It is NOT NORMAL

Destroying children and families is not normal, I would argue. Triangulating with an ex husband and building a relationship on shared contempt for your “sister” is not fucken normal. No matter what. And this is just one of the observable acts. They used to have me convinced A) This is how things are handled by those in charge. and B) I deserve to be treated poorly and should shut up. I could not. I screamed. Raged. Drank. Binged. Purged. You name it. I lost my mind trying to get right with some shit that is 100% not right. And I took that thinking and way of being into the world. My refusal to tolerate or engage as they do unleashed the full undeniable wrath. For too long it was denied. As the only evidence of any problem was my inability to cope with things to which I did not consent and could not reject. I was a disaster. Terrified. Angry. Distraught. My recovery has illuminated our irreconcilable differences. Deep sigh.  I am intentional in communicating to my sons that there is nothing normal about what is happening and that it is not ok or their (my sons’) fault or responsibility.  While they must please their father to survive, they are welcome to express their true feelings to me.  He has no regard for their discomfort and the feelings they have sitting at a table with people who openly behave in ways that hurt their mother and do not speak of it or her.  WTF?  Fuck eggshells and big elephants in the room.  We share our truths here.  We talk about those elephants and that eggshells are the things that people are too afraid to speak of.  And together, we have nothing to fear…maybe that is why they wanted to divide us from each other.  The legacy of abuse stops here.  I will not quietly stand by while they are thrown into insane shark tank to eat or be eaten to sink or to swim.  

“Learning to examine our attitudes, motives, behavior and feelings in order to keep healing can be a tall order for those of us raised in homes affected by alcohol.  We often learned early in life not to talk about what we saw, not to trust anyone but ourselves, and especially not to feel, because our feelings could be so devastating.  Yet we have found that we must challenge all three of these early childhood decisions about the nature of life if we are to recover from the family disease of alcoholism.  Feelings, once unfrozen, are our surest guide to all the nooks and crannies of our minds.” (words of wisdom spoken in my meeting)

But no joke–my perception of my family was that we seek justice, total vigilantes…just BEING right and punishing those in need and deserving of harsh imposed consequences.  I was raised to believe in people’s right to punish those who displease and people’s need to be punished.  It sickens me to recall feeling so right and so wrong but never ok.

Recovery teaches me that it is my duty to speak up and out against anything that falls out side of the bounds of wholesome love, equality, justice.  Our job is to speak up.   I wonder if my sister gets confused because she is married to a judge…When we were in that therapy situation, where I lost my mind and my baby, literally miscarried, my sister, no lie, said;  “Well I am married to a judge and we are all about honestly and honor.”  Who says that?  That comment was in response to calling out some dishonesty on her part.

The truth is always the right thing to say.((And we all know there are ways to express factual truths in ways that are fucken dishonest))  Behaving with honor is always the right thing to do—ALL OF THE TIMES…Somehow in my FOO, it seems there are those who are right, perhaps by birth or by title and those who are just wrong at a cellular level.  I pray my sister’s husband is more deeply connected to goodness, justice, fairness than she.  She has enjoyed her persona as host and gift giver to those she aims to impress or woo OR as THE punisher…alllllways either in awe of you or so threatened that she must retaliate.  I do not believe her (Judge) husband would justifiably do harm.  He is more benevolent than that, not vindictive or sneaky and has moments of gorgeous humility.  None of us are always right.  This is a difficult truth for her.  Hang on, I am almost finished taking her inventory.  hahahah  I am a work in progress, cleaning up my mess and holding the torch.

I will continue working on myself.  And if I ever said or did something assholey to you or someone you knew, God, I am so sorry.  And if I ever tried to make out or go home with you,  I am so sorry.  Them was some desperate times.  I did not know what wholesome love was, so I also did not know what wholesome love was not.