....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
  • Current Mood
    pensive deep in thought....

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

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.
  • Current Music
    beethoven dot com

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

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.
  • Current Music
    The trill of the fax machine

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

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.
  • Current Mood
    morose More than disappointed

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

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.)

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  • Current Music
    the hum of the printer

What I posted over at Abuse Survivor....


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.

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  • Current Mood
    uncomfortable slightly nervous

Veritas Feminae has moved....

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:


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

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.