DEALING WITH SOCIETY/CULTURE, MOTHER'S DAY & OTHER HOLIDAYS

Got a Great Idea from Beth on my Daughters Recovering from Narcissistic Mothers Facebook Group...

Here are some ideas from members for having a Narcissistic-Free Birthday or Holiday:

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B:
After I separated from my first husband, I was lonely, lost, freaked out, scared, suffering major panic-attacks and PTSD. When the Holidays came it was the first time in many years I didn't have a home to invite anyone to, as ALL of my "friends" picked him to stay friends with. (He was SO awesome, life of the party, everyone loved him!!! He was also a physically and mentally abusive N). Instead of sitting at home and crying ( I was suicidal as well) I volunteered to serve Thanksgiving dinner to travelers in our area, specifically truck drivers who had to work that day. It was AWESOME! Talking to and learning about people I would never see again. Giving and listening to men and women who were missing their families. We were called angels many times that day. I floated home. Getting outside of yourself on special days when you not only feel alone, but maybe really are, and helping others is the only way I've ever found to completely counteract those terrible feelings. My little 2 cents. :)

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A:
It's my birthday! 40 years ago today...! Later today, am going to the Chocolate Bar with a friend. Looking forward to it :-) http://www.thechocolatebarellon.co.uk/chocolate/Welcome.html

I also bought a birthday card for myself and signed it "Love from your internal loving Mother xxx" She also signed Happy Birthday in German, French, Polish and Italian. That woman knows that I love languages even if my natural mother did not.
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Some more links to help sustain you:

 
http://narcissists-suck.blogspot.ca/2007/05/mothers-day-and-your-narcissist-mom.html
Anna Valerious
Mother's Day and Your Narcissist Mom


http://narcissists-suck.blogspot.ca/2008/11/holidays-with-narcissists-suck.html
Anna Valerious
Holidays with Narcissists Suck


blog.thenarcissistinyourlife.com/2011/11/27/steer-clear-of-narcissistic-family-dynamics-during-the-holidays.aspx
Linda Martinez-Lewi, Ph.D.
Steer Clear of Narcissistic Family Dynamics During the Holidays


http://www.daughtersofnarcissisticmothers.com/narcissistic-mothers-and-society.html
Danu Morrigan
Narcissistic Mothers and Society


http://wrylilt.hubpages.com/hub/Growing-up-without-a-Mother
HubPages
Girls Growing up without a Mother - Mothers Without Mothers


http://hopehealing.wordpress.com/2010/04/30/april-30-2010-mothers-day-survival-guide-how-to-cope-if-you-have-a-narcissistic-mother/
Mother’s Day Survival Guide–How To Cope If You Have a Narcissistic Mother
Elaine D. Sanders, LLC


http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-legacy-distorted-love/201204/when-mother-s-day-hurts
Recognizing, understanding and overcoming the debilitating impact of maternal narcissism.
by Karyl McBride, Ph.D


http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-legacy-distorted-love/201005/mothers-day-and-daughters-trial
Mother's Day and Daughters on Trial
by Karyl McBride, Ph.D.


http://mental-health.families.com/blog/celebrating-mothers-day-when-you-dont-like-your-mom
Celebrating Mother's Day When You Don't Like Your Mom
Beth McHugh


http://www.motherrr.com/help/topics/jealousy/articles/daughtersofnarcissisticmothers
Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers - A Painful Psychological Legacy
Dr. Linda Martinez-Lewi


http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-legacy-distorted-love/201001/narcissistic-moms-and-holidays
Narcissistic Moms and Holidays
by Karyl McBride, Ph.D.


http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-legacy-distorted-love/201201/are-you-recovering-the-merry-merry-and-the-ho-ho-hos
Are You “Recovering” from the Merry! Merry! And the Ho! Ho! Ho's?
by Karyl McBride, Ph.D.


http://postcardstoanarcissist.wordpress.com/2011/10/27/you-are-not-alone-in-dreading-the-holiday-season/
Postcards to a Narcissist: You’re Not Alone in Dreading the Holiday Season!
by Janet


http://www.narcissismdailymirror.com/2011/11/be-emotionally-prepared-this-holiday.html
Be Emotionally Prepared this Holiday Season
Narcissism Daily Mirror


http://brokentelegraph.com/2011/12/13/holidays-with-the-narcissists-and-what-to-do-about-it/
Holidays with the Narcissists, and What to Do About It
by: Ian Ebright


http://yourlife.usatoday.com/sex-relationships/lifesolutions/post/2011-12-19/having-a-narcissist-for-the-holidays/588559/1
Having a narcissist for the holidays?
By Stacy Kaiser


http://www.luke173ministries.org/564629 The Birthday Party Double Standard- National Holiday vs. Chopped Liver
by Rev. Renee


http://crazysexylife.com/2010/how-to-nurture-yourself-be-your-own-mother/
How to Nurture Yourself & Be Your Own Mother
By Tama J. Kieves
I have had to learn how to mother myself. I love my mother more than ever before, but for many years I felt I got the short end of the umbilical cord. Like many of us, I didn’t get the movie mother — the tireless cheerleader, the fierce cub protector, or the one who listened deeply to all my secret places and saw colors in me that I had yet to see. That mother was on back order when I was placing my cosmic selection. Instead, I got someone who hadn’t read the manual and, I know now, deserved and needed a mother herself.


http://articles.cnn.com/2008-05-13/living/o.build.better.mother_1_biological-mother-ideal-mother-biological-mom?_s=PM%3ALIVING
Create yourself a new mother
By Martha Beck
Unfortunately, motherhood is so difficult that virtually no one does it perfectly. Maybe your mother was flawless, but it's more likely she made mistakes. Whatever her errors, you inherited a legacy of sorrow.


http://tinybuddha.com/blog/how-to-open-yourself-to-love-when-you-didn%E2%80%99t-grow-up-with-it/
How to Open Yourself to Love When You Didn’t Grow Up with It
Lori Deschene; Tiny Buddha Founder
Editor’s Note: This is an anonymous contribution by a woman named Marie
I was always someone that craved love and attention. This is not to say that I accepted love willingly—quite the opposite, in fact.

http://www.faqs.org/childhood/Me-Pa/Mothering-and-Motherhood.html
Mothering and Motherhood: An Essay on various Cultures and Times Regarding Mothering and Motherhood.
KATHLEEN UNO "It is common sense that all mothers love and care for their children. Or at least it is comforting to believe this is true in all times and places. Yet news broadcasts flash crimes such as teenage mothers abandoning infants in restrooms, mothers burning cigarettes into their children's flesh, mothers starving their children to death, and the like. Although this short entry cannot consider motherhood and mothering (the tasks of caring for children) in all times and places, it offers evidence from several eras and continents to suggest historical and cultural variations in motherhood and mothering. In other words, operating on the premise that both motherhood and mothering are socially constructed, this entry looks at how both ideas about what a mother is and should be and ideas about how mothers should care for their children have varied over time and space. It focuses primarily on agricultural and industrial societies of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. (Some references for continents not covered in the text appear in the bibliography.)"


http://booksellers.penguin.com/static/pdf/pop-pa-days-of-abandonment.pdf
The Days of Abandonment (a study guide novel about an abandonned woman and what happens to her and her children, very pertinent questions...)
by Elena Ferrante
-- this reading group guide has been prepared by Michael Reynolds for Europa Editions
There is an interesting side note on the right of the page, about the author.


http://worldbuildingrules.wordpress.com/2012/05/13/shake-up-your-definition-of-motherhood/
Shake Up Your Definition of Motherhood
Posted by: kshayes513 "These ideas are controversial, because for most of us, the definition of  “motherhood” is built into our worldview like a floor in a house, so integral to our assumptions about the nature of life and the universe, that we never question it until we bash our heads against a definition of motherhood that doesn’t look like ours. Then there’s screaming and flame wars and political meltdowns."

http://www.encyclopedia.com/topic/Motherhood.aspx
Motherhood International Encyclopedia of Marriage and Family

THE NARCISSIST'S TWISTED VERSION OF RELIGION

How many of you lovely ladies are stricken like a deer in the headlights when your Nmom or other N in your life throws religion at you as a way to keep you trapped?

It's convenient for the N, when she thinks she has exclusive knowledge on the interpretation of the bible (and everything else, of course)... She can use religion, and pretty much anything else, as a tool to keep you under her control...

Or can she?

Mwahahaha! No! She cannot!

First of all, you are aware (or need to be) that plenty of human beings in the past have used their own interpretations of the bible and other doctrine or beliefs to start wars and to get their way. Just because these people used the bible, it doesn't give them the right to attack another country. If everyone would just listen to the Golden Rule about treating others the way you would like to be treated, we'd all get along a lot better. There is a similar Golden Rule in many many other cultures and ethnic groups, not just in Christianity: http://www.teachingvalues.com/goldenrule.html

Secondly, using the "Thou shalt obey thy mother and father..."   Now now now... Hold on there a minute. You are supposed to obey God above your mom and dad. So if mom and dad are telling you to do things against God's law, then you must make an exception. And as you know, an N might think they DO have authority and control over everyone, including God which breaks the first commandments. And Ns lie lie lie lie lie... And pretty much kill you a little bit each day... And covet things that they feel everyone else has and they don't (or they feel entitled to the things other people have)... Need I go on? If a parent is breaking pretty much every single commandment, what right do they have to try to enforce the 10 Commandments on you?

Thirdly, if your parents do dishonorable things and do not accept consequences for their actions, how can children honor that?

Now how about this "Forgive and Forget" thing? The problem is, again, that the N turns this to their advantage. Their own interpretation and twisted idea about forgiveness is not the REAL definition of forgiveness. In an N's mind, you aren't forgiving them, you are excusing their behaviour and therefore saying it's sanctioned by God to excuse them... Ha! Forgiveness is a two way street. The N has the responsibility to NOT hurt the forgiver over and over. However, you will see again and again that this is not the case: an N will rarely admit they were at fault (unless they are trying to pretend in order to lure you back into the dysfunction) and don't feel the need to be forgiven in the first place.

More links here to explain further:
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http://newhopeoutreach.wordpress.com/related-articles/child-abuse-articles/how-do-i-honor-an-abusive-parent/
New Hope Outreach: How Do I Honor An Abusive Parent?
By Danni Moss
The church teaches “children obey your parents” and “children honor your parents” – but if the issue of domestic violence in marriage is largely invisible in the church, you can bet the issue of honoring an abusive parent is even further off the radar. What do you do when your parent is abusive?
Related link: http://diaryofascapegoat.blogspot.ca/2010/03/issue-of-honoring-ones-parents.html


http://lavistachurchofchrist.org/LVanswers/2010/02-11.html
La Vista Church of Christ Q&A:
Our parents are abusive, ungodly people. I have forgiven them and continue to ask God to help me. My sister says I have to honor them by doing what they want because they are old. She chooses subject herself to their verbal abuse. I struggle to do as God would want. I do not wish to continue to put myself in such a position. Can I still honor them and not physically be around them? I cannot be who God wants me to be when I have to deal with their anger, narcissism, favoritism, and wicked tongues. It cuts like a knife and has never stopped. How do I honor without setting myself up for more hurt?  What more can I do besides forgive them and prayer?


http://bible.org/seriespage/boundaries-4-boundaries-family
Boundaries With Family Study By: Sue Bohlin
Susie had a problem that I had seen countless times before. This thirty-year-old woman would return from a visit to her parents' home and suffer a deep depression.
When she described her problem to me, I asked her if she noticed that every time she went home to visit, she came back extremely depressed.


http://www.gotquestions.org/honor-father-mother.html
Question: "What does it mean to honor my father and mother?"
Honoring your father and mother is being respectful in word and action and having an inward attitude of esteem for their position. The Greek word for honor means “to revere, prize, and value.” -- if you read further down it says that if a child's parents do ungodly things or go against God, then the child must choose God over his/her parents...


http://narcissists-suck.blogspot.ca/search?q=religion
Narcissists Suck: "From Such Turn Away"
-- by Anna Valerious
"But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come: For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away!" 2 Tim. 3:1-5 NKJV


http://narcissists-suck.blogspot.ca/2007/07/forgiveness.html
Narcissists Suck: Forgiveness
-- by Anna Valerious
The standard panacea unhelpfully offered to those who are struggling with abuse past and present is "forgiveness". It is always assumed that you must "forgive" and all will be healed in your torn up soul. Your emotional wounds will finally close and you'll even be able to invite your abuser over for Christmas dinner next December.


http://www.luke173ministries.org/537996
Is God Really Telling Us To Honor Abusive Parents?
By Rev. Renee Pittelli
This dilemma weighs heavy on the hearts of many children of abusive parents, and abusers and their Silent Partners never miss an opportunity to remind us that, as Christians, we “HAVE to honor our fathers and mothers”, apparently, and according to their thinking, no matter what. Certainly none of us wants to break one of the Ten Commandments. But the idea of rewarding abusers with honor seems completely irrational, and contradictory to just about everything else written in the Bible, where evildoers are never honored, but punished time and again. This is God’s Law of Sowing and Reaping (Galatians 6:7, Job 4:8), that those who do wrong will not benefit from their wickedness, but suffer the Natural Consequences of their actions.


http://www.huffingtonpost.com/judith-acosta-lisw-cht/dealing-with-narcissists_b_786512.html
Should You Forgive Narcissists Who've Hurt You?
-- by Judith Acosta 
In our dialogue about narcissists and sociopaths, many of you have shared your own stories. The damage people do is sometimes beyond my ken. The wounds they inflict because of thoughtlessness or pure malice can last a lifetime. Some of you wrote about your pain. Some were enraged. Some longed for reconciliation, others for vindication. Some wanted revenge, plain and simple, while others talked about letting go.
How does one proceed after living with or being raised by a narcissist?
There are choices.


http://www.spiritualwisdom.org.uk/forgiveness-spiritual-life.htm
Forgiveness
-- by Alan Misson: Editor of this Spiritual Wisdom website.
‘Forgive and forget’ is a well known saying but in so many situations in life both these things seem practically impossible. Trying to extend forgiveness to people who have hurt us, or those close to us, can cause much anguished heart and conscience searching, particularly to those trying to live a life based on religious beliefs.


http://timthurmansblog.blogspot.ca/2011/09/on-forgiveness-is-there-difference.html
On Forgiveness: Is There A Difference Between Forgiving And Excusing?
-- by Tim Thurman 
Should Mel Gibson be forgiven?
 When I think of Mel Gibson, many things come to my mind. 
 I think of the mind blowing, beautiful movie that he produced, The Passion of Christ.  I think of him hitting his girlfriend, and telling her that she deserved it.  I think of some of his earlier movies, the Lethal Weapon series, which are among my favorites. I think of his drunken anti-Semitic comments that he made.


http://www.durrance.com/FrAl/tract_on_forgiveness.htm
FORGIVENESS IS HEALING FOR OURSELVES
Published by the Order of St. Luke the Physician
Jim Glennon, one of the premier teachers about Christian healing can tell you in a heartbeat the importance of forgiveness to healing. It was through forgiveness over a period of time that enabled him to receive his own healing, and he has shared that revelation with many since that time. I am one of those.


http://blogs.psychcentral.com/mindfulness/2012/01/forgiveness-9-steps-to-releasing-the-burden/
Forgiveness: 9 Steps to Releasing the Burden By Elisha Goldstein, Ph.D.
I see it every day. We all hold grudges against other people who we feel have hurt or offended us in some way or another. We even hold these grudges for people who aren’t even alive anymore. We do this with the false idea that somehow we are making them suffer by being hurt and angry with them.


http://elissestuart.wordpress.com/2008/11/06/can-you-truly-forgive-a-narcissist/
Can You Truly Forgive a Narcissist?
- by Elisse Stuart
Sometimes I get my best ideas for a post by using the search engine terms.  One of my friends pointed this part of the dashboard out to me when I first started blogging.  She said, “Look to see the search engine phrases people use to find your blog…”  This phrase was one that caught my attention this week.  To whoever…whomever… (?) entered this search term….thank you. 


http://www.angelfire.com/zine2/narcissism/healing_from_narcissistic_abuse.html
HEALING FROM NARCISSISTIC ABUSE: FORGIVENESS
-- author unknown 
In the aftermath of my encounter with an Internet psychopath or "cyberpath"- a severe form of mental rape along the narcissism continuum, I have puzzled over what "forgiveness" means, in books, and on the Internet. I have been exhorted, in groups, to "forgive", Forgive Or Forfeit Your "Soul". I have not been able to forgive, nor wished to forgive, nor dwelled on forgiveness and I don't think much about it when it comes to psychoguy. My experience is that I suffered an emotional holocaust and a nuclear winter in the aftermath- so why should I even begin to think about things like forgiveness? Why should I consider it at all?


http://www.narcissism101.com/CopingwithNarcissists/forgivenessforna.html
Forgiveness for Narcissists?
-- by Stephan McDonnell
Most people who deal with a Narcissist soon find out they are like the story of Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby - the N leaves his or her sticky tarry fingers on you. Most people can ignore them. Ignore them at your own risk and peril! The N is constantly projecting his sickness onto others. The N projects his or her vision - reality - onto others so that they will mirror the N's inner turmoil. Most Ns are charming. They will manipulate, cajole, compliment you till they feel they have you in their power. What they want is for you to agree with them, then they want you to go along with whatever they say and do.


http://narc-attack.blogspot.ca/2007/12/war-and-peace-with-narcissist.html
What Make Narcissists Tick: War and Peace with the Narcissist
And so, what do you do if you cannot forgive your abuser?
What SHOULD you do? Which party is the obstacle to reconciliation here? You or your abuser?


http://www.masterjules.net/forgive.htm
FORGIVE AND FORGET. OR GRIEVE FOREVER
Today I did a google search on "collecting injustices" a fabulous old psych term Dr. Bergler used to describe people who try to get a negative payoff off blaming some evil doer. They go around grousing about evildoers at the same time sniffing down even imagined slights and virtually collecting a stack of injustices which they repeat zealously to anyone who'll listen!


http://www.sciscoop.com/2005-3-3-41324-14791.html
Narcissistic Personality Disorder And Forgiveness
-- Post by Ricky James
The researchers completed six studies that examined people’s willingness to forgive in a variety of situations, including cases from everyday life in which people were hurt or offended, hypothetical offense situations, and a laboratory-based game situation in which one subject was faced with aggressive behavior by another.


http://positiveenergyguide.com/healing/full-spectrum-forgiveness-part-13-social-appearances-inner-wounds-part-3/
Positive Energy Guide: Social Adaption Gone Awry
-- by Being Total
“Being positive” or acting “loving” can be driven by narcissism. Denying wounds drives them deeper and makes them inaccessible to healing or forgiveness.
I am going to say some things about narcissism. Please understand that this discussion is less about the disorder itself than a further commentary on the importance of owning our wounds.


http://socyberty.com/advice/forgiving-is-the-way-to-heal-from-narcissist-abuse/
Forgiving is The Way to Heal From Narcissist Abuse!
We did not deserve narcissistic abuse and we probably have a karmic duty to compensate the perpetrator for the pain and hurt that he so freely impressed up on us. But if we spend most of our time concentrating on the narcissist, on getting even or reconnecting we are affirming his perception of the victim being incapable of creating a life or better life without him.

DON'T FEEL BAD FOR LOVING YOUR MOM

We're hardwired to love our mom... A normal mother would actually protect us and look after our best interests. So that's why we, as children, were at a disadvantage. Seriously, we aren't stupid. That's how nature works.

Too bad sometimes moms aren't wasn't grown the way nature intended. With many of us, our mother is incapable of loving us. Sure she might dress us up as dolls and like us for our accomplishments, but she won't love us just because we're her children. In her world we have to earn her "love." And her love isn't real love, it's just what she thinks love is. Much like the rest of her life is a fantasy.

She's somehow pushed down all her feelings, decided she has to portray this fake image. She can't admit she's wrong, she can't admit she's not perfect. If she did it would make her like everyone else. There's something deep down inside of her that would experience tremendous pain if she just let go and admitted she was a human being.

Sometimes knowing this can make it even harder for someone to lessen or stop contact. What person in society leaves someone else behind? Where's the compassion? Where's the love? Here's the thing, though. Sometimes you can love them and have compassion for them, but you just can't be with them. You can't have a normal relationship, or feel any love or compassion or pity for them when they are in contact with you because they make you feel horrible about yourself when you get too close. It's so hard to get your head around the fact that you love this person, somehow, but they can't love you, and you can't be with them anymore because they are dangerous to be around. They sap your energy, they make you feel ill, they cause chaos, they lie. They do nothing for you and everything for themselves.

The difference between us and them... We may have recognized there was something wrong with our mother when we were younger. Maybe not all the time, but some times there would be clarity that, wow, this person who is supposed to be my mom sure doesn't act like a mom should. Maybe you grew up and moved out of the house, and away from your mom... Now you're out in the world, and a lot of people behave differently than you about certain things. For instance, there are people who love you for who you are and not for what you do. There are families who don't hold secrets and who aren't walking on eggshells. You are away from your home for a while and you feel great, but you notice when you come for a visit you start feeling bad about yourself and you are looking at your mom with new eyes.

Whatever the case may be, you and I, we've figured out something is wrong. We look for answers. We find out things and discover that because of our upbringing, we need to change ourselves and our point of view. This world isn't the way mom taught us at all! Those behaviours we learned as a child in order to survive, we don't need them anymore. We have to figure out a way to change how we view the world and how we think and react to it. Along the way, we figure out, "Hey, this wasn't ME! I thought all along it was ME but it was HER! How 'bout that!? ...Now what??!!"

And don't hate yourself for loving your mom. Don't hate yourself for not wanting to get away, and for trying to keep that bond. It's natural to feel pain and grieve when you realize that to protect yourself from her you had to leave. She pushed you away. It wasn't you. People who don't understand think there is something wrong with you, but you know the truth. Don't second-guess yourself just because the majority of children have normal mothers. Society is so hung up on the Sacred Mother being Wisdom and Nourishment and all that other lovey dovey stuff, it makes it so hard to NOT feel bad about leaving. It's such a tug back-and-forth over what you need and what you want and what you think is right and what society and other friends and family think is right (or what other people don't understand about you and what your mom is really like)...

Now we can change! And that's the biggest difference between us ACONs (Adult Children of Narcissists) and our Nparent(s). We know what's going on. We see the light. We don't deny things are wrong. We want to change. It won't be overnight, but we can begin the journey! We can stop the cycle. It doesn't have to be this way for us anymore, nor does it have to be this way for our children.

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Some quotes from the links provided below:

The mother-child bond is critical to healthy development. Love between the two is even biochemically hard-wired. We need to take note as society moves in a direction that assumes that so long as children's basic needs are met all is well. It isn't.
  During birth there is also an increase in the level of endorphins in the fetus so that in the moments following birth both mother and baby are under the effects of opiates. The role of these hormones is to encourage dependency, which ensures a strong attachment between mother and infant. In situations of failed affectional bonding between mother and baby there will be a deficiency of the appropriate hormones, which could leave a child susceptible to substance abuse in later life as the system continually attempts to right itself. You can say no to drugs, but not to neurobiology. Human brains have evolved from earlier mammals. The first portion of our brain that evolved on top of its reptilian heritage is the limbic system, the seat of emotion. It is this portion of the brain that permits mothers and their babies to bond. Mothers and babies are hardwired for the experience of togetherness. The habits of breastfeeding, co-sleeping, and babywearing practiced by the majority of mothers in non-industrialized cultures, and more and more in our own, facilitate two of the main components needed for optimal mother/child bonding: proximity and touch.

According to Sharon Heller’s book The Vital Touch, newborns will seek comfort in their mother immediately. “The human infant arrives hard-wired to seek contact with the mother. Take the newborn’s primitive reflexes. First, there is cuddling. When picked up and held, newborns mold their arms and legs into the cavity of our arms. Next there is clinging, the apparent purpose of which is to grasp mother and maintain contact.”

Science confirms what instinct has always sung in the hearts of mothers – that nature prepares mothers and babies to be able to commence their attachment as soon as the baby is born: Immediately after a natural birth, certain hormones that are part of the birth process remain at high levels within the mother’s and baby’s bodies and play a crucial role in the formation of their relationship. If this delicate balance of hormones is allowed to function in the very first moments after birth, by keeping mother and baby warm, in skin to skin contact with each other, and free of distractions, mother and baby are exquisitely, chemically, primed to fall in love with each other.

http://ezinearticles.com/?Mother-Love&id=84242
http://birthpsychology.com/free-article/birth-and-violence
http://givingbirthwithconfidence.org/2010/08/a-touch-today-for-a-better-tomorrow/
http://www.bobafamily.com/research/exterogestation-and-the-need-to-be-held/
http://defendthechildren.com/id174.html
http://mothering.com/parenting/the-science-of-mother-love
http://www.drjen4kids.com/soap%20box/normal_%20newborn.htm#.T8GX9FL4Igo
http://www.bellybelly.com.au/baby-sleep/cosleeping-is-it-part-of-bonding
http://www.mydailymoment.com/moms/parenting/mother_love.php
http://www.mother-2-mother.com/wisdom.html
http://www.babycenter.com/0_big-story-how-love-blossoms-between-you-and-your-child_1417762.bc
http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/03/07/maternal-instinct-is-wired-into-the-brain/

http://www.parentingweekly.com/pregnancy/breathingspace/vol39/pregnancy_health_fitness.asp
Is Maternal Instinct Really Instinct?

Day 3... Do I Feel Indifferent or Disgusted?

I am trying to figure out what it is I am feeling right now.

Not really feeling terrible or anything.  But something down in the depths stirs a little bit today.  I sort of have this strange feeling of indifference mixed with mild disgust.  Why?  Because I am trying to right more events about my cousin messing with me.

I know he was quite young when this started.  Definitely not a man yet.  But I hate it when my mom says "He's just a boy," and then launches into all the reasons I should feel sorry for him, or forgive him, or whatever.   Same with another aunt of his/mine.  *sigh*

So another memory that is hard to get out of my head because it's pretty much burned in there...  Is the day he stood with me on the stairs at my grandmother's house.    I think I had some kind of toy on the stairs.  My brothers had gone somewhere else, and I was playing alone.  I might be mixing up more than one memory, I'm not sure.  

He asked me if I knew what a "screw" was.  The only thing I could think of was a screwdriver, like a tool.  He said to go with him because he wanted to show me what he was talking about.

I don't know exactly how he convinced me to get into his bed in his room.  I think I had my shirt off.  I don't remember if I had my pants off.  But I was warm under his blankets.  I can't remember if he put his fingers down my underwear, I can't remember much of anything like that.  I remember the light coming through his basement windows, and wood paneling.  I remember his blankets, and he laid on top of me and I wasn't sure what he was doing to me.  He wasn't penetrating me or anything.  

I needed to get up to use the washroom.  He wouldn't let me go.  He kept pressing on my abdomen and that was decidedly uncomfortable since my bladder was quite full.  He kept telling me no, wait.  No stay here.  He almost snarled it at me.  I was thinking he was being ridiculous not letting me get up, because I might pee the bed.  It turned out he was masturbating against me, or dry-humping me, or whatever you want to call it.  I didn't really feel him ejaculate all over me, because it was warm.  It wasn't until I got out from the blankets and felt the air against this wetness all over the side of me.  There was a lot.  I was quite puzzled and somewhat grossed out.  I asked, "What IS this??"  And he just looked guilty or embarrassed and said, "I don't know." 

I ran discreetly across the hallway past the laundry room to the little bathroom.  I think it took nearly three rolls of toilet paper, if not more.  I tried to get as much as I could off with that and then I think I might have even tried a washcloth.

I don't remember what happened after that.  I think it was close to supper time as I seem to remember my mom's voice calling to me from upstairs somewhere, and I answered her about something.  I don't remember if he told me not to tell anyone, but I must not have said anything...  All I remember, ending off that memory, is me wiping and wiping this sticky gluey substance from around my back, to down my side to around the front of me.  I might have been angry, but it was because I had to use so much toilet paper and it was such a mess.  Otherwise, the whole experience is rather vague to me, other than the before and after part.

Not sure what to feel about this memory.  Waiting a bit, closed my eyes even, taking slow deep breaths... 

Deep down, I feel somewhat bad for falling for this curious thing he was describing to me.  But how could I have known what he was going to do to me?   It feels confusing and I feel maybe... Some pain I guess.  Why did he do that to me?  What made him choose me?  Where did he learn that?  Who taught him?  Apparently he might have been groomed for this...  By who, his mom (my alcoholic aunt) or some of her boyfriends?  Where did he get this from? 

Any feeling I concentrate on seems kind of muted.  Not sure if it's because it's so long ago, or if it's something I am not allowing to come out.  I want to stand up and say "Manifest!"  "Show yourself!!"  "What are you, which feeling?"  "Identify yourself!!"

I do want to hit him.  I remember after I figured out this was all wrong wrong wrong.  I climbed a tree in the backyard at my grandparents' house, to hide from him.  Earlier in the week or that day, I think I finally had rejected him.  He was on the ground with my female cousin of the same age as me.  I had rejected him and had seen him taking her into the closet with him this time.  I don't know if he did that all along, I don't know if he did that to get back at me somehow.  I don't know if I was jealous, but I knew it was wrong.  I had knocked on the door of the closet and told them I knew where they were and what they were doing.  Sure enough she comes out and says, "I just have to find my panties."  I think I was angry.  I don't remember what my other cousin who was messing with her said or did or how he looked.  I just remember him walking out from behind her, and I watched her as she looked for her underwear.  I didn't tell on them.  I wasn't sure what to do.

But then later I was up that tree.  I told him I didn't want him near me.  He tried to climb up the tree but I would stomp down on his fingers if he got close to me.  He retreated down again.  I felt triumphant.  I told him if he didn't leave me alone I would tell on him.  He said, "For what?"  And I said, "You know what. For what you and (my female cousin) were doing in the closet."  At which point he tried to hush me and pointed out that gramma was in the kitchen across from the branches I was in.  I said I don't care, so stay away from me.  I think I won that day.  Bastard.  I won!

Still don't know how I feel about it, or why I don't feel much about it right now.

The 2nd day: More Stuff I'd Rather Forget

At least I am not remembering every night and day like I was when I was a child and adolescent.  

I remember being in the middle of an inane activity (school, test, playground, home, friend's house, outside, playing with other kids in the neighbourhood, trying to sleep at night, walking home from school, whatever) and just seemingly random images or thoughts or senses of times where my cousin was with me under a blanket or in a closet.  Made me almost freeze in what I was doing, I think, sometimes.   It was like you'd be walking along an a branch whips you in the face or you step wrong in a hole in the ground or you're minding your own business and a horsefly takes off with a little chunk of your skin...  Abrupt and not pleasant.  Jarring.  Most times I would try to shake it off, try to do something else to distract myself.   Some of the things that seemed to free me of these thoughts were drawing or reading or watching movies or television.  Occupying my mind in some other world away from this one.  I hated it when these images popped into my brain.  I didn't ask for them to come up.  They just did.  I never thought about them long.  They would just be stuffed down, under a carpet somewhere in my brain.  Move on to something else quickly.  Please make it go away.  It made me angry and frustrated if I did think about it, which was why I desperately tried not to.  At some point I think it got easier to override these thoughts.  Pretend they weren't there.  Cover them up.  Listen to music and read the lyrics.  

So...  Next memory please.  Let's make this fast so I can move on to the next indigestible course.   I would so much rather be doing anything else right now.  Drinking my own body fluids for one thing.

Scene cuts back to the closet at gramma's house.  Mom's mom's house.  Winter?  Summer?  It was usually Easter, Christmas, Summer Break, Thanksgiving, some kind of long weekend.  Me, my two brothers, mom and dad would go to Edmonton to visit.  Who was there as long as I can remember?  My two cousins, Ward and Shelley.  Shelley seemed nice.  Artsy and crafty like me.  A teacher now.  Ward...  I don't know what he was the warden of.  He was no protector, that's certain.

Trying to remember how I felt.  It's hard to figure.  It was pitch black in that closet.  We were playing hide and seek (of course).  At some point my cousin had figured out that the closet was so dark that if you didn't move when someone opened the door or tried to bluff and say you were in there (even if they couldn't tell) then they'd likely move on to look for you elsewhere.  It was so dark, I think my younger brothers were probably a bit scared to poke around in there.  Full of black garbage bags filled with clothes on the floor, and a great amount of clothing hanging like a semi-solid cloth wall that was hard to move out of the way. 

It so happened that I went to hide in the closet and so did my cousin while my brothers or other cousins played hide and seek.  I can't remember if he would come in after I would, or if would follow him in.  I don't remember if he said something like, "Come hide with me in the closet."  I just know, somehow, some way, more than once (I don't know how many times, but it was a lot of times), that he and I would be together in this closet.  He would put his hands down my shorts/pants.  He would stimulate me.  He would either ask me (tell me?) to grasp his penis.  I don't remember if I did anything else to it.  I remember feeling the physical pleasure of his fingers on my genital area, or maybe it was just stimulation.  I don't know how to describe it, that I felt some physical pleasure, but I didn't know what to make of it.   I don't remember feeling guilty about it.  I don't remember feeling dirty about it.  That all came later on as I grew up. 

I remember feeling terrible much later, especially during high school.  Horrid.  Disgusting.  What the hell was I thinking?  I don't remember asking myself, "Why did he do this to me?" but more like, "Why did I let him do that to me?"  But mostly I remember trying not to think about it.  Reading reading reading.  Block it out.  Go away.  I sure as hell didn't struggle to get away.  Now I feel bad that I didn't.  I don't think I knew what to feel when I was a child when it was being done to me.  Now, as an adult, I feel some guilt that I didn't kick and scream and tell him not to touch me.  I wish I hadn't been afraid of what would happened to me if I had told.  I thought I would get into trouble again.  I thought I would be punished.  I thought I would not be believed.  I do remember crying a lot, in general, when people didn't believe me about other things.  I felt greatly offended and wounded when I would tell the truth but I was thought to be lying or not knowing what I was talking about.  Sometimes I would even be upset when I did lie and people wouldn't believe me.  Why can my cousin pretend things are fine and get away with it and I can't?  What's so special about him?  Why do people love him but not me?  What about me?

Sometime along the way as I was growing up, I realized that what he was doing was wrong.  My mom said some things to my tentative questioning about things.  I can't remember exactly what I asked.  I don't remember exactly what she replied.  However when she replied it was like she was disgusted or angry and  my interpretation of  her emotional reaction made me fearful.  I seem to remember she tried to get more information out of me, but I avoided it.  She didn't pursue questioning later, either, so I doubt she really wanted to know.  All I knew from what she said was that I was doing something bad.  I wasn't allowed to do that.   I didn't know how to stop it. 

He would do things to manipulate me.  Pissed me off.   My mom made me nap in his room once, and he snuck in with something crinkly.  I was pretending to sleep.  I think he probably knew that.  Why would he make all that crinkly racket if he knew I was put in there to sleep and he was trying to hide his gumballs from me?  I went and chewed a couple of them after he had left.   I thought, he will let me get away with this because of what he's doing to me.  Isn't he afraid that if he tells on me, I will tell on him?  But then I thought, uh-oh, it's going to be obvious that I did this.  I don't know why I had a change of heart (guilty conscience, or second thoughts, maybe I would get into trouble?).  I didn't know what to do, so I took out the half-chewed gum and put it back in the drawer.  Silly.  Several hours later my mom called me and asked me why I had done this.  I said I didn't know.  Because I couldn't tell her the real reason.  I was surprised that he had tattled on me.  ME!  After what he did to ME!  I thought he owed me at least a couple of measly gumballs.  Apparently he had some great satisfaction about this.  His face told me that he was victorious.  He had told me no one would believe me if I told on him.  But here he was saying that I had done something wrong.  HIM getting ME into trouble.  I think it enraged me.  How dare he?  And I think on some level it was a bit frightening.  It reinforced to me that he had power over me.  He could make the other adults believe him.  He could get them to punish me.  I felt powerless.  Oh was I so mad.  He was so clever.  I felt so stupid.

Then he would do strange things like take me to the store and buy me candy.  What the hell?  So confusing to me.  Was he giving me this as a gift to make up for what he did?  I can't even remember if it stopped.  Was he trying to bribe me?  Keep my mouth shut?  I don't know.  I didn't have the courage to ask him.  My parents and my grandparents thought he was being so sweet.  I knew he wasn't really sweet.  He was like the candy he left in his room for me to find.  He was a trap.  I could fall in. 

Right now I feel angry.  I feel that sort of burning feeling behind the eyes, but not enough to start tears.  Just a sort of gentle pressure.  It all feels subdued.  It's all in the past, and that's where it seems to want to stay.

Feel feel feel.  Ugh.  I woke up a couple of times last night with my heart palpitating.  Not sure if it was thyroid-related, or because of my purging on my blog last night.  The pain in my chest woke me up twice, but then dissipated and I fell back to sleep. 

I don't remember how many times he touched me or all the locations or events.  But I hated that closet.

Remembering things I don't want to... Therapy Exercise

CAUTION!  Possible TRIGGERS!

*sigh*

I'm going to start by scratching the surface...

Closest memories...

My brothers and I were at home, my cousin who molested me was there.  I don't know who thought up this idea, but my brothers were ecstatic.  My cousin didn't molest them, though.  He preferred little girls, apparently.

I can't help but remember a few things about this visit.  I would have had to have been August 8: "A tornado touches down in Regina, Saskatchewan, causing damage in the northwest end of the city."  Except we were in the East End and there was some damage there...  But that sounds about right... That was the summer of 1979 so I would have been turning 9 that December.  More info here http://pcag.uwinnipeg.ca/Prairie-Perspectives/PP-Vol04/McInnis.pdf on page 111 -- "Normanview in the northwest and Glencairn in the east were the areas of Regina hit hardest by the storm."

This information creeps me out because at first I couldn't remember the exact age I was experiencing this molestation.  At one point in my life I had thought it was only from about age 5 until about age 7, but apparently this was not the case... So it chills me a bit that this abuse may have continued on even longer than I first thought. 

I guess I should at least be grateful that it wasn't every day, because if our family lived in Edmonton, or visited my grandparents there more often, it would probably have been a lot more frequent.  As it was my grandparents adopted my cousins from my aunt.  She was, to say the least, a terrible alcoholic.  My mom didn't even tell us about her.  We were kind of uninformed as to how my cousins came to be living at my grandparents.  I kind of thought they were like permanent residents, I didn't really question why they weren't staying with their own family.  Turns out, I found out much later in my life, that they were rescued from abuses and sights too terrible to be discussed.  Sounded like he was in therapy, but I wasn't sure what that was, other than my understanding was that crazy people (whatever that meant) who needed to get well talked to someone who was sort of like a doctor in a quiet office somewhere.   I imagined it was sort of like a library, for some reason.  Except smaller and stuffier and maybe no windows.  Not sure why I had this image in my head.

I remember at one point during this visit that this terrible weather was falling upon us.  The wind was picking up and my dad herded us all into the house.  We could see the sky was very very dark on one side and very light on the other.  It was like night and day, and night was coming up fast.  At some point my cousin dared me.  He said that he bet that I couldn't handle going outside, that I was too scared or something.  Wow, he was a master-manipulator, and knew what buttons to push.  I reacted instantaneously.  I didn't think about the wind (I certainly didn't know it was a tornado) I just thought, "I'll show him I'm not scared."   I went outside and immediately realized that wasn't the brightest idea.  Because of all the gravel I could feel pelting me... Or it might have been hail.  It felt like stones, though, and dirt was getting in my face. I saw my cousin try to open the door and call me back into the house, but I couldn't hear him very well.  And the wind and these pelting little bullets from the ground going sideways pushed me to the side of the east side of the house, between the garage and house.  There was some shelter from the wind there, but then I was somewhat alarmed to see bits of large debris flying past, included a large paint can that seemed to lift right off the ground and float for a few seconds above the fenceline and then swing off with a big clatter somewhere else in the neighbour's back yard. 

So I remembered something about hiding under a sturdy structure whenever there was a tornado (probably from watching some movie or TV miniseries or something or maybe The Wizard of Oz)...  I hid under the picnic table and waited for someone to come and get me.  I thought my cousin would get into big trouble for taunting me into going outside.

My dad came out and dragged me back into the house.  I didn't mean to worry him, but he was a bit angry with me.  I can't remember if I protested but I thought I tried to explain.  I don't remember him reacting on my cousin.  But I was glad he came and got me back in the house.  The whole outside went completely grey with dirt and dust, and we saw sheds and various toys flying down the street.  The windows rattled.  The noise was deafening.

That was what I remember about that particular day.

I wish that was the only memory I had of that week. 

We have photos of my cousin making really tall skyscrapers with lego.  He would slowly build higher and higher from a larger base until the lego started to tilt.  He tried to make it as tall as the ceiling in the basement, and at least once he got it high enough to run out of lego.  It was taller than him, anyway.

I still don't like looking at those photos.  His eyes always look creepy to me for some reason.  Especially when the flash is being used.  He always seemed to be looking directly into the photo so that his eyes would glow that nice red or bright yellow.  Who does that?  Unless they are trying to say, "I'm not afraid.  Take a picture of me.  I have nothing to hide."  Because when they behave like that, it means they do have something to hide.  It's like taunting.  Like "I've got a secret and you'll never find out."  Maybe I just have an overactive imagination.

I didn't imagine what he did to me though.  I don't know how we ended up on the floor in the basement of my house.  I don't know where my brothers went.  He always seemed to mastermind things, or look for windows of opportunity and this was no different.  When they left the room he went up and shut the light off.  I can't recall if he shut the door, but I think so.  I can't remember if we were under a sleeping bag, but that seemed to be one of his favourite covers (no pun intended)...  Whenever we were all playing at my gramma's in her basement, somehow this big sleeping bag magically appeared and we'd all go under it: my two brothers, me, my cousin.  Then he would sneak kisses under the covers.  I hated those.  Right on the lips.

This time, I don't remember all that he was doing, or how I got there.  I just remember his hands down my pants (shorts?)...  He might have even pulled them down to my ankles.  Because he asked me if I wanted him to go down "there" and start kissing or licking "it."  I remember saying I thought that was gross.  Any thought of a person's mouth down by where they went to the bathroom sounded disgusting to me.  What did you expect?  I was 8 years old. Thankfully he didn't try that.  What he did try was to insert his finger into my vagina.  He was quite persistent about that.  The problem was he wasn't putting it into my vagina, he was trying to put it into my urethra.  That hurt.  And I remember him trying multiple times to do that, and I kept protesting because it hurt.  I think I almost started crying, and that's when he stopped, finally.  Didn't want me to make a fuss because my mom would hear us, I suspect.  In fact that could be why we moved from the floor to where he was set up for sleep in the basement.

There was an old frame that was pretty spent, so that it bowed in the middle.  So if you had people playing hide and seek and hiding in the middle of this bed frame with the other mattress on top (and this is probably when my cousin figured this out) it would look like a normal mattress.  No one would really catch on that someone was under the top mattress because, instead of stuffing and springs, it was people in there.  So we went under the mattress.  And he continued his workings on me.  Mostly with his fingers working on my clitoris and labia.  He never really brought me to any climax ever.  He just stimulated me.  I think I just went somewhere else in my mind while he was doing this...  I seem to remember feeling some pleasure with this stimulation, but yet it seemed far away.  Perhaps I was numbing it out of my mind, but my body was still experiencing the stimulation.  Does that make sense?  I had never done this to myself or by myself.  I don't think I knew what was going on. 

My mother came looking for me.  She was calling to me from upstairs. My cousin froze.  He told me to be very very quiet.  I think I actually got the sense that he was scared, which I had never witnessed in him before, and it surprised me.  Come to think of it, I don't know if he displayed much emotion to begin with.  I don't remember him crying.  I remember him being angry or petulant or just bland.  I don't remember him being anything other than sly and conniving, but almost like it was a game.  It was like playing with dolls.  Except I was the doll.   

My mother opened the door of the basement.  I couldn't see her.  I could hear her calling my name though.  I started to reply (something made me want to call back... Maybe a child/mother instinct?)...  That's when my cousin clamped his hand over my mouth.  And nose.  I could barely breathe but he was urgent about me keeping my mouth shut.  Almost to the point of exploding.  But he had to be quiet, too.  He barely whispered, almost mouthing, "WHAT are you DOING?  Don't MOVE!" or something like that.  My mom must have thought she heard me, but she didn't come down the stairs.  Maybe she thought my cut-off call had come from outside.  Maybe she didn't want to come downstairs and knew something about my cousin that made her afraid to search me out.  Why wouldn't she come down those damn stairs and find us under that mattress?  She heard me, or she wouldn't have called out again.   I don't remember what my cousin did afterward, but we lay quite still for what seemed like an eternity, with his hand still on my mouth.  I think I had convinced him to let me breath through my nose (which was already hard as I was always stuffed up)...  And I don't remember anything after that.  He may have told me not to tell anyone.  I don't remember.  I just remember moments.  Fragments...

Right now, how do I feel?  I feel my neck and shoulders are tensed up a bit.  I notice while I am trying to remember these details that my breathing becomes more shallow, especially during the time when I was writing about him clamping his hand over my mouth.  When my breathing got shallow my heart started beating faster.  This kind of reminds me what used to happen almost every night for months (was it years?) when I was a kid, lying in bed in the dark.  I would wake up...  I would feel the bed shake (probably a train) and I would hold my breath to see if it would still shake.  I was trying to be still, so still.  It was scaring me.  Something bad was going to happen to me, I was bad, I was going to die, punishment.  Call out for mom.  Mom would come down, turn on the hall light.  I think she hugged me.  A couple of times she would ask if there is something I needed to tell her, something that would make me afraid of the dark, something that made me cry?  I was too scared to tell her.  Shook my head desperately.  No no no.  Just needed some light.  Dark was scary.  But it was more in my body, I could feel something bad happening when it was dark that I couldn't feel during the day.  Racing heart, pounding in my ears, terror, don't move.   If I don't move maybe whatever it is won't kill me for being so bad.  I would pray to someone, maybe God, "If you don't kill me, I promise I would be good for the rest of my life."  No arguing, no back-talk, do whatever mom says.  Just make this fear go away.

*sigh* deep breath....

Doing some stretching between this posting and afterward and cuddling with my dog seems to help.  I feel something way down, not quite tears.  I am sad.  I don't know if I feel angry.  It's all very quiet, like something is blocking that from coming out.  Maybe if I try some more tomorrow.  I feel I can calm down a bit now, with sufficient time to relax before I go to bed this evening.

New Mission

So I have returned from my therapist today, bleary-eyed and determined...

I want to dig deep and remember and write down what happened... What my feelings were... With my sexual abuse...

It is so hard to let those feelings come to the surface...

But I meant to go back and read what I wrote about my abuser.  My older cousin did some things to me.  I may have removed the information from this website simply because I wanted to focus on NPD and less on the Pedophile.

Now I will have to bring this stuff out again.  Fresh.  I will try to do this when no one is home.  I will try to do this on my own so I can process it without feeling I need to protect my husband.