Christmas Mourning

Painful growth... as I go through the past a piece at a time, I'm coming to finally release the last of my denial and see my mother's part in all of it. It's hard. She has always been the "good" parent. Yet, where was she when I needed her most?

I twisted my ankle Saturday night. When I mentioned this to my mother - a fall down the deck stairs and a sprained ankle - what do you suppose her response was?

She told me of her dinner plans with my brother.
That's it.
And the thing is, while I felt hurt, dismissed, unheard... I wasn't surprised. It was the catalyst for the grief I'm entering into.

I know - I've always known on some level - that her concern is really only with herself. Even her constant support of my father is selfish in that it is fed by her fear of abandonment.

When given a choice between my father and me, well... there's never been a choice. No matter what he was doing, she stood by as if the world was a perfect place and never said a word.

It is what she has not done that cuts the deepest, and her lack of compassion this weekend was the straw that broke the back of a camel called denial.


Christmas Mourning


The child wants
The child needs
And so the child must believe

Anticipated fancy’s flight
Pledges of a daybreak bright
Hope, a beacon in the night
That never sees the morning light

Hurt and fear and sorrow fade
Promises divert the pain
Longed-for wishes softly prayed
This time let it be okay

The child wants
The child needs
And so the child lives the dream

Words of comfort, Mother’s touch
Doesn’t really hurt so much
Her back is turned, her smile a bluff
It’s what she doesn’t do that’s rough

Keep dreaming child, suckling malaise
While mother seems to proffer grace
With offerings prepared in haste
To keep the world’s eyes from your face

The child wants
The child needs
Watch closely and you’ll see her bleed

Cold as wintry blizzard drifts
Are Christmas morning’s promised gifts
And foiled and failed family trips
Bring about another shift

Mother’s eyes are vacant holes
As empty as the child’s soul
As the fractured walls explode
What does she have; what can she hold?

The child wants
The child needs
The child is grown and she is me

The pretty ribbon’s ripped and cut
The wrapping paper's torn apart
The open box, my fissured heart
At hope's end I must learn to start

Like storefront gifts on Christmas morn
Disguised, empty, and timeworn
True concern and care, stillborn
So sad there’s nothing there to mourn

Invisible Red Ink

Anticipation

Obligation

Degradation

Resignation

Tension

Anxiety

Distress and

Full out fear

Hold back

They can’t see what is real

I am here

I am real

But invisible

Notice me!

Doesn’t help

Demanding attention

Doesn’t help

Frustration

Resentment

Anger and

Full out rage

Not fair!

What’s the point?

Fuck you!

Doesn’t help

Lashing out

Doesn’t help

Grief

Gloom

Sadness and

Full out heartache

Don’t cry

If they come when you cry

It is meaningless
Tears

Won’t help

And a lump in my throat

Doesn’t help

I am worthy of love!

Don’t beg

I am not invisible!

Don’t want

Anticipation

If they would just push the film aside

They would see the world

For what it really is

They could see me

For what I really am

They would know

What they want and need and

They could step outside of

Obligation

I want them to be with me

Because they want to be with me

I want to be worthy of their attention

I want them to notice me

Even when I am NOT being a bitch

I want them to see me

When I am NOT crying

I want them to spend time with me

Because it makes them happy

I want to be wanted

And seen

For what I really am

They could love me

If they tried

Degredation

Oh I know what you'll say

It isn’t about me

But do you know why?

It can’t be about me

Because I am hidden

Behind a magic red film

And what I want to be

And do

And have

And what I am

Is written in invisible red ink

Resignation

Unseen

Unwanted

Unknown

I am

Even here

Beneath the film of red

I still am

Even if no one knows

I am

~Shen

When I was little, I had a magic book.

I don't know what it was called or even remember what it was about. What I remember is that on the left hand pages there was writing and on the right hand pages were pictures. In between each page, there was a thin, almost transparent sheet of red cellophane.

The magic was that part of each picture was drawn in the same red as the cellophane. When I looked at it through the red film, the red parts were invisible. Then, when I lifted the thin red film, I would be able to see all the red parts of the pictures. The entire picture would suddenly change and I could see it for what it really was, and always, the change was miraculous and wonderful.

Spending time with my family-of-origin, this past weekend, reminded me of that book. I've changed so much, and being with my family is different than it used to be. I look at them and know what they will do, how they will react in every situation. They all know their roles, and I am very aware of what my role is supposed to be, too.

The thing is, I don’t want to play my role, anymore. I am ad-libbing most of the time, now, it seems, but what is really frustrating is that nobody notices! They just run through their lines, like seasoned actors, and look at the world through a flimsy red curtain, and anything that doesn’t belong to the landscape they expect comes out in invisible red ink.

*****

Stuck on the Third Rung

Yesterday was one of those rare therapy appointments when I didn’t have an exceedingly pressing issue or anything that felt really unresolved from the last few appointments. I talked about some current things in my life. I love the fact that C is able to both help me with the past and work with me on the present. I know some people have said that they get only one or the other from their t.’s. It’s a blessing to be able to work on whatever needs working.

So, since we ran out of things to talk about with fifteen minutes still left in the appointment, she opened up my (very thick) folder and started going through papers she had paper-clipped – her way of marking things that we had not finished. She found several DNMS sheets that we never completely finished, but when she refreshed my memory about the parts of self and problems we had identified in those sheets, they already felt resolved.

Finally, she pulled out a sheet that was from an actual “ladder rung” of the DNMS process. Honestly, I had almost forgotten that this is how the process is supposed to work.

In DNMS there are four “rungs”. There is a fairly involved protocol for each one, and the idea is to go through them all, in order, to resolve childhood issues.
When I first started working with C in this DNMS process, we completed rungs 1, 2 and 3a in six months.
(Keep in mind that the following is my interpretation from what I remember and what I have in my old email and word files, and not directly from any DNMS book or guide.)

• The issues on the first rung are about existence. They are about knowing you exist and believing you have a right to exist.
• The second rung is about safety. It is about feeling safe and knowing you can keep yourself safe.
• The third rung comes in two parts. 3a is about owning your personal power.

When I look at those ideas, now, I can see how far I've come.

I spent a most of my life with a sense of unreality. On a deep level, I didn't understand that I existed at all. The idea that I had a right to exist - that the world was meant for ME as well as everything else in it – seemed ludicrous the first time it was presented to me. On some level, I knew it was true, but on a much more personal level, it did not feel true. I felt like an impostor .. a hanger-on in a world of the deserving.

Working through that first rung gave me a clear sense that I am real and that I am here for a reason. My existence is purposeful in a way it never was before.

For most of my life, I lived in such fear that I didn't even know I was afraid. Fear was my natural state, my norm. I honestly thought that’s how it was for everyone. I thought it was just how life is, to wade through every experience in states ranging from anxiety to panic. Now I know that is not true. It is my spirituality that helps me keep my fears at bay. Knowing I am connected to everything, that the energy within me is eternal, helps me understand that nothing that happens to me can hurt me. I exist. I will continue to exist in whatever form I am meant to have. No matter what happens, “I” will be okay! That was an amazing revelation that came from my most adult self and my spiritual core. It makes life so much more manageable.

Next we come to 3a – personal power. I did not remember that this was the last rung we completed, but it made so much sense when my therapist refreshed my memory.
I believe I have found my personal power. I have learned how to look inside myself, determine what I want, decide if it is appropriate to go after, and if it is appropriate, I give myself permission to go for it.
There. One sentence to describe an enormous process. I suppose it makes sense that it was at this point that we stopped working through this protocol because I believe I needed time to fully process this before I was ready to go on to the next part.

Apparently I needed a LOT of time. We finished rung 3a in June of 2008! Now, 21 months later, I have gone through major changes in my life, accepting things that I couldn't even allow myself to remember, before that. It seems like a lot of time, but that’s how much time I needed and I’m glad y therapist didn't rush me or allow me to rush myself.

I assume she now believes I'm ready to move forward, which is why she pulled out rung 3b, yesterday.

3b is about self worth.

If there is a piece of the puzzle that I still struggle with, this is definitely it. To me, this is proof that the process is working. We didn't have time to delve back into it, this week, but I’m excited about starting it again, next week. Although we have done a lot of DNMS and EMDR in the last 21 months, it has all been a kind of side road. It was all necessary, but it feels good to think I have made it back to the highway, again.

I wonder if it’s possible that I will look back at this rung of the ladder in the same way I can the others, at some future point, and say “yes, I now understand that I have self-worth.” I hope so. Before she pulled this out, yesterday, we were talking about my writing. She said something about my writing having innate value just in my doing it, even if no one else saw it or commented on it.

While it seems that should be true, I still can't really believe it.

She asked me, “If you wrote a hundred blogs and ninety-nine times someone gave you a positive comment, but on the hundredth time no one did, would that make the hundredth blog less valuable?”

I said, “I would wonder what I did wrong.”

So, since she is certain that it doesn't change the worth of something just because someone sees it, and she gave examples that make sense, I can see that I still have a ways to go on the self-worth idea.

And, in case you’re wondering, the final rung is about relationships with others. I'll get there...