My dear friend started her own blog about spirituality and abuse. She’s off to a roaring start and I hope you’ll check out her thoughts at “My Perspectives of Spirituality in Abuse”.
She’s a thinker and a feeler and an excellent communicator and writer. Enjoy!
Will and I were unhappily married and I once mistakenly blamed him for every one of our missteps and evils. Although I thought I was trying to make him happy, I was really trying to make him happy so he could make me happy. When I failed, I wanted to run far and fast. I tried running away into motherhood. I tried running away into shame. I tried running deeply into loathing and hate and sickness.
I’ve run, but I haven’t left.
There must be a reason for it. There must be a reason greater than my experience to explain why I haven’t run from here.
Why must there be a reason? Why must I seek a reason why I’ve stayed?
I want to say I’ve stayed for love; but by my own admission, I don’t know what love means. So if I haven’t stayed for love, then why?
Maybe I’m tired of running. Or maybe when I ran into the arms of my husband, I did it for a reason other than escape. Is it possible that he offers something that I need to be me? Does and has he challenged me to finally find the All within myself? Is that why I’m with Will?
I know that being with him, in part, has caused me to find “Big Me”. Being with Will has forced me to look and listen inside myself, peeling back layer after layer. Most of the peeling hurt badly. Most of what I peeled back tore me apart, exposed old wounds. It fucking hurt.
I turned inward, away from him, away from what he said and how he treated me, seeking refuge in scarred and burned scabs that didn’t want to be ripped off, but in my frenzy to run, I ripped them away despite my fears.
Now that I’m getting a glimpse of the All, I want to pluck it out of me like an unskinned grape and present it to him. I want to show him what I’ve found so he may believe that the All is within him, too. My old habits tell me that I am supposed to use the All in me to save him. But that isn’t what All is telling me to do.
All tells me to stay quiet about what I’ve found. I’m not supposed to define it for Will because he, out of habit, will try to shame me into putting All away again.
You see, Will has bad habits, too. He cannot bear to think that All is in me because he thinks he should have All only to himself. If my sin is pride, then Will’s is probably selfishness. I don’t think “selfishness” is on the 7 Deadly list, but it’s enough of a sin to cause problems. I digress, “selfishness” is on the 7 Deadly Sins list; it is called “greed”.
I could be wrong about Will’s sin. I have no business in his mess right now anyway. This is about my mess. My pride.
In today’s psychology, there is a less deadly word for pride. It is codependence. Ask a hundred people what codependence means, and you’ll get 100 answers. Codependence is practically indefinable because it is a catch-all phrase for people who do things they shouldn’t at the expense of themselves and those they love but just happen to have an alcoholic or other dysfunctional person in their periphery. Codependence is acknowledged as a problem in itself; the codependent has her own set of problems, presumably exaggerated because of the “other” person involved.
My definition of codependence is the belief that I can fix everyone around me and that they, by doing certain things I decide, can fix me. Sounds like pride to me.
Pauline clued me in to two little demons running amuck within me, waiting for their day in the sun. I haven’t asked her why she did it, yet, and I will. But first, I want to take a stab at guessing.
As science is now showing, we find what we’re looking for. We thought an atom was as small as it got; then we discovered protons, neutrons and electrons living inside the atom, then smaller bits making up those bits. Light measures in waves and in particles, depending on what we are looking for it to be. No matter what we look for, we’re going to find something; the act of expecting to find something else always results in finding something else.
So, if I keep on looking for the bad shit floating around in myself, I am going to find it. Imagine for a second that I found every little demon wandering the halls of my mind. I named it and exorcised it. When I exorcised the last demon, when there was nothing bad to be found in me, what would I feel? Probably, you guessed it, Pride.
Pauline may be trying to tell me that it sometimes doesn’t matter what demons are running around in my head. Punishing myself by trying to exorcise tiny laughable demons is a waste of time. It’s not that I’m bad and there’s nothing that can be done about it, the key is that I’m bad and I’m good and there’s nothing to be done about it. I’m going to see-saw back and forth at times, and that is okay. The challenge is to keep looking for the good until I find pride, then back off and fix the bad until I find pride again.
This playground game can be played in seconds, in days, weeks, months and years. It is a constant, and it is to be an experience. Period. Not a good one, not a bad one, but always a grand one. It is the mystery, the life, the quest of a human. I will push the limits and get pushed back, continuously. This is what we’re here to do. Stretch and contract, stretch and contract, but above all, remain flexible.
I had become inflexible. The years I felt I wasted are simply years that I refused to stretch or contract. It took me longer than some and not as long as others to realize that I’ve got to keep moving. Standing still denies the All the opportunity to live through me. Being stubborn in my belief that I am any one thing (codependent, abusive, victimized) causes All to stop experiencing life through me. Life ends.
All is inside of me. All is constantly moving, growing and being new things.
Consider God, Christian format, for a moment. Old Testament God was full of fury and vengeance. He turned women to salt and burned cities, flooded the earth and murdered men who spoke contrary to Him. New Testament God was full of love and gentle guidance. He sent and sacrificed His son so the rest of us could take a lesson on what it meant to love outside of possession and desire. You could say the Christian Bible is a snapshot of God, or perhaps a three minute youtube video of God expanding and contracting. He definitely isn’t staying still.
God also fractured himself in the Bible. He created angels to worship Him, and humans to look like Him. And then He allowed a piece of his creation to go rogue. Lucifer (turned Satan) is the best of God who found Pride in Himself and exorcised that piece of Himself to the Earth. Why didn’t He send Lucifer and his buddies straight to the promised Hell? Because God knew that killing Lucifer wouldn’t solve the problem.
You see, God is ALL. He is darkness and light. He lives. He experiences. And He put Himself in each one of us so he can experience what we create as well as what He has created. God knows that to stand still means that He will die. Yet He gives an entire portion of Himself to each of us, as a loan, so when we return to Him, our bodies decaying in the earth, we can watch our selves reunite with All, and we will know, beyond the shadow of an earthly doubt, that what we experienced was worthwhile.
Tomatobaby’s post reminded me of a site I’d found a couple of weeks ago called Six Word Memoirs. The idea is to define yourself in six words. Tomatobaby was a step ahead because her tag line is “To smile To create To thrive.”
My latest memoir reads “I love who I am becoming.”
My other one reads “Thought love meant pain. Was wrong.”
When Marc returns to a normal school day schedule, my memoir may be “Got Kids on Bus Now Write!”
But I think my only “true” memoir is the one I came up with today. I have always loved “becoming.” When I was a little girl, I loved becoming a tree climber. When I was a teenager I loved becoming an artist. When I was in my twenties, I loved becoming a mother. Around 30, I loved becoming a woman.
Now, at 38, I don’t know for sure what I am becoming, but I know I am enjoying the process. I am enjoying becoming with all its hazards, failures, unexpected joys and successes. I love that I may not see what I’ve become for another 5 years when I’m already working on becoming something else.
All in all, I love my life with all of the successes and failures, blind spots and divine interventions. I really love the successes and divine interventions, but the failures and blind spots are learning experiences and without them, I wouldn’t have become who I am right now, at this moment.
“I am right now this moment.” There’s another six-worder.
What is your six word memoir?
20 minutes until I have to leave the house. I could waste it playing Solitaire, or I could spend it writing.
Writing every chance I get is proving to be an easy new habit. The other night, Marc’s school put on a presentation and I wrote down observations and snippets of prose (not good prose, but prose!) while listening to the lectures of area business people. I carry (have always carried) a notebook in my purse, and now I use it to jot down words other than reminders and family business. Easy.
This morning, with 20 minutes before I must leave the house to attend a “Career Make Over” class, I could have done any number of things which need doing. Fold the basket of laundry. Wipe the kitten footprints from the floor. Clear off the end tables. All things I would have done in the past to avoid problems later in the day. But I chose to write. And I feel good about it.
No, I don’t know who is going to do the household stuff or when it will be done, but it will get done. There’s no one here to tell me I’m not a good person because it isn’t done. No one to tell me what my “job” entails or complain if I let them down because there are crumbs on the table.
I’m free to write.
Much like Will has been free to soldier. He is required to go to work every day, and look how far it’s taken him! He’s one rank from the top, and he got there because he “soldiered” day in and day out, religiously. He didn’t have anyone telling him to stop soldiering and clean the car. He didn’t have anyone breathing down his neck to fix the leaky faucets or clean up the dirt he tracked into the house.
I left him to mind his own time and be a soldier. Any other demands of his time he chose to attend to when there was an opening in his schedule – not before and not after. He decided when to do something other than soldier.
I’m going to learn from him when it comes to writing. I am going to write even when I don’t want to write. I’m going to “go to work” even if I’m sitting here at home and not worry about other menial chores that will be there later. When I can, I’ll tend to the laundry, the car, the faucets, the dishes… Until there’s an opening in my schedule, I’m not going to worry about the things that can wait.
I’m excited!
I’ve had a long day. I haven’t experienced and emotional upheavals, and the doubts and fears seem to be at bay. I’m feeling really good.
But I noticed something weird. There is a lot of time to fill when there is no anxiety. Or at least, no anxiety dependent on another person’s actions.
Here’s a list of some of the things I did not feel anxious about today:
You tell me…Am I happy he is gone?
A couple of days ago, Marc and Eddie were sitting on the couch with their computers. They called me in and began a “conversation” between Stewie (Family Guy) and Ashton Kutcher sound boards.
I’ve got to tell you, the “conversation” between those two people turned out to be the funniest damn thing I’ve heard in forever. Marc played Ashton and Eddie played Stewie, and although I’d never ever in a million years considered what their conversation may be like, I got a pretty good idea via the creativity of my boys.
Part of the conversation went something like Stewie telling Ashton not to mock him, at which point Ashton teased Stewie about his job at the drive-thru window. Stewie got madder and Ashton kept ordering food.
It is painfully obvious that I need to work on my humorous story-telling, but this story may not be funny to anyone outside of my living room two nights ago anyway. But really…Ashton Kutcher and Stewie? They’re funnier together than you might think.
Check out a website (such as this one) that have soundboards with clips of things famous characters and people have said. Another possibility for these soundboards are prank calls…but I wouldn’t know anything about that childish nonsense. 
I am grateful, very grateful, for all of you. Some of you have called more than once today to find that my line is busy. You’ve left voice mails and emails, and randomlyk, thank you for what you did, too.
I am also very tired, and it is very late. But for anyone who I didn’t call back today, please know that I will check in tomorrow – or so I plan. It so happens that most of the calls I received and didn’t answer at the time came at a time when I was talking to another friend. I am feeling blessed.
There was a time when no one would be calling me at a time like this because no one would have known. I am so glad that I spoke up.
For anyone out there who is in an abusive situation, it is time for you to reach out too. It is time to begin remembering that people love you, really love you. And if you can’t think of any, then it is time to find a domestic violence group, book club, a gym, an online board if you must, somewhere where you can be YOU and start to remember that you are important, that you matter.
Trust me, the people you need will be drawn to you, and you will build your support system.
You know in your heart of hearts that “one day” you may be in my shoes – anxious, hyper-aware, unable to sleep properly or even remember to eat – because your abuser finally did the thing that you cannot accept one more time. And those people that you know or haven’t met yet will do what those who love me have done for the past four days.
They will call you, message you, text you, email you and poke you. Some will want to stop by and you will have to say, “I’m too tired and the kids are here” and they will understand. They will help you. They will invite you into their homes, unconditionally, whenever you feel the least bit insecure, scared, or anxious.
They will tell you how proud they are of you, how strong you are, how brave…and you may not believe those things to be true when you hear them, but after hearing them enough, you will come to believe that you are worthwhile, that you are brave, and that you did the right thing even though it was the hardest thing you’ve ever done.
They will remind you that time is your friend, keep you sane when you think that you should have done 101 things today when you only did 3. Even though the world has ended, the days are of the same length and the superhero strength it took to do the thing you did does not slow time, does not give you more time to complete the steps needed to get you from hell to peace.
They will also feel a little helpless because they WANT so badly to do SOMETHING…and you will keep them in your thoughts because sometime soon, you may need something that only that person can give, and they will give it to you. Like my old friend told me, you will have to let people help you, and that is one of the most difficult things to do.
To all of you who have extended your hand to me, no matter how you did it, I am feeling your support and your love. I have the sense that even some who haven’t contacted me directly are sending me prayers and warm thoughts. There is not a word that describes how grateful I am to all of you.
This is far from over, but I know I am far from alone, and that, my friends, is the greatest gift I’ve EVER accepted. Thank you.
To retrain my thinking, I’m going to start with ideas I already identify as problematic. But how do you attack an idea effectively?
Um, who is this causing an uproar? Erin says:
“(I am in the back of the class, extending my arm as far upward as it can go, waving it like a maniac!!!) Pick me! Pick me! Let me help you with this! (Faint whimper and whine coming from my throat…)”
Well, who could deny that plea? Erin, subconscious mind expert who has ALWAYS been on my side, wants to help. I know that she needs a starting point so she can begin tailoring a program for me. I am assuming that it doesn’t really matter where we start because over time and experience, we’ll work together to pinpoint other trouble spots.
I want to work on forcefully removing the thoughts that cause me to shrink back into myself. I want to stop using my loved ones’ behaviors as excuses to clam up, shut down, and stop pursuing my awesome ideas! I want to value and pursue my interests/goals even if someone I love has a million reasons why it won’t work.
Likewise, I want to stop shutting off my loved one’s advice when they are pointing out things that may not work as I have planned. I’ve literally trained myself to shut down as soon as someone says anything other than “That’s a perfect idea! How can I help?” In my experience, that phrase NEVER reaches my ears. I’ve literally NEVER heard someone say that to me, so why do I constantly expect to hear it? I set myself up for failure by expecting it, because as soon as I DON’T hear it, I quit.
I’ve quit a lot of great stuff. For example, Bluelady Muse, a website that had promise but didn’t go anywhere (in part) because my husband said it wouldn’t. (When I closed it, I added it to my current site because there’s a lot of information there that I want to incorporate, possibly, into the healing process. You can’t get to it from a link on my current site, it’s “hidden” except in this paragraph, and I haven’t tested it so not all of the links may work.)
I’m tired of quitting. I’m tired of using assumed meanings to what other people say as an excuse to quit. I want to value my own ideas above what other people think of them, and I think the imagery of Thor’s Hammer can help me knock out that unwanted, detrimental, no longer subconscious habit.
So, Erin, is this a starting point you can work with?
I’ve been rather silent the past few days because of two things. One, another conversation with my husband in which I “lost it”. Two, my older son completely blew my mind with something he did. Not a good thing.
Usually I would have immediately vomited these things onto this blog for all the world to see. Usually, the release would do me good. But I’m not certain I want to go there just yet.
Last week, there was some conversation on boundaries. I took some time reviewing my boundaries, tweaking them, loving them, and then I realized something.
Boundaries work both ways. Not “both ways” as in ‘omg, he can have boundaries too!’ because I already knew that. No, boundaries work to keep others out, but they can also work to keep myself in.
What I’m talking about is PRIVACY. I’ve understood privacy as it relates to bathroom activities and sexual goings-on, but now the definition of privacy is expanding right before my unbelieving eyes.
Privacy also means that I have the right to keep things to myself. Wow.
Keep in mind, please, that my entire history with “myself” revolved around the idea that what other people thought of me WAS, IN FACT, who “I” was. This thought clarified itself to me this morning as I wrote my nanowrimo novel. I’ll simply copy/paste that part here:
Darkness reinforced the idea that “who I am” equals “who they think I am.” I was on a mission to control who they thought I was. Every angry word caused me to tweak their perception of me by making it right. No matter if they were angry for no good reason, their anger was judgment, and I needed them to judge me in a good light. I appeased people in ways that ensured they liked me. Wasn’t that important? Wasn’t that the goal?
It is more than needing someone to like me. My very existence depends on everyone else’s acceptance of me, and the more people who like me, who are willing to go to bat for me, who think I am perfect, then the happier I can be. Isn’t that how it works? Aren’t I supposed to do some distasteful things in order to feel good about me?
The missing person in all of my days has been the mysterious “me”. It’s like I was taught the word, but it never had meaning. I know when to use the word “I” but I don’t know who “I” is supposed to be. The “I” is not within, it is outside. The “I” in me is determined by what you say, by how you react, by what you think of what you call “me”. You get to decide who I am.
But no, “you” do not get to decide who I am. Now that I have set some boundaries, the proof for myself that “I” am separate from “you” is undeniable.
My privacy (new, expanded definition) is a new concept to me. In the cases of the phone conversation with my husband and the actions of my son, I’m kind of conflicted.
I’m working through email with Will to express and correct the mistakes I made and giving him the chance to express and correct his own. Doing this “in private” is vital. I must keep it close to my chest in order to see how we handle this together, without giving him the ability to watch it unfold on my blog. The results may not be private. I’m hoping to share some positive happenings with you in the future, but at the least, you’ll find out the truth along with me.
There’s not too much to be done about my son at this point. I am thoroughly disgusted with his action especially since there has been so much “GOOD” lately. The bright spot is that I’m not discounting his actions as another sign that I am responsible for his behavior. He owns what he did. He is my child, and I will stand beside him as he faces the consequences. Key to that statement is me standing beside him – I am not taking his place, I’m not taking the blame or the responsiblity.
So my son’s part of my story is private because it belongs to him. I don’t feel that I have the right to tell his story, so I won’t.
I must say that donnalee’s recognition of her own boundaries couldn’t have come at a better time for me. In sharing the limited experience I have with her, I was enabled to see another dimension previously hidden to me. (Thank you, DonnaLee!)
Privacy. Boundaries work both ways. I feel empowered knowing that I control what gets into me as well as what goes out of me.
A new friend suggested I take a look at my horoscope, and this is what it said:
“Capricorn, Friday, 6 November 2009
“You are not in your current situation by accident. Or by mistake. Or even by way of a punishment. You are where you are because it is the right place for you to be, if only in order for you to realise fully where you want to be instead, and how you can get there.
“You certainly don’t have to stay where you are now forever, but nor need you ever look back and wish that you had never been there at all. Don’t place too much emphasis, this weekend, on ‘what ifs’. Or ‘if onlys’. The question to ask is, ‘what next’? …”
Interesting, no? Especially since this morning I woke up obsessing about “what ifs”. Fortunately, I moved beyond the what-ifs and the panic, but now I want to answer the question, as best I can, of “What’s Next?”
And I think those things will keep me plenty busy for at least the next month!
PS: The horoscope I read is here.
