November and December Posting, Blogging, and Blog Carnivalling

I have plans to be blogging a lot in November and December. And more in the new year than I have done this year.

I am glad that I managed to blog more last month, especially in the last half of the month. I really found it helpful and healing to write and post on the topics that I did. I always feel as though posting here on the blog helps me to think, feel, process, and heal on a huge number of topics.

I’m still struggling with writer’s block on a number of topics, but I will just keep writing. It is more difficult to write, but important that I do, even if it is flawed, even if I can’t explain things as well as I would like, even if things are very imperfect. I will continue with the struggle.

With that in mind I offered to host the Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse for November and December. The upcoming holidays have given me a lot of ideas for a central theme for the blog carnival editions.

The theme for each of the months will be holidays; good childhood memories and difficult childhood memories, coping and grounding and self-soothe and comfort skills from the past, what works now, and what skills you are working at doing, and creating new holiday traditions.

I’m planning on writing myself about my own childhood experiences during the holiday season; the good, the bad, and the ugly. The holiday season still manages to bring each of the three types of holiday experiences my way each year. Because my frequently recurring dysfunctional holiday experiences, I wanted to try to make my blog full of the good, suggestions on avoiding the bad, and help and support when the ugly comes along or comes up from the past.

Since World Kindness Day and World Peace Day are November 13th and 17th, please also consider writing a post on kindness or peace as well and submitting them for the Blog Carnvial.  I am going to try to write posts for both days.

If you don’t have a blog or have a private blog you could submit a post directly to me and I can guest post it here on my blog. If you want to write on the holiday theme or any other and want to do a guest post, I can then include you in the Blog Carnival.

Submissions for either month can be done from today until the date of each Edition. Since I am hosting the Blog Carnival here at my blog for both months, you can submit for both months in the next few weeks, before the holiday season gets a hold of us all. You can also write some new posts on the holiday theme ideas or one of the other regular topics.

Submissions Form

November’s deadline will be November 21st and the Edition will be published late that evening.

December’s deadline will be December 17th and the Edition will be published late that evening.

Blog post submissions for the Blog Carnivals in November and December also include: child abuse survivor stories, art and poetry, art therapy, child abuse as a topic in the news media, as well as PTSD, disassociation, areas of aftermath and aftereffects of abuse, therapy, recovery, and healing from abuse, and, all forms of child advocacy and awareness.
Advocacy and Awareness
Aftermath
Healing and Therapy
In the News
Poetry
Survivor Stories
Art Therapy

Here is the link to make submissions:

Submissions Form

My Mother Was an Eating Disorder

Besides being a mother-daughter sexual abuser, my mother was an eating disorder. As a baby she would sometimes  refuse to feed me. She would stop me before I got enough food. 

Later she would give me soured milk in my bottle and then take it away when I wouldn’t drink it and say, you don’t drink it, you get nothing, like it was my choice not to have food. No one else was there to notice or to stop her. I knew. I remembered. My body remembered. I was underweight. I was underweight all my childhood.

As a toddler she would take away my naptime bottle from me and give it to my brother. She would offer me food if I would sit or lay still while she abused me or if I would do whatever she instructed me to do when she was sexually abusing me. I abhorred what she wanted to do to me.

As a pre-schooler she would deprive me of food. Any time there were family members I would get food. I could have breakfast each morning. Whether or not I could keep it in my stomach was another matter.

I hated being touched by her. I hated everything about her body. I hated her with a passion. I remember being three and four years old and being consumed with wanting to beat her to death with my bare hands. She would make me vomit up breakfast if she did not think I was cooperating, or sometimes even when I did everything she asked when she was enraged as revenge against some imagined slight or wound, and then she would refuse to give me lunch. The evening meal was often the only meal that I had.

At times I was so gnawingly starved that I did not fight her. Sometimes I did not have the energy to do it. She was huge and powerful. Or I did not have the will to do it. I was tiny and powerless. Or I did not have the mind focus to hide from her or to avoid her or to become invisible right after all the family members left the house and she would catch me. I was a pre-schooler. I was a little child.

At no time have I ever blamed myself for being sexually abused by my mother, not to me, not to us. Some of us inside our multiple system have blamed and some still do blame themselves for not being loved by her, for not being nurtured and cared for by her, for not being protected and fed by her, and for being physically, emotionally, verbally, and sexually abused by her. She constantly blamed us. It was inevitable that her words would become our own inner critic voice, word for word.

Weekends were good. I had witnesses. I am so thankful to my father and family members for being there. I am thankful to them that they were not keeping food from me and I believe that they would not have cooperated with that if they had known. Everyone expected food. Food was a big part of our family life. It was a joy that we all took part in.

She was the person to dish out the food for each person at our table, for every meal. She controlled food in my life, completely.

I cannot express the joy at getting out of that house and going to school at age five. I could eat three meals a day. I was ecstatic. I wasn’t being raped. I wasn’t being beaten. I wasn’t being starved. It was a safe haven. And I was learning. Knowledge, my new obsession.

As a teenager she tried to make me fat. I was deathly afraid of being fat and cruel like her since I was very tiny. I had gained about twenty pounds around age fourteen as I was developing. I stopped eating treats, started running and doing exercises every evening and she went breserk.

She confronted me alone and threatened me. She said I would eat everything she gave me in my lunchbag or else I would regret it. She was hysterical about it all. I told her I wouldn’t and there would be nothing she could do about it and from now on I wouldn’t give it away to anyone else on the bus for my brothers to see and rat me out to her, so she would never know if I was eating everything or not. It was one of the times that I had answered her back and stood up for myself around food.

I didn’t have an eating disorder. My mother was an eating disorder in my life.

I do have disordered eating, at times, and have a very skewed concept of eating, portions, nutrition, and food preparation. She refused to teach me cooking or baking. She would describe the process in magical terms, always reminding me that I wasn’t good enough or smart enough to do what she did with food. She did that whole pinch of this, a handful of that, to taste sort of cooking. That, she made a huge point to always tell me, was way beyond my capabilities.

Everything about food had become over-shadowed with her and all the ways that she stopped me and abused me and used me around food. Since everything about food was consumed by my parental sexual abuser and with my supposed inadequacies and undeservedness of food, it makes food a very negatively charged topic. And the fact that you have to eat every day, with that heavy load in your mind and heart, to help your body be sustained, it is very hard, a very real challenge, at 2 and 6, and 14 and today.

I realize that I have developed a number of ways to have and work on connectedness. But I do not have a connection to food. And that would seem pretty elementary of a thing for someone to have. I have always been afraid that being more connected to food will make me gain a lot more weight.

Being overweight to begin with fuels my fears. I have to deprive myself so much, because I gain weight easily and due to my health limitations cannot walk much or run at all, which are usually necessary for keeping my weight down. Being starved as a tiny child means that my body is in self-defense mode each time I eat and don’t eat, and it compensates to keep me alive.

It’s very hard to lose weight. I have to deprive myself, but it is sort of necessary in order to lose weight. I hate to do that. It is so much like living with my mother and being abused and starved. It can be so triggering. It feels as though I am abusing myself.

The kinds of abuses my mother did to me around food in the furtherance of her sexually abusing me has made food an integral part of child sexual abuse. It disconnected me from food. It was a way of coping. It was a way of surviving.

It is normal for someone to have a strong connection to food, but we don’t have one.  So starting today, on Mother’s Day, I will start working on establishing my connectedness to food. I am planning on posting more about my weight loss efforts, my small indulgences that glory in food, my continuing efforts to make food, and my gluten-free cooking and gluten-free foods I have tried and hated and tried and loved.

This is all about the abuses my mother perpetrated against me, both sexual and otherwise, and the damage and aftereffects of mother-daughter sexual abuse. I will be striving to make food a central and loving part of my life, one that is loving and life-affirming, one that is healing, one that sings of nurturance and joy, one that allows me to maintain a more healthier weight.

Mother-Daughter Sexual Abuse Resources

Healing from Abuse Resources

Connectedness to Diety

Since I was very young I have had a very strong connection to diety. I became a Christian when I was still only three years old. I would have done it sooner, it was just that I did not understand the concept of God and Jesus before that, and even then only a small little concept of it at three years old. I received a great deal of love and acceptance from God as a child and a young adult. It saved my life many, many times. It kept me safe from being sexually exploited as many times as well.

I have always had trouble interacting with and dealing with God as a father. My father was far from benign. He was an alcoholic who was ineffectual at being a parent, at showing love, and at being protective. He was verbally and emotionally abusive and he visibly showed his pleasure in those activities. So it is hard for me to see God as a father.

Much of the last twenty years or so I have interacted more with Jesus. It is nominally better than thinking of God as a father.

I have trouble praying and asking for help for me or for others. Mostly because I don’t think that I am valuable enough to be loved and cared for and I wonder why God would want to listen to me or do something for me, even when I am asking for something for someone else. And really with my real father as a role model, that makes it easy for me to believe those things.

Since remembering the mother-daughter sexual abuse I have had much more difficulty accepting God in my life. It has kind of broken my trust. I remember the kind of mother I came into the world to and it shatters me to think this is the kind of mother God picked out for me. I know that isn’t true, but I still feel that way. It may take some time to alter this way of seeing things.

I now see God as mother, father, son. I know that at other times in history there have been people who have seen diety as being female and male. Some were Christians and some were of other religious traditions and beliefs.

Thinking of God as a mother is difficult as well. However I am trying to. And have to remind myself all the time that God is not like my mother, not at all.

I have not been working on this rebuilding this relationship very much, but I am doing some work on it. I see the importance in my life and in being connected to diety, so I will

Connectedness to Personality Type

My Myers-Briggs Personality Type:

ENFJ: Extrovert Intuitive Feeling Judging.

I remember when I first did the test, about ten years ago. It was during a class offered at the local job workforce center. One day you complete the test and the next day of class you see the results. I read over my type and a lot of it clicked and made perfect sense to me.

And then the teacher said okay think of several people in your family and write down where you think they fall, based on what you have learned. It was just an estimate, but it was shocking and amazing to me.

I saw how most of the people in my family of origin did not share any of the same characteristics that I had. Not only that, but I was able to realize that my family were rigid in their own type, even more so from having so many people in the family exactly like them, and were incapable of wanting to understand that other people are different and that different is okay. I recalled so many times when they judged and demeaned me because I was not like them, different.

Doing this type test allowed me to let go of that and their beliefs about me. It was not about me. It was about them. It was about being able to accept myself and to be connected to who I was intrinsically in my personality. It was about finding others who could accept me and see the unique personality I was in the midst of my personality type.

I am not just my personality type. I am not rigid about how that impacts my life or how other people’s personality types impacts theirs. We are more than our personality types. But it brings new understanding so long as I am flexible and accepting of myself and others.

I really love and accept my personality type. It brings me a lot of fun and joy. 🙂

Connectedness to Chocolate

Mostly we are told that all kinds of food is bad for us. Or that it isn’t healthy. Or that we shouldn’t eat it or we should feel sinful and guilty for eating them.

I do believe that it is important to eat mostly healthy food. Healthy food can taste great and that is important and important to realize that food is not just for eating, not just for fuel. Food is for a huge number of reasons.

As well I believe it is okay, some of the time, to have fun, to indulge, to please ourselves, to eat purely for pleasure.

For me that is chocolate. Then of course there is coffee. They connect me to my life and to pleasure and happiness. Good reasons.

Oh magic beans!

Connectedness to Angel Spirit

I wish I could explain this good, but I don’t have a good grasp of it myself. The Littles are the ones who first introduced me to the concept of angel spirit. I’ve asked them to explain it to me, but they get too upset and very emotional about it all. All I know is the emotions that they have shared with me and how much love they have for those who have an angel spirit. So I would have to say it is a huge amount of love and emotion that they are feeling.

More than twenty years ago they told me that a friend of ours was an angel spirit. They loved her very much and never wanted her to leave from our life. It was very sad when she ebbed out of our life.

Our friend Joanies, who reads our blog, also has an angel spirit. We love her so much. One of our best friends, Fish, has an angel spirit as well.

The Littles have managed to communicate to me a few words. They believe that these people don’t have a human spirit, they have an angel spirit. I didn’t know that was possible. But if it is possible, then my two friends are definitely angel spirits.

I love you Joanies. I love you Fish.

Connectedness to My Best Friend

Having a best friend has always meant so much to me. Usually I didn’t have one. Having a friend is good, but a best friend is the best.

I tried for years and years to find friends near me. They just weren’t that interested in me. I don’t know why or what is wrong. But then I started finding friends online. It took me a while to find some best friends.

About ten years ago I decided that I wanted to have three best friends. Right now I have two. I love them lots.

So my best friends don’t live near me. We wish that we could live with one of them all the time and the other one could visit us here very often. We will keep wishing.

Friends connect you to your most primal needs. Best friends fulfill them.