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I feel like Im dying inside!!!
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 657790" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>When you do it, if you do it, I will be there Copa, and we all will be there. Here is a quote: "Right needs no defense. Just good witness."</p><p></p><p>Stay scrupulously anonymous, Copa. This is for you. You merit privacy. You are fighting for your sanity, for your soul.</p><p></p><p>Sacred ground. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>It is having nothing to hide <em>from ourselves </em>that is healing. As I posted and posted, I was able to see my abuser through my adult eyes, instead of seeing me through my abuser's eyes. When I couldn't do it, when the disgust or self hatred went wordlessly deep, I called in witnesses to see for me. It isn't about our abusers, Copa ~ it is about being done with, about reclaiming.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>You are like me and like SWOT and like so many of us here, Copa. Women (and men) who have met challenges, created their lives in spite of everything our pasts predicted, and <em>by our choice</em> intend to have <em>what is ours by right</em>. </p><p></p><p>Access to our full selves.</p><p></p><p>They had no right to do what they did, Copa. Decency forbade it. As you go through it, as you release the polluted obscenity that was all they left us with, you will come to the other side. Clarity of vision is an astonishing thing. </p><p></p><p>It is disconcerting.</p><p></p><p>Hold on.</p><p></p><p>When a traumatic floats up, all gaseous and stinking and scary, I feel a version of those same feelings that broke me away from myself. It's like a honeycomb, or sometimes, a hornet's nest. Sometimes there is the sweetness of honey. Sometimes there is nothing but knowing you have nothing to fear, that the hornets are long dead and you are immune. Sometimes it is like drinking poison, facing and savoring the pain to learn its stink and its chemical structure and its intensity <em>and live through it.</em></p><p></p><p>Sometimes it is wordless horror, or such intense sorrow, such loneliness, when you know there is no one to help you, now.</p><p></p><p>We had to break off pieces of ourselves for that too, Copa.</p><p></p><p>I see you.</p><p></p><p><em>I see you back.</em> </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>True, Copa.</p><p></p><p>It was the only way to survive what happened to us.</p><p></p><p>But we lived.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I never was able to figure out what was true. That is why there cannot be compassion for them, for our abusers. Not yet. Not now. <em>Our living compassion is how they did this to us, Copa. That is why we put everything away the way that we did. We believed them.</em></p><p></p><p><em>They were wrong.</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>True.</p><p></p><p>It is the scent of those toxins that guides us to our own healing now, Copa. </p><p></p><p>I see you.</p><p></p><p><em>I see you back.</em></p><p></p><p>And this time? I am the Red Queen; and I will have my way.</p><p></p><p>I had to see it that way, Copa. It's really hard to stay present to it.</p><p></p><p>And these are only the echoes of what was done to us.</p><p></p><p>And we were just little girls, Copa. Or beautiful young women, in that special way that all young women are so breathtakingly beautiful. Or young mothers, with our babies and our lives and our happiness.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Yes.</p><p></p><p>Our abusers broke us open, left us vulnerable; we didn't even know that, Copa. </p><p></p><p>We do, now.</p><p></p><p>Shall I do it? Post again that I see the abuser, the abusive incidents? Yes, because it is as much for me as it is for you. </p><p></p><p>I see you.</p><p></p><p><em>I see you back.</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>There is an old Beatles song: The love you <em>take</em> is equal to the love you make. It is all about taking, rolling around in it, relishing the good, deep laughter of your own Presence.</p><p></p><p>I had no idea I was so pretty, so like, brilliantly light-filled, inside. I don't even have to say "I see you / I see you back" now Copa, unless I want to scare whatever is left to be changed in me. The brightness is so intense that the smaller things shrivel up and die.</p><p></p><p>Which leaves the bigger ones, of course.</p><p></p><p>On we go.</p><p></p><p>F you, mom.</p><p></p><p><img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/2012/mcsmiley1.gif" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":mcsmiley1:" title="mcsmiley1 :mcsmiley1:" data-shortname=":mcsmiley1:" /></p><p></p><p>In the saddlebag on my Conduct Disorders motorcycle of determined intent is a needlepoint "F you, mom." Your name, and SWOT's were added to that, also in beautifully done needlepoint, some time back, Copa.</p><p></p><p>I posted about that. I don't know whether you saw it.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 657790, member: 17461"] When you do it, if you do it, I will be there Copa, and we all will be there. Here is a quote: "Right needs no defense. Just good witness." Stay scrupulously anonymous, Copa. This is for you. You merit privacy. You are fighting for your sanity, for your soul. Sacred ground. *** It is having nothing to hide [I]from ourselves [/I]that is healing. As I posted and posted, I was able to see my abuser through my adult eyes, instead of seeing me through my abuser's eyes. When I couldn't do it, when the disgust or self hatred went wordlessly deep, I called in witnesses to see for me. It isn't about our abusers, Copa ~ it is about being done with, about reclaiming. You are like me and like SWOT and like so many of us here, Copa. Women (and men) who have met challenges, created their lives in spite of everything our pasts predicted, and [I]by our choice[/I] intend to have [I]what is ours by right[/I]. Access to our full selves. They had no right to do what they did, Copa. Decency forbade it. As you go through it, as you release the polluted obscenity that was all they left us with, you will come to the other side. Clarity of vision is an astonishing thing. It is disconcerting. Hold on. When a traumatic floats up, all gaseous and stinking and scary, I feel a version of those same feelings that broke me away from myself. It's like a honeycomb, or sometimes, a hornet's nest. Sometimes there is the sweetness of honey. Sometimes there is nothing but knowing you have nothing to fear, that the hornets are long dead and you are immune. Sometimes it is like drinking poison, facing and savoring the pain to learn its stink and its chemical structure and its intensity [I]and live through it.[/I] Sometimes it is wordless horror, or such intense sorrow, such loneliness, when you know there is no one to help you, now. We had to break off pieces of ourselves for that too, Copa. I see you. [I]I see you back.[/I] True, Copa. It was the only way to survive what happened to us. But we lived. I never was able to figure out what was true. That is why there cannot be compassion for them, for our abusers. Not yet. Not now. [I]Our living compassion is how they did this to us, Copa. That is why we put everything away the way that we did. We believed them.[/I] [I]They were wrong.[/I] True. It is the scent of those toxins that guides us to our own healing now, Copa. I see you. [I]I see you back.[/I] And this time? I am the Red Queen; and I will have my way. I had to see it that way, Copa. It's really hard to stay present to it. And these are only the echoes of what was done to us. And we were just little girls, Copa. Or beautiful young women, in that special way that all young women are so breathtakingly beautiful. Or young mothers, with our babies and our lives and our happiness. Yes. Our abusers broke us open, left us vulnerable; we didn't even know that, Copa. We do, now. Shall I do it? Post again that I see the abuser, the abusive incidents? Yes, because it is as much for me as it is for you. I see you. [I]I see you back.[/I] There is an old Beatles song: The love you [I]take[/I] is equal to the love you make. It is all about taking, rolling around in it, relishing the good, deep laughter of your own Presence. I had no idea I was so pretty, so like, brilliantly light-filled, inside. I don't even have to say "I see you / I see you back" now Copa, unless I want to scare whatever is left to be changed in me. The brightness is so intense that the smaller things shrivel up and die. Which leaves the bigger ones, of course. On we go. F you, mom. :mcsmiley1: In the saddlebag on my Conduct Disorders motorcycle of determined intent is a needlepoint "F you, mom." Your name, and SWOT's were added to that, also in beautifully done needlepoint, some time back, Copa. I posted about that. I don't know whether you saw it. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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