The journey begins ... or continues ... articulating the rollercoaster that is my life

[mumstheword]

So I've gotten into the study. I realized it was Nezza and my judgement about myself academic self blocking me and was able to by pass the block. Yay! :-)
I quite like the liberal humanism approach. It's pro human, pro individual, kind of "pure", very reverent of "art", a certain kind of art anyway. It does resonate with me. I'm kind of into "universal truth" and relating human to human without other agendas coming into It.
It seems to me to be deeply concerned with inner experience and our relationships with each other and the natural world and expressing something profound about all that as well as a emphasis on what's common to humans in general. I quite like it.

 

[mumstheword]

An emphasis.

 

[mumstheword]

My winged self takes form
She is bounty, gracious, not of-this-world
Opening doors of perception
Leading to a higher conception,

of "truth"

She guides me, delights me, shows me light
While all around is dappled hues and contours and constriction

I contemplate constructing myself

anew

Can I fly without melting these wings of light
Seen by inner eyes?

I want to glide

and try
Another door,

more of what it is to be

Me,

Truly truly truly myself

And while I fly
deeper into life and what it is to be

Human

I share this embodiment and remain married to this idea of "light" and "life" and "freedom" and "actualization" and "imagination"
And "My" and "life"
And "Soul" and "redemption"

 

[mumstheword]

I just wrote that in honour of "Liberal Humanism" and "Romanticism" ... Of which I am quite taken with :-)

 

[mumstheword]

Not suffering terribly today :-) Yay. I think it is because I honoured some of my "parts". I feel more secure in the knowledge that my fractured self can draw on parts that are not so terribly wounded.
Compartmentalizing is working for me.
I may be dissociated but I am not spending so much time dissociating, if that makes sense.
I continue to get the benefit of having a friend, and making new friends here.
I am out of a blustery, bitterly cold gale-force winds, sleety, snowy storm, for now, and enjoying a warm fire, hot cuppa and companionship.
Last night I wailed and keened and then breathed and drew. My mother-self mostly hides and cries and rocks and grieves in her cave.
Having said that, I spoke to my second born son yesterday, he even rang me back, progress!
It is getting closer to my 3rd son's birthday and there is lots of grief there. Lots and lots of grief, shame, guilt and hurt.

My firstborn turns 27 in just over a week. We are ok. We have had healing and he is growing into a very fine and deeply sensitive, wise, resilient, free and strong man. He will be going down south festivaling and spending time with his brother. The one who's relationship and distance from me hurts me so.
I am learning to embrace this fragile, tentative, emotionally crippled mother-self that is a very big part of who I am.

My pain-body oozes empathy, victimhood, shame, grief and growing resilience.

This mother-self she is strong but so wounded. Dragging, bloodied, bleeding broken limbs of feeling-self. Don't whip me and beat me and crusify me again! I am love! I am the giving one who had to receive to survive and would have died but wanted to thrive and be alive for you, my children!
Feel my love and tenderness! My willingness to give you more, for my love overflows but it's in tears when you turn away and say my.mum's crazy, not good, not who she says she is, when.you believe the liar and forsake the one who birthed you in a hut, or a bus, in a car park, a tumble down bush house, a cold bath tub, a camp site, by a fire under a tree. That was me. Too young and broken already but open to bring you through and care and tend and buffer you with my broken self that was merely a babe birthing babes from a tender, bruised and battered sense of self.

 

[mumstheword]

Tears again, the wound has been reopened.

 

[mumstheword]

Struggling to get going today. Everything feels overwhelming. Caring for others feels overwhelming. Being in this place feels overwhelming. I want out but there's no out. Was planning to start a new yoga class today, here, in this town I struggle to live in. I'm proud of myself for the intent but ... not this week. Not gonna happen. Just getting lunch down to my girl at school today and catching up with my 4th born son, my 19 yr, old feels like enough of an ordeal right now.

He stormed off on me last Wednesday (Wednesday is the day we regularly catch up, I shout him lunch at a local cafe and walk him home, sometimes we go down to the creek now, I am making baby steps) I texted him after the storm off, no idea what to expect now, he didn't reply, it was triggery.

I am such a beat down dog with my family, not everyone, but the abusers and my young adult children who are complicit in the abuse on account of siding with him (I never asked for sides, just got too ill to function with all the abuse coming at me for 37+ years) who basically abused me and rejected me for fear of incurring daddy rage and rejection, I'm surmising. I forgive them but am left in a state of when, and from what angle, is the next emotional, psychological blow going to come from.

 

[mumstheword]

I'm feeling so worthless and pathetic right now.
Im just wanting to minimize everything I've been through just to justify my worthlessness.
I don't want to talk about all the crap I've lived through because, well, I'm worthless.
Just a crazy weak, throw away person. I should be disposable, that's how I'm feeling.
I know this stuff is cognitive distortion, but it feels real. I don't deserve anyone's time.
I'm stupid for having this thing. I'm stupid I got caught up having children. What a stupid, useless person for being a suffering PTSD suffering teenager who let's herself get knocked up 7 TiMES? With a f*cked up abusive sociopathic drug addict. Who does that? Why would you bring children into this world you messed up sick child-woman?
I know this is me being vile to myself but I need to get this cruelty out so I can see how I treat myself. So much shame.
Every achievement feels like nothing worthy of anything.
How have I managed to keep breathing and taking up space? But my family don't deserve the pain they would have to carry if I died. I'm not worthy of having all that attention, suffering on my account, people having to clean up my body, bury me or organize a funeral.
Yes, this is cognitive distortion. This is core pain from all my life treatment. No wonder I stayed with an abusive person for 20+ years. No wonder I ministered to so many homeless people and mentally ill people. I don't deserve support, but everyone else deserves my consideration. No wonder I don't even get a callback when I finally make efforts to get a T that may have the credentials to be able to help me address some of this horrible cruel abusive trauma and neglect.
I have a partner now who adores me, why do I feel like I am worth nothing?

 

[mumstheword]

So after that big sookfest last night I am back on top.:-) Had a really good day.
NIA and choir.
Lovely people.
Made a couple of new older lady friends.
Bought fresh rocket, tomatoes and cucumbers from the local evening street market in L.

The T rang me back but I was crossing the road to the bus stop with my arms full of salad produce and couldn't get to the phone in time. Rang back but got her answering service again.

Thinking I should keep writing about early and more trauma but something is stopping me.

Been thinking about that very raw, very wounded depressed part that surfaced last night. It's tucked away again.

I got in touch with what a good, kind and creative soul I am today.
Some of me is anyway.

The shame part is stubborn and clings to life and consciousness. But the scars that have grown over it are empathy, compassion, creativity and humility.

Underneath there is still infection though. A resistant-to-healing strain of putrid self-judgement, and contempt for me.
It's this vileness that tells me I have deserved all the crappy treatment. That I must be horrid, disgusting and a sub-standard semi-human because otherwise people wouldn't have treated me the way they have.

Child, teen and child-mother-woman parts that are filled with cringeing, submission, and self-depreciation.

It took so many years to make that so I guess it will take time to shift it.

I kind of got in touch with the life-long depressive part that gets buried and repressed and wants to be hurt and sick and validate itself. By validating itself, "I" must be continually invalidated.

It is powerful and destructive but mostly repressed and denied.
Powerfully debilitating.
It is connected to my witch part and my Linetta Ray part but is not them either, not either of them.
I feel like, if I let her out, I will cry and wail and scream and keen and throw myself around and fall in a heap and never get up again. That I will be a complete and utter basket case. So I
must keep her at bay. I cannot accept her, because unacceptability is her nature. She is the utterly demoralized me.
She believes people want to hurt her. That she is an outcast. That it is right that she be rejected, because she is too awful to be tolerated. That's why I must keep her tucked very far inside, because her presence is too sick and diseased and filthy and must be quarantined from the rest of society. If they find out I am her, we will all be left on the human refuse pile to rot and die. By we, I mean me.
This part hurts very badly, and has been created by me being hurt very badly over much of my life.

 

[mumstheword]

I am still struggling with the demoralization stuff. Such bleak feelings. Depression I guess. Grief. And that stupid shame that keeps plaguing me, day in and day out. I compartmentalize it, put it aside, don't know how to deal with it. There's a hopelessness I'm noticing about myself and it's not something I want to own at all.There's a lot missing for me. I feel very lacking. It's the self worth stuff. I just put myself very low on the scale of things but I desperately want to be somewhere different. Not grieving. Not hopelessly deficient. Not so far beneath that I feel I deserve nothing like "normal" people. Even other sufferers. They have jobs or have had better jobs. I feel that society and my family have crushed me. I will keep trying to build myself up and plug away regardless, but I think it must be a sort of life-long discouragement and depression.I want to fight it though.

 

[NatBird]

I see a lot of beauty, courage, vulnerability, turning towards yourself, compassion.

I see all the bold and brilliant things you are doing: relating with children and partner and others and studying and going out into the world.

I also hear that it's hard going at times too. I'm here witnessing your change, your shape-shifting and sending much admiration, appreciation and support.

I am very inspired and encouraged your words, process and presence here.

Brrd

 

[mumstheword]

That is so lovely :) Brrd. It's a mutual admiration we have going on here.:)

I see a lot of beauty, courage, vulnerability, turning towards yourself, compassion

I see all the bo...

The shame has lifted a bit. Facing it head on has enabled me to loosen its grasp on me.
There is a lot of good in me, I know that now.
I just finished a drawing that I'm very happy with. Picking up the drawing again, after so many years away from it, has been a great move. A boon to my sense of well-being and self esteem.

My partner continues to be very, very loving and affirming of me, as do my two youngest children.

People like me.

The choir was a revelation like that. I joined in 2008 and was very squashed flat at the time. It was amazing though, one day I turned up, I had hitched in from N I think, and Big R started cheering that I had come, and then the whole room full of people cheered me and I thought, wow, I can't be all that bad, these people like me!

My singing was something even A couldn't help acknowledge me for. It is a very hard won skill and a joy to me. I was almost a mute when I got the opportunity to sing in his band. I get now, that it was a ploy, a calculated move to keep me hooked, and it worked. It was so utterly excruciating though!

For years it was hellish to get up in front of people and bare my soul and sing in front of them. I am sorry to all of you who had to witness my excruciation! I had to push through though. Something in me just kept on going, I needed the self esteem and being seen so badly!

Now it is one of my survival skills, my way to keep madness at bay, my ticket to acceptance, my way to break out of depression, fear and self-negation.

I hope to front a band some day in the not-too-distant-future. It will be (I hope) an syncretic blend of blues, folk, gospel, jazz, funk, dub, reggae, groove, and my own "sharmanic" freestyle trance sounds. Oh and a bit of rap and dub poetry thrown in.

Redemption music

I give it to Nyah and Lynetta Ray, as it is them, my beautiful inner people, who own it.
I think it was them all along, who gave me the strength and fortitude and impetus to withstand it all. The music made everything make sense and have a point.

The music and the children.