I feel constantly curious as to what my sister could have communicated to THE family to make them ALL (but three) literally ghost me. I was not close with any of them but to hear from nobody when my mother died is more than non-closeness. It is maddening to have not a sliver of a clue – what they got sold. What I know for certain is that my female sibling is desperate to save face and gather support for what she was doing and would absolutely say or do anything to appear right and a victim, even while her actions observable to many, demonstrated otherwise. But seriously, with no contact at all with any of them for years, what could I have been reported to have done to EARN this? Since looking good or innocent or blameless is not part of my situation, I would totally blab unfortunate details about myself right here, if I had even the teeniest idea. I guess Iwill never know. Maybe one day, I will stop hating that so much. Must be unspeakably bad.
What I do feel grateful about is that with no member of the family acknowledging me at the time of my mother’s passing, I do now breathe more easily knowing that nobody shall burden me with information of sickness or death of those to whom I remain genetically linked. We are not each other’s concerns. They are all actively in support of this kind of family dynamic or complicit. I do suffer from it though. If the plan was intended to make me feel abandoned and shitty. It absolutely works. Still. Every single day.
This outcome was a lifetime coming though. I think it is clear that my misdeeds and damaging words(mostly until the age of 40 when I discovered recovery from, a name for, and solutions to– the family disease of perceptions and relationships) were rooted in my feeling impossibly bad, unwanted, and unworthy- basically because I was repeatedly told so. And– Believing that happiness is proof of worthiness, was particularly damaging to a depressed and traumatized child–then adult. From my earliest days, I was unacceptable and undeserving of protection, connection and peace– but for periodic lapses when I either felt momentarily ok or managed to appear so.
Moving cross country relieved some of that. Abstaining from contact with my family and ending a fucked up marriage which mimicked that family experience, were steps in the right direction. I have used up my adult life attempting to understand and create space and be different from those who diminsh me– and also have never managed to progress toward discerning what I might actually want or enjoy. Stopping the bleed has not equalled healedness and peace. It was necessary and affirming right action which seemed promising….until the unholiest of unions: my sister and my ex. I wake to the grief of that each day…and of course review and study it nightly before sleeping and dreaming of exactly this. I am grateful for the high observability of calculated cruelty and damage of those carefully executed arrangements. Things done and said which negatively affect my children to this day. While justifications may abound, there is no excuse and no forgetting or denying the fallout from THAT.
Today is the 1-Year anniversary of the death of our beloved Goldie. I cried more for that snake and the loss it was to my son than I ever did over the passing of my mother and especially hers. It is also the anniversary of the horseshit birthday party hosted by my sister (for my son turning 8) to include my ex, his sister, and my young sons– AND not me.
Clearly it is also my son’s birthday which is stressful because I feel more pain than joy which is no measure of my love for him or his lovability and worthiness. I feel too low to effectively participate in celebratory things, ever. And my secondary feelings over this are equally intense, feeling sinful about being a depressed and traumatized person, frightened over the ongoing and lasting affects on my sons.
Below are random thoughts I wrote down in the last few weeks that need to be expressed so that I may move beyond the study of them.
If you have dismissed and judged my distress, you have added to it, and no doubt have feelings only bout how wrong and burdensome and at fault I am. You are not my people. I reject you right back. But of course, I wish it were all different.
I have existed in constant fear of the world and the people in it(starting first with those who had the most access to me) and of what they would do to me and allow for me and demand of me. People in my home needed for me to be like them and punished me for failing. My longing for sameness(of people who sickend me, literally) made me want to die. If only I had been a better pretender, abuse getter and master of collective rejection and banishment or simply adopted a mental likeness to them, in the ways in which they needed–so they could be good to me.
My family, nuclear and extended, perpetuated my despair(while judging it) with collective efforts to force unfit solutions(demand I be and feel different) rather than helping me(the youngest of the family) learn to actually deal with it.
Also—Just because you said it doesn’t make it true. By not saying a thing, you have also not made it less true.
Just because you remember it, does not mean it happened as you think it did. Not remembering a thing happening does not mean it did not happen.
Love(the kind which I now understand, beleieve in, and practice) says I value you more than I judge you. I would rather connect than be right or in charge and I will do nothing to harm you. These ways were not of interest to the family in which I was born. My efforts to look at and bridge gaps and to hear each other got me exactly what I have today.
Thank gawd I am no longer alone with these thoughts and experiences. I gave up seeking permission from those whom I needed most to hear me, to see me, to show me love and connection to allow me to be who and how I am.
Today feels challenging. Poor Sweet Greg will be here shortly with his gentle strength, patience, support, and unwavering loyalty. I don’t yet know what to do with it-even after nearly 6 years, it feels awkward and uncomfortable.
