Monday, June 27, 2011

6.27.2011 (pt. 2--a rant)

Two of my cousins (a pair of sisters) deleted and/or blocked me from contacting them on Facebook today. I keep telling myself this shouldn't bother me and to just breathe and let it go. And, except for the following, I might find that more easily done.

When these cousins were continually put down and labeled by my mother and sisters, I stood up for them and argued for tolerance.
When my mother and sisters criticized and tried to derail one of their weddings, I was the *only* one of my immediate family who didn't participate in that and who attended said wedding.
I have baby sat both of these women as well as the children of one of them without asking for anything in return.
When the older of the two was brutally attacked by her estranged husband, I was there arguing against the victim blaming that many family members engaged in even to the extent of being willing to take photos that they could use later to demonstrate her injuries.
I have, as I do with most people I have affection for, offered advice, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, for many years.

I am so hurt and angry over this. I cannot understand it.

I know my flaws pretty well. I may lack discretion, moderation, may speak without thinking or say the wrong thing. But, I know myself to be a good, loyal, person and I just cannot see how moving in the same direction as someone (my mother) who has denigrated, criticized publicly and made every attempt to take away from these people's happiness is justified.


Attending PSG for the second year was both familiar and new. When you drive in, the people working the gate are eager to greet "virgins" and have them come ring the bell, signaling to everyone in earshot that some newbies have arrived. I found that welcoming last year, in my usual self-conscious way. But, this year, I was truly welcomed home. Despite the change in venue and the reduced size of the campground, it had the same energy around every corner. Talking with Ella (who *was* the virgin this year), we both had noticed the positive energy that everyone we encountered seemed to give off. We camped in very close quarters, dealt with rain and mud and even the threat of tornadoes. None of that came close to overshadowing the benefit of connecting, really connecting with people who are now family. I'm tearing up a bit writing this but, these words don't go nearly far enough. Coming back to the "real world" this time was even harder than last year. To elaborate, we camped next to a family with adorable triplets, three of the sweetest, most charming kids I've met. Add that to the three adults of the family being true kindred spirits in every sense of the term. Our late night talks and chats over coffee each morning made this PSG for me. I miss these amazing souls. Last year felt like a journey toward understanding myself more, through solitude (often) and that walk with the goddess in the candlelit labyrinth. This year, I walked with her again but found it more supportive and confirming of things I was finding from connecting with others, through externalizing my conflicts and being supported that way and through discussing memorable dreams as well as just sharing laughter, food and time together. I don't have a ready, pithy conclusion about what I've taken away this year and, I think part of that is an internal resistance to letting the experience and connections fade. It's also partly that I'm once more thinking deeply about what I really want and what makes me happy. I can't articulate those thoughts yet. Maybe with some more meditation on them. That's it for now except that I just want to keep feeling that love I felt surrounding me there and send it further afield to you all.

Friday, June 17, 2011


Once, there was a little girl whose parents loved her very much. They loved her so much, in fact, that they worked very hard to protect her from all the things about her that were bad. Over and over they corrected those bad habits and punished her so that she would learn to only be the good version of herself.

By the time the girl reached twelve, her parents had made much progress with her. So much progress, in fact, that she was allowed to work outside of her home and, when going out of town, they felt very comfortable letting her stay home while they and her younger sisters went away for a weekend. Making sure to leave her with careful instructions and money to purchase food, away they went for a merry break, waving goodbye as they drove away.

Once alone, however, the girl began to remember stories she'd heard of things that could happen to children without their parents and her fear of the dark, previously quieted by the parents' warnings rushed back. All houses make noises and, as the sun sank lower in the sky, she became more and more aware of ones she'd never noticed before. Before evening could set in, she had formed a plan so that she could have some company for the night. Another family lived nearby with three little daughters who, although some years younger than her, were often quite friendly to the girl. She decided to invite the oldest of these girls to her home and, for the young neighbor's help with household chores, shared with her some of the money her parents had left her. The night passed quite pleasantly, with the two girls sharing food and watching movies.

By the time her parents had returned home, the girl had forgotten her fears and was looking forward to seeing her family again. As they brought in their luggage and remarked on how clean the home was, her parents' smiles faded, hearing the tale of what she had done with the money they entrusted her with. They knew that all of the badness they had worked so hard to remove from her character was making a reappearance and, quietly, it was decided that the girl's mother would discuss this with the girl alone.

When the time was right, and the girl's sweet younger sisters safely away, her mother spoke to her, to discover exactly what she had done while they were away. "What did you do," she asked, "to the neighbor child? Why did you need to give her the money we trusted you with?" The girl, frightened of both her bad nature resurfacing and her mother's angry disappointment, averred that she had done nothing but simply wished not to be alone for the time they were gone, a statement that was clearly not true and that her mother swept aside immediately, determined to root out the evil in her child. Again and again, she sought the details of her daughter's wrongdoing but was finally forced to unwillingly abandon her questions as the willful child turned to tears and silence.

She remained, however, watchful for further signs of wrongdoing until, with patience and effort, it became less and less necessary. For, with time, the girl became able to take over what her parents had begun. They congratulated themselves, then, on their success and were able to breathe much more easily.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011


Last week was pretty close to the week from hell. It felt like everything was happening at the same time to make me feel like utter shit. 1) Angie and the rest brought the munchkins to the city to go to the Magic House and, rather pointedly imo, didn't tell me until afterward when she posted a note on Facebook about it. 2) Major, major communication breakdown with a friend triggering all my abandonment fears. 3) The ex-husband called me at work out of the blue to ask if we could try to renew our friendship, triggering a whole host of *other* types of fears. I don't think a single day went by without major tears last week.

This week is better and a lot of my tension has ebbed away again. And, I do want to give myself some small pat on the back for putting myself first in the exhusband situation. It was difficult and there are still residual doubts about turning him away but the alternative was not a good possibility for me.

I also think I learned a bit more about what are hot buttons (for lack of a better term) for me and what I need when I'm feeling stressed and scared. I forget sometimes just how differently people (even people I trust and feel close to) react to stressful situations. Somehow, I feel as though I need to become far more comfortable with not having someone to catch me at those moments or provide reassurance.

As for the situation with the munchkins... It doesn't seem like there are many good options other than trying to maintain contact with them from a distance. I have some ideas for care packages I can send them periodically and I hope that they'll be able to at least respond to the notes I include with those. I hate that that's the best I can do but at least it'd be something.

PSG starts this Sunday and I need it. I may not get another post in before that but I'm sure there will be plenty to say after.

Monday, June 13, 2011


Happy Working Song

They make tiny cuts


Here and there
Chest and knees and scapula get marked
A map for them to follow with their
Scarlet hot instruments

They take exquisite care and inch
Your skin downward
Away from your ruby flesh

The hobgoblins sing as they flay their victims
Happy working songs
To cover the whimpers
Of the naked souls
On whom they toil.

Saturday, June 4, 2011


Someone suggested today, after hearing a story from my childhood that I haven't shared with anyone but a therapist and (maybe) my exhusband, that this may be a time when that pain could actually heal. And, I started this blog planning to share it but I'm still not sure. I feel the need to get it out, to express it but... I guess I need to process it more.

Life is okay, getting better in some ways, staying the same in others. In other words, the bio family stuff is the same except even quieter. I had what was an epic date last week and look forward to more time with someone I almost instantly clicked with, a kindred spirit. :) I have been working on meditating more and I keep making my focus what makes me happy and starting each day with acceptance of where I am and being present as much as I can in each moment.

I'm ready for PSG. More so each day.