will you do something for me, please? Will you remember, tomorrow morning when you first look into the mirror, that phrase "Kinder to Leafy."

That will be such a good beginning.

It helped me.

Cedar

 

[New Leaf]

That channel of feeling is what we can work with Leafy, to help ourselves become aware of how to begin rerouting the river of feeling. Did you ever read the myth of Sisyphus? He was given an impossible job. That of cleaning the never-ending material building and building in the Augean stables.

Thank you for your compassion and your response Cedar, I truly appreciate your help. It is very kind of you to take the time to share with me, what you have learned and the steps you are taking.

I found something on the Augean stables and forgive me for the correction but
it was Hercules who diverted two rivers to flow through the stables.

He did it in one day.

If only we could accomplish our task in one day. I guess if we look at a day as a period of time rather than literally 24 hours, then we will get there.

Sisyphus was punished for tricking death, he had to roll a rock up a hill, only to have it roll back down, then roll it up again, over and over, for eternity. OUCH.

I think I would rather be Hercules and clean out the poop........

Thank you Cedar, I will be kinder to Leafy......

(((hugs)))
leafy

 

[Copabanana]

Camus introduces his philosophy of the absurd: man's futile search for meaning, unity, and clarity in the face of an unintelligible world devoid of God and eternal truths or values. Does the realization of the absurd require suicide? Camus answers: "No. It requires revolt." He then outlines several approaches to the absurd life. The final chapter compares the absurdity of man's life with the situation of Sisyphus, a figure of Greek mythology who was condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of pushing a boulder up a mountain, only to see it roll down again. The essay concludes, "The struggle itself [...] is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."

The work can be seen in relation to other absurdist works by Camus: the novelThe Stranger (1942), the plays The Misunderstanding (1942) and Caligula(1944), and especially the essay The Rebel (1951).

 

[Copabanana]

The fifth Labour of Heracles (Hercules in Latin) was to clean the Augean stables. Eurystheus intended this assignment both as humiliating (rather than impressive, like the previous labours) and as impossible, since the livestock were divinely healthy (immortal) and therefore produced an enormous quantity of dung. These stables had not been cleaned in over 30 years, and 3,000 cattle lived there. However, Heracles succeeded by rerouting the rivers Alpheus and Peneus to wash out the filth.

 

[New Leaf]

Yay Copa you are back.......
leafy

 

[New Leaf]

The final chapter compares the absurdity of man's life with the situation of Sisyphus, a figure of Greek mythology who was condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of pushing a boulder up a mountain, only to see it roll down again.

I found it interesting that in another article this myth was compared to our modern day lives of repeating the same tasks, over and over, housework, a mundane job, etc. Even in simple repetitive tasks- we, too, can be happy with our lives.....It reminds me of Cedar's Benedictines and chopping onions.....

All of our lives, we have responded in that same way that helped us survive the event. If we were scared then and covered it with bravado and it worked, we will cover our fear with bravado for the rest of our lives.

Yes, I find this to be true. False bravado, and even self deprecation. It is almost as if I can fend off potential hurt, by sabotaging myself. No one can hurt me, any worse then I have already hurt myself.

What happened to each of us is what did happen to us. What we told ourselves about what happened to us ~ that is where we can work now, today, to heal our interpretations of self.

Although it is hard, I am glad that I have reached this place. I tried to work this out with my sibs, a few times, but they rejected and scoffed at the thought. "You need to forget this stuff, the past is the past." Now I am understanding that I am not living in the past, it is living in me and directing the flow of emotions. This is why, when things get stressful and raw, it all comes whirling back, the feelings are the same.

Leafy, if you have not read The Power of Now, by Eckhart Tolle, he will help you more clearly understand and recognize your core self. This is the intuitive self. This is the core of us, the part that knows what it knows. Our emotional selves are the way we were taught to understand ourselves and our feelings by other people

I ordered the book, Cedar. It should be coming next week. Thank you.

We will not be dissuaded because that emotional River roars in automatically telling us what it knows to help us survive.

I would like to learn this, to not let those feelings take over. To wash out all of the excrement left over from those experiences.

If we have not been cherished and taught well as children, we freeze. We remember the isolation, the abandonment, the way nothing seemed to work. The River thunders through us and the feelings overwhelm us and we are lost in them. And headed for the rapids, and the white water.

I have felt that paralysis, a thousand times over.

Whatever beginning imagery works for you Leafy, that is how to begin. Just with the intention that, though you may be overwhelmed today, that is okay. These are your feelings, and having feelings is wonderful. It means we are alive. If we can name the feelings, we have a beginning way to understand them. If we can say "I feel sad." Instead of "I am sad." That changes everything just a little, because we are giving our brain a different message about what to do with our emotions.

I will work on this Cedar. Feelings are wonderful, but they are feelings, a part of me, not me.

change your self talk in that way, Leafy.

Thank you, I will try to catch myself.

Really hear the words that are ugly, and don't say them to yourself ever again.

This is how to begin healing, Leafy. It will be so short a time until you are listening and treating yourself more kindly automatically.

This would be freeing.

No. That is what you told yourself about yourself because that is what someone taught you to feel, Leafy.

It was a lie, Leafy.

It was a lie Cedar, I was their little sister, not a burden or a thing to get rid of. I understand why I was so shy as a child, I took that third wheel feeling with me, even carried it over to my adult life. I have always felt there was something about me that didn't fit in. It was a realization of differences in people which I do celebrate, but there was always this underlying message in myself that I was the odd one. It was in a way giving permission to be treated badly in some instances. Does that make sense?

You had no choice but to believe them when you were a little girl. But please, for the sake of that beautiful little girl who was you, stop believing they had the right to make you see yourself through their eyes.

You know Cedar, I guess it took first for me to believe what happened was real. I went from wondering if I was crazy and it was my imagination.....it wasn't. I know it was wrong, but was it real? I have internalized so much....why do we do that?

We broke. We believed them. We broke, again. And this time, what we came to believe of ourselves at their hands and in their eyes was internalized and we carried that imagery of ourselves for the rest of our lives.

This is true, that internalization that I have carried. That little voice inside my head, self doubt. I have fought it all of my life.

I knew all my life that it was wrong for her to have kicked our dog, Leafy. In all my life, I never knew it was wrong ~ as wrong ~ for her to kick me.

I am sorry Cedar this happened to you. You are such a smart, kind sweet person.

Who or how or why is important, but not relevant to our healing here. Our job is to change the course of the River and clear the stable so clear, clean, sparkling water flows everywhere.

All that filth that was in the stables, all that trapped energy, is compost. Rich, nurturing, life-giving compost. It's all stuck in the stable. No good to anyone.

I like this thought to turn it all into something that enriches. Also, that it is my job to change the course of the river, regardless if there is validation or not. I had always thought part of the key to my healing would be acknowledgment from my FOO that this stuff happened. That acknowledgement will never be there. I can be my own worst enemy, but I am also my only advocate in this. Except of course for you guys, who have helped me see so much. For this I am forever indebted.

You might have died, that day.

But you didn't. You were here on purpose then, and you are here on purpose, now. Healing the way we automatically think of ourselves is how we prepare for whatever it is we were born to do.

Here on purpose, New Leaf.

Thank you Cedar, this made me cry. Joyful, thankful tears.

All babies are irritating. That is why God made them so cute.

You are funny, yes that is why they are cute.

This is River thinking. To fit in to some other form than you. You are here on purpose. Exactly as you are, exactly who you are, with exactly the experiences that have formed you.

Embrace the mat. Though these memories are painful, yes they did form me.

I will go through the rest of your post tomorrow for those kinds of words or phrases, Leafy. Will you do something for me, please? Will you remember, tomorrow morning when you first look into the mirror, that phrase "Kinder to Leafy."

I think I will make a sign over my mirror, be kinder to yourself. I write it to many here in my responses. Be kind to yourself.
I was thinking that all of these years my weight has yoyo'd up and down, how good it feels to be fit, eat right. I think I have retained weight as a punishment and a sort of protection. I am going to work on a be kinder way of taking better care of myself......
Thank you Cedar. Your response was very uplifting and empowering. There are no words to properly express my appreciation.

Abundantly grateful hugs
Leafy

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

Hey, Copa.



Finally you are back. We have missed your bright and fiery and I love it that you are here.

***

Leafy, you are right. I am forever getting names mixed up, or forgetting them altogether.

***

So, I read all the Wiki on Camus. Then, I read about the way his work fit in to the various political systems, back in the day. It (Camus' work) fits in here on FOO in the sense that we too are deciding and declaring our emotional realities. In real life, I am reading a book about the Jesuit influence on science: Infinitesimal. That book too revolves around the way we see reality, and around how we are confounded at pretty much every turn and always have been, and about how hard it is to know what is real and whether that matters.

So, I just thought Camus especially was an interesting note to have been played on this thread. I think I had not read The Misunderstanding.

Thank you, Copa.

***

I loved seeing the visual representations of Hercules and Sisyphus and the depiction of the stables. Next, I read about Prometheus, punished by Zeus for bringing Fire to mankind, the myth thought to explain regeneration of the liver. It was the liver, and not the heart, that was believed to be the seat of emotion.

Again, information relevant to us.

Then my internet connection went chaotic.

But I think the half mortal / half divine Hercules rescued Prometheus, bringer of Fire to mankind, from the white eagle tearing into his liver.

This ties in to Joseph and the concepts of slavery and shunning and joy.

So we are not the only ones deciding to reorder our worlds.

Cedar

I am thinking again of Camus. What a perfect note to have struck, Copa.

 

[Copabanana]

In his Letter to an Algerian Militant, Camus writes to Aziz Kessous, a journalist and socialist like himself, that:

We know nothing of the human heart if we imagine that the Algerian French can now forget the massacres at Philippeville and elsewhere. And it is another form of madness to imagine that repression can make the Arab masses feel confidence and esteem for France. Hence we are pitted against each other, condemned to inflicting the greatest possible pain on each other, inexpiably. The idea is intolerable to me and poisons each of my days (126-27).


What sickened Camus so much about the acts of violence was that they often harmed/killed the innocent, e.g. civilians, and that they only succeeded in perpetuating new acts of violence (and more killing), in doing so also denying the sanctity of human life.


UNJUST VIOLENCE

Terrorism

The violence that Camus opposed “should not be confused with armed resistance and guerilla attacks on military targets” (Carroll 108). When a soldier enters combat, they do so knowing they may as likely die as kill; whatever happens to them, they have entered that environment on their own volition. The same does not go for a civilian, who often has no means of defense, and sometimes doesn’t even see the violence coming. Such acts of violence—assassinations, bombings, napalm, torture, et cetera—are terroristic. They don’t rectify acts of violence in the past, and they actually cause rather than prevent violence in the future. An act of counterterrorism, for example, is still an act of terrorism, and will most likely incur yet another act of terrorism—countercounterterrorism, if one will. It is the kill that keeps on killing.

 

[Copabanana]

In addition to committing the senseless acts of violence treated above, Camus also takes issue with the society and the individuals in said society just going along with it all as though it has nothing to do with any of them. He writes in the essay Neither Victims nor Executioners that in our world a human being does one of two things. One option is accepting the present reality. However, by that acceptance, we also accept, whether we want to or not, responsibility for the violence present and future, no “I was just following orders” or “the end justifies the means”—putting human lives second to abstract ideas—excuses. The second option in our present reality is to reject it, but rejecting it means that we actually have to do something about it; anything else is lackadaisical “No, don’t” lip service (37).

Choose, and act. Both of these force the individual to actually acknowledge the world around them, and realize that there are other people in it. Violence against anyone suddenly becomes more real once we put faces to the ideas. Either way a person chooses, and however they then choose to act, Camus concludes that “[t]he essential thing is that people should carefully weight the price they must pay” (55).

 

[Copabanana]

Camus was referring to a sort of simplistic morality he wrote about in his early essays, the principle of sticking up for your friends, of valuing bravery and fair-play.

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

This is true, that internalization that I have carried. That little voice inside my head, self doubt. I have fought it all of my life.

I would interpret this to be: Because those around you were so certain of themselves, you may have labeled your inability to draw instantaneous conclusions (without adequate knowledge ~ no one gets everything right, every time) self doubt. You labeled not being a boorish braggart of a person who believes he or she is automatically correct about every smallest thing shy. But what if you are neither shy nor self doubting so much as someone who effortlessly sees both sides of every issue, enabling yourself to savor and wring meaning from and create new interpretations ~ some right, some off in left field ~ while others are digging in, reworking and defending their positions?

It truly is all in our self talk, Leafy. So whoever it was that taught us the way we were to think about ourselves, that is where the self talk is coming from. That is why we believe it. Because we trusted those around us, those in our families, to have our best interests at heart.

We are adults, now. When we understand the harm in some of the ways we were taught to see ourselves, we have the power, the absolute power, to change those interpretations of self. As you post Leafy, notice the words you use to describe yourself. Imagine other interpretations of those words.

Those interpretations are as valid as the hurtful interpretations.

You know Cedar, I guess it took first for me to believe what happened was real. I went from wondering if I was crazy and it was my imagination.....it wasn't. I know it was wrong, but was it real? I have internalized so much....why do we do that?

I don't know why, Leafy. I only know that if other things in our upbringing were less than cherishing or supportive, then we have that tendency to think badly of ourselves. That is the place we can work, now.

How we see ourselves. How we interpret what we see. Whether that is a cruel interpretation. Whether there are things about ourselves we wish to change. Where to begin. Everything so complex. That is why I say it is best for us to begin simply: Kinder. And as the feelings come up for us (we are meant to heal, meant to be whole beings, contributing to everything that is) we can choose compassion. For ourselves, for our abusers (eventually). We can look at what we need to look at for our own sakes and go back as we understand more, seeing not only ourselves, but our abusers too, with compassion.

I don't know why bad things happen, but I don't think anyone sets out to do bad.

I think we are good.

Things just get all confused. The next thing you know, there we are defending positions we don't really understand why we took in the first place.

And then, maybe this is true, that is when bad things happen.

Whatever. The point I was making (and I do have one, per Ellen D.) is that we can trust ourselves to guide us well in our healing. We set the intent. We remind ourselves of kinder and of compassion for ourselves, for those little girls or little boys who were us and who not only did not get what they needed, but may have had horrific, terrible things happen to them. But here we all are. Alive. We lived.

We can do anything.

Anything at all, and there is no one to stop us now but ourselves and our decency and compassion and joy. Which sounds hokey, but is actually pretty true.

I am sorry Cedar this happened to you. You are such a smart, kind sweet person.

Thank you, Leafy. In my secret heart, I believe we all are kind, smart, so sweet. But we have been hurt. All of us, hurting in some ways, joyful in so many ways, strong in so many ways. Life is long, but it seems very short. If we can get it that sometimes, people who hurt us do not even see us. They see their own hurt. They are trapped in a kind of nightmare and don't know how to see their ways out.

Then, which is our only responsibility, we can learn to reinterpret what happened to us and transform ourselves by healing and coming whole. And that is how we all make all the difference in the world for one another.

Very hard to do that, though.

Which is why I had to put my mother in the CD motorcycle.

Ahem.

It's working well for me, to do that. It isn't that I don't love my mother and my sister and brothers and all of my family. It truly is that for some reason that doesn't matter because I am never going to be able to figure out the why of it, my family of origin has followed and come to believe in self destructive, defeatist, victim-requiring thinking.

I cannot change that for them.

But I have all the power in the world to change how they taught me to value my own beautiful life, my own breath and all the colors in the world.

We are so fortunate to be living.

I can be my own worst enemy, but I am also my only advocate in this.

I am so proud of you, New leaf.

You know I am all about internal versus external locus of control.

External is where they matter more than we do, to ourselves.

Internal locus of control is where we are there, firmly ensconced in our own centers Leafy, guiding our paths with our chosen words. For me: Kinder, and compassion. (Just for the record, you guys. Sometimes I slip into biatch mode. Go figure. So, we have to stop demanding of ourselves that we are perfect, or that we have to sacrifice even one minute of our beautiful being alive beating ourselves up because we did something nasty or foolish. Once we learn that, we can be kinder to ourselves, and learn to see our ridiculous errors we are bound to make with compassion. And the next thing we know, and I swear this is true...we are able to be kinder, and more compassionate, to everyone else in our lives.

Even our D H.

And then, they are kinder to us.

Huh.

Thank you Cedar, this made me cry. Joyful, thankful tears.

:O)

Good, Leafy. That means you believed it. Think about it, though. Why else would everything be exactly as it is. We don't have to understand it. I don't. But sometimes, years later, I will see how everything mattered.

So, all we can do is our best we know.

And to do our best, to be our strongest, best selves, we need to heal.

Except of course for you guys, who have helped me see so much. For this I am forever indebted.

You know, when I think about Copa and Serenity and IC and how they stayed right with me in my own roaring around half-cocked healing and trying to figure things out, I am ~ I don't know, Leafy. It's supposed to be this way. It's happening exactly this way all over the world and it has always been this way. It's a very hard thing to be human. We need to help one another, and we do.

Remember what Mr. Rogers said? No matter how bad things get, if we look for them, we will see the helpers.

That's us.

We're doing a pretty good job too, I think, all of us together here.

We are doing good work.

It's an amazing thing, when you think about it. This site has changed our lives. Not only FOO Chronicles, but the way we all support one another here, and feel for one another and for one anothers' children.

And Dolly.

Cedar

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

He writes in the essay Neither Victims nor Executioners that in our world a human being does one of two things. One option is accepting the present reality. However, by that acceptance, we also accept, whether we want to or not, responsibility for the violence present and future, no “I was just following orders” or “the end justifies the means”—putting human lives second to abstract ideas—excuses.

This is beautiful, Copa.

Here again, for me, I see the dynamics in our families of origin, and especially, in unification through shunning.

These ideas are crucially important in this time. Daughter and I were just talking about how what seems to be happening could have possibly begun.

That is the crux of it, isn't it. Putting human lives ~ or any lives ~ second to abstract ideas.

Thank you, Copa.

I never liked reading Camus. I very much like the material you've quoted for us.

Cedar

 

[Copabanana]

If we can get it that sometimes, people who hurt us do not even see us. They see their own hurt. They are trapped in a kind of nightmare and don't know how to see their ways out.

Søren Kierkegaard... proposed that each individual—not society or religion—is solely responsible for giving meaning to life and living it passionately and sincerely ("authentically").[1

Then, which is our only responsibility, we can learn to reinterpret what happened to us and transform ourselves by healing and coming whole.

A central proposition of Existentialism is that existence precedes essence, which means that the most important consideration for individuals is that they are individuals—independently acting and responsible, conscious beings ("existence")—rather than what labels, roles, stereotypes, definitions, or other preconceived categories the individuals fit ("essence"). The actual life of the individuals is what constitutes what could be called their "true essence" instead of there being an arbitrarily attributed essence others use to define them. Thus, human beings, through their ownconsciousness, create their own values and determine a meaning to their life.[22]Although it was Sartre who explicitly

I cannot change that for them.

But I have all the power in the world to change how they taught me to value my own beautiful life

A central proposition of Existentialism is that existence precedes essence, which means that the most important consideration for individuals is that they are individuals—independently acting and responsible, conscious beings ("existence")—rather than what labels, roles, stereotypes, definitions, or other preconceived categories the individuals fit ("essence"). The actual life of the individuals is what constitutes what could be called their "true essence" instead of there being an arbitrarily attributed essence others use to define them. Thus, human beings, through their own consciousness, create their own values and determine a meaning to their life.

Once we learn that, we can be kinder to ourselves, and learn to see our ridiculous errors we are bound to make with compassion. And the next thing we know, and I swear this is true...we are able to be kinder, and more compassionate, to everyone else in our lives.

This contrasts with the notion that "bad things don't happen to good people"; to the world, metaphorically speaking, there is no such thing as a good person or a bad person; what happens happens, and it may just as well happen to a "good" person as to a "bad" person.[24]A person can choose to act in a different way, and to be a good person instead of a cruel person. Here it is also clear that since humans can choose to be either cruel or good, they are, in fact, neither of these things essentially.

 

[Copabanana]

my computr broke. boughra tablet hate it tommorow will buy laptop. reading a long lots 2 say

 

[New Leaf]

Camus was referring to a sort of simplistic morality he wrote about in his early essays, the principle of sticking up for your friends, of valuing bravery and fair-play.

Valuing bravery and fair play, that would have worked wonders in FOO.....

But what if you are neither shy nor self doubting so much as someone who effortlessly sees both sides of every issue, enabling yourself to savor and wring meaning from and create new interpretations ~ some right, some off in left field ~ while others are digging in, reworking and defending their positions?

Okay so this is going to be on my next t-shirt. I would much rather see it with your definition, Cedar. I am not so "shy" anymore, I do go out on a limb at times, but there is always that nagging inner voice......it is time to tame that down.

That is why we believe it. Because we trusted those around us, those in our families, to have our best interests at heart.

I think as far as being "sensitive" yes, I think I believed that was something I needed to toughen up, to "fix". I do think I have PTSD, too. Growing up was rough for me, I don't feel bad writing that either, well tonight at least......

As you post Leafy, notice the words you use to describe yourself. Imagine other interpretations of those words.

Yes. I will try to use kinder words.

How we see ourselves. How we interpret what we see. Whether that is a cruel interpretation. Whether there are things about ourselves we wish to change. Where to begin. Everything so complex. That is why I say it is best for us to begin simply: Kinder.

Simply is good. Otherwise it could be overwhelming.

We can look at what we need to look at for our own sakes and go back as we understand more, seeing not only ourselves, but our abusers too, with compassion.

Yes.

Anything at all, and there is no one to stop us now but ourselves and our decency and compassion and joy. Which sounds hokey, but is actually pretty true.

I actually like hokey.

Then, which is our only responsibility, we can learn to reinterpret what happened to us and transform ourselves by healing and coming whole. And that is how we all make all the difference in the world for one another.

But I have all the power in the world to change how they taught me to value my own beautiful life, my own breath and all the colors in the world.

I love this Cedar, yes you do have the power, we all do.

Internal locus of control is where we are there, firmly ensconced in our own centers Leafy, guiding our paths with our chosen words. For me: Kinder, and compassion. (Just for the record, you guys. Sometimes I slip into biatch mode. Go figure. So, we have to stop demanding of ourselves that we are perfect, or that we have to sacrifice even one minute of our beautiful being alive beating ourselves up because we did something nasty or foolish.

Biatch mode....in kinder language, diplomatically self assertive, fiery, motivated by moxy, fiercely independent.

Once we learn that, we can be kinder to ourselves, and learn to see our ridiculous errors we are bound to make with compassion.

We are human, we all make mistakes, but not everyone beats themselves up for their mistakes.

Remember what Mr. Rogers said? No matter how bad things get, if we look for them, we will see the helpers.

That's us.

That is us. Mr. Rogers was awesome. Look for the helpers. They are out there. We can be our own helpers, too.

It's an amazing thing, when you think about it. This site has changed our lives. Not only FOO Chronicles, but the way we all support one another here, and feel for one another and for one anothers' children.

It is an amazing thing. I am eternally grateful to have found this site.
There is nothing quite like it.
Thank you Cedar.
Copa, I hope you are able to get your laptop.
Your voice is needed here.

(((HUGS)))
leafy

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

The final chapter compares the absurdity of man's life with the situation of Sisyphus, a figure of Greek mythology who was condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of pushing a boulder up a mountain, only to see it roll down again. The essay concludes, "The struggle itself [...] is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."

I am happy.

So we are back to Nietzsche's we love life because we love ~ that love came first. A small step then to the belief that love is where we came from and what we are, which is what every religious belief that I know of does say, at the heart of itself.

For what was Sisyphus condemned, again?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sisyphus

For loving his own life. For tricking the gods; for committing deceit after deceit to trick Death. For chaining Thanatos (Death) with his own chains and preventing mortal death, but not mortal aging. According to one piece I read this morning, it was the god Ares (God of War) who freed Thanatos because there was no end to war without death.

So, then I had to know what went on between Nietzsche and Camus.

http://www.camus-society.com/camus-nietzsche.html

And found this. We are not the only ones fascinated by the slavery question.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Master–slave_morality

Thank you, Copa!

I love the things you tease me into thinking about.

***

So, regarding the Sisyphus myth and our conversation relative to what exactly the material is that is washed out of the Augean stables by whatever number of Rivers (and why would there be two rivers). I will look into that next. But in the meantime, I found this imagery:

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/chat/2984323/posts

Okay. So now, I am blown away.

You know how I love that imagery of life forms throughout time gazing into the magic of the stars.

So, there is a kind of dung beetle named...The Sisyphus Dung Beetle. There is all kinds of imagery of Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill. And there is all kinds of imagery of dung beetles as Sisyphus.

And yet, within that ball of dung the beetle pushes, navigating by the stars, is everything that matters to her.

Everything.

I understand Copa's wishing she could have been more assertive. I wish that too. It was not in me, or maybe it was, but every time I was defiant, or assertive, told the truth, it was a tiny fire of hope and strength that was squelched out.

So, you learned it was inappropriate to feel defiance or anger. In other words, you learned it was not safe to honor your own feelings. You began watching their eyes to know which feelings were okay. You would not allow them to enslave you Leafy...but like I did too, you enslaved yourself. You fought back...and forgot what you were fighting for.

Real.

In giving up internal locus of control, we refuse to feel what we feel. We feel what the abuser finds appropriate.

That is emotional slavery. It weakens and confuses us, and leaves us vulnerable to the predator because we are not authentically able to trust our own centers or even to know them. Leafy, championing your right to feel the acceptable emotion instead of real rage or real grief or real betrayal, that is where the crime committed against you is. That the the heart, the core, the crux of the issue. Every time you lay claim to the fallacy that there is something different about your ability to process input, the crime committed against you is re-invoked. By you this time, Leafy. One of the few emotions you have been left able to claim to define yourself and to help you define your place in the world is Sad. Is oversensitive. That is where you should rage, Leafy. Right there. There is no such thing as too sensitive. There is how we feel and how we are helped to learn how to come to terms with our feelings, some of them ~ all of them ~ overwhelmingly intense. Over sensitive means: My reality matters more than yours.

That is the lie they told you Leafy, and authenticity and its attending right of self definition is what was stolen from you.

There is the wonder of sensitivity to color or sound or taste or touch or nuances of thought or music or any of the hundred thousand things that make up a life.

There is no such thing as too sensitive.

That would be like saying "Too alive."

Maybe that is what they were saying, New Leaf.

Stop saying it to yourself. You are free of them, now. Now, the job at hand is learning to accept yourself for the wonder of having been created, at all.

Look at those stars, Leafy.

How extraordinary it is, to be alive.

***

So, what do you feel about the sibs encouraging you to skate on thin ice?

You posted about every aspect of that experience Leafy, but not how you felt.

You posted what they felt. But Leafy, they don't matter. They didn't matter then and they matter less than that now because what happened and how you understood it at the time cannot be changed. Nothing can be changed. How we interpret ourselves and our reactions. Who we tell ourselves we are and how we believe we have a right to be. That we can change.

How could you be betrayed by your own sibs, whose obligations as human beings it was to protect you, and then, come somehow to believe that any response you would have would be "too sensitive".

We can live from our own centers Leafy, open and free and without the rattletrap judgment of perfection, which clomps along dragging defeat behind it.

Every time.

We get to make mistakes. We get to be considered terminal f*** ups. We get to drop things and fall apart and not be famous and, as Copa teaches us, we get to say: "Unfortunately, I was ugly."

And then, we get to learn from all those things and go on to create our lives, loving every smallest instant simply because we are here, and we get to risk and choose and celebrate that we woke up this morning.

Who cares what someone else thinks about that.

We are the ones who woke up as ourselves. None of their business. Any more, really, than how they awaken is our business.

But we can say hello, along the way.

Cedar

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

I love this dung beetle / stars imagery so much. That will be my next avatar, you guys. It blows me away.

I love it so much.

Cedar