A Letter to My Sons
To My Darling Sons, It hurts knowing how I burden you daily with my deep seeded angst from having come from the family, which I do. And yet, I cannot…
Abuse is Abuse
Sound familiar? So, this is my modified version of the Narcissists Prayer. I have re-evaluated my need to label others as addicts or narcissists. In my attempt to recover, I found myself needing to know “but whyyyyy???” And the singular answer of “because I suck” is no longer acceptable to me. My upbringing taught me over decades of collective attitudes and actions, that any harsh treatment of me was either →imagined →fabricated, or →well earned. And that is 100% deranged and untrue. AND–It stands to reason that if I am willing to believe I can earn abuse or cause someone else to mistreat me, you know what else I believe…that another person may earn abuse or cause me to mistreat them.
A Letter From My Sons
Dear Aunt Catherine, Spending time with you makes us feel bad; bad about you, bad about our mom, our grandmother, your daughters, and bad about our dad. Being in the…
Courage to Change
I get that my mother did the best she could…and STILL–what happened to me is not right or acceptable. I know we differ in many ways, she and I, one of the more pronounced ways, is that if and when I am struggling to understand and be present for either of my children, I count on friends, whom I call family, to stand in that gap, not to align with me against my sons. My mother’s need to be right outweighed her need for connection with and protection of me. She invited others to align with her, to shame or frighten me into something other…and I sure did become something other than what I was born to be in this world. Ashamed. Angry. Disconnected. Broken AF.
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happy mothers’ day
Is it unreasonable to wish for a mother who would not contribute to or support initiatives that are guaranteed to escalate tension between her grandsons' parents? IS IT? I knew…
The Zero-Sum Game–Everyone Loses
I cannot help but marvel at how “they” manufacture chaos and trouble so they can dole out punishment, while denying their anger. A part of my mind says don’t speak or write about it, they will like that—making them feel all important and impactful. The other part of me says “fuck them, I want the world to know what twisted assholes they can be”. And the recovery part of me says “Write about it if it helps you to sift and heal. Share it to help others on a similar journey”. (more…)
Every Time I Judge
I used to have immense shame over how I struggled and how I felt, like I was embarrassed for my feelings. WTF? Difficult feelings were for judging not having or…
Recovery Celebrations
I was alllwaaaays melting down-losing my shit. I had not learned healthy coping skills. For my first 40 years, secondary feelings about my feelings kicked my ass. In our home feelings…
Best Days of Our Lives
Last night, Bryan Adams' song "Best Days of Our Lives" played on the radio. For a moment I felt nostalgic, reminded of senior year, summer in particular where we were…
Shame on Who(or whom)?
You know, as I reflect back on my first 30 years, I no longer feel overtaken by shame. Shame for immense & unspeakable pain and my inability to manage myself…
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