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Family of Origin
In a totally new place and need perspective? Cedar? Anyone?
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 665559" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>That's what I mean by responsibility, Serenity. It is that quest in us, each of whom was left with so little, to do the right thing. I was thinking about that once, and realized I had not acted from joy. I acted from responsibility, not to my mother, but to doing the right thing by my own definition of what that right thing was.</p><p></p><p>So, as you have posted too, I could meet my own eyes in the mirror.</p><p></p><p>Others respond to their mothers, to their sisters and brothers, with joy...and with respect. We have learned to be so guarded around our mothers, and our families of origin. Until we came together here and began sharing our stories, I was so sure I was the one behaving badly. It is still unbelievable to me sometimes to understand how my family of origin ~ how those pieces fit together. </p><p></p><p><em>(Pray for their peace and therein find our own.)</em></p><p></p><p>I began this response last night. This morning, answering Copa's questions about guilt surrounding what happened to the family D H and I had created...I got something, a core thing regarding the responsible-for-everything a child who has been abused will feel. </p><p></p><p>I got that piece.</p><p></p><p>After all these years.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I'm sorry she did that, Serenity. We have traced the ways our moms and our families of origin seem to practice a kind of hierarchy of importance, or outright exclusion ~ even reaching out to exclude and prevent the family healing after their deaths. Do you think your mom did that <em>because </em>you and your sister were becoming close?</p><p></p><p>How awful for you both.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>If you mean did I understand that the certainty that I was somehow responsible for everything would have come from the way I was brought up? No, I did not link that feeling of responsibility for everything (which I do have, to this day) to that certainty that I must be responsible for what was happening.</p><p></p><p>I wish I'd had a therapist point that connecting piece out to me.</p><p></p><p>That is why I believed, unshakably believed, that I was responsible whether it made sense or not. </p><p></p><p>BOOM</p><p></p><p>I had not put that together before, Copa. </p><p></p><p>Thank you.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>We have each talked about the ways our moms seem to have no memory at all of having done what they did. Now, I know better, because at eighty, my mom drew her arm back as though to to strike me and laughed about it. </p><p></p><p>So she does remember.</p><p></p><p>But I didn't know that then. So it seemed that if she had done those terrible things she absolutely did do and had no memory of it, then it would be possible that I had done such things too, and had no memory of it.</p><p></p><p>That is what I went into therapy to find.</p><p></p><p>What had I done to my daughter that I didn't remember. (Son was still doing great at that time.)</p><p></p><p>And my mother had said "Well, I guess you weren't such a good mom after all, were you." So, somehow, I just knew it was me. Something I had done wrongly in my parenting that did not show, that I could not find.</p><p></p><p>And I never once connected the global responsibility feeling, which I carry to this day, to my belief that I was responsible for what happened to our kids.</p><p></p><p>Isn't <em>that</em> something.</p><p></p><p>And my mom would say things like: "I remember leaving your house and you would all be out there waving and we would think, what a nice family. You just never know what goes on behind closed doors."</p><p></p><p>Stuff like that.</p><p></p><p>Stuff about what D H might have done, and had I thought about that.</p><p></p><p>How could it be that a therapist would not just tell me why I felt responsible?</p><p></p><p>Surely they must have known.</p><p></p><p>Maybe they did and I could not hear it?</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>No. I always knew what my mother had done. I wondered whether I had done those same things to my own children and then, repressed my memory of having done so.</p><p></p><p>Four years later, our son would turn sixteen, begin working, do so well and then, boom. He would fall, too. </p><p></p><p>So...D H and I didn't know. I should say I didn't know. D H told me that of course he wondered how this all could have happened. He would tell me again and again that he spent one night ~ pretty much, all night ~ reviewing our family's workings. His part. My part. Extended family interaction. Friends our daughter had; friends she turned to and music she listened to. Just everything he could think about. He said I was too permissive a mom; that I was forever doing things for the kids they should have been doing for themselves.</p><p></p><p>And he came away with things we both could have done differently, but nothing horrible enough to have created what was happening to all of us.</p><p></p><p>And then, he was sure.</p><p></p><p>He would tell me: I concluded that, as I had found nothing to justify what was happening to daughter, we needed to look elsewhere. There was surely something happening, but it was a waste of time to believe it was something we had done if we could find nothing to justify what was happening. Even if there was something, he said, the correct action was to concentrate on addressing what was happening, now.</p><p></p><p>But I just couldn't see it that way. Now, I realize that, just as surely as I feel responsible for everything that happens today in my interactions, I did that same thing, when our family was so suddenly so troubled.</p><p></p><p>That is the feeling I mean. In my life, I am always feeling I should have known, should have seen this or that coming, should have been able to pull it together.</p><p></p><p>That is the hurt place in the center of me.</p><p></p><p>My fault.</p><p></p><p>I couldn't know where I'd gone wrong as a mom. But I believed I must have.</p><p></p><p>And I never did quite put those two things together until this morning. How incredible.</p><p> </p><p>That's why I felt so sure it was me.</p><p></p><p>Now, why would a therapist have not been able to point that simple connection, that way an abused child would carry that sense of responsibility for everything into her adult life and be weakened, and turn within for the solution? And beat herself up, and shame herself.</p><p></p><p>Copa, that is what we did with those bad therapists, too.</p><p></p><p>We took responsibility.</p><p></p><p>We believe we were wrong. Intellectually we understand. But in the heart of us, no matter what the "crime" is, we are guilty.</p><p></p><p>That's it, Copa and Serenity.</p><p></p><p>That is the direct connection, the why behind the way that we see.</p><p></p><p>Huh.</p><p></p><p>Wow.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 665559, member: 17461"] That's what I mean by responsibility, Serenity. It is that quest in us, each of whom was left with so little, to do the right thing. I was thinking about that once, and realized I had not acted from joy. I acted from responsibility, not to my mother, but to doing the right thing by my own definition of what that right thing was. So, as you have posted too, I could meet my own eyes in the mirror. Others respond to their mothers, to their sisters and brothers, with joy...and with respect. We have learned to be so guarded around our mothers, and our families of origin. Until we came together here and began sharing our stories, I was so sure I was the one behaving badly. It is still unbelievable to me sometimes to understand how my family of origin ~ how those pieces fit together. [I](Pray for their peace and therein find our own.)[/I] I began this response last night. This morning, answering Copa's questions about guilt surrounding what happened to the family D H and I had created...I got something, a core thing regarding the responsible-for-everything a child who has been abused will feel. I got that piece. After all these years. *** I'm sorry she did that, Serenity. We have traced the ways our moms and our families of origin seem to practice a kind of hierarchy of importance, or outright exclusion ~ even reaching out to exclude and prevent the family healing after their deaths. Do you think your mom did that [I]because [/I]you and your sister were becoming close? How awful for you both. If you mean did I understand that the certainty that I was somehow responsible for everything would have come from the way I was brought up? No, I did not link that feeling of responsibility for everything (which I do have, to this day) to that certainty that I must be responsible for what was happening. I wish I'd had a therapist point that connecting piece out to me. That is why I believed, unshakably believed, that I was responsible whether it made sense or not. BOOM I had not put that together before, Copa. Thank you. *** We have each talked about the ways our moms seem to have no memory at all of having done what they did. Now, I know better, because at eighty, my mom drew her arm back as though to to strike me and laughed about it. So she does remember. But I didn't know that then. So it seemed that if she had done those terrible things she absolutely did do and had no memory of it, then it would be possible that I had done such things too, and had no memory of it. That is what I went into therapy to find. What had I done to my daughter that I didn't remember. (Son was still doing great at that time.) And my mother had said "Well, I guess you weren't such a good mom after all, were you." So, somehow, I just knew it was me. Something I had done wrongly in my parenting that did not show, that I could not find. And I never once connected the global responsibility feeling, which I carry to this day, to my belief that I was responsible for what happened to our kids. Isn't [I]that[/I] something. And my mom would say things like: "I remember leaving your house and you would all be out there waving and we would think, what a nice family. You just never know what goes on behind closed doors." Stuff like that. Stuff about what D H might have done, and had I thought about that. How could it be that a therapist would not just tell me why I felt responsible? Surely they must have known. Maybe they did and I could not hear it? *** No. I always knew what my mother had done. I wondered whether I had done those same things to my own children and then, repressed my memory of having done so. Four years later, our son would turn sixteen, begin working, do so well and then, boom. He would fall, too. So...D H and I didn't know. I should say I didn't know. D H told me that of course he wondered how this all could have happened. He would tell me again and again that he spent one night ~ pretty much, all night ~ reviewing our family's workings. His part. My part. Extended family interaction. Friends our daughter had; friends she turned to and music she listened to. Just everything he could think about. He said I was too permissive a mom; that I was forever doing things for the kids they should have been doing for themselves. And he came away with things we both could have done differently, but nothing horrible enough to have created what was happening to all of us. And then, he was sure. He would tell me: I concluded that, as I had found nothing to justify what was happening to daughter, we needed to look elsewhere. There was surely something happening, but it was a waste of time to believe it was something we had done if we could find nothing to justify what was happening. Even if there was something, he said, the correct action was to concentrate on addressing what was happening, now. But I just couldn't see it that way. Now, I realize that, just as surely as I feel responsible for everything that happens today in my interactions, I did that same thing, when our family was so suddenly so troubled. That is the feeling I mean. In my life, I am always feeling I should have known, should have seen this or that coming, should have been able to pull it together. That is the hurt place in the center of me. My fault. I couldn't know where I'd gone wrong as a mom. But I believed I must have. And I never did quite put those two things together until this morning. How incredible. That's why I felt so sure it was me. Now, why would a therapist have not been able to point that simple connection, that way an abused child would carry that sense of responsibility for everything into her adult life and be weakened, and turn within for the solution? And beat herself up, and shame herself. Copa, that is what we did with those bad therapists, too. We took responsibility. We believe we were wrong. Intellectually we understand. But in the heart of us, no matter what the "crime" is, we are guilty. That's it, Copa and Serenity. That is the direct connection, the why behind the way that we see. Huh. Wow. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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