Debusz... very personal stuff about me

Ok...

2005-08-11T16:29:34Z

....I'm giving up on commenting on Beth's stuff (at least for now -- her words need no embellishment), and I will just post a link. Suffice it to say that, if I have taken the time to put the link here, that I find it important enough to share with you (my readers).

This most recent find (and yes, I'm working my way backwards) is about the idea of defensive solitude and self-reliance, and how they can become a prison of one's own making (and yes, this one *hits home* with me, too).

the lesson of the potato bugs and the snails

Once again, I feel like someone's crawled inside my head, and described the contents....

2005-08-11T16:06:13Z

Once again, Beth's writings kick my ass (metaphorically speaking), because somehow, she managed to crawl into *my* head, and with her writing, describe so eloquently its contents.

If you read this entry, you will see a picture of what it was like growing up in *my* house... she uses a very clear metaphor -- and it is as though she had walked into *my* house, and described the well-crafted hoax she saw there.

My parents were the artificial fish, suspended in a mock tank, looking like parents to most outsiders. Only those who cared to look closely could discern the truth behind the facade, could see that it was all an elaborate sham.

Yeah... that about sums it up.

I grew up convinced that I was fake, that my family was fake, and that I had to *search* long and hard for things that were real, to dig them up like one digs up potatoes or onions at harvest. People outside my family would comment on how *nice* my Mom was, and how *funny* my Dad was.... but all they got was the pretty mask. I wanted so often to scream that it was all a lie, and that it wasn't *really* like that.

But one of the BIG rules in a house like mine was "don't talk about it."

For years, I tried HARD to tear that "pretty" mask off.... and finally one day, it did come off. I hated bring "pretty", I hated being "cute" -- I wanted to be REAL, to be taken seriously. I wanted desperately to be valued for who I really was, not for the pretty facade I could make people believe in.

I left that house a long time ago, and have been working on issues from it ever since. And, as an adult, I can now see how my view of myself now is made up of so many pieces of long ago. Things are better as an adult, and I can go back and piece together the parts I value, and toss the parts I don't want. But it's been a long, slow process, and it is by no means over.

Nevertheless, I'm still floored when I read something written by someone I've never met, that describes to a "t" what I've been through. It still amazes the part of me that thought I was so alone.... because I'm not.

Beth's Angels & Devils were mine as well....

2005-08-10T22:59:29Z

Wow.... I just read another one of Michael's posts of Beth's writings.... it is here

And I have to post my response here, because I sat and read the entry... then sat here for a few minutes.... stunned. All of the hatred and vitriol... all of the warring and violent tempers, and jabs of vicious cruelness and malice.... and manipulation... THAT was *my* childhood. Those were *MY* parents.

But for a few minor details, *she* could have grown up in *MY* house.

Damn.... I even stopped breathing for a little while there.... it *really* hit close to home.

My response to the post was this:

*sits and stares at the screen, speechless....*

But for the reversal of the drinking roles (and the fact that my abuser was my grandfather & others, & not my father).... Beth grew up in the same house *I* did. The way her parents related to each other (or didn't).... how they lashed out *at* each other..... how they used the children *against* each other.... many of these scenarios are *very much* the same as ones in *my* house (Small differences: I watched my father chase my mom with a knife, instead of bashing her head on a wall.... and it was *me* that he choked & kicked & punched, & broke furniture over).

wow..... just.... wow.

No *wonder* I resonate so clearly with her words.... that was *hard* to read, if only because of the pictures that came flashing back into my mind.

Thank you for posting it.... wow.

I know I've done a LOT of work on this stuff (over 23 years of counselling, therapy and group meetings), and sometimes I lose sight of just *where* I've come from. Sometimes I forget *what* I was up against -- and what I still battle in my own head ("You're *so* stupid, Debbie -- you must have shit for brains! Don't believe me? Go look in the mirror -- your eyes are brown -- just like your goddamn mother's!!")

And I berate myself for not being "better" already.... for not being "over it." Um....maybe, just maybe, I should cut myself some slack.

I'm still alive. I'm still here. I know what joy is, and I *know* it will come back when it goes away. I work and I support myself. I am pretty much functional (most days). And most of my addictions are either under control or non-self-harming (unless you count lack of sleep from too much Harry Potter).

I guess I have a lot to be grateful for -- and a lot to give *myself* credit for.

Damn... just one more thing to add to the fire....

2005-07-06T17:24:27Z

The friend I thought would be "here" when I came to Seattle, and is gone? I've just realized that this person has UnFriended me here on LJ, and is probably not reading any of my emails or listening to any voicemails I've left on their home # (that would explain why they've not been calling me back or emailing me).

[And the *one* really nasty comment that someone else left (about me) to that person was NOT TRUE, and THAT "FRIEND" knows it -- they're just not willing to admit it to that person.]

(I have to say, right here, that I feel really stupid that this sounds a LOT like a soap opera. :-P )

I know.....I really ought to just let this one roll off my back. But it HURTS. I thought a friendship of 10+ years MEANT more than that -- I know it did, to me.

I guess, to them, it didn't.

The State of the Nat.... er... Inside Of My Head....

2005-07-06T00:41:39Z

Well, I've recently posted a LOOONGISH entry over @ Loba - so if you're interested, go take a gander.

This post is just to give a glimpse into what's been driving the "gerbils on the exercise wheel" in my head recently (and yes, I know you all think I'm a tad bit squirrelly sometimes... well, now you know.)

:-)

Below are two excerpts from a letter I recently wrote but did not send (let's face it - my ranting at someone NEVER solves anything -- so it's better to just rant into a journal).

These excerpts pretty much tell why I've been a bit off-kilter for a little while (if you can piece together a picture from them). The move to Seattle (and all it entails) has been a LARGE change for me. So large, in fact, that I really didn't realize the magnitude of all of the *little* changes that would take place because of it. With a lot of confuision and miscommunication in several areas of my life recently (and with some friends becoming distanced), I thought it best to put up some stuff I felt passionately about when I wrote it -- and not just a blurb about "what I'm doing right now."

My head, and welcome to it.

(FWIW: I AM coping, and solving the relationship riddles in my life. I have found support in several areas, and with some really good friends - to whom I'm eternally grateful. I guess I really didn't have a clue, though, about how big the rug was when I pulled it out from under myself in May... guess I'm "getting it" now. Yes, eventually, we ALL learn how to cope.)

Enjoy it, or hit your Back button - it's your choice.

****
If you could see the relationships I've had in Michigan with my close friends....you would see people who do things for each other (and each other's families and children) because they CARE (these are the same friends that surprised me anonymously with $ for my trip AND paid my overdue water bill, and fed me when I was unemployed, whose kids I've cared for while they've attended parent's and spouse's funerals - people who I've prayed and cried over when they've had cancer and brain aneurisms, and people who I've sat in hospice with and cried with (and said goodbye to), sat with them just to BE with them (and our other friends) as they died).

These people - my "friends" - are people who love each other, and LOVE SIMPLY -- they " I love you" because they CARE - NOT because those are just "pretty words" used to "manipulate" a situation. THAT'S what I see as the basis of *any* friendship (and a relationship has to start with that) -- and THAT is where I come from when I share, and care. It's at the core of who I am (it always has been), and I don't think I could do any less.

*****
But there's a difference here with me -- it doesn't excuse the behavior, but maybe it'll help you understand better:

ALL of my support structures are GONE (and yes, I *did* rip them out myself -- I'll fully cop to that). Every last one of those supports, for me, is BACK IN MICHIGAN. I no longer have a Monday Night meeting full of people who know me inside and out, to whom I can turn and talk with on a regular basis (the nearest mtg I've found is somewhere in Laurelhurst, and I GOT LOST there in November when I had a car - heaven help me trying to get there on a BUS! - still, I WILL keep trying to get there). I only just last weekend made it over to the Unity Church (another support for me) -- but I have to start over with them as well - no familiarity, no choir, and I'm not teaching Sunday School there. And "instant intimacy" isn't healthy anywhere - not in support structures and not in relationships - so I can't really expect any good support from either of these places for a little while yet.

Many of my friends here have been a little bit miffed that I spent my first 4 days with new friends/loves - so there are only a few to whom I can turn for support - and they're in Bellevue and Redmond most days (a long commute on the bus). I have NO choir ("pent-up energy outlet") for me to sing with on Thursdays anymore. And I don't even have my patients at the Pharmacy - I gave up being a respected health care "professional" (even though I was a tech, I had an important role, and I really felt like I did good there). I'm over 3,000 miles from nearly everyone I know, and the landscape I'm familiar with. I'm living out of a suitcase in someone else's house, and I MISS my books and paintings ("friends" on paper). I'm overwhelmed by the city and the vast tidalwave of PEOPLE (and I want to just go out and see a COW -- JUST ONE.). It's a CHORE to go ANYWHERE -- I miss my car!! And my best friend of 15 years, Jim, is too far away to come and "snuggle" when I need it -- or when he needs it. And that's a HARD one to give up - we've been through 2 dogs and 2 cats together.

Nearly EVERY area of my life that gave me strength, support or personal pride is either still in Michigan, or in a budding infancy here in WA. And there are several areas here in WA that I'm finding difficult to cope with. And the ONE person I have the MOST history with here, who had been telling me since I first started coming out here in 1999 that "Yes - don't worry - we're your friends, and we'll love and support you, and help you when you get out here..." -- well, YOU know what happened with that - a 10 year relationship went *poof*. That SHOOK me to my CORE: If that could happen with this person (and we'd shared a LOT of stuff and been really tight) - what ELSE could happen with the other people out here who've SAID they are my friends??? My innate trust levels (with EVERYTHING) were really shaken by that.

So, please forgive my human failings.... I'm doing the best that *I* can - in a difficult and often overwhelming situation. I think I can say that, if you were in my shoes, you'd probably be having a difficult time, too. So, perhaps you can understand why *I* have been a little needy lately.

It's been a while, I know....

2005-05-06T05:17:03Z

And since I usually leave the big, heavy stuff for here, I thought I'd check in.

Some changes are coming up in my life, I think. Mostly good ones (some very happy news, on one front). And I've been thinking about what those changes will mean. I've been spending a good deal of time with Jim lately, too.... because one of those changes may mean that he and I will no longer be close enough to see each other every day. (Even if we still talk on the phone -- it's been over 14 years since I was "alone"..... and it's a scary prospect sometimes.)

That final decision isn't made yet -- and will *not* be made until after Memorial Day, I think. But I know how I'm leaning, and I know what it may cost, in terms of loss. I would *like* to say I know what I will gain -- but I really don't know. And I want to keep my expectations low, to avoid disappointment. But I also want to affirm that the highest and best good is what I want from the situation -- so there's conflict, and conundrum.

I apologize for being so damn evasive and non-descriptive. I know I'll be okay - I always am. (Hells, I've made it just fine through more than a dozen countries w/a handful of different languages ALONE, as well as driving there, and even getting amoebic dystentery in a socialist country -- what the fuck do I have to fear from a friendly city in my own country??)

Perhaps it is true, perhaps I fear success. Perhaps I fear dreams - because they can fail, and it *hurts* when a dream has to die. Perhaps I fear that this is where I *know* I will find out what I'm here to do. And perhaps "just settling for" has become such a familiar place, that the beckoning of a positive unknown is less preferable than a miserable familiarity. Perhaps I am just too damn scared of moving once again (old scars run deep -- and take a long time to heal.)

And yeah, I KNOW I'll be all right -- it's just unsettling right now. And when I get pensive like this, the wheels in my head start to turn, and the self-analysis begins. And MANY thoughts and feelings I hold deep inside are laid bare for me to examine. And I'm always the one who's pinned to the dissecting board.

Yes, I *will* dive headlong into this future of mine, like I *always* do, and I will find my way, if I have to put my intuition out like a hand in the dark and "feel" my way through it. But I am tired of walking this road alone. And the question that always responds (from the back of my brain): If you *really* wanted to find someone to walk with, you *would* have done so. Because you have *not* drawn that into your life, perhaps it is because you do not want it.

I don't think that's true, but I'm afraid that time is proving me wrong. At this point I don't know.

I keep flashing back to an event from February or March -- I'd inadvertently called someone (my "ass" did the dialing), and that person heard me singing along to a song on the radio, while driving my car. They correctly identified the artist (Whitesnake).... and I'd *so* wanted to respond back, and let them know, "You know, there's a REASON I sing this song...."

Here I go again, on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known.
Like a drifter, I was born to walk alone.
And I've made up my mind;
I'm not wastin' no more time.

I know I'm a damn fine companion, a good lover, and a compassionate friend. And -- really -- I ought to be satisfied with my own company. But sometimes it's not enough. And, as much as I love Jim (and as much as I treasure the history we have together -- which is really what counts), it's just *not* there.

And my fear is that "it" never will be -- not with anyone. (Current sweeties aside - only time can tell on that front - but I'm afraid that "I am too much to invest in..." - and really, their plates are full as it is.)

I don't know if I have the fortitude to hash out another 5 - 10 - 15 years with someone like that (going from unhealthy to healthy). Cultivating that careful balance between needing and wanting (yet maintaining your own wholeness and personhood), letting someone become as much a part of your life as your own limbs, that's a huge risk -- one that I really want, and yet one that I fear.

And because it's not been happening since he and I "broke up" in 1998 -- I am left to ponder the question. Perhaps it is this: Am I brave enough to let someone get *that* close to me again? Even with the wonderful sweethearts I've had, and have now -- I don't know.

Maybe my task, then, is to become comfortable with the fear, and accept it.

(*wry grin* And that's coming from She Who Pokes Holes In Others' Walls With A Stick. A damn hypocrite, that's what I am -- afraid to take a risk, when I encourage others to do so, and I laud its benefits. So now you see my soft underbelly: even with all my lovely platitudes, I feel cowardly, too. And I have a hard time accepting it.)

*sighs* I keep hearing that Fear is a Master Teacher. So, maybe I should just shut up and learn whatever it is I'm supposed to learn, whether I like it or not.

I don't know; only time will tell. Courage is facing your fears, and walking through the fire anyway. I've been through the flames enough times now that I know the path. I'm just not satisfied with the solitary company.

More later. It's time for me to sleep. *laughs* And as many times as I say it, perhaps I should practice what I quote (at least a little more):

"...Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness; beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself...."

What I posted over at Abuse Survivor....

2005-03-17T04:18:02Z

CAUTION:

Be forewarned: This is *ugly* stuff, folks. DO NOT READ THIS if you are not prepared for stark raving truth. Or if your own issues of being abused/molested/hurt are triggered easily. I don't want others to *hurt* because of my writing this -- I want it to *help* -- please don't put yorself in a bad position, just to read my stuff.

Deb (loba) wrote in abusesurvivor,
@ 2005-03-14 21:04:00

Current mood: mostly okay, but TIRED

First post in here about my stuff... a little scared, but okay.
Well folks, I knew I'd eventually have to start telling my story (stories?) -- scared as I am of walking back into those memories. Today was a real PAIN (I had a very vivid flashback at work, with nowhere to really vent it, except through writing, and a good cry on the way home). And I got in touch with some really deeply-held stuff (it's amazing how, when someone close pushes your buttons, the really scarey shit comes out). It's not written well, as it pretty much came as stream-of-consciousness. But I'm sure you'll get the jist of it. And I'll have backstory afterward, for perspective. And I do welcome comments/support.

Please, if you are triggered easily, be careful about reading this.

******************
2:30 p.m. 3/14/05 Have just walked head-on into a very large flashback. Am feeling *very* small right now, and *very* vulnerable....

This is what The Child Inside feels NOW (Just typing what my Little Second-Grader inside is saying that she feels right now -- what comes when I let my fingers go, and she talks -- in italics):

I feel *very* small right now, and frozen -- not able to defend myself, or I'll get hurt worse. I feel *very* vulnerable.... Want to run, to leave this body RIGHT NOW because IT HURTS emotionally/psychically). Don't want to be hurt by That Boy/Those Boys. I didn't do anything to deserve this -- WHY do *I* have to be the one to "play nice"...? THEY hurt ME! They stuck sticks in me, and made me take my pants down, and said they'd beat me up!! THEY HURT ME!! (AND YOU DIDN'T BELIEVE ME, MOMMY!!) I don't WANT to be made to do something nice for someone who's hurt me!!! Am supposed to "be nice and like it" -- to play nice with the one(s) that hurt me, and *try* to be their friend? WHY?? Nevermind why, they say, just DO IT. And I DON'T. WANT. TO. But I HAVE TO/ I MUST, and IT HURTS. (Am being FORCED to seek their pardon for something THEY did to ME).

(Physical feelings: Am feeling all of this, RIGHT NOW... my heart is beating SO FAST AND HEAVY, it feels like it's gonna pound out of my chest, and that everyone around me can HEAR it. My face is red -- I can feel it, and both of my hands are shaking. I'm trying to file things, but the paper keeps flapping in my hands, and I keep dropping it. I keep holding my breath (like I used to as a child), and then remembering that I'm doing that, gasping for air. My stomach is upset, and my neck and shoulders are cramped terribly. My back hurts in three different spots. And my rear end *HURTS*.)

I want to sit and cry right now. But much more than that, I just want to GO. I *don't* want to have to cry any more. AT ALL. I want to do something ELSE that will make the hurt GO AWAY. I DON'T WANT TO HURT LIKE THIS ANYMORE.

I WANT TO RUN AND RUN, AND NOT COME BACK -- EVER. I don't want to talk, because no-one understands when I do. I just want to be understood (I'm too scared to want to be loved -- that's too big a risk right now). I just want to be understood, and accepted as me -- like my doggie understands me. That's why people are bad -- they don't understand me, and they *hurt* me -- They think it's FUN to hurt me. And I'm supposed to just sit there (lie there) and *let* them do it, and try to *ignore* it... that's what Mommy and Daddy said. That if I come home crying, it's my *own* fault. Well, I want to go away, run away to a place where this DOESN'T HAPPEN. EVER.

I WANT TO RUN NOW, AND NOT COME BACK. I just want to be ALONE, with no-one else around, forever. Just me and the woods and the animals, who don't hurt others without a reason, and are at least semi-predictable. Not like humans are. *Humans HURT*. Don't want to be around humans anymore. Want to run away and never come back -- just go live in the woods with my dog. I can trust my doggie to be honest with me, and to not lash out without a good reason (like pain or fear). I can tell when my dog is in pain, or is afraid, so I know what to do, and that's okay. I CAN'T DO THAT WITH PEOPLE, AND THEY KEEP TELLING ME TO TRY HARDER. THAT DOESN'T WORK. People hurt too much. That's why I want to Just Go Away.

PEOPLE HURT TOO MUCH. AND I. WANT. OUT.

As an adult, I *know* that this stuff is being triggered, probably because of a relationship I have with Someone (not sure why, but he seems to be an incredible catalyst for a lot of this (unintentionally -- he'd NEVER do it on purpose); some things he's said hit buttons I barely KNEW were there). All of this emotional intensity is dredging stuff up -- and it's VERY SCAREY. And I am sitting RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FEAR, and watching it watch ME. SCARED AS HELL -- and full of feelings of inadequacy, stupidity, betrayal and PAIN. And of not being able to (told NOT to) defend myself/stand up for myself/set boundaries to keep myself safe.

All the good stuff I've tried to build as an adult is really being *BATTERED* right now.

This is REALLY HARD, especailly since I'm so scared and I don't have anyone around right now I trust, to go and ask for help with, about this. If I go to the bathroom,and cry, I *won't* come out.

This is really scarey, and I keep holding my breath. It was as though I could close my eyes, and be back *there* right now, with my Mom telling me I had to "make up" with the "nice" neighborhood boys, and "play nice" -- when it was THEY that hurt ME -- THEY molested ME, not the other way around. How sick and twisted that all was!! And how convoluted and backwards has it made my sense of self, and of being able to protect myself, and set boundaries!! It taught me THROUGH EXPERIENCE that I was (am?) supposed to lie down and be a doormat for anyone and everyone. And that *THAT* was only way I'd have any friends. BULLSHIT!

It clouds my thinking, and makes me do things I'm scared of -- I want to cut and watch myself bleed, so it will STOP. I want to drink it away, smoke it away, drug it away -- SOMETHING TO MAKE IT STOP!! This pain makes me abandon myself, and RUN. That's the only thing that I can hear -- JUST RUN.

Only, I'm still here... this one time, I *didn't* run. This time I *SAT* with it. Terrified as Hell, but I'm STILL HERE. I'm still just sitting with it. I didn't dissociate, even though I wanted to SO BADLY -- I'm STILL HERE. I hold that Little Girl's hand, even as she is me, and we are SCARED. I couldn't do anything more but be here. But I've stayed. And it still really HURTS, but it *is* a little less -- a tiny bit less. And I'm breathing again. And I'm not so sure I want to bleed right now.

I wonder how many more times I'm gonna have to do this, before these fucking deep wounds are healed? And do I really have the courage/strength/fortitude/sheer dumb luck to stick it out? To NOT cut, or smoke, or drink, or dissociate (leave my body), or do something else that's self-destructive. Because I REALLY wanted to hurt myself just then (the urge was really strong, but I DIDN'T do it). It was the *only* thing, for a long time, that made the pain in my head go away.

For now, I'm NOT doing that, though. And just for right now, I am grateful for that tiny piece of sanity.

************

Okay. It's evening now, and I'm feeling quite a bit better. Walking through that shit was HARD, but I think I've come out okay. I *did* have a good cry on the way home (1/2 hour drive), and confronted some other issues that I need to address, and boundaries I need to set. And I went to my Twelve Step Meeting (not for substances, but for children who grew up in crazy situations), so I was able to share/vent there. I'm still not back to "good" yet, but am "okay" for right now. And "okay" is a damn sight better than the alternative.

Re: Backstory: I was molested by three neighborhood boys during the summer between my First and Second Grade years. They threatedned to beat me up, made me pull down my pants, and stuck sticks inside me. When I ran home and tried to tell my mother, she "misunderstood" me, and thought I'd caused a fight with said boys, and called their mothers, had them come over, and "made me apologize" to them, and "play nice" with them. (I learned at an early age that I am only here to be used & abused by others -- and have spent more than half my life working *hard* to unlearn it.)

I also have incest and rape as parts of my story, but those are for another time. Today has been *exhausting* (and it's not over yet -- a scary/hard(?) phone call to make -- must trust in my own heart) and I stink of FEAR. I want to shower, but strangely enough, am dreading getting naked. Like I'm surprised at *that.* Some things take a LONG time to heal, even when you work hard at them. *wry grin* But it *is* getting better.

Thank you for letting me share.

Veritas Feminae has moved....

2004-10-02T01:35:24Z

I got the chance to try out another space for journalling, so I thought I'd give it a try in a totally anonymous way (Now that you know, it's not so anonymous anymore, but oh well.).

You can visit Veritas Feminae (A Soul Map) at:

http://veritasfeminae.journalspace.com

CAUTION: Be forewarned that the content is brutally honest, and may trigger some people. But hells, if you've gotten this far, then you probably already know that.

First Post

2003-09-22T20:22:33Z

This is my first post here.... away from my main place, and my rants page. This is where I can be me, and bare it all, and write what really needs to be said. Stark, personal, and unexpurgated; this is where I can say things I am afraid to say elsewhere.

Here goes.