The Hardest Hurt

I have been thinking this morning… After I emailed my ex and talked to him, I realized what one of the hardest hurts in life is. For me personally, it is someone who says they love me but all their actions point to no. And the fact that I have a gut feeling something is up or I don’t feel their love.

Anytime I try to confront them on the subject whether it is my first love/ex or my mother- I have never felt their love. I wouldn’t say I am sad because THEY don’t love me truly. I am sad and hurt because they always say they do, manipulate me into thinking they do but when I need them they are no where to be seen.

Now my ex is a thing of the past, I am just now able to deal with the reality of his lies. Our relationship is tied in with my sexual abuse since he helped me through it. My mother, of course, will always be apart of my life whether I like it or not.

But why would someone ever say they love me but not really mean it? That is such a deep rejection I cannot almost not even process it in my mind. Plus with me already having PTSD is not a good mix.

I get so sad thinking about how someone who is supposed to love me unconditionally, who helped create me doesn’t love or want me around. It makes me think something is totally wrong with me and then I go into people pleasing mode. I also try and conform to the crowd because I am not confident enough to be myself. Why be myself when I am always rejected by my own mother?

 

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“I Will Pray for You”- Why that Triggers my Anxiety

I met with my Pastor yesterday and he gave me some insight and some hard challenges. I will talk more about it when I am up for it but right now I will just keep it brief. One of the things that has always caused anxiety for me is my Trigger words that take me back to my Spiritual force fed abuse from my mother (that I still get).

My pastor gave me the challenge to think of a new happy memory and attach it to those words, give the word either a new meaning or say something different completely. He explained to me that every word we know, that I know, is neutral. We attach, I attach, specific meanings and memories to it.

For example, some words I cannot stand to hear. It urks me, it makes my blood boil and hatred to rise up in me. One of those words is PRAY. I hate that word. When I think of PRAY I think of the hypocrisy people use (my mother included) to “pray for you”. Some of the meanest people say that, “Well bless your heart, I will pray for you.” When you have done nothing wrong. I feel that there is a double meaning attached to that word and it isn’t meant to be sincere.

Instead of saying pray, prayer, praying.. I will refer it to as “talking to God” or “talk to Him”. That is essentially what I am doing anyways. I am just taking out the trigger word. Even just typing the word or thinking of the memories attached to the word “pray” makes me want to punch someone.

That is all the brain power I have today. I am hoping to make a list of words that trigger me in the next couple posts… but the issue with that is I don’t like being triggered. lol

The Email to the Ex

“Another reason why I left you (besides you breaking my heart and embarrassing me) is because I suspected you cheated on me after we just started dating. And I didn’t believe your reasoning for leaving me, “being scared”. It sounds like a line to me and to this day it still pisses me off to be frank. I had a gut feeling that you never actually loved me. If you did why did you let me go? Why didn’t you regret it and come fight for me? Fight for us? I was so extremely hurt and heart broken. I was completely in love with you and to not feel loved back and cheated on- I don’t wish that on anyone.

I still to this day don’t believe what you say. I just put up with it because it is comforting to believe instead of looking at the hard truth. You didn’t want me. I was easy to let go of. I was fully rejected. My love wasn’t enough. How you treated me when I was there later, you didn’t talk to me, look at me and you straight out avoided me. I can still feel the pain to this day and I am done with it. I have tried to keep our conversations to a minimum but I can’t let this slide. You asked me and I finally have the guts to tell you the truth.

You asked me if I would of stayed with you if we would of stayed together… Honestly- probably not considering how you treated me. I told you yes because I would of liked to believe that was true. I would of liked to believe that we could of worked through those issues. But in order to do that you would of had to fight to show me that you did truly love me and that I could trust you. And you never did.

I don’t really expect you to care, I mean after all you are getting married next year and I am married to someone else now… but I am the type of person that can’t leave stuff unsaid no matter if someone wants to see it or not. I have a respect for you because you were there for me in very hard times and you comforted me after my sexual assault. I also feel really bad for how I did treat you and purposely hurt you. I was just trying to make you feel the pain I felt from you and that was wrong. I apologized for that.

All I wanted was your heart because I had given you mine completely. I know we had something at one point- it was real but then YOU changed.

This is me taking back my heart and standing up for myself.”

I sent this because he asked me why and I half answered the question. I want to be honest with him and myself. I want to break away from the fantasy and really look down deep. He isn’t a regret or someone I should of been with for the rest of my life- he is the exact opposite from what I deserve. Thank goodness I have a husband that doesn’t do any of this to me. Cowboy and I tried at least 3 times to make it work and it never did. I was never truthful with myself about why we didn’t work. I buried it deep down and inside. I just uncovered it and I want to never forget the real reason.

I don’t care if he responds or not. I don’t care if he cares or not. I am just over it. I should of said these things a long time ago. My guilt is gone, my “what if” is gone and the fantasy is gone- ABOUT TIME!

How It Starts

Contacting Cowboy has really put me through the ringer. We finished our conversation yesterday with some questions he wanted me to answer. One of them was “Why did you leave me?”. I forgot to tell him because he cheated the first time we tried dating, he never admitted it during that time. But the main reason was because of his lack of maturity and after he broke my heart I couldn’t  give it back to him.

After this conversation I thanked him for talking with me and that this was helping a lot. He then began to say it was hurting him because he tried to forget all of this. I felt extremely horrible. Of course! How wouldn’t it hurt him? I don’t know if he considers me “the one that got away” or not. I didn’t ask him. He did tell me that if things were different (I wasn’t married, he didn’t have a baby or fiancé) he’d want to try again.

I kinda expected that. Not to sound arrogant but what we had reminds me of the movie the Notebook sometimes. We weren’t all lovey dovey infatuated with each other, we had something special.

We first met at a rodeo. I was there with one of my girlfriends, walking along when all of a sudden a rope was wrapped around me for no reason. I turned around and there he was, on his horse, rope in hand and around me. He pulled me in close. Sounds amazingly romantic right? That is exactly how it happened, I was so intrigued by how forward he was. But as he pulled me in close he didn’t say a word. He just kept staring at me. His friend was talking to me but he didn’t say anything.

The whole couple minutes I was there, roped, Cowboy never said a word. It got awkward so I unroped myself and left. I didn’t see him at all the rest of the night even though I tried searching for him. I didn’t even get his name I don’t think. My best friend went and got his number somehow and I didn’t know it. I was in the car getting ready to go home. She gave me his number and I put it away.

A year later. YES A YEAR! I found that number when I was going through some stuff of mine. I thought, Hey what the heck- just give it a try. I didn’t know if he would of kept the same number or not. I got the courage and called. He answered. And he remembered me.

He was actually in a different state for awhile going to school or something. And we talked for a whole year. I can’t really remember the progress after that but we made such a strong emotional connection. I knew everything about him and he knew everything about me. We could speak milestones without saying a but just a few words. I turned to him and he turned to me.

 

I can still remember how it felt when he would look at me. I remember how it was to kiss him. I still remember our song. I remember how he hugged me so tightly. I remember how we slow danced to our song at my Winter Formal. I remember his goofy laugh. I remember his sweet voice calling me darlin’. I remember the comfort he gave me after I’d have a hard day or nightmares. I remember him. Now enough of the “easy stuff to remember about my ex”. This is what I also remember:

I remember what it felt like when he cheated on me (long story, I think alcohol was involved), what it felt like when he was immature and embarrassed me. I remember what it felt like him shutting me out. I remember what it was like when I laid in his bed next to him- ready to marry him if he asked and  he got up and walked out on us because he was too scared. I remember what it was like when he wouldn’t look at me. I remember how scared I was to fully trust him. I remember how he’d get up and leave the room if I walked in. I remember what it was like when Cowboy shattered my heart. I remember how he left me and never came back.

There is a reason we didn’t work out and it wasn’t all him. I was a huge part to blame.

So anyways- after our conversation it was so easy to remember the great things and slip back into old emotions. So watch out if you talk to your ex! I told him I couldn’t be friends with him because everything comes flooding back and it’s not fair for my husband or healthy for me. And that was that.

Now the hard part- telling my husband. I called my dad and asked him how he got over his first love. I looked up some more articles and surveys. I found out that a whole 88% of married people have pondered at least once what it would be like if they were single, or without kids, or with an ex, in the privacy of their own mind. So thank goodness I am not crazy! Cowboy is my what if.

I have also come to realized with my last entry that my heart has never healed. My husband is the closest one ever to it besides Cowboy. I am selfish in nature, I think about me and what will be good for me or what I want to do, or need. I even used to think of our money separately (my money and his money) and that I was entitled to mine and he wasn’t. Now don’t get me wrong I am not a horrible unloving wife- these are subconscious actions and thoughts. I come across as lazy. I love him, I just never had the desire to do things for him for the sake of doing it. I did things for me and my future.

The longest relationship I ever had before my husband was maybe 2 or 3 months. MAX. Even Cowboy and I didn’t make it a full month I don’t think of exclusive dating but we were on and off for 3, maybe more years.

That is what I told my husband. I told him how I feel like I am selfish, my heart isn’t fully healed and I am reserved. Tears started making my eyes foggy as I told him how much I had been hurt. And how I learned to guard my heart because of abusive mother. I told him I was sorry and that I hope this didn’t hurt him. I told him the conversation between Cowboy and I. I told him everything. And I ended with a list I made for him.

The list was titled, I Love You More Because… and I would list my reasons why I loved him more than Cowboy. I only got about 6 down on the page before he came home. But I am going to write myself a copy so that when I am tempted to paint Cowboy in a romantic, dreamy light- that I see how great of my husband is and how much better he is to me than Cowboy was. One of the reasons why I love my husband more than Cowboy, is because my husband fought for me. He didn’t just leave or give up, he fought hard for me and for us.

I am my husband’s first love. He only had one other girlfriend before me and didn’t really like her. I wish I could be the same and give him the same as I gave Cowboy. There is just something about your first. I can’t explain it. But there is also something about a man that loves every part of you, accepts you for who you are, the bad, ugly and the good and who won’t leave your side no matter what.

Is An Abusive Home Always Abusive?

I have been secretly asking myself this question. It dawned on me that just because my relationship with my “mother” is abusive, manipulative, emotionally distant, liar, actress, condescending, negative, self seeking can those tendencies still remain there in that house? As you know, if you read my blog, I have little sisters that live in that same house.

I can’t do anything about it. I am cut off from that family and have been for years. I just now have made it my choice to be cut off and no contact. My home life with my mother was horrible. It was so forceful, yelling, screaming, silent treatments, punishment through many different ways, I was a hit a few times out of her anger when I was littler. I saw my sisters get so hits during one “spanking” I had to look away.

But my sisters- I can’t tell you what they truly think. They aren’t allowed to contact anyone and if they do she is right there. They are also home-schooled. I know homeschooling in itself isn’t bad but I do feel it needs to be regulated or at least checked in on from time to time. That is my personal opinion.

After CPS was called on for me, or at least my school checked in, (on my home life after I told a counselor some of the things that went on in that house) she wanted to home school me. Staying home was complete torture to me. I walked on eggshells all day. I couldn’t be kid, I didn’t have friends and I couldn’t bother her at all. Thankfully my father (they are divorced) stepped in and said  “Hell no”.

When I was growing up as a child and a teen I knew my home life wasn’t normal because I had my dad’s house to go to. I saw other family and had an escape to go to. So what does that mean for my sisters who have both of their parents still together and conducting this home school, control type thing?

Personally I feel that home-schooling for some is not about the child, I feel like it is a way to maintain control and dependency. But for the poor child who doesn’t know any different- how do you begin to explain that their home is not normal? I do not know if they go through the abuse that I did. I don’t believe it is as physical as mine was but I do believe she is emotionally neglective. She trains the children in the way she wants them to go.

Of course they have their home school friends and co-op classes but those are all pre-determined by my mother. And if my mother has made up her mind that you are a threat- goodbye to you! I wish I could call her out on all of this. But no one in the family sees it and if they do they are shutting up about it.

I can’t keep living my life worried about my sisters or what will happen or if I will have a relationship with them. As sad as it is- a time with come but right now ignorance is bliss for them. I just won’t be surprised if one or any of them won’t be able to go to church or do anything else that is a trigger. What happens when they are 18 or go to college? What will they think?

I hope with all my life that they aren’t going through the same emotions I went through secretly on my own. That would break my heart.

The Words that Heal

Last time I visited my therapist she said to think up of an action plan of what to do when I feel overwhelmed. I have been drawing a blank these past couple weeks and I couldn’t figure out anything. I saw this post on Yahoo the other day that talked about an Anger Box for newlyweds.

You get a box, you and your husband write love letters to each other  whenever you want and however many times you want. Fill up the box and then shut it. Then whenever you feel like giving up/calling it quits or get so mad at each other -you will open up that box and read your love letter written to you by your spouse. It helps remind you what it is truly all about.

I do have a blessings box. That is when I write about blessings God has provided for me so I do not forget about him. I have kinda slacked off/not being noticing the blessings during my “haze”. And like my last entry (speaking in quotes) sometimes I just don’t want anything to do with God because of my abusive triggers.

My task today besides cleaning the house and going to therapy will be to get these boxes together and start writing some letters. I might write on the outside what it will help for. So for example I will write a letter that will explain how life is so beautiful and all my plans if I become suicidal. Also my husband’s letters will help remind me how much I mean to him and that will help.

Another one is if I feel so overwhelmed by sharing living space with others- I will write a letter about how much of a blessing they are. Or if I can’t stand to read a scripture because of a trigger- I will read a letter I wrote to God. I struggle with seeking attention to wanting to be covered like a nun. I also struggle with extreme anxiety, nightmares, fantasies, anger, depression, self-esteem, using food as my comfort, exercise abuse triggers, anti social behavior and more.

I haven’t developed anything else for that action plan but I know this will help. I am excited to start this journey of helping myself heal. I might even put a couple letters I write to myself on here to share. I have a lot of work to do. 🙂

 

Boiling Water

Sorry I have been gone for awhile. I needed a break. I have lots of triggers coming up, anxiety yet again but this post will be more so of a “rant”.

I am so sick and tired of holding everything in. I wish I could just let it all out. I don’t understand why just because she refuses to see how it is her fault or mentally ill that she can’t own up to all the crap she has put me through. I found out some new information that has brought up this rage from inside of me. I spoke about my attack in the Tree’s Secret blog and found out that all these years she has blamed me for what happened. I was only 10 years old! I don’t put it past her now that I know how she is but I am done showing compassion for right now. I want her to answer to all the crap she put me through.

I am so angry even now just typing about it. Why do I have to suffer in silence? Why do I have to not say anything and turn the other cheek? I have never said one ill word to her in years and it is taking a toll.

Now there is another situation at hand, not with her but with someone else. This woman has a tender heart, sweet nature but is always around. I am a newly wed without having the pleasure of living with just my husband. I am sick and tired of sharing him, not having any privacy, daily interruptions and disruptions. I know they are so sweet, have provided so much for us and we are forever grateful to them…. It has been years that this has been going on and I am starting to get fed up. I have never spoken on this subject ever.

I do not have the heart to. I don’t want to come across as attacking but her thinking pattern is so different than mine- she forces it to be her way. I do not understand why subtle changes bother me so much. Just yesterday a subtle change was made and that made me fly off the handle (in private of course).

I do not like confrontation but yet I create so much of it within my self. I strongly wanted to cut yesterday. I know I need help, I know I am mentally unstable at times of extreme stress or triggers. I go to my therapist today and I am going to see if she can teach me some tools to calm myself down.

I guess overall I just feel like I cannot communicate how I feel to the people I need to, so as a result I stuff it down inside. I am so tired of stuffing. I want to be a happy, easy going, roll with the punches type of person but I am going through so much right now- I don’t see a way out besides self harm. The nightmares are continuing at times, the triggers are worse and I want things to be different.

To the One Who Wears the Mask

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I know you.

I am apart of you.

When the fogginess of wanting to be accepted by you has cleared- I am left with heartache. My heart does not ache for myself or my own pain but for the mask wearer. I know if you probably read this it wouldn’t even sink in. You are too far gone in your mask.

I feel your pain and the heaviness of the mask. I didn’t know you as a little child but you went through some traumas of your own. Being the first child- did you have anyone to lean on? Did you create the mask as a little child to fool people that hurt you?

I can see how a mask can be empowering and an escape to a little child when the home is turmoil and unstable. It was like a breath of fresh air. Something you could control and focus your energy into. You can be anyone you want to be in your mask. No one has to know who you really are or what your life is really like. I can understand your mind was just trying to protect its self. I told you- I know you. I am apart of you.

At first the mask was a protection tool and an escape. Over time it became your face, your safe haven, your “go to” and as time went on- you took the mask off less and less. Why would you need to take it off? It would only show the hurt, the pain, the abandonment, the broken home and the abuse. You like the mask better- anyone would.

You have a huge hole in your heart and this mask fills it for you. You rid yourself of the liability of feeling guilt because guilt and shame were thrown at you as a child constantly. You witness first hand how manipulation can get you things that you want so you developed the tool.

As a little girl when you tried to emotionally latch on you were rejected, hurt and abused. You stripped yourself from viewing people as people and only as objects. Looking at a person as an object means they cannot hurt you and you don’t have to be emotionally bound to them.

The mask provides you with just seeing their uses and how they can benefit your mask further. I compare it to sex “without the strings” of the relationship. You view, collect and pick people for their uses and benefits “without the strings” of emotional attachment.

And of course how can a mask be fun if it doesn’t make you feel better? Want to be sexier? Smart? Desirable? Smooth? Charming? You as time went on made the mask so incredibly pretty. You softened the edges so “the objects” can’t find the seam-line. Your mask is slowly latching onto your face but what you have created makes you feel so good.

Let me illuminate something for you before think your mask can save you. Have you ever thought about the side effects of wearing a mask for so long? It gets hot, stuffy, suffocating and sometimes it actually sticks to your face. Your mask helped you as a child deal with your emotions and help defuse the situation but now it is apart of you.  You can’t get it off or change it nor do you want to because you are still that scared little girl behind the mask.

The mask has its own mind now. Its own wants and needs and you must fill it at any cost or it’ll start to crack. And the “objects” will see. The mask that used to be a breath of fresh air is now a parasitic leech. You and your mind have no idea about this. You cannot see the damage it is causing you because you have wiped away the feeling of remorse or guilt. You do not care in your mask. You just want it your way and to feel good about yourself.

The horrible side effect of your mask has made you callous and shallow. Can anyone ever truly smile in a mask? No. No one can see your real smile and the mask won’t let you- even if you knew how to smile. You mimic what you have seen over the years because you, yourself did not let yourself experience or deal with emotions. Your brain never made the connection as a small child.

Your escape has now become your prison. I told you- I know you. I am apart of you.

One night, after I cut my legs so deeply my dad and step mom found me outside. They helped me into the bathroom and washed away all the blood. It was such a humbling, loving experience- I couldn’t help but cry. They were cleaning the cuts I made because I hated myself so much.

I wish I could provide you with that kind of support, love and understanding. They didn’t hate me or get mad at me for what I did. They were just there to surround me with love. I wish I could peel back the mask piece by piece and save you. I would do it in a heartbeat for you. I wouldn’t hate you, judge you, leave you or whatever else you might think- I want to just surround you with love and help you.

This is how much I love you.

My heartaches for you because I know the little girl is stuck behind the mask still reliving all the trauma and pain. I just want her to come out and heal. I want her to experience life in the way it is meant to be, to truly love and to be loved. I don’t want you to drown in your own sorrow and pain. I don’t want you to be cut off from family and friends. I don’t want you to be imprisoned by your own mask- I want you to just be free.

This is how much I love you.

Little Poison Stings

I went to my 2nd therapy session yesterday nervous, anxious and excited. I love going to therapy because I love reflecting on questions that challenge me. I also am nervous about what will be talked about because I have noticed therapy can be a trigger. I would rather bury all the memories and emotions then go through them one by one. I worry about how I will feel afterwards. Will have nightmares, will I be too irritable or be trigger to self harm? Yesterday’s session was really good. No nightmares, not a lot of irritability and no self harming. 🙂

We are going through the initial paperwork so my therapist/counselor can get an idea of what I have been through and possible treatment plans. I do have to say my anxiety doesn’t feel like it is flowing over the top all the time anymore. It is only unbearable when a trigger has been flipped in my mind. I am trying to rely on God more and focus on what to be thankful for. I am also walking our dogs around where we live to get my mind off of things and to exercise but not to do it alone. If I were to exercise alone- that would be a trigger.

This blog is helping me a lot. I have been able to channel what I want to say publicly without having the consequences of unmasking my identity.Plus I have the freedom to write about whatever I want. In my previous blog I titled it The Broken Record because with my m.’s actions it feels that way BUT I also feel like a broken record. For years I have spoke on and explained things that have happened in my life. My loop of emotions and what I feel I must talk about. I keep talking and feeling the same things. I am stuck in a sand hole without a way to climb out.

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During my 1 hour session I gave the counselor some emails that have really hurt me from my m. one from Easter which I talk about in The Broken Record, and also one that uninvited me from this past Christmas. She told me she was able to see how my m. sends and uses her poison. The empathy I see in my counselor’s face as she reads the emails is so comforting. I’m not used to people “getting it” or understanding my side or feelings at all. I am used to family scolding me for my feelings and denying they are real.

I received a phone call before Easter from a family member who didn’t like what I would say about my m. I tried to confide in her about my emotions and tell her the stories. Instead, the family member viewed it as if I was hating on someone that was so nice, sweet and someone she really looked up to. Well she called me this past weekend and apologized for everything. Which is HUGE! My heart was so overjoyed with this news. Not only did she apologize but she said that she can understand/see how I feel.

She is a very sweet hearted woman and wouldn’t go into too much detail after that. With her phone conversation I realized something very important. The relationship I build with her, my sisters, and other family members from that side do not need to be pulled into the middle of this. But rather be loved, and cherish and build a relationship with them. I don’t need to prove that my trauma was real to anyone.

All my life I have tried to latch on to family members from that side to “open their eyes” about my m. To try and get some conformation that I wasn’t crazy and to tell them everything that happened behind closed doors. I even wrote a 1/2 of a journal writing examples to my sisters to give to them one day but now I realize that was all in vain. I need to build the relationship with others for what it is and not use them to make myself feel better. My intentions are good but that would place anyone in an awkward position.

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Enough is enough. I am not longer giving my m. the dominating control of my life. I no longer speaking about it to other family members. I am no longer going to harbor or stuff my emotions down. I am going to deal with it privately and get better. I am deleting the emotional control she has over me.

My counselor said that her emails are the way she injects a little poison at a time in me. It is one avenue she has control over me. I no longer respond to her emails because it is a worthless fight. She doesn’t comprehend or care about what she does to me. The counselor asked me what would happen if I were to block her emails. I just sat there wondering, “But what if I miss something that is loving, what if she apologizes, or what if she invites me back in and I miss it?” Without even hearing my thoughts the woman with the clipboard said, “You have to realize every time your m. contacts you- it is poison. Like a little poison injection each and every time she emails you or contacts you. She uses shame, religion, lies and twisting the truth as her manipulation. There are relationships that are good to have in your life, and then there are relationships that are toxic. She is a toxic relationship to you. Every time she contacts you it is toxic.”

For some reason hearing those words gave me clarity. She is totally right. My mother is toxic. And with that being said I have realized that every email ever sent to me is toxic as well. It always hurts. I am hoping for a loving mother to come one day and just sweep me up, owe up to everything she has done and to drop the mask. I am done waiting and I am done with the hurt. I am ready to get and to be better. I moved her email address to spam- so I will not even be notified when she sends me an email. I feel empowered already.

 

The Broken Record

Vinyl Revival

You would think I would know how to prepare when I see it coming. You would think I would know how to let it “roll off my shoulders”. But holidays are spent with family, laughs, food and traditions. What if you are uninvited to your own family get together? No word, no call, no letter, nothing.

I have talked about this a little bit before. I knew the email was coming. I had a gut feeling but what I did not know is how much it really does effect me. It wasn’t until I had an anxiety attack at church this Easter Morning I realized the severity of it. Easter is a time of rejoicing, praise and worship. So why was I asking certain songs to be muted and certain phrases to be not be spoken?

My ears cringe every time I hear someone say or shout, “He is RISEN!” or I hear the song, All in All or In Christ Alone. I finally have figured out why it throws me into a swirling sea of emotions- it is because of my mother.

Every Easter when I lived with her or visited her she would say this phrase and I had to reply back with another phrase. If I did not- I would be in trouble. I cannot stand that phrase even though I love the meaning behind it. I love Jesus and I am so thankful he took my guilt, my shame and all my sin away. I beyond happy that he defeated death and rose again. But just that phrase or those songs that she used to play all the time just make me want to hurl or lash out in rage.

If you have been reading my blogs you know that I do not get emails (/contact) currently from my m. at all and if I do they are generic greeting cards. And that I do not have contact with her by her choice. So in the middle of worship at church the triggers were thrown at me. I had to sit down and try to calm my anxiety attack down.

I had a normal day today besides the fact I am still mourning family members’ passing and being away from my family. My husband’s family came, we had a great dinner, some time to talk and an all around nice time together. My heart longed to be with my sisters or to at least have them included in my life.

I received an email from my m and of course- I saw it coming. I knew it would happen. All it said in the message was “He is RISEN! He is Risen Indeed. Love, Mom.” That’s it. You know how that made me feel, EVEN THOUGH I KNEW IT WAS COMING- it broke my heart. Not even signed with love from my sisters or step dad. Not even signed with a thinking of you, or love you.

At first it didn’t bother me but sitting there thinking about how I am not wanted in part of my family’s life- just tore me apart. I wanted to scream and to email a quick response back with something snippy and clever like “Why don’t you try sending a real email next time or just don’t bother at all- I only hear from you on holidays anyway. At least I had the nerve to call you and wish you Happy Easter.”

I didn’t even respond but that is what I would of loved to say. I did call after that email was sent and of course had to speak to the voicemail. She screens her calls and decides when to answer. And it is always so awkward for me because normally you say “See you soon or talk to you later” well, in my case that is not true at all. I won’t see her or my sisters soon and I mostly like will never talk to them again until she decides to let me.

It burns me. It really burns me. I am going to bring it up to the therapist when I go this next week and see what she says. This happens every year and I get the same crash afterwards and you know it probably doesn’t even bother her. She is just thinking “Okay, I did the bare minimum to still remain the title of Mom.” At least that is what it feels like to me.

This happens every single year and I can predict down to the WORDS of what she will say to me or how she will say it. You think by now I would be okay with it or not care. I wish I didn’t care. For my birthday card one year I got in my 20s she signed it: “Thank God you are here one more year to serve him.” That is ALL SHE WROTE ladies and gents- ALL SHE WROTE. Not an I love you, not Happy Birthday or anything else personal.

I was in disbelief when I read it. I just couldn’t believe it. Aren’t you some what thankful for me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me? You can see now how easily it is to have animosity towards God because that is how her abuse and control is delivered. It is so hard for me not to cut myself right now. I have so much bottled up- even the tasty cheesecake can’t comfort me.  Don’t worry- I won’t. I haven’t cut for years because I made a promise to my father to not cut anymore but the urge is getting stronger.