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Work and Germany; Benedictines and Buddhists: Attitude
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 671755" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>So...that shine on her is what was taken from me. That is why she shines the way she does, in my memories of her. There is nothing beautiful or even, especially bright about intentionally destroying your own child, or about seeing to it that your own children will see one another through thinning films of jealousy and hatred and scarcity.</p><p></p><p>The question is less why did she hate me than why did I stay. I stayed because I believed her; believed she was correct in her assessments. That is where the battle was lost. I could not leave because I could not see my way out or believe it when I did see it. She was my mother. I believed her. Why would she tell me things that were not true.</p><p></p><p>But she lied. Probably, the exact places where the wounds are most intense are the places, the strengths, she could not eradicate ~ not in this oldest child.</p><p></p><p>So I will go ahead and reclaim them, then.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I have learned from this post that each place in my memory where my mother shines is a wound.</p><p></p><p><em>What will I be left with, when they are healed?</em></p><p></p><p><em>What, in all the hells that ever were, will I hold myself together with, then? It was not necessary for her to love me. I loved her, and I knew I did because of the way she shines, in my memory.</em></p><p></p><p>I am not so sure I want to take that away.</p><p></p><p>Though she may not have loved me, I was able to love her.</p><p></p><p>That will be the cost of this phase of my healing.</p><p></p><p>That is a very high cost.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>So, it is a few minutes later. I am thinking of Nietzsche: We love breathing because the love came first.</p><p></p><p>That is who we are. The other is illusion. At the end of this, I will love my mother as a human, and not a magical, being.</p><p></p><p>Or not.</p><p></p><p>That is my energy she shines with, in my memory. How incredibly put together we are. How lovely, that she should shine like that; that is how it is for us, then: We are meant to heal. What beautiful signposts, once we knew what they were.</p><p></p><p>Like I always do, I will leave the how I got here in for someone coming along behind.</p><p></p><p>I think we may have been the ones who made them shine that way. It was probably that the reality was too ugly and too scary to accept. Another instance then, of learning to see through our own eyes and never to see ourselves through theirs. It could be that in every instance where our abusers shine in our memories, we were damaged; traumatized, we may have justified the trauma by elevating the abuser. In this way, we made sense of what was lost. Of what we lost, so they could dance in that peculiar light.</p><p></p><p>Who says things like that to their own daughter.</p><p></p><p>"Just don't think, Cedar."</p><p></p><p>"I'm not reading this sh**t"</p><p></p><p>"Welllll. I guess you weren't such a good mother after all, were you."</p><p></p><p>And after our daughter was so troubled but before our son fell too, she said:</p><p></p><p>"We would leave your house after having dinner and there you would all be, waving. And your father and I would say: "What a nice family." It just goes to show that you never know what goes on behind closed doors."</p><p></p><p>And I believed that, too.</p><p></p><p>How awful for all of us that I did.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>And when I was a mom at home, that sense that I was incompetent because I was not working, was not doing anything worthwhile. And when I went back to work.... Here is a story: So, I had decided to go back to work. The kids were probably eleven and twelve. I had applied for work, and was telling my mother I had done so. She said: "I would never hire you." So, here is the mystical and kind of awful thing that happened. I believed her, of course I did. Nonetheless, like I always do, I admired myself for having tried, even if no one would hire me and I had seemed foolish to everyone for trying, for having applied at all, sort of wasting everyone's time. Understand too that a piece of this for my mother was that it was a good thing I was married, or I would not even be able to make a living. So...I was offered the position. And on the day they called to tell me I had it, I was so sure I did not have it, that no one would hire me, that the woman from Human Resources had to say: "Do you still want the position?" I kept hearing her building up to telling me she was sorry but of course, they could never hire someone like me. What she was really saying was more and more stuff about benefits and whatever hours I wanted and so on.</p><p></p><p>And I was so surprised that someone had hired me.</p><p></p><p>And when I told my mother that I had been hired, she said: "You belong at home, taking care of your husband." There was other stuff there about D H capacity to make money, and about D H having said he would rather I not work. My mother implied I was putting that arrangement in danger and where would I be when D H left me with nothing but a job where someone like me could be hired. </p><p></p><p>A part time job, at that.</p><p></p><p>I took the position. Part time, full benefits. I was told that if I chose to go full time, supervisory position was very probable.</p><p></p><p>The company reimbursed for education. That is how I began going back to school.</p><p></p><p>My mother taunted me about school, about why I would even think to do something like that. It was my father, as I began my Junior year, who said that if I did complete the requirements for that degree, he would attend my graduation.</p><p></p><p>And I never thought about it too much, but the conversation between the two of them had to have been my mother hating, and my father taking a stand.</p><p></p><p>I did graduate. Cum laude. There were many honors.</p><p></p><p>They attended the graduation and one of the Honors ceremonies.</p><p></p><p>My mother seemed to enjoy it.</p><p></p><p>I was so happy to share that with them both.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I think I am on to something here. The things my mother did and said, the expressions on her face while she did them, these were very ugly. We have spent our lives protecting ourselves from what we know.</p><p></p><p>And protecting them from what we know.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 671755, member: 17461"] So...that shine on her is what was taken from me. That is why she shines the way she does, in my memories of her. There is nothing beautiful or even, especially bright about intentionally destroying your own child, or about seeing to it that your own children will see one another through thinning films of jealousy and hatred and scarcity. The question is less why did she hate me than why did I stay. I stayed because I believed her; believed she was correct in her assessments. That is where the battle was lost. I could not leave because I could not see my way out or believe it when I did see it. She was my mother. I believed her. Why would she tell me things that were not true. But she lied. Probably, the exact places where the wounds are most intense are the places, the strengths, she could not eradicate ~ not in this oldest child. So I will go ahead and reclaim them, then. *** I have learned from this post that each place in my memory where my mother shines is a wound. [I]What will I be left with, when they are healed?[/I] [I]What, in all the hells that ever were, will I hold myself together with, then? It was not necessary for her to love me. I loved her, and I knew I did because of the way she shines, in my memory.[/I] I am not so sure I want to take that away. Though she may not have loved me, I was able to love her. That will be the cost of this phase of my healing. That is a very high cost. Cedar So, it is a few minutes later. I am thinking of Nietzsche: We love breathing because the love came first. That is who we are. The other is illusion. At the end of this, I will love my mother as a human, and not a magical, being. Or not. That is my energy she shines with, in my memory. How incredibly put together we are. How lovely, that she should shine like that; that is how it is for us, then: We are meant to heal. What beautiful signposts, once we knew what they were. Like I always do, I will leave the how I got here in for someone coming along behind. I think we may have been the ones who made them shine that way. It was probably that the reality was too ugly and too scary to accept. Another instance then, of learning to see through our own eyes and never to see ourselves through theirs. It could be that in every instance where our abusers shine in our memories, we were damaged; traumatized, we may have justified the trauma by elevating the abuser. In this way, we made sense of what was lost. Of what we lost, so they could dance in that peculiar light. Who says things like that to their own daughter. "Just don't think, Cedar." "I'm not reading this sh**t" "Welllll. I guess you weren't such a good mother after all, were you." And after our daughter was so troubled but before our son fell too, she said: "We would leave your house after having dinner and there you would all be, waving. And your father and I would say: "What a nice family." It just goes to show that you never know what goes on behind closed doors." And I believed that, too. How awful for all of us that I did. *** And when I was a mom at home, that sense that I was incompetent because I was not working, was not doing anything worthwhile. And when I went back to work.... Here is a story: So, I had decided to go back to work. The kids were probably eleven and twelve. I had applied for work, and was telling my mother I had done so. She said: "I would never hire you." So, here is the mystical and kind of awful thing that happened. I believed her, of course I did. Nonetheless, like I always do, I admired myself for having tried, even if no one would hire me and I had seemed foolish to everyone for trying, for having applied at all, sort of wasting everyone's time. Understand too that a piece of this for my mother was that it was a good thing I was married, or I would not even be able to make a living. So...I was offered the position. And on the day they called to tell me I had it, I was so sure I did not have it, that no one would hire me, that the woman from Human Resources had to say: "Do you still want the position?" I kept hearing her building up to telling me she was sorry but of course, they could never hire someone like me. What she was really saying was more and more stuff about benefits and whatever hours I wanted and so on. And I was so surprised that someone had hired me. And when I told my mother that I had been hired, she said: "You belong at home, taking care of your husband." There was other stuff there about D H capacity to make money, and about D H having said he would rather I not work. My mother implied I was putting that arrangement in danger and where would I be when D H left me with nothing but a job where someone like me could be hired. A part time job, at that. I took the position. Part time, full benefits. I was told that if I chose to go full time, supervisory position was very probable. The company reimbursed for education. That is how I began going back to school. My mother taunted me about school, about why I would even think to do something like that. It was my father, as I began my Junior year, who said that if I did complete the requirements for that degree, he would attend my graduation. And I never thought about it too much, but the conversation between the two of them had to have been my mother hating, and my father taking a stand. I did graduate. Cum laude. There were many honors. They attended the graduation and one of the Honors ceremonies. My mother seemed to enjoy it. I was so happy to share that with them both. *** I think I am on to something here. The things my mother did and said, the expressions on her face while she did them, these were very ugly. We have spent our lives protecting ourselves from what we know. And protecting them from what we know. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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