A House Divided

Since my last post- I have had mixed emotions about how I am feeling. I will go from empowerment, mourning to feeling completely cut off. It seems like the family always sides with the Abuser then the Victim. I don’t understand why that is.

I mean my story has stayed the same and it has been years of this conflict- why wouldn’t someone in the family believe me? I have the support of my friends and other family members that are not apart of that side but I still feel alone. I guess deep down I was really hoping someone from that side would finally believe me and support me.

Granted I did disown her publicly and that might not of been the best choice but at that moment I didn’t really care. I have a voice and there is no reason why I shouldn’t be able to speak. It is not fair that in this world if you have something to say you can only say it if people want to hear it. If they don’t or if people don’t agree with you it automatically means you are either wrong, stupid or shouldn’t speak up at all.

I couldn’t imagine being a spokesperson about child abuse, bullying, abuse or anything else without having the support from the family that is involved. I am strong enough to handle the no support from the immediately family it is just a huge disappointment. It’s like you are hoping someone makes the right choice and they don’t. There is nothing I can do about it- I was just hoping for more.

Plus it doesn’t help my m. is a sociopath, narcissist and a very good actress. From what I know about my life and about her is that the monster comes out only around me. Anyone else that starts to question her, she just cuts them out of her life.

I am very proud of myself for being strong enough to NOT regret or feel guilty about my declaration against her. I am very proud of myself for understanding a very important detail- Most families will side with the Abuser because they either can’t see it, don’t believe it or don’t want to acknowledge it. It is so much easier to walk away, deny and bury their head in the sand. Honestly- it feels like a personal attack and sometimes they do personally attack me but for the most part it is nothing personal. They cannot deal with it.

If you have someone like I have in my life like my m. she is very good at what she does. She goes to sick, the helpless, the older people with fixed meals, she fixes up churches, helps out- the “true christian”. She knows and teaches the Bible like the back of her hand, she is charming, she seems so sweet but it’s all an act.

If it wasn’t for my dad, his family, my husband and his, I would think I was crazy. It really is like everything that happens or things she does to me is denied and never happened. It makes you go a little loopy, specially when she is a master manipulator.

Switching to good news… I am going to get my first tattoo soon. I have been debating on what I want. Elaborate or small and chic? I think I might go small and chic. I want it to say something about freedom or being free. I like the idea of something like “I’m finally free” and then maybe something on the other foot “because of my courage”.

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.