My Mothers

I know that I’ve written about some of the healing work I have been doing for some time on the blog about My Fathers, a special group of characters from literature, film, and television. I wrote and posted about some in particular last year and still have some more that I was to post about this year.

What really shocked me last year was to discover that unconsciously there were several mothers that I had sort of adopted over many years.

Suffice it to say that I do have terror about my attachments to women and might still have them for the rest  of my life. It really got going two and a half years ago when I met my advocate person at the shelter, who I firmly and stubbornly attached to from our first meeting as my mother. Terror is the most accurate word to describe how that feels. My love and attachment for her comes from a very small self inside us. It feels very much like being a baby, and yet at the same time I try very hard to be a reasoning rational adult at the same time when interacting with her. It is hard.

I know that I have written about that before on the blog, and probably will some more as I work on this issue; attaching to real women as a mother figure after surviving mother-daughter sexual abuse.

Actually the first one was a mother that I formed an attachment to when I was still an infant, under the age of one, though at the moment of attachment I formed it with a real live human mother, but replaced that with an idealized goddess mother. I’ll write more about that on the blog in the near future. I guess I think it is a wonderful thing to have a mother goddess and really I have had one almost all of my life, so it seems absolutely normal to me It was quite a shock to discover her firmly entrenched in my heart and in the hearts of many inners, when I re-discovered her during my healing process.

I discovered this attachment some time ago, but didn’t really think that there were any other “mothers” that I could form an attachment to. But the truth was something else entirely.

These attachments, to both mothers and fathers, have helped me to heal, to attach in some way to someone that was necessary for my life to go on in the right direction when I was still very tiny, and to believe in basic human goodness when I had no outside proof, except in my own self and own heart. As much as my attachments leave me with shaking legs and a faint heart; I have to admit I am so glad that we were brave enough to form them and to have them.

I/we had formed secret attachments to secret mothers for some time, and I think it was much easier that way because I didn’t have to admit it, or feel about it, or feel any of the terror that those conscious thoughts and choices would have done. 🙂 I’ll be writing about that process more on the blog this year, it is one of my 2016 goals.

Goals:

Do more healing work and posts on characters that I have formed a father attachment with.

Do more healing work and posts on characters that I have formed a mother attachment with.

My Fathers 4

One of my more recently acquired fathers.

Detective Inspector Fred Thursday, acted by Roger Allam.

I love the way this man cares for others. He singles out and mentors those who need him. I love the way he champions the career of Endeavor Morse, who is brilliant and intuitive, but still has so many problems dealing with others, quite an outcast character. It reminds me a lot of myself. He is a wonderful father, husband, police officer, mentor, and human being.

Because the photos of the character all seem pretty grim I am including a photo of the actor where he is looking happier.

My Fathers 2

My Father Captain Christopher Pike:

(talks about character and plot lines from Star Trek original series and Star Trek re-boot series.)

When I was a very very young child I watched the original Star Trek show. I don’t really have a lot of memories from that time of watching the show, but I think that I really loved this character. When I was a teenager and was re-watching the original series one character really struck a cord with me in the father arena, though there is another character in the original series who does that as well. Although I didn’t understand it at the time, it is quite clear to me why I feel so much attachment and connection to him and especially to him as a father.

Captain Christopher Pike is a captain of a starship that is abducted with two female shipmates for the expressed purpose of being enslaved and forced into conceiving the next generation of slaves for a species that has mind control.  He is responsible to the two women, to the other woman that they have abducted, and for all the people working on his starship. His is brave and kind and compassionate. His determination in seeking freedom convinces the other species into letting them go. Later in his career he is injured severely in a serious accident where he bravely rescues other people’s lives and becomes wheelchair bound that seems like almost an iron lung device, unable to talk except through two blinking lights on the front of his chair.

So I suppose there are several things that you can all see that I would find to love about this character, despite his circumstances, he is concerned and caring and protective of others. He is strong and brave. He is kind and gentle and generous with others. Quite possibly the ideal father to my way of thinking.

Acted by Jeffrey Hunter from Star Trek: The Original Series:

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So I’ve always had a very soft spot in my heart for Captain Christopher Pike. Some time ago I read lots of the Star Trek fiction books that had come out on the market. Some of my favorites to read were the few that were written based in the time of Captain Pike, who was the previous Captain to Captain James Kirk of the Enterprise starship.

I had been deeply troubled by his severe disabilities in the service of rescuing others. It really hurt my heart to see that his life was reduced from such a wonderful adventurous life to such a small, contained life. I know that he chose to rescue other people’s lives, even at the risk to his own, but it still hurts me to see how deeply limited his life had become.

I was so very happy to hear that Captain Pike was going to be a part of the re-boot Star Trek movies. I loved him so much in the first movie and was so happy to see him acting in a fatherly manner to a young Jim Kirk, encouraging him to be a better man and to become a leader.

In the re-boot Star Trek movies, acted by Bruce Greenwood:

I was so happy and excited that the “new time-line” could bring a better life for my much beloved character and father image. I was devastated, when in the second movie they casually kill off the character. I tried to talk about this with my therapist a couple of years ago, after the movie had come out, telling her that he had meant a lot to me, like a father and that I loved him so much, and then only ended up sobbing and unable to speak. She looked at me gently and said, well obviously this character has meant a lot to you. And I was like, yeah. (One of many reasons that this therapist was a perfect person for me to see, that she was able to see I valued and connected to and with a fictional character and treated me with kindness and gentleness about it.)

I realize that in both timelines he had a tragic ending, but I tend to ignore that. It works the best for me. So when I think of him, I think of him alive, happy, vibrant, being real and proud and brave and being my dad. I love my dad.

Therapy Ends, Again

Well another therapist from the non-profit is leaving. She called me to let me know that she was going to be leaving there. It was not at all surprising to me. On the phone message she asked if I would like to do a farewell session. I don’t want to. I won’t be.

I tried to be positive and upbeat through the process of acquiring a new therapist, but that didn’t positively affect/effect the outcome. I’m okay with that. You can’t make someone be what you need them to be and when it is a bad fit and it can’t be fixed to a healing level, it is for the best to walk away from it.

Just two weeks before she had assured me during session that she, “was not going to abandon me and that she was going to continue to see me for therapy.” Right away I knew what was going to happen.

That assured me that she was going to be leaving and abandoning me. When anyone uses the words abandon or abandonment that has meant that they are leaving, based on my adult life experiences. So I was prepared for her announcement of leaving. And not at all shocked.

I had only seen her over the time frame of about two months. I liked her when I first met her and she showed some promise, but that was not realized in our sessions. It turned out to be very upsetting and triggering, but that is for another day and another post, hopefully when I am up for sharing about all of that. So there was not any bonding and I am not upset by her departure.

I/we are very upset by and about Jon Stewart leaving his television show, someone we love and are bonded to, and not at all by the therapist’s departure. When the previous therapist was leaving, a scant four or five months ago, we were not upset about that either, but rather quite upset at the thought of losing our connections and bonding to the women’s center and our “Advocate” there.

I’m not sure right now what I will do. For the time being, I am planning on not making any decisions until the apartment complex rehab is completely done and after I have gotten some more rest and recovery time from that. I am thinking about re-joining a self-esteem support group during this time period. I really enjoyed it and it really helped me and I think it will have similar results again.

Only 7 More Episodes Left

Right now I’m watching The Daily Show. When I’m done with this episode, that means I will only have seven new episodes before Jon Stewart officially leaves the show. I love the show, we love the show. I love Jon Stewart. We love Jon Stewart.

Even though I have known about him leaving the show for a while, I am still not prepared for it. I have already cried a couple of times about this. I tried to talk about it last week to a family member and only ended up getting too choked up to speak and then crying.

No he is not dying. And no he is not retiring from working in the entertainment business. His movie, Rosewater, which we have seen and knew about the content in advance, is about imprisonment and torture of a citizen by a country, which was grueling and triggering rather than funny. So yes he will still be out there somewhere, just not in my weekly life. He was such a big part of my weekly life. And he won’t be making me laugh over and over each week.

But it feels so awful, so hard, and we are having a tremendous amount of difficulty coping with this. Therapists leave and we are a-okay, but Jon Stewart is someone that we have bonded with, have attached to, and I am just admitting to that, and feel a lot of love and adoration for. And we don’t often feel that way about just anyone. It took years and years for us to develop this much love for him. It took us years and years to feel as though he is our friend. We are feeling very sad. Very sad about all of this.

Therapy Resumes

It’s been several months since I’ve been to therapy. I’m starting back again this week and I’m really looking forward to it. I really started missing therapy about a month ago. I thought that I was doing okay, good even some of the time. But I missed going and missed having somewhere to go where I could talk about all my stuff. And I missed my therapist, missed the way that she listens to me, and her kind kind voice.

I like my therapist. I like her a lot. I respect her a lot. I enjoy being in her energy field. A therapist’s energy has never felt so good and safe and kindness seems to be everywhere around her.

Some time ago I told her that I could never do that attachment thing that people do with therapists, that bonding thing. I just don’t have that level of trust to give a therapist and I’m not sure if I ever could.

I’ve had trouble listening and reading when other survivors have a parenting attachment to their therapist and are working through that process. I can’t imagine in my wildest dreams being able to trust a therapist like that. It’s something that is way way way beyond me. I guess that shows how much other therapists have damaged me, especially in my ability to trust another therapist. I can’t imagine that area of my life healing.

On the other hand I did bond hugely with my advocate at the women’s shelter. Almost 18 months later and I still get overwhelmed with terror and horror when I think and feel about her and that I love her. I’m crying right now. I didn’t have any say in this. I didn’t get to decide intellectually about this.

It just happened. It just happened, and I get the shakes when I think of her. I don’t want to.

I want to just be able to love her and talk to her once in a while and to feel happy, because she always gives me good advice, gives me good support, and makes me feel happy, about myself and in my life. That would be nice. That would be swell.

I get that, but I also get the shaking and terror and horror, because my mother was a monster, and a child beater, and a child rapist and loving someone like a mother is more than my courageous heart can bear. My advocate is so many things that my female parent never was.

So instead I wish she were my mommy. I never had a mommy and I wish she were my mommy with all of my little baby girl heart. I can’t control it, stop it, modify it, make it better, make it easier, make it go away. And that makes me feel terrorrized, horrified, and my body shaking. This fucking sucks so bad.

Lacking Love Permanence

I lack love permanence. It is a concept that I invented to describe my mental and psychological deficiency due to being sexually and physically abused by my mother, rather than being mothered and parented by her. Most concepts I have read and heard are close to this concept, but not close enough for me.

The two concepts that as closely describe what I experience are bonding and trust, or more accurately lack of bonding and lack of trust. But

I believe that lack of “love permanence” is what happens when you are unable to grow in a bond and trust with a parental figure.

Object permanence is a psychological concept.

Wiki says, “Object permanence is the understanding that objects continue to exist even when they cannot be observed (seen, heard, touched, smelled or sensed in any way).”

This concept is not present when an infant is born, and it is developed in the first couple years of life. Psychology has been testing this concept for decades. Learning that objects exist, outside of our senses and outside of our sight gives us an ability to trust and rely upon our environment.

Having a concept inside of yourself about love works much the same way. If you are confident that you are loved, without support and immediate evidence, you have love permanence. Not having love permanence leads to a lot of anxiety, worry, depression, and social issues.

I’ve lived most of my life without love permanence. I didn’t even understand how bonding and trust impacted me, until I started blogging. Understanding that I never had love permanence has really effected me. Sometimes being able to label something can be very empowering, liberating, and healing. But it can also open a crack in the universe that you can then not ignore.

I remember trying to tell a long-term online friend about this about four years ago. We had been friends for about six years then and went on to be friends for another two years, making us friends for eight years.

I told her when I don’t talk to you on the phone and when I don’t get an email from you, I have trouble because I don’t think that you love me anymore and I have no evidence to counter that belief. I told her I can try to manage my emotions, but I realize that I cannot believe or make myself believe that you love me,  when you are not in contact with me.

She said, but of course that isn’t true for me, between us, you don’t have that issue with me.

I told her, well of course I have that issue with you. I have that issue with everyone. The sort of friend or relative someone is to me makes no difference in whether or not I can believe in being loved.

I just have to manage my emotions the best that I can. It’s a lot of work for me. I can’t just make it go away, no matter how much I wish it, no matter how much I work at it, it is still there. I still have trouble believing someone loves me when I don’t hear from them for weeks or a month. I have a long history of people fading away from my life, leaving me bit by bit, so it’s doubly hard for me, I think, because this is how I lose people from my life.

She was truly appalled that I felt that way and believed that somehow I should be able to believe in her love for me, even when we did not interact in any way for a month or more.  I tried really hard to explain to her that it had nothing to do with her and really only had to do with me. But admittedly not hearing from a close friend for over a month seems like a long time to me. I had other online and blog friends during all of the time that we were friends, so I don’t believe that I was relying on her a great deal for most of my support and friendship. I got some support and some friendship from her and that was a wonderful thing, but I never had love permanence with her.

Well about four years ago we had this conversation and two years ago we stopped being friends.  When our friendship ended I was shocked and appalled that it did. I did believe that she had loved me, at some time in our friendship, but I didn’t see a lot of impact from her and her love in my life. She seemed to have a lot of trouble expressing and acting loving. I think that had a part in our friendship, but in a large measure I just was not able to believe that she loved me without hearing from her.

However I felt totally confident that she did not love me anymore, due to her words and actions towards me. I was surprised that I was okay with that. I think that is because the end of our friendship was a long time coming, happening over the space of several years. I can only say that that was how it seemed to me. I never really felt confident in her love. Perhaps I have never felt confident in the love of anyone, even when I have seen or heard from them often.

I tried to talk about love permanence in therapy in the last year. It did not go well. I had a lot of trouble talking about it. I wrote an email to a blog friend about it, about a year ago, and that was excruciating. I’ve been meaning to blog about it for over a year. This is my first post about it.

I suppose that in some ways I’ve changed a lot, even in the last two years. I suppose if I were to tell the absolute truth I would have to say that I still lack love permanence.

I’m still shocked and amazed when someone loves me and it still triggers a lot of pain and sorrow and memories of being unloved and hated and abused as a child. I am hoping that it will get better as I continue to walk my healing path.

What I do know now is that after lots of hard years of working on healing, I love me. I love my inners, I love my spirit guides, I love my animal guides, I love my guardian angel and, very importantly, they love me. I have to keep reminding myself of that. I am not alone. I am loved. I am never alone.

Love remains constant, even when I cannot see it or feel it, it is there, I am loved. I think reminding myself of this is a good step in establishing love permanence. I’m not sure if I will ever achieve love permanence. But I know that I will continue to work on healing and walk my healing path.

My Bestest Friend Emailed Me! :)

My bestest online friend of all time, my beloved Fish, emailed me recently. It made me smile and cry at the same time. It always happens like that. I have received several emails from her lately. I am so excited and so happy. She wrote thanks for not forgetting me. I could never forget you sweet fish.

I am now trying to figure out what to say about my life and stuff, I always seem to draw a blank lately when trying to email peeps. And even worse, now, having trouble figuring out what to write for new posts here.

We met online about twelve years ago! She is so sweet and wonderful and oh my god! if you think that I am those things, please believe me she is all that and more. She is one of my friends that I refer to as Angel Spirits. I have only known four Angel Spirits and she is one of them.

My friend Fish has lots of health issues and we had not been in contact in a while. But I have a photo she sent me some years ago, of herself, and I have it sitting on my desk next to my computer monitor screen and I look at it at least a hundred times a day. 🙂 I also have several greeting cards she has sent, taped up so I can see them each day, even though they were sent some time ago, they each make me feel happy, they each make me smile.

I wish that you all had such a wonderful friend as her. But you can’t have her. She’s my best friend.

Birthday Presents to Myself

For my birthday I decided to give myself some presents.

I’ve been a Star Trek fan since I was very little and the show first aired. I’ve been a science-fiction and fantasy fan since I was born. One of my strong connections to life and this world is through science-fiction and fantasy. I’ll write more about that connection in a future post.

My first present was to buy the book The Star Trek Concordance. I used to have a copy of this book years ago but had sold it to a used store during one of my desperately poor periods when I would routinely sell off my books. Normally I wouldn’t sell off a reference book like that, but it had been a Christmas present years ago by one of my sexual offenders and I didn’t want that connection to be with that book. Before my birthday I bought it used through amazon for $6. I had started watching the original series on netflix once again. I’ve missed it a  lot. I’m also pinning a lot of Star Trek photos onto my Pinterest account.

For my birthday I also gave myself the gift of commitment to find some inexpensive exercise equipment. I decided to go at least once a week to one or both of the closest used stores looking for something to buy that I can exercise with. I’ve seen some really good deals for older models for under $20. It is hard to find someone to help me transport items I may buy, but I have to try. I am proud to report that I have already found one machine. It is a manual treadmill. That means that basically the action of walking makes the belt move. It looks something like this. Pretty good deal. I use it every day. I am continuing to look for older model stationary bike and other exercise equipment.

I also took my bike in for a tune-up and necessary fixes. I deserve to have a bike that works properly so that I can travel safer and easier and more comfortably. This was something that I have put off for a long time. I am so glad that my bike rides will be so much smoother and more enjoyable. I’ve been averaging two to six miles or more on days that I am well enough to ride my bike. About a week ago I rode about fourteen miles, my top daily mileage ever.

I am also getting my Gyn exam and a mammogram done this month. My Gyn exam will be this Thursday, June 14th. My mammogram the following Tuesday, June 19th. Again, happy birthday to me.

I used to be a member of two museums and go to them. I loved that. I would be in a lot of pain to walk, but I still wanted to do it. Then I injured my hip while preparing to move three years ago.  I couldn’t go for visits any more. The often bemoaned how the city I lived in when I was in the warmer state did not have a museum. Since moving back to my home state over two years agoI haven’t been to a museum. So I decided to give myself the birthday presents of memberships to the two museums again.

So for my birthday, I bought the membership to the Minneapolis Institute of Art this month. I love this museum. I’ve been going there since a school field trip as a child. For the membership I get a free ticket each time I visit for exhibitions. Which is particularly wonderful since there is a new exhibition opening this month, Rembrandt in America. I’m really looking forward to it. There are also some of my favorite art pieces that I have got to see each time I go. I am so looking forward to that, I’ve missed them.

For my birthday, next month I am going to get a membership to The Walker Art Center. The Walker has more modern art. It takes a lot more work to appreciate and understand modern art. I remember going there once in my twenties and totally being clueless about a lot of the art installations. I just didn’t get it, not at all. I took a short class three years ago through the downtown library by a professor of a great art college nearby and it really opened up my mind and my eyes. So I love going to the Walker now. I particularly loved going to the Picasso and Frida Kahlo exhibits. And there are several rooms in the permanent collection that I love communing with.

I also have plans to go to some book club meetings. One meeting in August is on the first book in the Game of Thrones series. I am reading that book right now. I love it and I love the series on HBO as well. There is a downtown library book club and I keep hoping they pick a book soon that I want to read so I can go to one of their meetings. Guess I have to keep watching their posted choices.

Another gift that I want to give to myself is a wider social groups for interactions. There are several other groups that I want to join; one a science-fiction club, one a gluten intolerance group, and the last a large social group that gets together to play board games. I want to make my life happier and fuller and with more support around some of my favorite interests. Good gifts that keep on giving.

My Grandmother’s Funeral

My grandmother died when I was a child. I wanted to go to her funeral. My mother refused to let me. The reason she used with the family was that I was too young to go to a funeral, too young to see a dead body, and that it might make me feel a lot of negative emotions and cause me to have nightmares.

At that young age I knew that I needed to go to the funeral. I needed to see her dead body laid out, to walk up there and see and know she was dead. I knew it was an important part of something for me. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew. I wasn’t a witness to healthy emotions of any kind, let alone sadness and loss, but I knew. I knew what was right for me.

I suppose now I would call it going through a grief process. I wasn’t allowed to go and so there was a part of grief that just wasn’t allowed to happen in my life, in me.

In the last couple of years I have started to remember my grandmother as a sexual offender, just little snippets, though it is definitely sexual abuse against me while I was still a pre-schooler and it is definitely her, with my mother in the room.

At home I would try to stop my mother, and her response was always the same, it was pefectly normal, her mother did this to her, her mother’s mother did it to her mother. I don’t remember her ever saying that every mother did this to her little girls. But the concept was there in her mind, but never in mine. I never accepted that. I never believed that.

One incident was in my grandparents’ kitchen and it was stopped, because of family interruptions. I remember the fear and the expectation and trying to stop them and then the relief. There are more. I just haven’t remembered them yet.

It sort of fits in with everything I remember. I remember the few times that I would go into her kitchen looking for food, because I was so hungry, I would try to hide, usually under the kitchen table where no one would grab me. I remember being little and avoiding the kitchen like someone would try to avoid the plague. I remember the hatred, jealously, and rage swirling around my mother and grandmother while they dominated that room. How they would say they only wanted everyone to get together and when anyone would show up they would bitch about them behind their backs, for not helping in the kitchen and cooking.  

 I remember my grandfather and father sitting in the living room, where I was expected to sit on the couch and behave. I remember everyone telling me to stay out of the kitchen. Them telling me to stay out of grandmother’s way and to say we all had to be careful and not upset her, because she had a heart condition.

I never had a real grandmother. My father’s mother had died long before I was born. My mother’s mother was a sex offender to me. So when I wanted to go to her funeral I don’t think that it was to honor her, it was to honor me and my survival and triumph over her. It was to acknowledge that grief is present even, and sometimes especially, when the other person has given you nothing good, except life, and though they have taken a great deal from you, they can no longer take your body or your mind, and that they will never get your soul.

Today I mourn. And I honor my survival of her.