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Family of Origin
Family of Origin (FOO) Support Thread Part 2
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 662749" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Seekingstrength, you did not wait for your parents' consent to marry as one, or to decide and act as one. You did it. Because that is who you are.</p><p></p><p>You will never, I think, receive their acknowledgment of your right to be a mature women, or any acknowledgement of the harm and disservice they have done these years.</p><p></p><p>To hope for such puts you in the position of being a child, rather than the woman you are who deserves the respect of all, especially theirs.</p><p></p><p>I am wondering if you harbor guilt over this, that on some level still you see yourself through your parents' eyes, as having acted badly or defied them. As if still a child.</p><p></p><p>And deserve punishment, that your mother metes out, still, as if for a 5 year old, not the accomplished and complete woman you. As if you wait still for forgiveness from your Mother for bad acts. Seeing still through your mother's eyes.</p><p></p><p>You are not that child. Even if your mother wants to treat you as such. What she thinks or believes has nothing in the world to do with you. Now.</p><p>___</p><p></p><p>Cedar, I understand better the difference between your mother and sister, as you see them. Let me see if I can explain: in herself your mother can be mean and malicious but she does not seem to try to incite and recruit others to act with her in her meanness. And she may not plot.</p><p></p><p>Your sister does all of these things, it seems, and she does it in disguise. While pretending to be benevolent and loving in all ways, she plots, recruits, incites and strikes....with the minions she recruits. Your mother a lone wolf, your mother a guerilla commander with a cross.</p><p>Your sister harnessing your mom's dysfunction to use it in a targeted way, to hurt others to gain her own ends.</p><p>I like old single-malt, but can drink very little of it, because my stomach got bad. In a brandy snifter. I will drink good English tea and read in the deep leather chairs.</p><p>I am glad they are safe there. I do love and miss my Mother and still cannot believe she is dead, even though she is in an urn in my closet. With her beautiful clothes lest you think I am abusing her memory. It is a very large and lovely walk in closet with original art framed elegantly and elaborately in a frame purchased by my Mother. She was in our bedroom until I had to hide her from my son. When I am strong enough I will speak with you about what to do next with my mother's remains.</p><p>My Mom was kind and warm, but not really. That is to say she could be loving, empathic and compassionate to the extent she wanted to and had control. She was loved by others..as long as she was in a superior relationship...like to cleaning ladies and plumbers and cosmetic sales ladies.</p><p></p><p>My mother could be enormously kind to me, like when I was devastated when my son's hepatitis worsened. I knew I could count on my Mother for empathy when it suited her and cost her not at all. I do not know how to understand a mother like her. She put herself first in all things.expressing her fury, cruelty and control, regardless of the effect and consequence. I loved her.</p><p>Cedar, what kind of person would strike a person who is down, especially a daughter in agony over her child? </p><p></p><p>Think about our poor hearts having to twist up and contort in order to love mothers that are as hurtful as were our own.</p><p></p><p>Imagine the task of developing a self.. to accommodate the hatred and venom of the mothers we modeled...towards us...</p><p></p><p>Honestly I do not know how we have lived through it. I for one did not flourish before my son had problems. I was always broken but I did my best to act is if I was OK and never stopped striving to have a whole life.</p><p></p><p>Actually now with M, is the closest I have ever come. But I never had even the fantasy of being alright, because I knew I was not. Even though I did things that made me seem so, I never felt so to myself.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 662749, member: 18958"] Seekingstrength, you did not wait for your parents' consent to marry as one, or to decide and act as one. You did it. Because that is who you are. You will never, I think, receive their acknowledgment of your right to be a mature women, or any acknowledgement of the harm and disservice they have done these years. To hope for such puts you in the position of being a child, rather than the woman you are who deserves the respect of all, especially theirs. I am wondering if you harbor guilt over this, that on some level still you see yourself through your parents' eyes, as having acted badly or defied them. As if still a child. And deserve punishment, that your mother metes out, still, as if for a 5 year old, not the accomplished and complete woman you. As if you wait still for forgiveness from your Mother for bad acts. Seeing still through your mother's eyes. You are not that child. Even if your mother wants to treat you as such. What she thinks or believes has nothing in the world to do with you. Now. ___ Cedar, I understand better the difference between your mother and sister, as you see them. Let me see if I can explain: in herself your mother can be mean and malicious but she does not seem to try to incite and recruit others to act with her in her meanness. And she may not plot. Your sister does all of these things, it seems, and she does it in disguise. While pretending to be benevolent and loving in all ways, she plots, recruits, incites and strikes....with the minions she recruits. Your mother a lone wolf, your mother a guerilla commander with a cross. Your sister harnessing your mom's dysfunction to use it in a targeted way, to hurt others to gain her own ends. I like old single-malt, but can drink very little of it, because my stomach got bad. In a brandy snifter. I will drink good English tea and read in the deep leather chairs. I am glad they are safe there. I do love and miss my Mother and still cannot believe she is dead, even though she is in an urn in my closet. With her beautiful clothes lest you think I am abusing her memory. It is a very large and lovely walk in closet with original art framed elegantly and elaborately in a frame purchased by my Mother. She was in our bedroom until I had to hide her from my son. When I am strong enough I will speak with you about what to do next with my mother's remains. My Mom was kind and warm, but not really. That is to say she could be loving, empathic and compassionate to the extent she wanted to and had control. She was loved by others..as long as she was in a superior relationship...like to cleaning ladies and plumbers and cosmetic sales ladies. My mother could be enormously kind to me, like when I was devastated when my son's hepatitis worsened. I knew I could count on my Mother for empathy when it suited her and cost her not at all. I do not know how to understand a mother like her. She put herself first in all things.expressing her fury, cruelty and control, regardless of the effect and consequence. I loved her. Cedar, what kind of person would strike a person who is down, especially a daughter in agony over her child? Think about our poor hearts having to twist up and contort in order to love mothers that are as hurtful as were our own. Imagine the task of developing a self.. to accommodate the hatred and venom of the mothers we modeled...towards us... Honestly I do not know how we have lived through it. I for one did not flourish before my son had problems. I was always broken but I did my best to act is if I was OK and never stopped striving to have a whole life. Actually now with M, is the closest I have ever come. But I never had even the fantasy of being alright, because I knew I was not. Even though I did things that made me seem so, I never felt so to myself. [/QUOTE]
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