No, But This Time I Mean It

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No, But This Time I Mean It

I intend to end this year of insanity, by allowing my mother’s recent passing to mark the end of my active attachment to a system which has collectively rejected me from my earliest days.  The ways in which I differ, they cannot understand, respect, OR control.  I officially accept my rejection.  Being excluded from the details of my mother’s death and the memorial service, is perhaps what I needed to be 100% certain.  I accept my powerlessness over the fact of their impeccably consistent behaviors and statements. What a pathetic waste of time, working so hard to reject their rejection.

I must waste no more time trying to understand or be understood.  The time to move on is RFN! 

Praying for the willingness to be guided by love and God and not my feeeeeeelings about the tragedy of this and the effects of THEM on my young sons.  My own recovery is the only thing of value I may offer my children. -Step One- I am incapable of service to my children, for as long as I remain mentally entangled. Please feel free to drop me a shiny gold ⭐️ for each day in which I post nothing of them or this.

Magda Gee

I am in a program of recovery for those whose lives have been affected by someone else's drinking, drug use, mental illness. I am newly learning faith, hope, and courage, practices not witnessed by me, in my childhood, with my family. Sadly, No Contact, as a last resort, is how I keep safe from diminishing words and actions directed at me. I think I have listened for the last time to how I deserve mistreatment. By holding out for something more wholesome and loving, I have been both banished and demanded to return. I prefer serenity to proximity. I will continue with my program and faith in the best possible outcome, so long as I do my part-- to stalk GOD as if my life depends on it.