Thursday, June 18, 2009

Vindication.

9:32 AM by Christi Bowman

My oldest home-schooler and I are in Matthew 17 this week.

• ^1-3 Six days later, three of them saw that glory. Jesus took Peter and the brothers, James and John, and led them up a high mountain. His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. Sunlight poured from his face. His clothes were filled with light. Then they realized that Moses and Elijah were also there in deep conversation with him.
• ⁴Peter broke in, "Master, this is a great moment! What would you think if I built three memorials here on the mountain-one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah?"
• ⁵While he was going on like this, babbling, a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and sounding from deep in the cloud a voice: "This is my Son, marked by my love, focus of my delight. Listen to him."
  

What vindication!!!

I must admit that I LONG for vindication. David screamed for vindication in the Psalms so I am unashamed of my desire for it! On Wednesday I wrote about my wish for God to be in me like He was in Jesus...

Wouldn't it be so neat if God were to orchestrate a meeting with my parents in which He enveloped us all in a cloud and then said about me...

"This is my daughter, marked by my love, focus of my delight. Listen to her."

But then again...Jesus did not take his enemies to His transfiguration did He?

Ecclesiastes 3:1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven

I Corinthians 15:51 ...we shall all be changed.

Labels: vindication

0 comments - Permalink -

Sinking.

8:00 AM by Christi Bowman

My husband and I did some Christian counseling in Iowa on Monday. They asked why we had come and after I told them my story they asked if the counselors I had seen here, in Illinois, had reported the abuse to the authorities. I was shocked by the question. Throughout this whole process I have never once allowed myself to entertain the possibility of prosecution.

On the same day we drove to Iowa I also received an email from my father. He had contacted my abuser. My abuser's wife denied all allegations while incriminating themselves at the same time. My parents, as usual, made it clear that they were going to believe my abusers instead of me and even allowed a friendship to reignite with them in the process.

After my father made it clear that if I could not prove any abuse then I and my allegations were worthless, I was devastated. After our visit to Iowa, for the first time, I was given hope that I just might be able to prove the abuse I had endured. My husband and I went home and looked up California law. What we found was confusing, but we did manage to get a phone number for the San Diego police department.

I nervously dialed the San Diego police department on Wednesday and they gave me the number to the sex crimes unit. I once again dialed the number. I explained my situation and was directed to a Sargent. He asked for my story and then he dashed all of my hopes; sexual abuse has a twenty year statute of limitations in California. I am seven years past any hope of an investigation.

After the phone call ended I was thrown into a deep depression. I hurt so bad. I asked God why it must hurt like this and His answer was convicting. I had put my hope in the police department. In that moment I knew what Peter must have felt like as he quickly sunk into the water as soon as he took his eyes off of Jesus. I sunk today and it has taken me a while to recover.

Labels: abuse

3 comments - Permalink -

 

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

A Limp.

8:45 AM by Christi Bowman

Some people live in a constant state of physical pain...for others the constant reminder that this world is fallen is much more prevalent on an emotional level.

I have a thorn in my soul. I walk around with a gigantic gaping wound that bleeds profusely and yet everyday I must get up and walk around; most days I must put one foot in front of the other as if the wound is not really there...and that is hard to do...and so I limp.

To the naked average eye I am no worse for the wear, but I am not the same person that I was even one short month ago. Life is different with a constant ever present wound even if the puss that oozes from it stays tucked away deep down under the surface of my skin.

I find that in this constant state of agony I am more sympathetic towards humanity as a whole, but I am much less fond of being alive. This world has lost its wonder...its intrigue. I feel as though I am standing silently by as life's appeal melts before my very eyes.

In this state I think often of God clothed in skin, and on some level I know that what God did in Jesus is so much more profound than we as mere human beings posses the depth to realize.

JESUS BEAT THIS PLACE!!

Sometimes I find myself wishing God would help me as much as He helped Jesus.

0 comments - Permalink -

 

Thursday, June 11, 2009

'The Wounded Heart': A book review of sorts

12:40 PM by Christi Bowman

I just finished 'The Wounded Heart,' a book with sexual abuse as its subject matter; it was very sensitively written by Dr. Dan B. Allender. 'The Wounded Heart' was not easy to read; at times I found myself sickened to the point of literal nausea as I found in its pages, my story, written with disturbing eloquence. Even with its difficult content, I highly recommend it to those who have suffered abuse, of any type, in their lifetime; I would also recommend it to those who do not have abuse in their past, but would like to better understand those people who do.

These are a few of my highlights:

"In most cases, sexual abuse is not an event that occurs out of the blue...by someone who lurks in the bushes. Only eleven percent of all sexual abuse is perpetrated by a stranger. The vast majority of sexual abuse occur in relationship with a family member (29%) or with a known non family member (60%)." pg 86

"Many abuse victims are prone to deny the shortcomings of their own homes. The most obvious reason is that whatever was typical is viewed as normal. Chances are, however, that the two factors that are essential to a happy home were absent in the victim's. The first factor is a sense of being enjoyed for who one is rather than for what one does. Many abuse victims were enjoyed for being the adultified child, but that kind of appreciation leaves the hungry heart untouched. A second factor is a respect of one's being that permits opportunity to develop uniqueness and separateness from other members of the family.

The role distortion tears away a child's childhood and replaces it with adult burdens that are too heavy to lift, but must be carried if the child is to enjoy any benefits of life or love in the dysfunctional home. The forsaking of childhood begins the long process of giving up the soul in order to taste a few crumbs of life.

The role confusion is further complicated by repeated violations of the child's boundaries and individual rights. Boundaries are appropriate lines that rightfully separate one's inner and outer world from the domain of others. They provide a sense of uniqueness and independence and help a person orient who he or she is in contrast to who others are." (pg 87 & 88)

"A person who has been abused will likely have grave difficulty comprehending the boundary issues that many of us take for granted. The right to decide within limits what we wear to work or school, where we worship, or whether we have the freedom to say no to a request are issues that are often confusing for those who have not been allowed to form and experiment with their own boundary choices.

Other boundary violations occur when a parent tells a child that her feelings are wrong, crazy, or nonexistent...The denial or rejection of emotions or thoughts violate the privacy and sanctity of a child's inner world. A child likely will question the validity of her perception, making the cost of trusting her intuition exorbitantly high.

So far the home of the victim has produced relational hunger, a sense of being needed but nevertheless demeaned, while making it difficult for the child to trust her perceptions and feelings. The atmosphere is also demanding, conservative, and rule bound. The highest family value is loyalty: always faithful, no matter the cost, to protect the family from attack and shame. The hook is often put deep into the child's psyche: "No one will love you but me. If you tell anyone what goes on in this home, I will die, or you will lose all opportunity to find love. You won't be believed. People will hate you, doubt you, and blame you for hurting your parents." Seldom are the words spoken so clearly. The unstated rule is assumed and infused into the family psyche like flouride in the public water system.

The scene is set for abuse. The child is (to some degree) empty, alone, committed to pleasing, boundary-less, burdened, and bound to a family or a parent whose desire becomes the bread of hope for the hungry child. The two key words are empty and dependent." (pg 88 & 89)

"A parent does not need to know about or suspect sexual abuse to betray a child. A third form of nonoffending betrayal comes as a result of the victim having no place to turn once abuse has occurred because of the parent's character weakness.

In all three forms of nonoffending betrayal the parent(s) chose the route of personal comfort or self-protection over the parental privilege and responsibility of providing a safe environment for their child. The damage may vary due to the type and intensity of betrayal, but in all cases the damage will be profound." pg 124

Both of my parents admit to knowing that something was not right. While I was asking my mom about some of the memories I was having she stated that she knew I was not fond of the home where daycare was provided but it was her opinion that I just did not like discipline. Much more recently my dad also acknowledged his awareness that my abuser was indeed an abusive person but he said that the abuser was to well known in our church community and my dad did not want to risk his reputation by "rocking the boat." My parents definitely chose the route of personal comfort and self protection.

"When a victim of sexual abuse feels powerless, she will see herself as weak and incompetent. When she feels betrayed, her core image will reflect these questions: "Why did the abuser treat me so badly? Why was I not loved and protected?"

Many men and women have wept angry tears over the fact that their parents spent more time washing the car, tending the garden, or perfecting a golf swing than facing and dealing with their wounded heart." (pg 130)

For my mom it was her job she cared for more than my wounded heart, and for my dad it was sports, mostly via the television, and sci fi.

"The experience of being used and discarded provokes images of being undesirable and ugly...It should come as no surprise, then, that someone who has been sexually abused will develop strong contempt and obsessive self-consciousness about his or her body." (pg 130)

"The normal work of the Holy Spirit produces crippled warriors who are used because of their brokenness, weakness, and powerlessness, and not because their struggle-free existence draws good press and large crowds

God's path is paradoxical. We are drawn to Christ because we want life, and life more abundant. He gives us life that leads to abundance via brokenness, poverty, persecution, and death. The life he invites us to lead causes us to lose ourselves so that we can find ourselves, to lose our life so that we can have life. The servants He often uses are young, ill-equipped, and unwilling. The path He takes His servants on in unexpected, perilous, and often unchosen. The scriptures promise ultimate health and wealth, but the path to such enjoyment is not what most of us envision or naturally choose. Paul was left with his "thorn in the flesh,"his path included untold suffering, poverty, and trial, and his earthly life ended with his execution as a sacrifice poured out for our sake. The specifics of Paul's life may not be ours, but the path of weakness and foolishness is the same, if we want to live out the call of Christ." (pg 147)

The battle continues. The growing man or woman will continue to drink deeply from the cup of honesty, repentance, and bold love. Each cycle in the process will strengthen conviction, weaken contempt, and dependent he hunger for more God.

Some days the taste of life will be bitter. Other days it will be sweeter than any honey and more intoxicating than any wine. Drinking from the water that wells up to eternal life will satisfy more deeply than words can express. The few rich tastes of God-given joy are worth the long, hard work of dealing with memories, rage, lonliness, and fear. In so doing we wmulate Paul as a drink-offering, poured out for the sake of our friends, family, and strangers, as we eagerly await Christ's return and the crown of righteousness well worth the battle fought and endured." (pg 230 & 231)

Labels: abuse, healing

1 comments - Permalink -

 

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

He has Overcome!

4:48 PM by Christi Bowman

My oldest daughter and I read a chapter in the Bible and then she picks a verse that stands out to her and she writes it down. This is a reading and writing assignment for home school. She has chosen to read through Matthew, and this week has brought us to chapter 16.

Today my heart was pierced and laid open as I read verses 8-11:

You surely don't have much faith! Why are you talking about not having any bread? ⁹Don't you understand? Have you forgotten about the five thousand people and all those baskets of leftovers from just five loaves of bread? ¹⁰And what about the four thousand people and all those baskets of leftovers from only seven loaves of bread? ¹¹Don't you know by now that I am not talking to you about bread?

Fretting about the "little" things equals little faith. It is hard to keep from fretting about the "little" things. When the "little" things are fret worthy they do not seem so little.

Jesus asked them why they were worried about bread; then He asked them to remember the other two times when bread had been the problem. The lack of bread was not what Jesus wanted to be talking about, but He took the time to point out that their worry over bread was worthless for He had already overcome it, twice.

In John He tells us not to worry for He has overcome the world (John 16:33.)

HE HAS OVERCOME THE WORLD!!

I cannot begin to comprehend what that means. But I hear Him asking me as He did His disciples...

"Don't you understand??"

Labels: faith, John, Matthew, overcoming

0 comments - Permalink -

 

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Buried Treasure.

3:36 PM by Christi Bowman

"And this I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge (greek: discernment) and in all judgment (greek: perception); That ye may approve things that are excellent (greek: differ, surpass, more value)...Being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God." ~ Philippians 1:9-10a-11 ~

As our love abounds we become more discerning and perceptive so that we may approve (or allow) things that differ, things that surpass, and things that are of more value.

I like word studies, it is like searching for buried treasure.

I have a very generous orthodoxy. I accept things as true that would make many of my institutional church brothers and sisters cringe, but I like the fruit.

Verses like Philippians 1:9 & 10 make me extremely happy as I feel they give me permission to go deeper and believe in a much more compassionate Jesus.

Labels: generous orthodoxy

0 comments - Permalink -

 

Monday, June 8, 2009

Ruin or Salvation?

4:27 PM by Christi Bowman

I am learning, in a hands on sort of way, that the words enemy/adversary are not necessarily evil nor do they only stand for evil people. An enemy/adversary can be someone who opposes you over a long period of time or just for a moment. An enemy/adversary can be a family member, a friend, an acquaintance.

My parents have become my adversaries. They are not evil people. They are hurting me, but I am choosing to believe that it is not malicious. They firmly believe that what they say and the expectations that they have are right. I disagree.

My parents are choosing to not speak to me right now, and although I am choosing to not see their behavior as malicious, there actions still cause me a lot of grief. I continue to second guess myself. I could call my parents, sweep things under the rug, and go back to the way things were, but maintaining the status quo would be unhealthy. Still, knowing that I could end this polarization with a phone call, at times, seems like the best option...and then I read a few verses in Philippians (1:6 & 28-29) and I know that God is with me.

I am unable to resolve relations with my family at this time and it feels like a big gaping wound that will not heal, but I am right where He wants me to be and there is grace in this place.

"He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ:

And in nothing terrified by your adversaries: which is to them an evident token of perdition, but to you of salvation, and that of God.

For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake;"

When people clash it may seem to your adversary like you are ruined or lost (perdition) but in all actuality what looks like your ruin or loss to men, is your salvation to God.

My parents cannot fathom that being outside a relationship with them just might be my salvation. They can only view me and my decisions as wrong or bad. This face off of sorts is so very painful but verse 29 of Philippians 1 says that we are to suffer for His sake.

God is doing something within my family right now. He is doing something within me. He is faithful and He will finish what He started. If, while He is finishing what He started, things, for a time, look bleak, who am I to halt the process just so that I may feel better for a few moments?

What looks like loss and ruin is my salvation through suffering.

Labels: Philippians 1

2 comments - Permalink -

 

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Healthy Behavior.

3:27 PM by Christi Bowman

A few weeks ago I was having a private conversation with my husband in our room after he had come home from his work day. We were once more talking about what I have been going through. The good, responsible, kind, and considerate mom part of me did not want the kids to hear any of what was being talked about, so I did not want them hanging out in the hall way or interrupting. There was also a selfish side of me that just wanted to get my thoughts and feelings out of my own head and so wanted to be heard without interruption.

Our first born was having none of it. I heard her footsteps in the hall way and so geared myself up to be very firm with her as she entered our room. She started to talk, and mid word I rudely interrupted her and asked her to go elsewhere until we were done, and not interrupt again. She kept opening her mouth to speak and I kept cutting her off until God silenced me. Finally I let her finish and after that she walked out of the room; she did not interrupt again.

As I watched her disappear I was amazed at the insight I had received.

I see my first born as a little version of me. I do not see my middle child or my baby in such a way. Because I see my first born in this way, just watching her can trigger all sorts of childhood memories. As my minds eye watched her continue to interrupt as I continued to cut her off God was showing me that she was healthy. If I were to do that sort of thing to my parents, my dad especially would have eventually gotten up and yelled in my face all sorts of threats and possibly lifted his hand at me until I coward and slithered away.

Although I was rude to her and continued to shut her down every single time she tried to get a word out, God allowed me to realize that she did not fear us and in that respect she and I have a much more healthy relationship than my parents and I ever did. I was relieved, and as she walked away I began telling my husband about my insight. I admitted that I did not know what healthy child behavior looked like because I never was a healthy child. In light of that insight I could admit that sometimes I find myself squashing the healthy out of my children because healthy child like behavior at best makes me uncomfortable and at worst down right scares me.

"At best, awareness of the motivation behind behavior reveals the web of our fallen desire and creates a desperate need for God's intervention to rescue us from such a dark maze.

Insight alone does not provide the impetus to change destructive behavior; it only creates a context for more fervent repentance. At its worst, and understanding of motivation may lead to fascinating intrigue, self absorptive introspection, and focus away from issues of sin, salvation, and sanctification. The solution of course, resides in the heart of the explorer. The person who plaintively cries out from her core, "Lord, see if there be any secret, harmful way in me," will eventually be blessed with a picture of her sin and God's nurturing provision of grace. The one who explores human motivation out of an ultimate desire to explain away the horror of sin or the profound need for a Savior will pleasantly ruminate about motivation without conviction or change."
~ Dr. Allender "The Wounded Heart" pg. 78

Labels: abuse, awareness, healthy behavior

0 comments - Permalink -

 

Monday, June 1, 2009

Rejection

12:09 PM by Christi Bowman

One of my favorite books is "The Shack." The author, (William P. Young) describes the Christian God as being "especially fond" of everyone, even those people that Christians themselves find distasteful and worthy of exclusion; people such as rappers with questionable lyrics, abusers, and murderers.

Since reading "The Shack", I have made "God being especially fond of everyone" my mantra as I seek to bring into reality what I believe to be true in my heart of hearts. I have found myself quite upset with my parents over the last three weeks and reminding myself that God is especially fond of them has kept me centered on love and not on bitterness.

In "The Wounded Heart,"Dr. Allender says:

"If we have acknowledged God as the One, and the only One, who has the power to determine our acceptability, then we will feel only grief, not shame over loss or disappointment."

Last night even as I viewed my broken parents as people who God is especially fond of I allowed myself to grieve their present rejection and the older rejection of theirs and others that I have had to face my entire life.

I have a long list of people who have rejected me in the past:

• My day care providers rejected me as a person of worth.
• My parents threatened rejection when I told them I did not like them.
• My parents once again threatened rejection if I did not stop acting out my abuse on others.
• My peers rejected me quite often as I was awkward from being the victim of abuse.
• My dad rejected me as a girl.
• My mom rejected me as fat when she put me on numerous diets as a child.
• My dad rejected me as overweight when his nickname for me was "tubby tina"
• My dad rejected my developing body as he said "ew" to every development
• My step maternal Grandmother rejected me when I was overweight...her comments when she saw me once a year were unbearable.
• My Paternal Grandmother rejected me just because of who I was
• My paternal aunt rejected me by calling me a brat every time she saw me.
• My parents flat out rejected me when I began seeking solace in "questionable" friends and illegal substances because of all the pain above.
• Boys rejected me after I gave them what they wanted (I had to pretend that casual sex was what I wanted or risk rejection.)

After all this rejection I met my husband and quit the illegal substances, but I continued to use alcohol to hide who I really was because whenever I had exposed myself for who I really was in the past I was always met with rejection.

After giving up alcohol and other addictions that helped to hide the real me I found that sobriety was a nightmare because I began having to face rejection all over again.

• I was rejected by several people at the institutional church we used to attend.
• I felt rejected, whether perceived or real, from a person at AIM who I had tremendous respect for.
• I was rejected by a couple from our house church.
• And I am once again being rejected by my parents as I show them who I really am.

There is only so much rejection that a person can face sober. It is hard to maintain your identity in the face of all this rejection. As I grieved all of this rejection I asked my husband why he had not rejected me. I told him he is the only one, besides God, who has loved me for who I really am and I have only known that God loves me for who I am because of how my husband has loved me.

When my mother in law and my husband were at odds with each other never a few days would go by when my mother in law would not call...and this went on for months. I pointed out to my husband that at any point he could have called his mother and explained why he was hurt and she would listen...and vice versa. They were confused, hurt and at times mad with one another, but their relationship was never at stake.

I am not worth that to my parents and that is a pain I bear alone as not even my husband can understand what that is like. I may be worth a condemning email here and there, but I am not worth anything more than that to them...I am easily discarded when I refuse to tow the party line.

As I went for my run today I prayed for direction. God advised me to do a word search on rejection and the verse that spoke to me is found in Luke 6:

"Blessed are you when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man."

My parents can condemn, shame, and use God's word as a weapon till the day they die and that will not convince me that Jesus has not brought me to this place. They hate me, and they reject and exclude me because of the Son of Man and I don't have to answer for it anymore...they have to answer to my Father for their actions.

As I reflect on "The Shack" one of my favorite chapters is the one where God gives the main character a glimpse of heaven. He sees many people from a far off...but one person is unable to contain himself and we know this because colorful arcs of light are bouncing off of only him. As the main character gets closer the man who cannot contain himself runs to the main character and they embrace. The man who could not contain himself was the main character's father, and his father had abused him unmercilessly when he was just a boy. The main character had run away and his father had died and their was never any restitution or resolution while his father remained alive...but in heaven their was resolution and the restoration of relationship.

One day, in the reconciliation of all things, we will all know and we will all be known. I long for that day. I long for the day that things are on earth as they are in heaven...and for now the only thing that keeps me going, even as I grieve...is that God is especially fond of everyone...even those that have rejected me, those that are rejecting me, and those that will reject me.

"Because of the way God has made us, it is impossible finally and completely to deaden the soul. The soul will resurrect, in spite of the cruelty used to destroy it. It will pop up and then be slain again, return and be shoved down through contempt. The power to destroy the soul is NOT in the hands of satan, another human being, or even oneself."
~ Dr. Dan B. Allender ~ 'The Wounded Heart' pg 111

Labels: abuse, rejection

4 comments - Permalink -

Isolation and abandonment

11:47 AM by Christi Bowman

This weekend a friend asked a question and it haunted me:

"If we were born for community why are we isolated by our own private hell?"

It is a question I have asked myself in a different way.

All sex with my husband is not equal. Once is a great while we can actually become one with each other while being intimate. We can not make those moments happen. They are a gift from God. I am unaware, during those times, of my individual self; I only know an us. In the deepest way I am communing with my husband, perfectly, and all is how it should be. The heaviness of isolation lifts and I experience oneness...I am no longer alone. When that perfect community comes to an end my individuality comes crashing down on me and it is so burdensome, so permeating, and so instantaneous that I begin to weep. I feel like a prisoner in my own body; freedom was granted for a small time so that I may experience something grander than myself. But perfect community, in this fallen place, cannot last forever. I must be returned to what was sought after in the garden: individuality and isolation...a cell.

Childhood, I believe, is when a person begins to notice that he or she has the possibility of feeling alone, even in a crowd. My mother did not allow for me to begin reckoning with isolation. I was my mother's and she was mine. I do not know if my mother had what I described above with my father while my brother and I were growing up...that is not for me to judge. I do know that my mother and I had a very unhealthy attachment. I met emotional needs for my mother that she should have only let my father meet. No, we did not have a sexual bond, but we were very intimate none the less. She used me to fill up her empty spaces. She called us "best friends" many times, and besides work and school, we were rarely, if ever, apart. I was her sidekick and she would be tremendously upset, to the point of rejection, if I dared to step outside the parameters she had set. My mother insisted that she know me inside and out and I had no choice but to oblige; in return, she was very open with me as well. I knew things about her relationships that no child should have to bear. The roles of adult and child were extremely blurred; there were no boundaries.

The other day she told me in no uncertain terms that she could never forget what I did to her when I rebelled from age eighteen through twenty. She confirmed that my rebellion was the reason that we could not have a good relationship even today...almost fifteen years later. At first I did not understand how spending just two years, a mere fraction of the time I spent being her constant companion, trying to figure out who I was could be so heinous. But, in light of isolation I am beginning to figure it out.

My mother has abandonment issues. She has told me a countless number of times how her mother would leave for several days only to come home smelling of sex and booze. She recounts having to go into the bars on several occasions to pull her mother out...I am not sure why her father made that her job, but nevertheless, from what I hear, it was. At a young age her parents got a divorce and although she loved her mother dearly, she had to choose her father because she did not trust her mother. This so infuriated her mother that she did not see my mother again until my mother asked to come live with her at the age of twenty after a bad break up with a fiance. At twenty, now an adult, my mother wanted to talk about the past with her mother in an attempt to heal, I assume. Her mother would have nothing to do with the discussion and would deny any hurt she had ever caused my mother.

I do not believe that my mother is angry with me for the things I did during those two years of my life, although those are what she likes to focus on. I believe that she is angry because she felt that I abandoned her. She was never able to heal from the abandonment of her past. She is angry because she allowed herself to love deeply once more only to feel abandoned once more. I am feeling the force of her anger for both scenarios.

What she does not realize is that her unhealthy relationship with me was doomed the moment she set it into motion. She should never have put that much stock in a mother daughter relationship; that level of need should have been reserved for her husband only. I was always the child bound to leave at some point in time and begin a new life with my spouse. Because of my mother's abandonment issues I was never given the blessing to leave. Instead I was smothered and I wriggled free in unhealthy ways...but I was never free.

Without my mother's blessing I have lived in the tension of trying to appease her and live my life at the same time. For my mental health and the health of my immediate family the time to appease her must come to an end; it was a worthless pursuit anyway since, after my choices, she refused to be appeased. I must learn to move forward without the continual seeking of her blessing. True to who she has always been, when I quit seeking her blessing she rejected me. Someone once told me that if I do not forgive my mother I will become her. I am seeing this play out in my own mother. My mother cannot forgive her mother. My mother now sits in denial of the hurt she has caused and is abandoning me.

Labels: abandonment, abuse, isolation, ment

3 comments - Permalink -