Update Redux...

Since several of you have asked.... and thanks for asking.... :-)

I have been collecting unemployment for about 7 weeks. I have applied for more than 50 jobs. I have been called in for an interview on 2. I did not get one, the other - I had the interview today. It went well and is promising, but I won't know if I got it until after the holidays. So.... thank God for unemployment benefits.

Things are tight, but I am okay. Getting a little help from friends here and there. :-)

Still working on a lot internally and have a lot I could post, but I still don't have internet access at home, so the time I have on a local coffee shop's free wifi is spent on job hunting....

Thank you all for asking how I'm doing.

Update....

Wow. Time flies. Here it is 3 months since my last post.... and I'm sitting in Starbucks again using their free wifi....

Well, I have been unemployed now for 3 1/2 weeks. Waiting for (hoping) unemployment to kick in - looking for a job... and finding myself emotionally back in the grinder again. Hmm... maybe while I was working, I didn't have the energy to think too much... haha.

Seriously, the fears of inadequacy - of not being good enough, deserving enough - have surfaced again. And I feel like I have regressed 2 years, and yet I am not as bad as I was then (most of the time). But I realized I still fight the feeling, when I go in to interview for a job or apply for unemployment or register with the local jobs agency, that I have a fear of being in trouble - being told I did it wrong, and therefore not getting any help. And I recognize that goes back to when I was little and the parental tendency to tell me that when I messed up, it was my fault - no help. No comfort, just a lesson. Recognizing it helps some, but it is still tiring. And I am in the place right now where I have just paid November's rent and now have no money and am hoping unemployment kicks in this week....

And, I am back to remembering things from childhood... when I was 2. And I recognize what happened and who did it and that my mother and his mother both knew and covered it up. And that my mom insured my silence by employing religious threats - by somehow making it about hurting God if I talked.... shit! I can't remember exact words or the complete thing, but there are enough fragments that I am mostly settled on the gist of it. And I don't know what to do with it. Part of me wants to look the young man (he was about 16 at the time) and his mother up - I know where she is - and just ask them what the hell happened. But that is a scary proposition.... so.... I will have to work up to that, I think.

Back to the means my mom employed to keep my silence. Talk about a foundational religious twisting - I can't tell anyone or God will be mad at me because it will hurt the church... or something to that effect. And a 2 year old is supposed to be able to process that shit. I think the only thing that really stuck was that I had been bad and God was mad at me.... and that has stayed with me my whole life.

It boggles my mind that these two women, knowing what had happened when I was about 2 1/2, would, when I was 3, have me participate in the defacing of pornographic pictures on the perpetrators bedroom wall. I just can't get my head around how they would think that was okay... in any way... even if nothing had happened....

Ah, well. So , in the midst of this, my mom was taken to the hospital and in ICU for a few days. And there was no emotion for that. Only sadness at the lack of emotion, if that makes sense. I haven't talked to her in about 2 years. And I really have no desire to now. A friend suggested I talk to her about the things that happened when I was 2, but I don't think that would be productive. I think she would pretend not to know and try to convince me that I was mistaken, as she has with so many other things I have brought up. So, I will just keep processing - and job hunting - and trying not to panic... ;-)

Hmm.... it's been a really long time. But... I'm still here.

I finally got a new laptop. Now I just need to get internet at home (I'm sitting in Starbucks at the moment, taking advantage of their free wi-fi).

Wow. What a wild winter - spring - into-summer it has been. Was told that I would really like the TV show "Saving Grace." So, being the "extremist" I can be... I got online and bought the whole series. Wow. At the end of the 1st season, I just laid on my couch and cried. There is so much in the main character that is familiar... including little revelations about God along the way.

Hmm... on July 5th, I passed the 2 year mark since I have seen my mom. Again, wow. She sent me a note in the mail a couple of months ago. She has made me her MPOA (Medical Power of Attorney). My therapist was shocked, wondered at my mom's sanity... :-) I was surprised. It never occurred to me that I could use that power badly - I would not abuse that position. Anyway, at the end of it, she wrote 2 simple lines. But let me back up. When I opened my mailbox and saw the letter, before I ever picked it up and looked at it, I knew it was from her. When I sat down and started oepning it, my hands were shaking and I started to cry. This is how much she can still twist me up after 2 years of no contact. Anyway, back to the 2 lines...

"I don't know why you have cut me out of your life, since you won't tell me. But I still love you and miss you."

Hmm... these 2 sentences really twisted me up. Still do, a little. To those who don't know her - or only know her 'public' face, it may seem innocuous enough. But that first sentence is an accusation that fairly drips with annoyance and sarcasm. There have been no calls or notes asking how I was doing or if there was anything she could do. Just this. So... on it goes. I did not respond to her. Just spent a few days (weeks) twisting and doubting myself and my choices....oy.

Well, today I was informed that I am being laid off and my last day is September 30th. I'm glad they gave me 60 days notice. Not as worried as the situation might suggest I should be. I have no savings or margin. But.... there is an expectant peace. As soon as I found out, I knew that the next step in this dance with God had arrived. Not sure what it's going to look like. I may move to California. (Hi, Tyler!) I may move to New York. I don't know. California is the highest likelihood from what I can see right now, but my vision is far from clear.

Not sure how often I'll be able to post. I was hitching a ride on a neighbors unsecured wi-fi (shhh) until this afternoon. He got smart and secured it. So, Starbucks or a local restaurant to use their free wi-fi.

Hmm... there has been so much I have learned these last few months, but I can't find the words right now. Maybe it's the setting. Ice clinking, blenders blending, jazz playing....

Update on status

Well, here's where things stand: My computer is messed up. I need a new one. I was hoping to do that with my tax refund, but didn't get much of a refund this year. So....until I have the money to buy a new computer, I will only be on the internet when I can get on at a friend's house. I will still check in from time to time and maybe even post now and again, but if you do not see a response for a while, know it is just because I haven't been able to log on. :-)

Not gone.....

Just wanted to let all know that I am not gone. I just have limited access to the internet until I can figure out why my web browsers keep crashing every time I try to use them. (I use a Mac, by the way, and the browers are Firefox and Safari.)

When I get this figured out, I will be back....but it has been 3 weeks and counting......

You have no right....

Hmmm..... this one has been brewing for a while. In essence, it is simply this foundational belief that I have no right to sympathy or comfort. Why? Because if someone hurts me, it is my own fault for being weak or stupid or niave...

This concept has controlled a lot of my interactions in the past in ways I wasn't aware of. It has only been the last couple of months - through therapy both in a professional setting and with a friend - that I have even been able to pin it down enough to put it into wards. To many of you, it may sound patently ridiculous. But I have realized that this is a concept that was trained into me from the very beginning.

I was talking to a friend about it a couple of months ago, right after it first came out in words in therapy. As I was talking, it was almost as if my mouth was saying things my conscious mind didn't know.... I said, "This concept that I don't have the right to feel pain and ask for help - sympathy - comfort - goes back to when I was 2 and my mother said...." And at that moment, my mind shut down like a steel door slamming shut and I realized that I had almost seen something I've been trying to get a handle on for a while - what, exactly, it was that happened when I was 2 1/2. My mind is not ready to let me see that, but what I did get was a sense that whatever it was, my mother was aware of it and told me to essentially get over it, it was not a big deal... it was somehow my fault.... And I can get no further with that at the moment.

But as I have thought about it, there are other incidents. I remember when was 3 I found this stuffed gray cat lying somewhere. My mom let me keep it, but made sure I knew how gross it was to take a used toy you found laying around. She washed it.... And I named it Graytor. And I took him with me everywhere. It was almost like having a pet. :-) My mom has a picture of me sitting on the curb outside my aunt's house in Denver reading a Mad Magazine and the cat tucked under my arm - I was 3. Fast forward a couple of years. Still toting this cat around. And it is time for me to start school. I remember mom warning me to leave the cat at home. Warning that if I took it to school, I would lose it or it would get stolen. Warning me how horrible I would feel if that happened. But I never went anywhere without that cat. So, to school we went. And at recess, playing on the playground - there was this huge stump. It was the size of a table - at least to us little 5 year olds. And I left my cat lying on that stump at the end of recess. And even now, I can't explain how I forgot about it. But I didn't realize that I had left it on the playground until I got home and it wasn't there. I begged mom to take me back to the school. She told me that there was no way it was still going to be there, but she consented to take me so that I could be sure. And sure enough, it was gone. I was devastated. And I'm not sure what made me feel worse: the fact that it was gone or the fact that it was my own careless stupidity that caused it to be gone. And there was no sympathy or comfort. Only the stark fact that she had warned me and I should have listened.

There are many little incidents.

When I was 4, I gave my piggy bank to the neighbor boy in exchange for some toy (can't remember what). My mom was very up set. She made the boy give it back and told me I was naive and easily taken advantage of and needed to smarten up. I was 4! (I didn't get my piggy bank back - she kept it.)

If I cried, I was spoiled. She used to say that when I would go and spend a few days with either of my grandparents, it would take her two weeks to "straighten me out" after they had "spoiled me."

When I was in trouble, I was sent to my room (after being whipped with a belt) and told that I had to stay there and think about what I had done and not to come out until I was prepared to tell mommy I was sorry for hurting her. This started when I was 2 years old.

In a letter that I came across a few months ago that she had written when I was about 5, she writes about me getting in trouble and that she gave me a whipping with a belt and sent me to my room. She then wrote that the person the letter was to should not worry as it didn't do any damage as I only shed a couple of small tears. Yeah. I learned early not to let them see me cry any more than I could help.

When I was 8, my grandmother died and when my mom caught me crying in bed one night, she asked me what I was crying about. I told her I missed grandma. She frowned and told me to get over it.

When I was 13, my favorite teacher accidentally killed himself. No sympthay. Why should I be upset, I didn't know him that well.....

So many times, growing up, someone would hurt me - and my mom's response was always to tell me that I must have provoked them or I just needed to toughen up...

Is it any wonder, when my cousin began sexually abusing me, that I didn't tell anyone? I still struggle with the concept that it was my fault for letting him do it...

I still struggle with the idea that I do not deserve any sympathy or help because whatever the damage is - whatever the reason for the pain - it was my own fault and I should just buck up and move on and take my consequences like a good little girl.

Hmm.... today marks one year since I have seen my mom. And the pain is still just as deep as it was then. And there is still some guilt at not seeing or talking to her. And yet, to go back to the place where she actively controls my life.....no.

I guess there is still a lot of confusion and pain here. And that should probably not be a surprise.

And you know....hmm.... forgiveness. That is an interesting topic for me - toward my mom, my dad... and toward my cousin, and all those others who sexually used me. I have thought about it and I really do not want any of them to go to hell. But I don't want to have to be around them, either. And I think that is one of the ways that the church is messed up in it's doctrine of forgive and forget. That is humanly impossible. And it is the height of stupid arrogance to tell someone who has been abused to forgive and forget - something they cannot possibly do (how do you forget?) and then tell them that unless they do, God will not forgive them and they will be in trouble with God. That is called a crazy making - telling someone they will be in trouble if they don't do what they cannot do.

Anyway, I think I have begun to just ramble, so .....

Just Get Over It...

Hmm... this may be a tough one to write. It may come out angry and fair warning, if you have been abused, there may be triggers. It's something that has sort of been forming in me the last couple of days. This is directed at family.... church family... biological family... and all those who would tell a survivor of childhood sexual abuse to "just get over it." Do you comprehend what it is you are asking?

Okay, I would ask you this. Would you go up to a war veteran who lost their legs in battle and tell them to "just get over it?"  Would you tell a woman who has just had a double mastectomy due to breast cancer to "just get over it?"  Would you go up to a father whose only son was murdered and tell him to "just get over it?" Some of you may, at this point, be getting a little uncomfortable or even annoyed - how dare I compare what I went through to that. Well, that is part of the point... how dare you make a judgment on what I went through without talking to me about it.

In all of the examples above, there is no "getting over it." There is only learning to live with it - healing enough that you can continue to live. Get over it? How? It is the same with childhood sexual abuse. I think one of the biggest things people miss about this issue, including many victims, is that if you are a victim/survivor of childhood sexual abuse, you have lost something - something that can never be regained.

What have we survivors lost?

Well, for starters , our childhood innocence. This is something that, for me, went away when I was 2 years old. That childlike innocence that allows you to trust the people around you not to hurt you is ripped away. And once it is gone, it cannot be restored. I can never regain that place where I didn't know betrayal and confusion. And how do you even put into words what it is to have NOT had that as a child? And how the HELL do you "just get over" that? My childhood was warped - twisted - dark - frightening - desperate - and I can't "just get over it." I didn't get to be just a little kid. The wounds from it can heal (and I am working on that) and I can learn to live with the scars that will forever remain (and I am working on that, too). But it is something that will always be a part of who I am. I can't get rid of it (I tried!) and I can't "just get over it."

What else have we lost? Well, our ability to trust - our ability to function normally. For me, it is pretty severe - more than I had ever allowed myself to see. Hmm... I am 46 years old and I have never had a boyfriend - never been on a date. And I am thinking about going to a chiropractor (a friend has recommended him and I have met him and I WANT to go). But I will need her to go with me because I am afraid. Even as I type this, tears are forming, because just thinking about letting this man - a DOCTOR, for crying out loud - touch me is causing mild panic - just from the thought of it, not the actual doing it. 

That is another thing. The panic - the fear. To feel - and walk through - the feelings of panic that rise up every time I go out the door. I have dealt with that for so long that I had gotten to the place where I thought it was normal and hardly noticed it anymore. But it is NOT normal to feel fear every time you leave your house. I have rarely let it stop me from going somewhere, but it is always there. To feel panic every time a man is nice to me is not normal. The ability to have a normal relationship is another thing that is lost. My friend and my therapist tell me I will be able to, eventually. We'll see....

And then there is the pain - the anger - that you are not allowed to feel, not allowed to show - so you stuff it down deep. And your ability to see yourself as normal - as valuable - as not "damaged goods" or "tainted" or "spoiled" or "ruined." The church places such a strong emphasis on being a virgin. So did my family, for that matter (ha!). How is a 7 year old girl supposed to cope with that information - that demand - when that is something that has already been taken away from her?

Part of the process of healing requires recognizing what was lost, where the damage is. It requires being allowed to acknowledge what was lost and being allowed to mourn that loss.

Hmm.... I am reaching the limit of what I can process right now, so this will have to do. But those of you in churches - and families - please, please, do NOT tell someone who has been sexually abused as a child (or as an adult, for that matter) to "just get over it." It is, quite literally, like driving a dagger into their heart, emotionally. It adds to the damage....