My JOB

“Mom, have you ever felt suicidal?”, asked my son. I admitted: “Yeh, but mostly only on special occasions when I was tethered to people who shunned and criticized me literally for who I was and how I felt. That began when I was very small and continued into adulthood.” I explained how those times were not only lonely but also felt humiliating–seemingly defining. I envisioned all of the good people enjoying being connected and included, celebrating with people, foods, and gifts which reflected some regard for them. The contrast made me want to not be here anymore. The pain of not being valued and welcomed by those closest to me, defies articulation.

I am doing the work & paying the price for freedom from unloving people, arrangements, beliefs, and practices which tolerate that.

NOTHING can make what happened, ok– and– my healing is the best I can do for myself and for those who value and count on me.

I have felt sure of so many things about love (and other stuff too) which have been incorrect or untrue- either because I misunderstood or because I was only partially or ill informed. One thing is for sure: As I know better, I do better. I had learned a lot of unhealthy attitudes and behaviors.

My favorite Number 1 Key Unlearning : It was never (and still is not) my job to be easy, pleasing, impressive, or interesting (to my parents or anyone, really). And equally, it is not my children’s job to please, be interesting, or impressive to me (or others). The right people will be interested and pleased when we live lives reflective of exactly who TF we genuinely are.

My job, as Mother, is to teach my children how to be fulfilled and kind humans.  This is challenging (particularly during the holiday season) as I am also learning these things for myself. None of this is to say that I don’t GAF what others think or feel, only that being fulfilled and kind matters more to me than being impressive, pleasing, or interesting in some sort of performative way.

Pretending to be, feel, or want as I do not is 100% the opposite of being fulfilled and leaves me too resentful to practice kindness. We are breaking these cycles. One Day At a Time.

Let Go or Be Dragged

I may spend all of my days seeking a way to forgive and emotionally release one who knowingly chooses to do harmful things to those who cross her or are no longer useful.

For now, this is the best I can do:

“I am truly sorry for whatever is going on in your life that makes you feel compelled to do these things.  I hope you find the healing you need.”

As the holidays approach, I worry for my sons that they will be dragged through things not meant for them…things which further divide their already divorced parents– because apparently harming them is less fun than letting them be.

Weird side note: My sons and I have become increasingly aware of weaponizing sensitivity(honest expression of discomfort), people using unwholesome tones to say things like: “What is wrong with you? Why are you so mad? Why are you so defensive? Why are you yelling? You are so sensitive. Lighten up. Chill out.” Each of these communicate something vastly different from “What is going on with you? What do you need? You seem upset, what can I do?” It is passive agressive and confusing when you are young and innocent, still. Here is to wishing an emotionally safe and wholesome, non-confsuing, non-traumatic and non-divisve holiday season for my sweet boys.

Caroline Myss Quote- Photo Text: Seeing and admitting the truth about ourselves, about our role in creating our own problems, and about how we relate to others is vital for healing.

Week Five

Unrelated things which I have thought or heard over the past five weeks:

Sometimes we need to explain or discuss things in order to gain a deeper understanding.  Explaining is not the same as excusing.  Some things will be unexplainable and some things, inexcusable.

An unspoken truth is still true.

Compassion and sympathy are rooted in the belief that we are all similar in that we each equally deserve to have our most basic human needs met and protected.

Some people will be obsessed with and offended by otherness.

My voice gets loud quickly and often without my awareness.  I am terrible at modulating.  I yell (raise my voice-get loud) without knowing or meaning- when I feel afraid. I was afraid for most of my life.

Who was your constant ally?  Who unfailingly believed in you and made you feel seen, safe, and connected? If you can name someone, you are blessed. In recovery I have learned to discern who is safe and wanting only the best for me and to give space to everyone else, when possible.

It is not possible to solve a problem you will not name, recognize, acknowledge.

Pessimists are always very certain that THEY ARE RIGHT.  Genuinely Optimistic people believe and accept that the future is uncertain.

I have recently learned and would like to remember the term obsequious. Remembering things has been a challenge.

Obsequious people are usually not being genuine; they resort to flattery and other fawning ways to stay in the good graces of those they are desperate to impress. I never knew the name for this type of vibe, only that it was unsafe and yucky in my gut to be near.

It is possible to give and to still not be generous.  Generosity is when I give to those who can do nothing for me and also giving without need for thanks, recognition or payback.

People lacking in empathy, compassion, and courage will insist the oppressed are responsible for their own oppression.  These same people assert that the absence of openly expressed discord is satisfactory evidence of cohesion, peace, and justice.  

This will not get any different if we continue to do what we are doing.

People lacking a power greater than themselves and their possessions are often hurtful and feel deeply guilty for things they have done with no one to forgive them.

I will literally obsess about and overindulge in nearly anything if I think it will make me feel different (with the exceptions of effective grocery shopping, cleaning ,and exercise—deep sigh)

This is week 5 Post-Op and I have now finished with all medications.  Surgery inconveniences me more than it frightens or upsets me.  However —the spinning and nausea from most every single medication I have ever taken, is terrifying–I have felt too spinny to legit rest/sleep, watch TV, or even check out with my phone.  Today is my first lucid day. And, I still feel unable to expand on a single one of these thoughts.  Today’s Goals: shower, put on fresh clothes, and walk for 20, maybe 30 minutes.  Having been up for 5 hours and not yet felt inclined to do those things, I will pray for some self discipline. Staying horizontal for 35 days has zapped whatever motivation I may have once had.

A Different Kind of Life

As a child and young adult I had not known that I possessed any agency over the trajectory of my life. It seemed pre-determined.  In the place of connection and purpose, I felt helpless and hopeless shame & guilt– for things over which I had no control – and – which burdened and agitated others(which also apparently justified unkindness):

  • My extreme sensitivity (to emotional and sensory stimulus) with no guidance or support in times of overwhelm
  • My skin color and shape of my nose
  • Our non-Christian-ness
  • My name, my sister’s name, my parents’ names:  Magda, Jilan, Nabil, Judith
  • My mother’s and father’s-  overall appearance and everything about them
  • The constant rage and fighting in our home
  • My height, foot size, awkward skinniness
  • My clothing
  • My clear lack of belonging and direction
  • The food, music, aesthetic, and smells of our house
  • The effects of my older sister’s relentless unpunished mocking and gaslighting—I was literally hysterical from having my reality denied- by the person whom I needed most.
  • The way my family spoke to and of me

I am certain that my life experience would have differed greatly, if I’d felt even the slightest sense positive regard for myself. From a very early age, I was informed to believe: I am a bad person and therefore what I say and do is bad.  ALL People are either good or bad. What is a child even supposed to do with that???  My family insisted I could have improved my station if I had wanted to. If only I would just smile more, lighten up, grow thicker skin, and have a better attitude–oh while liking, wanting, and feeling the correct things as they did.  Oh, Okay.

Here is the upside. Without extreme self hatred, I would have not married the man (I literally married my sister) I did and therefore not have the exact children whom I have. I would not trade them for the world. But I am tired AF from it all. Not tired like I need sleep, but deperate for some internal peace. I look forward to going off the grid for a few hours this week for a surgical procedure.

We Love Jilan

We recently survived a tragic and highly traumatic event, with our most precious, best girl, an Albino Boa, named Goldie.  My older son adored and cared for Goldie in a way that stoked my unyielding awareness over having been regarded and cared for so differently. Absolutely thoughtful, unquestionably enamored, faithful, and dutiful.  He was endlessly researching best practices and provisions for the care and enrichment of his Goldie.

Before the event, my older son had been working for months to demonstrate sustained routinized household responsibility and commitment with an October 1 deadline. (Ok- it is not yet Ocotber 1, but I will be out of commisssion (for medical stuff ) for a few months, as of Wednesday, September 30 and my son’s dedication built so much trust – I wanted to reward his achievement: level 1 responsibility/privelge, which allows him to have another creature, an insect. Level 1 is an insect. Yup. It took us more than a year to string together 3 months of daily intentional and responsible practices. WE will need to discuss Level 2 expectations and rewards. His long term goal is to have and care for many reptiles. Thank goodness, we can do this one day at a time, striving toward responsiblity and an expansive reptile collection and expert husbandry.

While my son’s care for precious Goldie was impeccable, nothing else about his life was well tended to. N.O.T.H.I.N.G.  He circumvented Level 1 Responisbility requirements with me, for getting a snake, by arranging with his father. Finally though, achievement unlocked and yesterday he bought and set up a beautiful enclosure and all of the enrichment and accessories-  substrate, two climbing walls(for molting), a special dish for food and a heating pad.  He is saving for an apparently very special light fixture, which cost $75.00, for this new pet. Seventy five dollars!  For a light- for a bug. What a sweet little planner, organizer, and enthusiastic student of husbandry.

We picked up his pet India Domino Roach (click link to see–it is not gross at all) and WE are thrilled with her, (his brother and I) mostly with his joy over having her.  His younger brother bought IT for him. It wont be possible to discern the gender of our new friend, for maybe a year, so we needed a sort of androgynous type name.  Currently, we are calling it Jilan.  Last night my son immediately, following a long-ass game of Clue, raced to check on her, and reported back to me, whispering: “Jilan is busy exploring her new home” and a little later:  “Jilan ate some of her banana.”  He whispered about her because Sweet Greg wants to know and hear nothing of the bugs we are willingly collecting and housing, with potential breeding ambition.

My boys and I are getting a ton of pleasure and laughter off this lil bug that cost $10 and for now, looks like a rolly polly.  When it matures, it will resemble a ladybug but with a beautiful black and white design on it’s back. Who knew how much I would enjoy bugs and snakes and even a pet named after my sister?  Hating my sister is the worst. And forgiving and forgetting what she did, has not been possible. I think hearing and saying her name with love, is healing.  The name Jilan reminds me of a sister who also struggled in the same difficult environment and learned to cope— the ways that she did.  While Jilan was never particularly kind to me, I think that in her striving to become a Catherine Whitney, her attempts to demonstrate authority, superiority, and differentiation just happened to be damaging AF.  

I believe that if ever I had a sister who would have openly related to me, it was Jilan.  Again, ours was not a kind relationship, well before her name/shape shift.  It is hard to know-  she is 6 – 7 years older and we are indeed quite different, but similar, also.  I know we each have a lot of pain.

Cover Up!

As part of my practice of recovery, I do take daily personal inventory and sadly, I am not so recovered that I resist also taking my sister’s and my ex’s.  I yearn to enlighten them:  “What you did was irresponsible and mean and can not be excused, not by your mood, need, age or not knowing better.”

This obsession is unwholesome, but it is real and it is my truth- I want to tell them all about themselves.  SO- My sister arranged to have this blog scrubbed last week, of all but two (I think they were missed on this first round) of the links and tags to her name so that they no longer pull for an internet search, the content remains in tact, but links and tags have been disabled and de-indexed.  Classic maneuver—the silencing and erasing.   It would be nice to be able to just pay money or really anything to have the damage by her, minimized…erased.  If only….

I don’t love my anger but I sure appreciate knowing that it is real, it is not irrational or criminal for me to feel this way or to openly share.

Shame dies when stories are told in safe places. The Mindful Geek

What Shame Does

Nothing good is born out of shame.  Ever.  And it does not resolve itself over time. If we don’t intentionally work to heal it, shame makes us unwell, and also makes those around us sick–particularly our children.

According to Brené Brown, shame is an “intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.(…) I think the fear of disconnection can make us dangerous.”

Shame begs us to lie and pretend- to be, feel, and want as we do not.

It may drive us to be competitive in unhealthy ways and also to be cruel–to establish our goodness and worthiness only by comparison or “betterness” than others. It prohibits the possibility of humility/courage and thus honest ownership & reparations of our mistakes and harmful choices. Shame keeps us hustling for approval and validation – willing to say and do literally anything for the appearance of goodness, strength, impeccability, positivity, and authority.

Our shame can make us feel both bitter and entitled, while at the same time believing we are total shit.   Hot shit and piece of shit–all at once. Crazy that those two beliefs can exist along side each other in our psyches….entitlement and unworthiness. Either way, we feel disconnected–better than or less than—but no sustainable connection.

Shame can look like arrogance.

It will make us feel terrified – ALL OF TIME – that: 

  1. People know what we are actually like OR
  2. They will find out

Shame may make us abuse drugs, food, alcohol, shopping, sex—but mostly it will make us abusive…. and cowardly.

Shame tells us that we are not enough and that there is scarcity of all things good–and so we may tend to snatch and grab and withhold.

Shame causes depression, which for some causes even more shame and then maybe self-harm or suicide. OY— To feel ashamed– for feeling sad/alone/depressed–too ashamed to share or to seek help. Hopelessness. I am grateful to have learned about shame and to be recovering, in time to parent my sons in a more gentle and sane way.

I believe….that behind every bad deed and mean word, there is a whole fuck-ton of shame.  Shame is a lie, though, thriving only in darkness and secrecy.

While shame is toxic, it is not a life sentence. There is alllllways hope and help. Any 12 Step Program can help us heal our shame issues. When we are Honest, Open, Willing, we can break the cycles and the generational curse of shame.

Also, I do know some precious tender and kind people who suffer from shame. They are always believing that they cause all of the bad things. People with shame tend to be either the bully or the bullied.

almost anything is possible when you have a place to bloom

ACA Daily Reading January 12- Fear

From Strengthening My Recovery p13- January 12 Trait One

“We became isolated and afraid of people and authority figures.” Big Red Book p.10

So many of us shut down and hide because of our fear of people and authority figures.  Most of this fear stems from the way we were treated when we were young.  Understandably, what we learned as children carries over into most everything we do today: fear of our partner or boss, fear of success or failure, fear of conflict-  the list can seem endless.


Our childhood authority figures, our parents, were often physically, verbally, emotionally abusive.  One thing many of us thought we learned for sure:  if anything went wrong, it was our fault.(…..)

On this day I acknowledge the fears I’ve carried for most of my life, and I remind myself that I a now safe.  I take deep breaths and feel gratitude for the people in my life who are kind and loving.

What a miracle to realize my absence of fear, from my daily life. My pain comes from remembering what happened, not worrying about what could happen. PTSD. I know there is work to do here and I also am taking note of how far I have come.

ACA Generational Grief- Strengthening My Recovery

ACA Daily Reading January 11- False Self

This is my 11th day since receiving my daily reader.  Below is the daily reading for January 11, titled False Self:

Many of us couldn’t be ourselves as children.  In order to survive, we bought our parents’ negative messages, and then as adults, we repeated the dishonest justifications for crazy behavior.  We remember our destructive false pride that wouldn’t allow us to admit mistakes or to feel vulnerable.  On some level, we always knew what we were doing, but our false self was in charge and we didn’t have the words or thought processes to do things differently or to express true feelings.

What hurts the most is that for those of us who have children, we have modeled this dishonest behavior for them.  As much as we tried to stop ourselves, we just couldn’t see our way through, to show them a better side.

In recovery, we now see that our wounds were so deep that it’s hard to imagine that we had a hole that big on our soul. Today, we can see that our lack of honesty for so long is constant proof of the trauma we suffered as children, and the reason we need ACA to break the cycle.  This is where we strip away all the layers of shame that created our false self.  WE now more readily admit our shortcomings because as adults we can handle any fallout.  In doing so, we keep the family craziness from growing.

On this day I release my false self and have the courage to admit when I am wrong.  I do this so that the hurt stops piling up, for both others and myself.

excessive and ineffective overgeneralization of a happy, optimistic state across all situations. The process of toxic positivity results in the denial, minimization, and invalidation of the authentic human emotional experience.

I Don’t Get It

I was thinking how little I have in common with my family of origin. And then I realized HEY: for most of my life, we did actually have ONE thing in common. None of us had been taught or allowed to navigate or articulate our full human emotional experiences. 

Fortunately, the SKILLS, for honestly and safely connecting, can be intentionally cultivated and practiced as adults, if they are not modeled and learned in childhood. I learn them by studying and practicing the Twelve Steps and Traditions of my program. Unlearning has also been essential to my recovery.

In my family of origin empathy and compassion seem strictly reserved for animals and far away third world peoples. The many and marvelous philanthropic gestures, dedicated specifically to those struggling in far away lands or with four legs, cannot be denied. There is this disconcerting thing though, when people act friendly, social, and charitable and— at the same time are both cruel and harsh. The incongruity is formidable.

As the lone highly sensitive and deep feeler of feeeeeeelings, I was humiliated by my inability to hide or to manage better. I was incapable of feeling good (peace, joy, trust) while simultaneously distraught– and frequently called out for ruining everything, in this way. Why couldn’t I just suck it up, lighten up, move on, be positive? My failure to cope/comply was labeled as an ungrateful and negative attitude. I still fail to enjoy or relax in close proximity to any person(my whole family and later a husband) who judges and punishes me for feeling as I do. So odd how in this system, diminishing words and deeds go unpunished and unjudged but hard feelings honestly communicated, are regarded as treasonous efforts to upset others. What TF even is that?  I really honest to god do not get it.  My sister would always say this to me :  You just don’t get it.  No, I really do not, Jilan. My ex will totally validate my not gettingness of THIS.

I gag to recall in marriage, my husbandy person would want intimacy sex, after days of actively not speaking to or looking at me and I was like: “EW, wtf, Sorry But I am wired in a way that I can literally not- feel abandoned, afraid, ashamed— AND horny all at once. How about you try kindness for foreplay? That shit is fire.” Eerily similar to my sister doing or saying the divisive and demeaning things and then arranging dinner together and retaliating at my prioritized interest in first resolving the thing. 

I think I may finally almost get it, but I do not want or choose IT, for myself, my children, my non-essential relationships.