Category Archives: Therapy

There are some things that I am coming to realize about my mother….


And they are not pretty.  When I was a small child my mother and father were together.  From the stories I have been told, he beat on her a lot.  I was far to young to ever remember something like that.  But I have it on good authority that he is an abusive man and an alcoholic.  I do not doubt that she suffered a great deal at his hands.

Some background for any of you that don’t know these things about me: I am a middle child.  I have an older sister and a younger brother.  We all three have different fathers.  When I was about 6 my stepdad adopted me.

I have come to realize as I have gotten older that the only reason that this happened was so that my father would not access to me and would not make my mother and sister scared anymore.  It is possibly so that he would not hurt me like he hurt them, but I don’t know.  I have to assume that they did what they thought was in my best interests.

When I was 5 my brother was born.  My sister is 8 years older than I am.  Mom and Dad went out a lot and left my sister in charge.  Would have been great except that my sister resented me for having been born and making her not be the only child anymore and she resented me for being “his” daughter and the reason mom kept him in our lives for so long.  She told me once when she was 16 or so that she really hated me when I was born.  People say that sticks and stones can’t hurt you but these words play back in a person’s mind and they do something horrible to the soul.

As I was growing up my mother would use my father as a threat.  If I did not go along with what she wanted me to do or act how she wanted me to act then she would threaten to make me go live with him.  From the horrible things that I was told about him, I did not want that.

My sister and her Daddy were always very close.  My brother was the son my mother had always wanted.  I was the middle child and all I had was my mother.  I was not my dad’s child by blood…just the one that he had to take ownership of. Of course, I am sure, he resented me for that.  So here I was this middle child with no one in this world to intervene for me but my mother.

About the time that I was 8 or 9 is when it started.  My sister moved out and moved in to live with her Daddy.  Mom and my sister had some really bad arguments but mom never beat on her.  My sister had a Daddy she could count on and who would defend her.  My brother was only like 3 or 4 so he couldn’t possibly do anything to warrant a beating.  But I could.  I was the daughter of the bastard who beat on her and no one could or would stop her from beating on me.  Belts, paint stir sticks, hands….whatever was handy.  It started and was worst when I would bring home bad grades.  Looking back now, I am absolutely certain that I had some form of learning disability or even possibly have Asperger’s Syndrome, but she never cared enough to try to figure out what was going on, just the “what the hell is wrong with you?” and the beatings.  She would even tell me sometimes that somethings I did reminded her of Chuck (my biological father) and when I did those things she just wanted to kill me.  My mother told me she wanted to kill me.  I was just a child.  Sticks and stones DO hurt.  And they replay over and over inside of a person’s soul.

When I was 13 we move to Cincinnati.  It got worse when we lived there.  It got much worse.  When I was 14 there was an incident where my mother’s cousin was coming to visit and my mother got angry with me for eating the last honey bun.  I had not, but she called me a liar and beat me with her belt.  She left welts and bruises up and down my legs.  She will swear to this day that I over exaggerated it and that this did not happen how I said it did, but she lies.  She doesn’t actually lie, but stretches it so far that she might as well lie.

She was always angry with me.  There would be brief periods of time when I would feel like we were finally going to get along and that she would protect me, but then she would turn on me again.  Almost as if she got off on the bait and switch she was playing with me.  When I was in 6th grade “dad” called me a bitch because I had teased my hair up and had it in the current style.  We were going to the father/daughter dance and I was getting ready.  She defended me on this.  Then she never did again.  There were so many times he would call me that name under his breath and she would say it did not count if it was under his breath.

When she beat me that time about the hunny bun, I wore shorts to school.  The school called CPS on her but they did nothing to protect me.  I went home with a friend because I was scared to go home.  I was terrified she would play the perfect mother and call me a liar and they would let her off the hook, so I ran away.  Well they found me and CPS did let them off the hook and they chose to make my life worse because of this.

From that point on I had to hear her tell me how I called CPS on her and that I was not abused….that those kids whose parents do things like burn or scald them or cut on them or all of these other horrible things, those were the ones that were abused.  She would tell me I had it so great compared to them and I needed to appreciate it.

We moved back to Indiana when I was 15.  We moved to Terre Haute which is where we lived when my boyfriend at the time raped me.  My mother walked in on that and did not even consider that it could have been anything other than her no good worthless daughter being a whore.  And she treated me accordingly.

There is a pattern of abuse throughout my life but she refuses to acknowledge that she has ever done anything to harm or hurt me.  It is very possible that I have Asperger’s or some other condition.  Whether this condition is something that is genetic like Asperger’s or something that is resultant of her abuse of me, I don’t know.  I do know that I have PTSD.  I have a severe case of PTSD from the abuse, the rapes and the miscarriages.  I have a pattern of letting people be mean to me because I am afraid.  Not because they scare me but I am so conditioned to be afraid.

She stole my son from me when he was just over a year old.  She was pushing me and I sent him to his father’s for the night so that I could have the night to figure things out.  I went to my best friend’s house and my mother showed up there with her best friend and my sister and told me to get my “shit” out of my car, which was in her name (another control mechanism she used on me) and left me on my best friend’s doorstep telling her that I was her problem now.  She stranded me and got his father to bring him to her and then never let me have him back.  In effect, she kidnapped my son.  I was so terrified of her that I could not fight even though it was tearing my heart out.

I  had lost my job and I had lost my apartment and when I needed my mother to help me, she cast me to the wolves and took the one thing that meant anything to me.  I want to hate her.  I want to cut her out of my life, but here is the thing….even though I know that I am much better than that and I KNOW I do not need her approval or even really want it, I still long for her love.  It makes me so very sad because I know that she will never love me.  She will always punish me for the blood that runs in my veins.  She takes that tone with me and I feel how much she doesn’t care.  I feel her lack of love.  She can say I love you and make you very aware that she does not in the same breath.  These are the hurts that I carry in my soul.  These are the things I have in my mind when I lay down to try to go to sleep at night.  I am so tired of feeling so very worthless and unloveable.  And I am tired of no one listening to me or believing me that she did these things to me.

I told my sister recently and she did not even believe me.  My mother has the family so convinced that I am a drama queen that no one will even listen to me, much less take me seriously.  I have realized that my mother is an evil person.  I just don’t know how to fight her and her money and lawyers.  But I will say that the day my son turns 18 and is graduated from school I will tell her everything that I have held back.

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A mother’s heartbreak…


Ok so any of you that have read my blog know that I have one teenage son with aspergers.  You may also know that I have 9 angel babies that I never got to hold.  You may also have occasion to know that that is all I will ever have because I had a hysterectomy last year after battling PCOS for many years and finally not being able to stand it any longer.  For those who don’t know, please read up on my blogs.

Last night I called my son while leaving work, like I do every single day.  A call in the morning, a call after work and a call to say goodnight.  Last night he informed me that he was going to spend this next weekend hanging out with his friend instead of coming home.  He has not been home for the past two weekends.  This generally would hurt my feelings but not reduce me to tears.  Generally.  This coming weekend is Mother’s Day.  This coming weekend should be a time for him to come home and say thanks for being his mom, for us to spend the day together doing fun stuff that we both enjoy.  But no.  No mother’s day for me this year.

He had informed me that Mother’s Day is just another day to him.  That it doesn’t mean anything really.  This, of course, was after  he informed me that since I only saw him every other weekend I was barely a parent.  This was also after he informed me that my husband, the guy who he told me he loved like a dad, was annoying and that he didn’t think of anyone as a dad.

This breaks my heart.  But I know it is not his fault.  These are the things that go along with him being an aspie.  He lacks that empathy that typical minded folks  have.  But living with his grandmother, instead of being taught to look for these moments and learn how to behave so as not to hurt others, he is being taught that “This is how I am, take it or leave it.”  Now generally this would be what I would want for him, but not to the point where he doesn’t care who he hurts or how badly.

And she told me that she was ok with him not coming home to me on mother’s day because “He is home”.  Last night I did not call my son to tell him goodnight.  I prayed that he would call me.  He did not.  I guess she is going to keep on until she finds a way to cut me out of his life completely.  I just wish that I knew what I could possibly have done to make her hate me so much that she has to harm him to hurt me.

I am going to take a minute and get really deep and emotional with you all…..


I posted this on my other blog and thought that it was maybe a better fit to this blog, so I wanted to share it here too.

 

I am going to take a minute and get really deep and emotional with you all…...

 

My family took my child from me when he was just over a year old under the guise of it being just “guardianship” so that they could get him insurance since I had lost my job, was losing my apartment and everything was going south for me. Instead of helping me to get back on my feet my mother had my sister call my pager and trick me into telling them where I was. They showed up, took my car, left me stranded in the middle of downtown on my best friend’s doorstep and then began the process of taking my son away from me. I was 21 and scared. I had no money and no lawyer while they had plenty of both.

I did not do drugs. I was not a drinker. They did not like my boyfriend at the time and my house was messy. I was a single mother trying to adjust to a baby. There were times when there was no food in the house for me, but he always had everything he needed, whether I ate or not. But though they will tell you that I couldn’t take care of him, that was not the only reason that they took my baby boy. They also did not approve of my religious beliefs and thought that they knew better how to raise a child and so they took him from me. It is all too common these days for these grandparents to think that they know better and to destroy their children’s lives and their grandchildren’s lives by taking their grandchildren away from their rightful parents. Sadly too many of us were raised to respect our parents and to think that our parents want what is best for us…so we don’t know what to do when they are the ones that turn against us. What do you do when your parents cast you aside, take your child and then tell you that YOU are being selfish for wanting your child back? How sick and twisted does an individual have to be to think that this is ok? What mental illness tells a parent that it is ok to stop caring about your child and take everything away from them?

I have one child. I have lost 9. I will never be able to have any more children. I miss my son every single day of my life. I resent that my mother stole so much of his life from me. I resent that I was not there to hold him when he was sick or to be there when he woke up with a nightmare. I am haunted by my dad telling me that my son would wake up in the night crying for me and I was not there. I loathe them for what they have done to me…and a part of me weeps because I want to love my family. I want to be able to love my parents and have a good relationship with them but they destroyed that. Instead of helping their daughter who was lost and trying to find her way, they just cut her loose, threw her to the wolves and took away the one and only reason that she was still alive. Who in their right mind would ever think that was ok?

My son will be 14 this year. He has been taught by his grandmother that I am barely a parent. That since I only see him every other weekend, that means that I should not have any say in anything he does and that I have no right to make him mind me when I do have him. He has been taught that if he is not a christian he cannot live in their home, forcing him to choose between the life he has always known and change. My son has aspeger’s syndrome and he does not do well with change. He wants everything to just stay the way it is. So he does not have any freedom to explore what path he wants to follow as far as religion is concerned. He has been taught that I am a joke, that I am something to laugh at because I want to be his mother so much but they took that away from me. And he has been taught that it is ok to talk mean to people so long as you make them feel bad for not being able to take a joke because after all, its only words.

My mother has recently brought up wanting to adopt my son. I told her that there was no way, it was not going to happen. She has convinced him that it needs to happen and that I am selfish for not just letting her do it. I told her that I don’t trust that I would still be able to see him if she did because she has lied to me and used him against me when she did not agree with me in the past. To this I was told, “It always has to be about you doesn’t it?” This was from my mother. What I want to know, as MY mother, when is she ever going to make it about me, HER child. I know that my wants and needs are nothing when it comes to what my child needs and what is best for him. I wish to the Gods that someone would teach that woman the same lesson. I am tired of being hurt by her.

I am tired of being hurt by the one person who should have always been on my side….who should never have wanted to hurt me. And it breaks my heart.

Spring has sprung and has put new life into my resolve


I have had one call regarding the support group with two people interested in the group.  Slow start, yes…but there are two people out there interested in my help and helping me and getting together to work together to get to good places in our lives.

In this wonderful spring not only have I gotten good news in the form of people calling about the support group, I have also met several other people in my town who are of the witchy persuasion and who are interested in getting together for full moon celebrations and to celebrate the Sabbats!  I am so excited to have two new circles going.  One that is survivor driven and one that is spirituality driven.  I am blessed.

Thank you Great Mother for the gifts that you have given me.  Thank you for all of the light you have shined into my life and thank you for the blessing of being able to find and help others and get help from others.  Thank you for letting me be able to teach others and learn from others.  I am so very blessed.

Love and light!!

Lucky

Big News!!!


I have officially booked the room for the first three support group meetings!!! My business cards should be arriving soon. I also ordered post cards to post around town. I am really feeling like this is finally really coming together. I am nervous but really excited. I cannot wait for the meetings to begin. My husband keeps saying that I am going to end up as someone with a lot of influence. Whether I do or not this feels like such important work. I just wish that I had more time to devote to it!

Prolonged Absence…I apologize….


I want to apologize to you, my readers and fellow survivors.  Things have been CRAZY busy this holiday season.  I have been making a lot of gifts which has kept me away from the computer.  After the New Year I have plans to start my support group (nerves!!!) and to begin working (hopefully) with Turning Point Domestic Violence Services.  I really hope that I do get to do some work with them, as they are who runs our local domestic abuse shelter and I feel that I can do a lot of good there.

Lots of love to you all.  Keep fighting the good fight.  Keep strong in your resolve.  Know that I love you all and I am just an email away.  Please do not hesitate to email me if you need to talk.  My email is whereismyreallife@gmail.com and I hope that you know I will be there for you if you need me.

Love and light to you all and a joyous holiday (whatever your holiday!)

Lucky

***I have been asked to add an addendum to this post.  Above I mention the support group and I mention Turning Point Domestic Violence Services.  I want to make it clear that the support group is not something that is tied to Turning Point.  Unfortunately they do not have any services like this available.  This is why I am doing the support group all on my own.

Just because you are paranoid does not mean that they are not all out to get you


Now don’t get me wrong….I do not feel this way now.  I have in the past, though.  Randomly, out of the blue, I would just start feeling like everyone was talking about me.  Like they were all out to get me into some sort of trouble.

I know what you are thinking (see still a bit paranoid)…You are thinking “This chick  has lost her mind!”

What you might not realize is that I am not alone.  As a survivor of a crime perpetrated by someone that was a friend/aquaintance/love/partner it is not uncommon.  I have found, through talking with other survivors, that we do tend to have a bit of paranoia going on.  Some would even say “A healthy dose of paranoia keeps you safe.”  But when is it too much?

I, personally, have had times when I felt like I could lock myself away from the entire world because I couldn’t trust anyone.  I know that this is not a healthy dose of paranoia…this is more like OD’ing on paranoia.

I would like to invite you all to open this discussion up.  I would like to have an open dialogue with you, my readers, to know your thoughts on this and share my own.  I feel that it is important to openly communicate on this one.  I think we could learn alot from each other.

Love and light,

Lucky

How am I feeling now?


Well I am glad that you asked.  I am actually feeling pretty good.  I am sorry I have not posted a lot lately.  Things have been CRAZY busy.  The month of October usually is.  I finally finished my son’s blanket (which is fracking awesome!).  I have started saying Frack a lot instead of Fuck in an effort to curb the cursing.  I have gotten put on new medications which will hopefully take care of my lower regions medical woes and get me back to feeling better.  I am going onto a new med which should facilitate weight loss (YAY!) and the world seems to be looking up.

I have been doing a lot of house cleaning the past few days.  I spent 4 hours on laundry last night folding, hanging up, putting away, washing, drying….blah.  I have been doing dishes more regularly and making myself be up and moving around cooking and whatnot when I get home so that I don’t get as stiff. 

I am still looking to start that support group.  Any ideas on flyers or posters?  I am going to a retreat with my hubby next month for survivors (our anniversary weekend) and am hoping to get some good information there.

I did miss my cultural sensitivity training from INCASA.  I had to go to the dentist.  Actually, the first time in 13 years.  Pretty good though.  Only 3 cavities.  I knew I had periodontal disease but we are getting that treated and working towards keeping my teeth in my mouth where they belong.  So far so good.  I am glad I finally decided to go.  I don’t know why I was so scared to.

Anyways, I am going to try to get on here more to post about relevant topics to this blog.  I just wanted  you to all know that I did not forget about you.  I appreciate each and every one of you.  I keep getting more and more subscribers and followers on twitter.  I feel blessed to be doing something that can help make a difference, even if only to one person.

Please give me ideas for posts.  If you would like to see me write about something, let me know.  You can either leave it in a comment here or email it to  me at whereismyreallife@gmail.com and I will try to write about every topic I get.  I will also give credit to the requestor.

Thank you all for reading my blog.  Thank you for being there for me.  Thank you for letting me be there for you.

Love and light,

Lucky

P.S. I have recently realized that somehow after all that has come before in my life, my rose colored glasses do seem to be pretty much still intact.  Some small cracks and some days I cannot find them, but for the most part I win.

Following in his mama’s footsteps…Or maybe I am following in his…


This is my boy speaking out against bullying and for himself and others with Asperger’s and Autism Spectrum Disorders.  I am so stinking proud of him!!!

Love Me Now (or how I learned to stop hiding and take off the mask….)


Everyone has a mask.  Whether their faces looks different with it on or not, it is there.  Some people even have multiple masks.  The masks generally fall into these kinds of categories:

1. Every day mask/Public mask

2. Work mask

3. New relationship mask

4. Party mask

5. Family mask

Now some people don’t wear these different faces.  Some people have no reason to where them and just let their true natures be hanging out there all willy nilly.  There are people out there that have never been injured or hurt by anyone.  People who have never been raped or beaten or threatened or assaulted in any way.  There are many times I feel jealous of those people.  The people who have not ever been hurt and don’t know just how precious life is.  Those people who don’t know what pain is and so cannot empathize with this pain that others feel.  I know that there are a lot of people out in society like that but it honestly baffles me.  How can someone live their entire life without having anything bad happen to them?  How can I go back in time and make myself one of those people?  Where do I sign up?

Alas, there is no time machine (yet!) and I cannot go back in time and undo the rapes, the assaults, the abuse, the miscarriages, the pills, the sex or anything that I have experienced.  So, you may ask how it is that I did learn this very valuable lesson about hiding and letting go of the masks.  I would of course then tell you that it is a very good question.  To be honest, I do not know exactly how I did it.

I do know that I met my husband online when I was 24 and he was 17 and we were friends (JUST friends) online for a lot of years.  He was a really nice guy and I had just gone through a divorce and we were both geeking out at some text based role play gaming.  We kept in touch over the years.  Then one day when I was 30 he asked if he could call me.  I let him do that.  He called and he asked me to do him a favor and take a chance on him.  He said he had been in love with me since he was 17 and that I was his dream girl.  I was stunned.

Not long before this, actually labor day weekend that same year, I had let a man that wanted to date me come to my house and bring his son.  That man had raped me with his small son in the next room.  I was nervous beyond belief.  I was going to be at my house all alone with this guy that I had not ever been all alone with before.  He flew in to the airport here in Indiana.  He had been living in Georgia but was from Panama.  He had been back and forth between Georgia and Panama most of his life.  He was 23 and I know he was nervous too but he did not wear a mask.  He was the very first person that I think I had ever met in the world that had absolutely no artifice to him whatsoever.

In time he moved to Indiana and we lived together for a while.  We got married last year in November.  We are coming up on our 1 year married and 3 year together anniversaries.  In that time I have slowly let the masks fall away.  I have let them go because I found that I do not need them anymore.  I found safety.  I found home.

This is not saying that you cannot have safety and home without a partner.  This is saying that I found someone that I can feel safe with and know that he will not ever try to hurt me.  It feels good to let my face breathe again.  Maybe one day my rose colored glasses will be restored.  One can only hope….