How do you recover from child abuse?

[blind_otter]

I'm making an appointment to see a PTSD "family therapist" this week. Hopefully she will see me sooner than later. I can't live like this, that's for sure.

 

What gets me sometimes is that I have lived with this intolerable ickiness for so long I've tried so many things to change ME. Like it was never a question, you know? Oh, something's wrong, must be me. IRL, I have friends who constantly encounter difficulties and always assume it is something outside themselves. I marvel at this. To always assume that it's NOT you?? To be sure that it's got to be something out there that is causing the trouble? What a relief that would be.

[Becoming]

The big Steelers win took the edge off a bad, bad weekend. This place went nuts last night. People swarmed the streets in general merriment (a little drunken craziness got out of hand, but not as bad as expected). It had snowed during the game, so people flooded out of bars only to slide on the ice in the roads, some half-nekkid they were so wasted. Three areas of the city had to be completely shut down. Folks were yelling up and down the street, including my children and friends; car horns honked until well into the a.m. Fireworks started all the dogs howling.

 

It's pretty quiet here today, what with everyone trying to recover from hangovers, I think. And resting up for big victory parade tomorrow. School was even delayed for 2 hrs.

 

Now is it better than shoes and massages? HMMM. Tough one. For awhile at least!

 

Glad to hear you're going to see a PTSD therapist, BOt. It's good to have some real support from someone outside ourselves who can help us sort what is ours, what is external.

 

Sometimes I just get so tired from all this emotion that comes out, riding me like a racehorse toward some unknown horizonal finish line. I think I need to take a break for awhile and be put out to pasture . . . .

[enki]

I think I need to take a break for awhile and be put out to pasture . . . .

 

...so you can generate such steamy conversations around the water cooler that it becomes an expresso machine?!

 

You are absolutely right, Becoming. It is a hilarious thread, but after all the persecution Sigmund Freud suffered for saying that hysteria had nothing to do with wandering uteruses (or is that uteri?) the poor old guy probably turns in his grave each time a new post appears.

[Mz. Pixie]

I'm still here guys, just reading and learning alot.

 

Good posts!

[blind_otter]

I get exhausted, too. Tired. I say that a lot. I do get tired. I feel like I have fought for my own survival my whole life. Even when I was a child, no one protected me but ME. My father, as much as I love him, failed me because he would look away while I was being beaten by my mother. The worst, clearest memories I have are struggling to get away from my mother when I was very young, 4 or 5, and her grabbing at my legs and ankles to drag me back into the kitchen. I got just far enough away from her to reach for my Dad, who was sitting at his desk. I was screaming for him to help me, don't let her hurt me, and he looked right into my eyes and turned away from me, so I could scream at his back.

 

I don't think I ever asked for him to protect me again after that.

 

I don't want to go to therapy. I hate therapy. It hurts. Like setting a broken bone. I guess it has to hurt to heal right. Otherwise it's ok to limp along but whenever the weather changes, it hurts like hell all over again....

[Mz. Pixie]

Yeah, today I want to curl up in a ball and sleep the day away.

[blind_otter]

I called to make an appointment with the EMDR lady and she didn't see patients in the evening and I felt like crying when she said that. Stupid. I called my exBF and he gave me a pep talk and told me to keep trying. I finally found a woman who would see me at 6pm. I feel much better. I've been wanting to do EMDR for a long time now, but I'm really motivated. And she had a sliding scale, so I'll only have to pay her like $90 an hour!

[Becoming]

Yeah, BOt! I applaud your perseverence. It's all too easy to get overwhelmed upon thinking of the possibility of rejection and just quit. But you didn't. Yeah, you! Your description of your mother, being dragged by ankles, father's ignoring--all too familiar. Sorry. I'm sorry not only for you, but that your parents missed out on seeing and relating to an amazing human being.

 

I was wondering about you, MzP. Good to hear from you, even if it's to say you're fetal. Struggle to be born. Struggle to be born.

 

Well, the good news today is that my therapist has determined I've turned a new corner. Personally, I think she's full of it, but what do I know? Isn't that why I'm paying her the big bucks?

 

What did I learn? I want other people to be my mother for me, to name what my feelings are, to give me some care. And they can't really do that. Especially if I'm not giving them any clues, partly because I myself don't know. They can give me what they can, but I have to not expect they'll be my mother for me. Seems that's my job. Like I don't have enough kids or adult responsibilities already.

 

I'm feeling pretty raw, but did little yesterday beyond maintenance and TV vegging. It helped just calm the jangle down.

 

So am I left where I began? With a confused child crying, me still not really knowing what to do, holding my begging cup out to any passerby? Not exactly. I'm learning what to do, what I need, and how to speak up for it without obliterating anger. To withdraw from what's hurtful to the degree necessary to protect and heal myself. But this is so difficult some days, and I'm not even engaged that much at work right now, which is an all-too-familiar dysfunctional system.

 

So MzP, where are you and how?

[Mz. Pixie]

What did I learn? I want other people to be my mother for me, to name what my feelings are, to give me some care. And they can't really do that. Especially if I'm not giving them any clues, partly because I myself don't know. They can give me what they can, but I have to not expect they'll be my mother for me. Seems that's my job. Like I don't have enough kids or adult responsibilities already.

 

I'm feeling pretty raw, but did little yesterday beyond maintenance and TV vegging. It helped just calm the jangle down.

 

So am I left where I began? With a confused child crying, me still not really knowing what to do, holding my begging cup out to any passerby? Not exactly. I'm learning what to do, what I need, and how to speak up for it without obliterating anger. To withdraw from what's hurtful to the degree necessary to protect and heal myself. But this is so difficult some days, and I'm not even engaged that much at work right now, which is an all-too-familiar dysfunctional system.

 

So MzP, where are you and how?

 

Oh boy, your comments rang true above to me. I guess I depend on my H to be my mother and he's not capable of doing that. I feel like I'm holding my cup out to everyone just like you said. The only difference is that I liken it to I'm grabbing onto everything to keep from drowning and it seems everything is slipping out of my grasp.

 

I'm still struggling with the issues with my kids and the schools and the exhusband. Today he threatened me with airing all of our dirty laundry in court should I take him to court to get him to compromise on what should be automatic anyway. It's stupid because he should know that anything to do with me committing adultery can't be brought up in this anyway, unless I neglected my children to do so and I didn't so he doesn't have a leg to stand on there. But threaten me he did in e mail form. I wanted to ask him if he had any idea how much jail time you could get for blackmail but I didn't. If the kids get the scholarship my attorney thinks it's worse pursuing but if not then I shouldn't because he may take me to court for full custody. It's frustrating. He won't do what's in the best interest of the kids and it's like if I push I could lose custody. WTF??? How fair is that???

 

When my nerves are frayed I just want to withdraw. My back's been out over the weekend and we had company for Superbowl which I didn't want and was angry about. H said I didn't express my anger enough for him to know that he really needed to call off the party. I just do not feel like being social. I don't want to go to work. I find myself taking off every chance I get. I took off yesterday to nurse the back and then today I was just so exhausted I couldn't go on being there. My job is a bit more boring since I've changed areas and down time for me is NOT a good thing-gives me too much time to think.

 

I took a pain pill last night (for the back) and it made me feel so good that I want to go in there right now and take one and sleep the night away. I'm resisting the urge right now...

 

Sunday night my H turned on TV and Joel Osteen was on there. If you're not familiar with him then check out his website. I think the guy is likeable but I somewhat struggle with whether or not I think he's actually preaching the word of God or just something to make people feel good. My mind starts wandering to whether or not he could be the Antichrist. I know that sounds crazy but look at all the crowds that he commands and it's unlike Billy Graham for some reason. Anyway, H loves Joel Osteen and he's on Sunday night saying that you just need to think positive- that you need to speak positive words everyday and you'll begin to draw positive things to you. Now, I get that on premise that's a good idea but he actually quoted studies to where people were told to speak positive and how it helped more than medication or something along those lines- perhaps I'm not being word for word but you get the picture. Well, H is convinced it was MEANT for him to turn on the TV that night for me to hear the message.

 

What I heard was that he's up there using his platform saying that and it may cause some people not to seek treatment because afterall, the great Joel Osteen said that positive thinking could get you past depression and it pissed me off! WTF was he thinking?? Here is a guy who preaches all over the world- and gets paid for it and has not struggled one bit and he's telling depressed people that thinking positive will help them more than medication?? Tom Cruise anyone??

 

I wish H would just say, "I get that you're struggling today, baby, what can I do to make you feel better?" Or "I understand you're having a bad day baby- but it will pass. How about you do something to make yourself feel good" or something along those lines. Instead I get a whole sermon about how he knows I don't want to hear that I was meant to hear that message and how I need to think positive and count my blessings, even if I have to one hundred times a day and I will begin to feel better and to deal with things better. About how I need to not sink down into depression and how that won't help the kids. Doesn't he think I freaking know this??

 

So, then he has to go to his other job and I'm left feeling like I cannot trust him with my feelings- because he only wants to change them and the fact that I feel like I'm totally alone.

[Becoming]

I'm left feeling like I cannot trust him with my feelings- because he only wants to change them and the fact that I feel like I'm totally alone.

 

Yup. That's it. Can you tell him what it is you'd really like, as you said here? Men don't naturally think like this. And you'll have to tell him over and over. He really thinks he's trying to help you, but you'll have to let him see what really helps you and what hurts.

 

My H read some of this thread. He had to quit after awhile because the emotional pain got to him. He's starting to get it. I guess it's just really hard for someone who hasn't had this experience to really understand we can't just snap out of it.

 

And you're right: Joel Osteen is full of it. Google him sometime and you'll see the guy is raking in millions, and what he preaches is self-help with a little God dressing. Never trust a happy-clappy Christian; they're too clueless to get it. There are real crucifixions in this world that can't be minimized on the way to resurrection good news. The living Christ always comes bearing scars. Osteen's telling people what they want to hear. Some of it's OK. But a lot is not. Of course the presentation's slick, etc. Billy Graham made little money from his crusades. Osteen's a millionaire.

 

Do you have a protector part of your personality, MzP? When I go fetal, that power is the one who stirs me up out of the pit, gets me moving again. I think depression sets in when that part just gets tired.

 

I wish I could be there to tell you I'm sorry you're having a bad time of it, offer you a shoulder to just cry on for awhile, and a box of soft tissues. I'd draw you a hot bath with bubbles and happy music and a nice cold drink or a cup of tea with those lovely shortbread cookies. Then I'd go to the video store, rent a movie you're in the mood to see, get you a comforter to snuggle under while you watched it, and sit there and laugh and cry with you. I'd like to tell you I'd even clean your house and set out some fresh flowers.

 

That's in an ideal world, though, and even if you lived next door, most times I couldn't because I have to work, get tired too, etc. So what I wish for you is the ability to accept others' good intentions without intense disappointment that there's not more. This would be the real gift. But I think it has to be the one we earn after a long journey.

 

BOt: prayers for a good procedure tomorrow and healing for all the wounds.

[Becoming]

I found a good poem for you MzP with re: to your desire for empathy:

 

http://www.geocities.com/maci_poet/understand.html

 

It's not EBBrowning quality, enki, but it sure gets at what we've been talking about.

 

Read the rest of the site at your own mental health risk when you need to process some of the old stuff.

[Mz. Pixie]

Wow, that's good stuff Becoming, thanks!

 

I told him this morning that I'm angry at him. Angry that he thinks it can be explained away- or that I can just "change my thinking" and it will go away.

 

I have explained to him what I'd like him to do and I've explained to him that right now, it's all I can do to get out of bed everyday- much less change my mindset.

 

He doesn't understand how the least little thing can make me cry for hours or have to leave work or not go to work at all. He doesn't understand that I can't cope with the stress of everyday life.

 

I'm angry that he can't make it all better.

[Becoming]

Yeah, I know. I just told mine the other day I wasn't talking to him until he read something on depression and adult survivors of child abuse. I sent him some links on depression and then he started reading this thread. He returned about an hour and a half later completely crestfallen and apologetic, saying he had no idea how hard life must be for us.

 

The thing that really pisses me is that he doesn't seem to listen to me. He'll believe it if an authority says (dr., psychologist, news article, web site) what I've spent years telling him, but he won't believe me, who is the authority on me and what I'm feeling. :mad: GRRRRRRR!

 

And the man wonders why I'm angry? ?????

 

The anger is the only thing that keeps me going some days. It just has to be a good anger, not the bad one.

[Mz. Pixie]

The thing that really pisses me is that he doesn't seem to listen to me. He'll believe it if an authority says (dr., psychologist, news article, web site) what I've spent years telling him, but he won't believe me, who is the authority on me and what I'm feeling. :mad: GRRRRRRR!

 

 

 

This is EXACTLY what I'm experiencing. It's like he doesn't believe me when I say I'm incapable of focusing on the positive right now. I keep telling him I know, I've been through this before.

 

He says I didn't work on it for long enough. I told him that obviously the doctors felt like I was fine when they released me. He seems to think it would take three years or more for me to be able to work through everything. I just keep saying "What if I can't? What if I'm never better than I am right now?" And he just keeps saying he doesn't believe that will happen.

 

He tells me that I live too much in the past instead of looking towards the future. I guess that is true.

 

I just know I feel so bad that sometimes I want to get in the car and just keep driving. I want to get in bed and never get out.

[Becoming]

Are you on meds now? I know there was some discussion. Sounds like you might need them to keep functioning.

[blind_otter]

The thing that really pisses me is that he doesn't seem to listen to me. He'll believe it if an authority says (dr., psychologist, news article, web site) what I've spent years telling him, but he won't believe me, who is the authority on me and what I'm feeling. :mad: GRRRRRRR!

 

Word, Becoming, Mz. P....I've gotten that, from my exH and exBF, but both of them would often try to sit with me and ask me what I needed. I would get even more frustrated because I don't know. Then they go to see a therapist or something, who tells them this that or the other and everything I've always said coming out of the mouth of someone else MAKES SENSE.

 

And I recognize the protector part of me. It's like a competant mother figure. I think the mom I would try to be if I had children, which may or may not ever happen. Stern and unapologetic. Short with words. But a motivating force....it only comes out for me when I am totally and utterly at the bottom of the pit and exhausted into my bones.

 

And I hate getting that "just think positive" crap. The worst feeling in the world is crying hysterically and repeating positive affirmations to yourself out loud while you are falling apart. I liken it to playing the fiddle while Rome burns. So I am a great person who deserves good things. I've ALWAYS been that great person who deserves good things, but knowing that doesn't make me feel any better about being totally victimized and beaten up and violated internally and externally.

 

I understand Mz. P....I understand how you get, I get that way too. My house is a mess right now and I'm home sick, with a pile of laundry RIGHT by the washing machine, and I just don't wanna do anything. I came home and laid on my bed staring at the ceiling fan for a while and decided to get up and at least satisfy my LS addiction.

[Mz. Pixie]

Are you on meds now? I know there was some discussion. Sounds like you might need them to keep functioning.

 

No, I am not on meds right now. I had been on them before and I called my doctor back when I had this crisis. They were going to call them back in for me and they didn't. Then I got in with a therapist and she couldn't prescribe- she was a talk therapist. Then I had to be referred to a psychiatrist. I'm awaiting my appointment right now. It's not until the 28th. I can't even comprehend waiting that long for help but every other avenue I have tried has been squashed. If I go to the ER or the hospital and tell them how low I am they are going to want to put me in the hospital. I have been there before and it didn't do squat for me. There isn't a place around here that specializes in PTSD or anxiety and then I get lumped in with the alcoholics and drug addicts and I end up solving all their problems for them.

 

I literally have to force myself to get out of bed every morning. Sitting at work is agony because I don't want to be here. I'm scared I'm going to get fired for missing so much work. I have all kinds of things to do but I don't feel like doing any of them. I'm paralyzed by in action. All I want to do is go home and get in bed and not talk to anyone.

[Becoming]

There isn't a place around here that specializes in PTSD or anxiety and then I get lumped in with the alcoholics and drug addicts and I end up solving all their problems for them.

 

I'm sorry, it's sick, but I too am :lmao: over this. I do the same thing. Easier to solve everyone else's problems . . .

 

I literally have to force myself to get out of bed every morning. Sitting at work is agony because I don't want to be here. I'm scared I'm going to get fired for missing so much work. I have all kinds of things to do but I don't feel like doing any of them. I'm paralyzed by in action. All I want to do is go home and get in bed and not talk to anyone.

 

Call the dr's office and tell them you need to see someone ASAP, so if there's a cancellation you need it.

 

I know the paralyzation. Fighting it because I'm completely overwhelmed by work and housework and all this crap to boot. Denial is a much lovelier place than this desert. We're waiting for our Mommies to come tell us what to do, and they ain't gonna come. And if they did, it probably wouldn't be pretty anyway. So we have to reparent ourselves, which, when I looked at this web site on this, I got so depressed I just went to bed. I can't function some days. So I, too, am calling for meds. At least then I'll be able to parent myself.

 

So get up MzP and just do one thing and one thing only. It was noon before I got up to eat, which is not a good idea. I feel better now.

[Mz. Pixie]

Call the dr's office and tell them you need to see someone ASAP, so if there's a cancellation you need it.

 

I/QUOTE]

 

Yeah, already did this, I'm on the list.

 

I would go to see just a regular GP like at a minor med, but I'm not sure that they would help me by prescribing something.

 

I'm sorry you're not feeling well today either Becoming.

[Becoming]

ah, I'll be ok. It's just that it's snowing and I don't want to bother getting dressed to go into the office, which I really need to do. I don't want to face anyone, ya know? So here I sit at 1:30 in a lovely satiny long nightgown with flannel lining, purple fuzzy socks, and my Steeler's hooded sweatshirt.

 

Need to pull myself up out of the pity pit now . . .

[Mz. Pixie]

Oh, no. Let's stay in the pity pot! I want to!

 

I'm very much a girly girl. I keep my appearance up usually at all times. Right now, my hair needs coloring and my nails need touching up and I'm not the least bit interested in anything that pleases me normally.

 

Guess that should tell me something.

[Becoming]

Yeah, it should.

 

BOt: I thought you were having your procedure today. I get kinda weirded out thinking good thoughts for your vagina if this isn't true!

[enki]

So here I sit at 1:30 in a lovely satiny long nightgown with flannel lining, purple fuzzy socks, and my Steeler's hooded sweatshirt.

What a splendid design for a New Avatar, Becoming! (Sorry! Oops! Joke. Joke. Joke. Your butterfly is fine.)

Also Otter, I hope your marsupialization went OK on Wednesday.

 

Apologies for disappearing for two days (working,) but, having read all the posts on this thread for those 48 hours, a pattern emerges.

 

Both of our parents were very violent bad-tempered people with serious shadow problems. As a result, they would never tolerate even the slightest expression of aggression from any of us, the kids. Even saying “damn” could lead to a serious bashing from either or both parents. I still hate to think what might have happened if we ever said anything more colourful!

 

Moreover, they expected instant, blind unquestioning obedience, and failure to comply led to a box over the ears at least, and often much worse.

 

This had two consequences. First, we all inhibited our anger to a ridiculous degree, and second, self-motivation disappeared with it, because as Becoming mentioned,

“The anger is the only thing that keeps me going some days.”

i.e. We need a modicum of aggression (assertiveness) to make us do anything by self-motivation. If all the motivation is applied from parents, so they get their way, we are left with nothing inside us to do what we want for our own needs. This culminated in my closest brother who got schizophrenia, a disease marked by serious complete inertia and lack of motivation. After a half-hearted knife attack on the parents, he was sent to hospital, from which he escaped and committed suicide by standing up in front of a speeding train.

 

That is an extreme example, and please believe that I am not suggesting that any of the people on this thread have any psychotic disorders. It was just to prove a point.

 

From the past two days’ posts it would appear that all of us have loads of aggression and rage with nowhere to direct it, so we turn it back on ourselves, resulting in depression, with its inevitable consequence, lack of self-motivation. Then we get angry at ourselves for being angry at ourselves and the downward spiral resumes.

 

To make the inertia worse, if overbearing parents were the usual source of our motivation, when we escaped them, our “get up and go, got up and went!”

 

But aggression is an instinct! Our parents can’t remove an instinct, no matter how hard and how often they bash us. All they can do is alienate us from it. If that’s true, we can reconnect with it, so long as we can identify it and treat it appropriately.

 

The pattern went like this.

1. It is not really maternal.

“… the protector part of me. It's like a competent mother figure. I think the mom I would try to be if I had children, which may or may not ever happen. Stern and unapologetic. Short with words. But a motivating force... it only comes out for me when I am totally and utterly at the bottom of the pit and exhausted into my bones.”

(Blind Otter.)

“…We're waiting for our Mommies to come tell us what to do, and they ain't gonna come.” (Becoming.)

 

2. It’s most certainly not external masculine.

“It's like he doesn't believe me when I say I'm incapable of focusing on the positive right now. I keep telling him I know …” and

“I'm angry that he can't make it all better.” (Ms. Pixie.)

“And the man wonders why I'm angry? ?????” (Becoming.)

 

3. It is a feeling, not subject to rational dissection.

“… Angry that he thinks it can be explained away- or that I can just "change my thinking" and it will go away.” (Ms. Pixie.)

“The thing that really pisses me is that he doesn't seem to listen to me. He'll believe it if an authority says….. what I've spent years telling him, but he won't believe me, who is the authority on me and what I'm feeling.” (Becoming.)

 

4. Women are often forced by social convention to disguise aggression as tears.

“He doesn't understand how the least little thing can make me cry for hours …” (Ms Pixie)

 

5. The power of aggression seems to come from outside us.

“Do you have a protector part of your personality, MzP? When I go fetal, that power is the one who stirs me up out of the pit, gets me moving again.” (Becoming.)

 

6. It is somehow associated with feminine beauty.

“I'm very much a girly girl. I keep my appearance up usually at all times. Right now, my hair needs coloring and my nails need touching up and I'm not the least bit interested in anything that pleases me normally.” (Ms Pixie.)

 

7. Aggression seems to come in masculine or feminine forms.

“It just has to be a good anger, not the bad one.” (Becoming.)

In its male form it makes a woman like Becoming’s big butch dykie Seraph. Yes, it protects, but it also alienates. But what if it comes in feminine form?

 

Bewdy! Another excuse to quote some poetry!

 

Masculine anger does a woman little good. This is how the poetess Enheduanna described its effects.

“He stood there in triumph and drove me out of the temple. He made me fly like a swallow from the window; I have exhausted my life-strength. He made me walk through the thorn bushes of the mountains. He stripped me of the rightful crown (1 ms. has instead: garment) of the en priestess. He gave me a knife and dagger, saying to me "These are appropriate ornaments for you".

I approached the light, but the light was scorching hot to me. I approached that shade, but I was covered with a storm. My honeyed mouth became venomous. My ability to soothe moods vanished.”What she then discovered was a feminine anger, epitomised by the Love and War (Sexuality and Aggression) Goddess, and when she paid due respects to that deity, her true self, her depression lifted and her beauty returned.

“The light was sweet for her, delight extended over her, she was full of fairest beauty.”

 

It’s quite a long poem, but worth a read because it is the first poem EVER to be signed by its author. Enheduanna was the daughter of King Sargon of Akkad, and was High Priestess of the Moon Temple at Ur in 2,300 BCE. So, 4,300 years ago she wrote about the very problem we are discussing this week, but she found the solution! Love your sexuality; love your aggression, and above all …Love Your Self!

[Mz. Pixie]

Oh wow, you may be too deep even for me E!!

[Becoming]

YEAH! WHAT ENKI SAID! AMEN AND AMEN!

 

My mythology’s different, and I will need to reread this post several times as more is revealed, but I sense truth there. I will respond later to each specific piece since I've spent too much time writing the following lengthy piece in my journal. {Warning: This would be the time to visit the snack bar!}

 

Here’s what’s happened with me in the past few days. I’m no longer rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. I’ve completely jumped ship and the shock of the cold water has just about killed me.

 

I was pretty much dead in the water yesterday with depression. Now that the walls of anger have pretty much crumbled, I’m just confused, paralyzed with confusion and fear that I’ll just be run over. There is no external force to fight now that life is at peace. My H has been an absolute dear; it’s what I’ve always wanted from him—sympathy, understanding, attention, some care—all of which he says is much easier now that I’m subdued and quiet and sweet. (We’ll see how long that lasts!)

 

I slept last night (a lovely gift). It was like the sleep of the dead. I am so exhausted. I awoke afraid to face the day. That’s it—I’ve been afraid to face most everything. Underneath the anger is just a scared child.

 

So before I climbed out of bed, I called a family meeting with all my inner characters. They truculently appeared from various places, vegged-out exhausted like they’d just returned from a 20-mile hike. This character I’ve called the Watcher, who I think is really me, the transcendent voice who seems to function to keep all the other characters together and who deals with all aspects of life—internal and external—this character said to all the assembled parts: “We’ve got to get this thing together here, girls, or we’re going to lose everything in the external world we’ve worked so hard to get. So what’s going on?”

 

Seems they’ve been going off doing their own thing even when it hurts the others. For example, if the girlie girl, who wants to look pretty, spends too much time on shopping and grooming, it takes away time from the ambitious one. If the ambitious one overworks, she takes herself away from the nurturer who wants to feed her well and likes communing with people at table, and she takes away time from the creative child who wants to play. If the creative child plays too much, she pisses off the ambitious critical part of me that says we really should put away childish things, which causes the creative child to tantrum, etc., until I’ve recreated the conflicted drama of my childhood internally. Without someone running the show to keep peace and achieve balance in me and my life, I keep beating myself up all the time.

 

Every time I’ve seen her, my Watcher has been standing on the dunes overlooking the ocean. She’s been watching and waiting for something. (The ocean is where I experienced a religious conversion years ago, so I think she’s been waiting for God to come in and save her.) On the other end of my lovely oceanic compound, facing the dark woods (of external reality I think), stands my kick-butt Protector making sure I’m safe. The other characters just generally run around and do their own thing, digging in the garden, cooking, perusing a fabulous library, turning cartwheels, and playing dress-up, painting, putting on plays, etc. Now they’re all tired, but gathered because the Watcher called them together, which is unusual.

 

My Watcher has been a very solitary, sad figure in a dark hooded cape, hair flying in the wind, watching the ocean. She’s like a sailor’s wife waiting for her husband to return from sea, except that she’s a widow and hasn’t accepted that.

 

Until now. There is no one coming. There is no ship laden with goods.

 

And I don’t need it to come. That’s the thing! It’s like I’ve been waiting for something to come save and rescue me, give me something I don’t have, when in fact, I do.

 

What I really need isn’t external. It’s not the love of a good man giving me what I didn’t get as a child, it’s not work or food or praise for pretty creativity and book smarts. It’s not even God anymore. God is not coming to save; God is already here, has already saved. Christ and the Holy Spirit already abide with and in me as they do everywhere with, in, and through everyone and all of creation. I may be sinner yet, but I am also goddess, priestess working in concert with that force for good IF I SO CHOOSE, for God made me to be me with freedom. It’s up to me to choose whether I want to sit and continue to veg out depressed the rest of my life or to act on my own behalf, not just others’.

 

So, back to my active imagination: My Watcher apologized for having checked out and abandoned the others. She received love and care and compassion from the others. And just now after writing all this, she practically flew down to the ocean and was baptized with the ocean in the ocean as part of the ocean. Three times. Once for cleansing, once for responsibility, once for freedom to frolic with the dolphins as part of all of creation sparkling in the sunlight.

 

I’m not so tired now. I AM. I am not separate from God. I am, yet like a baby is in utero. I am separate, yet not separate. I am also in God and a part of God thanks to the ascension of X who has sanctified all things, infusing them with Holy Spirit.

 

I am free to continue to beat myself up if I so choose, or I can choose to live life for myself, which is also at the same time for others (career, table communion, creativity and play). But the Watcher needs to watch me now so there is peace, harmony, balance, love, justice, shalom.

 

Will I be able to do this with others in real life? There’s the question.

 

But, yeah! I've worked through what was keeping me down. It's time to go to work now.

 

More to enki later. The images of your brother haunt. I'm so sorry for that horrible trauma for all concerned.