Wolves and Sheep

WolfWarAA

In the same manner that people with Cluster B personality disorders feign emotions, I have had to mimic their manipulative masterminds. It has become a matter of my mental and physical survival in what has become the cold and harsh world of this empath.

I was raised by an adoptive father who has full blown Narcissistic Personality Disorder and an adoptive mother who was raised by a mother who had Narcissistic Personality Disorder, who then raised me with narcissistic parenting as well. She became the Flying Monkey of my Narcissistic father who treated me as his Emotional Partner because he didn’t have anything in common with my mother. So he smothered me and took over my life. My activities became his activities. Many of my friends saw this as a parent who loved his child and was just involved and were envious if they had parents who were absent from their lives. But my dad took it to a completely different extreme. Every. Single. Activity. I did, he was overly involved in. He was a co-leader of my girl scout troop. He was the Band Parents President of my band. He made a point of getting in close to MY friends, to make sure that my friends even sided with him whenever I was upset about something like teenagers get. I couldn’t even have friends who were on my side. It has a name. Emotional Incest. I was my dad’s surrogate wife.

My dad would do inappropriate things too. He was struggling with his sexual identity at the time (still does). At the time no one knew he was gay yet. We hadn’t caught him yet. But I had my suspicions, I just hadn’t told my mom yet. He found it funny to ooze out his gayness in other ways like sending postcards of naked men or men in bikini’s to other men (friends of his) anonymously and would send them from different states when he’d travel to try and throw them off so they wouldn’t know it was him. He told my friends about his little scheme. One of my friends who was laughing about it and placating him, my dad decided to do that to. He warned him about it, that he was going to do it and said it in a joking manner, but then he did it. A freshman or sophmore boy in high school receiving a postcard addressed to him in the mail of a guy in a bikini….awesome!!!! I am so lucky that friend and his parents had a decent sense of humor. That could have gone really bad.

It would make sense that I while still under the thumb of my dad, that I would be easily wooed by someone who on the outside seemed to vastly different from my dad, yet somehow apparently something deep inside of me knew something felt like home to me.

After meeting my birthdad, I also found out that my husband is much like him as well. In looks, mannerisms, the loner status, the background in how things went with the ex-wives, the rock music and rock musician potential (one having led more of the real lifestyle and one lacking the opportunity to but having the innate ability for it), both who ooze the brooding pessimism, etc….So even without having met this man, there was something encoded within me to have chosen these traits when choosing a mate.

It is said that we keep having situations attracted to us until we resolve them. And obviously this is a prime example for me. It is even more true to have been said for girls marrying their dads and boys marrying their moms, the Oedipus Complex. Apparently, I have fallen right in to that trap.

Yesterday I met with a friend who explores spirituality and psychology and philosophy much in a similar fashion to the way that I do. As we were discussing my present state of mind and how to become unstuck from my sick cycle of a carousel, she spoke of my need to forgive myself. She felt I needed to stop my self loathing and needed to forgive myself. I struggle with this concept because many of my hang ups were created from my childhood, when I was innocent and didn’t do anything to deserve the manipulation that was done to my mind which has become the voice which continues to play in my head on constant repeat. When she asked me to name one of the things that I struggle with that started when I was young and still continues, I named that I never feel smart enough. It turned into quite a visceral reaction (another thing I struggle with that I medicate in order to temper because that is something many people can’t handle about me, and it does become too exhausting for me as well). Feeling smart enough is a hard thing to feel confident about when I still have my dad letting me know (just a week and a half ago) that he doesn’t think so (even though I know he does), and my husband making comments that make me feel dumb from time to time. I have constant reminders when I might not be street smart enough or have an airheaded moment. They are always pointed out to me and I am made fun of for those moments.

Takes1AA

I am starting to come to a conclusion that I am caught in another cluster cycle. One of a different strain this time, however. The headgames have just become what I do with some people in my life. I had to become good at them in order to mentally survive my childhood. Ignorance isn’t bliss in my world. With my intelligence constantly being challenged, I don’t like to feel as if the wool is being pulled over my eyes. I don’t like people thinking they can outsmart me and have control over me. I have tried to take the high road with these people, and when I have they only find some other way in the heat of the moment to take advantage of the fact that I am an empath and I don’t think fast on my feet and fear confrontation. And so I end up “losing” most fights. And so I have ended up playing their games back to them. Subtly letting them know in their own language that I am on to them and everything they try to hide from me and every way they try to get in my head. I let them know I am two steps ahead of them always. I never let on exactly how much I know but I always let them know in some way enough that they know the jig is up, and I watch them do a 180 and change their tactics.

Some people probably wonder if I do all of this manipulating and headgames, then doesn’t that make me a cluster b also? If you ask any of my nornal friends, they would all tell you that I don’t play any of those head games with them. I only do it with those who start them with me for survival purposes. One of these days this wolf will shed her sheep’s clothing and show that she really is the dominant wolf and she won’t be afraid of the vicious wolves any longer. For she has no need to scare with fear and gnarled teeth. She will lead with confidence and boundaries.

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There is a question out there that asks, “Have you ever been so mad that you are calm?” I could also substitute the word mad for hurt. There have been a couple of times in my life that I have gotten to this point. And when I have, I have numbed out. I have flipped my Humanity Switch. The most significant time in my life that I did this I had done it for a span of about 4 years. It was after I got out a a relationship with an abusive ex boyfriend who was probably an NPD, and had just figured out about my dad being gay and confronting him about it. It was during this period of time that I ended up falling prey to my current situation. It seemed so opposite of everything I had known but subconsciously I must have known deep inside it was a return to home base, to the familiar.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/ooze/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/visceral/

My song of the day: Sheep by Pink Floyd

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Sick Cycle Carousel

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I feel like my life is in a constant state of emergency. And it is always such mainly due to the choices that everyone else makes that is in my life. And while I do take responsibility for making the choice for who I married which brought some of those people in to my life, and every day that I choose to stay married, I guess is also my choice, but there were choices that I didn’t make at the beginning of my life that shaped who I am. I did not choose to be taken from my birth mother. I did not choose to be put up for adoption. I did not choose the narcissistic parents that raised me. And all of this impacts, every day, how I react to my environment and the people that are in it. And yes, I know that no one chooses who they are born to. At least we don’t make those choices here on Earth. However, people who experience a normal birth with their parents, do not come in to this world with trauma from the second they were born, or even before that, from the moment they were conceived.

I have been traveling down a very independent spiritual path which began mainly once I reached college. There was always something inside of me that knew the religion(s) I was being taught and raised by when I was young weren’t the ones for me. When I made my confirmation at 13, I cried as I walked down the aisle, not because I was happy or moved, but because the priest had told us that confirmation was now our decision as opposed to Baptism which was our parents decision. But I still felt at 13 that it was my parents decision, because I was highly controlled by my parents at 13. There was no way I could tell them at 13 I didn’t want to be confirmed in the Catholic faith and that I didn’t really agree with what I was attesting to. I began researching many of the different religions when I reached college. I wrote all my research down in a large text book sized book with blank pages that I called a Book of Shadows, after the sacred book of Wicca.

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I abandoned the research for a while after I filled the book and just did my own thing spiritually/religiously for a while and just floated about. Recently I began to seek more again in that realm and to read more on the topics again.

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On my point that I made earlier about the fact that we don’t make our own choices about who we are born to, at least not while we’re here on Earth. I was alluding to my newly gained knowledge regarding the Akashic Records. While I don’t know much about the topic yet, it is something I intend to explore. Many of those that I have been in conversation with about spiritual topics speak of the fact that we/our souls write our own script and contract (in the Akashic Records) before each life time on Earth and that we do choose our own path, no matter how hard that may be to accept, that we may have chosen a hard path for ourselves for a specific reason. This is a hard nut for me to swallow as I have struggled a lot in this lifetime. And it feels as though the way that I have chosen to love my life in terms of my virtues and actions are not in karmic relation to what I am dealt. I am told that karma is built up over multiple lifetimes though. This is also a very difficult nut to swallow. It is hard to continue living a virtuous life in this lifetime when it doesn’t seem as though I will reap any benefit from it in this lifetime. I feel as though I am destined for a constant life of hardships this go around. It is hard to continue to live for the advancement of my soul to raise to a higher level for the next lifetime or dimension or plane when I won’t remember the experience as the person that I am right now. Somehow I know people make good with themselves for the idea of life in Heaven or whatever it is they believe for the afterlife. And maybe it is selfish of me to want to get some sort of reprieve within this lifetime. It is hard for me to look around at those for whom life sometimes seems so easy.

I have always been afraid of death. And I still am, but my soul and earthly psyche is exhausted. I am weary of all of this pain and struggle and horrifying stuff I keep experiencing and witnessing on Earth. I am mentally more and more ready to leave this Earth as each day passes. I am ready at age 40 to step off this Sick Cycle of a Carousel for good. This entire reincarnation journey. I hope I am awakened enough that I am close to the end of my path and ready to ascend the final staircase to Nirvana or Heaven or the highest astral plane, or whatever the final destination may be.

planets

In my newer research studies of religions and spirituality, I have come upon another new term as well. Starseed. A starseed is defined as someone who originates from another planet or star/celestial body but resides here on Earth. This concept is one that is difficult for me to grasp as I was raised by very closed minded parents who are very conventional and poo-poo anything that is esoteric in nature. I feel as though I need to keep my mind open to things that I cannot know to be untrue. Especially when the characteristics of those who are defined as a Starseed fit who I am to a tee. There are very few qualities that do not describe me. Here are the traits of a Starseed.

  • From a young age, you have had an inherent wisdom that usually comes later in life for other people.
  • You’ve been told you’re an old soul and you agree. You feel ancient to the core
  • No matter where you are, you always have a feeling of homesickness. You know what home feels like, even if you can’t express it, and you know that your house is not it. This may even lead to depression in some cases.
  • Even as a child, you have always felt different, as though you are unique and others cannot understand you. You feel divided from the world — as if it is a constant battle of “them” vs. “you.”
  • You often feel morally superior to others, regardless of education or social stature.
  • Your sense of empathy is overwhelming.
  • You feel different from those around you, however, you have a natural inclination to relate to their struggles.
  • Your physical body is an enigma to doctors. It functions differently than everyone else’s and the medical world struggles to understand it. This may manifest itself in ways as small as a lower than average body temperature or inability to withstand heat.
  • You are incredibly intelligent, but bored easily by traditional academics.
  • You have had a paranormal or psychic experience. You may have seen a ghost, heard other’s thoughts, had dreams that became reality, etc.
  • You feel as though you have a purpose or mission to fulfill, but struggle to find what you want to do with your life.
  • You lack the passion or intrigue to truly devote yourself to one area and understand the banality of life.
  • The physical limitations of your body often frustrate you.
  • You feel as though you should be able to do more but are vexed by your restrictions. This is because Starseeds remember far more freedom in their physical form.
  • Your dreams are vivid and exceptional, and waking life never seems to measure up. Often, your dreams will seem other worldly — as though your mind has created a completely separate universe.
  • Others are often wary of you or feel uncomfortable in your presence. People instinctually know that you are different, but struggle to verbalize why. You may even feel isolated within your own family.
  • You have very few friends, but those who are seem to understand you without need of explanation
  • Animals trust you and are naturally drawn to you. You understand them to the point that it feels as though you can communicate. The same is true for babies and small children. They find you fascinating and seem mesmerized in your presence.
  • You are interested in spirituality but see the divine beyond books and religion. You may not be able to put it into words, but you have a deep understanding that spirituality has always been an intrinsic part of you.
  • You are drawn to metaphysics and the science behind other worlds.
  • You can feel who people are without them ever saying a word. You see beyond the external façade and instinctually know when they are lying. You may seem rude in conversations because you know what the other person is going to say before they’ve even started. People think you are disinterested, when in reality you are frustrated by the pace of the conversation.
  • From a young age, you questioned the ways of society and still feel perplexed as to how other’s don’t see its mistakes.
  • Though your dreams are exceptional, you’ve always had trouble sleeping.
  • You have a natural ability to make others feel better – whether through medicine or your words. Strangers will often open up about their problems without even realizing it.
  • People’s first impression of you is often aloof or cold, however, once they get to know you, they consider you to be one of the most loving people that they know.
  • You avoid large crowds and find it hard to handle people in large doses — even friends. To you, people are overwhelming and their emotions and actions seem chaotic.
  • You have an ability to emotionally or spiritually grow much faster than those around you. Your sense of morality keeps you grounded, even when presented with emotions that are difficult for others to handle.

 

The older I get, the more solitary I feel in my plight in life. And yet I feel like all I am made to do these days is to serve others. And this is weighing me down and stifling the greatness that I know of inside of me. There are so many things I want to accomplish in life that have gone on the back burner because I am burdened by dealing with everyone else’s “stuff” in life. It feels like my life’s direction is hardly ever due to my own needs and desires and path. And even though I might not be the bread winner, as always, that is one of the driving forces as to why my own pursuits take a back seat. My role as a woman and mother is another reason that I become the responsible one for everyone else and have to be the self sacrificing one. And the fact that I take responsibility for my actions and deal with my problems instead of trying to escape them furthers my stuckedness. And right now the only vision I have to shift my priorities is to abandon my current life path altogether. And that is much easier said than done. But I have been making real steps towards this instead of just imagining it in my head and talking about it. It feels as though it will be a when rather than an if at this point. I’m scared and I’m sad, but I don’t know how else to fix things anymore for everyone. And I need my 40s to be better than my 30s. I spent 10 years stuck in a holding pattern, and my souls signature is better than this. The world deserves all I have to offer, and there is so much more that I have to put out there that I haven’t been able to with where I’m at and I won’t be able to if life continues this way. Working on finding my power.

Sick Cycle Carousel
By: Lifehouse

If shame had a face I think it
would kind of look like mine
If it had a home would it be my eyes
Would you believe me if I said I’m tired of this
Well here we go now one more timeI tried to climb your steps
I tried to chase you down
I tried to see how low I could get it down to the ground
I tried to earn my way
I tried to tame this mind
You better believe that I tried to beat this[CHORUS]
So when will this end it goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won’t stop
Till I step down from this for goodI never thought I’d end up here
Never thought I’d be standing where I am
I guess I kinda thought it would be easier than this
I guess I was wrong now one more timeI tried to climb your steps
I tried to chase you down
I tried to see how long I could get it down to the ground
I tried to earn my way
I tried to tame this mind
You better believe that I tried yo beat this

[REPEAT CHORUS]
Sick cycle carousel
This is a sick sycle, yeah
Sick cycle carousel
This is a sick cycle, yeah

[REPEAT CHORUS TWICE]
Sick cycle carousel
Sick cycle carousel
Sick cycle carousel…

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/carousel/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/solitary/

 

Poor Richard

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As I sat and listened today on my daughter’s field trip to “Ben Franklin” speak about himself to the 5th graders, it triggered a memory in me. He spoke of Poor Richards Almanack that he wrote and how he wrote it under a pseudonym and how it differed from the other almanacs of the time. This reminded me of the research report I had done on him in grade school and how I had become a bit fascinated by him for a while. Particularly the Poor Richards Almanack. This triggered me to remember creating my own version of the Poor Richards Almanack, and it gives me pause to wonder if that was the first thing to infect me with my love of quotes. I didn’t start my collection of quotes in journals till college, but I distinctly remember creating my own Poor Richards Almanack book out of folded paper and writing all sorts of things in it as a kid. These types of memories when they come flooding back always seem to be filled with some sort of insight, if only I can read them accurately.

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But switching topics almost entirely to another “Poor Richard”, my all too familiar Narcissist, I created my latest YouTube video for my new Channel where I delivered deep in to a different quote in each video and give my own perspective through the lens of my own experiences and insight. I thank my Narcissist for his ability to infect me with his poison so that I may purge it out of my system in order to cleanse my soul and be a beacon of light for others as I ascend and learn from my hard knocks. May I be able to convert what I have experienced in to something that can help others through their own journey of thorns.

I hope that you will stop by my YouTube channel, watch my new video on my Quote for today, and please subscribe while you’re there as I hope to continue to grow and expand this channel and my Quote video series.

Alice Ariadne’s Quote YouTube Video

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/infect/

Me and Tea Time

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Many people are an either or: Coffee or Tea. I am Tea. Tea has become ritualistic. It has not become habitual yet, which I actually want it to be. It is something I do savor and revel in. I tie it to spiritual rituals, and that is why it hasn’t quite become habitual yet. I also struggle with drinking hot drinks when it is hot outside as well. Spiritual rituals are something that are very personal that I only engage in when I am alone, or when everyone is asleep, and at times I am too tired or too mentally worn out to get everything set up in the way I like to engage in my spiritual ceremonies. And so, I need to come up with some other ways to express and celebrate “Me and Tea Time” rituals without all the Pomp and Circumstance so that it can become more habitual. I am currently brainstorming on ways to shorten the length of the ritual, internalize the ceremony so that I can turn it inward in to more of a meditative state so that if others are present I can still have my time without being intrusive.

The picture is of a tea set I got for Christmas several years ago and only took out this year. It is aesthetically beautiful. I can’t say that it is my favorite in terms of flavor, as I personally prefer more herbal teas. But I truly loved watching the process of the blooming tea steep. It has such a calming and peaceful effect on the mind and soul. There are a couple of blooming teas that claim to be herbal teas as well which I plan to purchase and try with the hopes that they will satisfy both my taste buds and my aesthetic buds.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/liquid/

Growing up in a bubble

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Do you love the truth more than you need to be loved, or do you need to be loved more than you love the truth?

This question appeared as my daily meditation in one of the two daily inspirational books I read every day. In the morning I read a very short inspirational, meditational quote or question from the book “Soul to Soul Meditations:Daily Reflections for Spiritual Growth” by Gary Zukav. This is the book that this question came from this morning. The other book that I read at night has a slightly longer pondering, and that book is “The Daily Stoic:365 Meditations on Wisdom, Performance and the Art of Living” by Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman. For the past 3-4 years I have started my day by reading a short quote or inspirational blurb from a different book that I choose each year. This year I decided to take on two, one for the morning and one for the night time. This is a tradition I plan to (hopefully) continue for the remainder of my life in one way or another. I have found it to really open up, particularly my third eye and crown chakras. I have become so much more aware and self aware and my wisdom and intuition have grown exponentially since I began this practice. It is a daily practice I highly recommend for anyone and everyone.

Now that I am done preaching, on to my contemplation on today’s question, which my first preaching paragraph was probably a way to digress off of the topic at hand, because this question hit me like a ton of bricks. This question, quite literally, is probably the question that most defines my entire emotional conflictual existence since birth. I was born in to a bubble of secrets and lies. I was “sheltered” from the truth of my true history and birthright. And yet, at the same time, contradictorily, my adoptive parents exposed me to truths within their own lives and marriage that I should have NEVER been exposed to as a young child. They always told me the truth as they knew it about being adopted and the facts as they knew them, but they also we’re blatently honest about how they would feel if I were to ever search for my birthmom, that they would feel betrayef, that they were my parents, that she might have moved on and never told her new family about me and that I might ruin her secrecy by showing up (manipulation by truth to guilt me in to not wanting to search). I grew up being told that my birthfather walked away from us when he found out she was pregnant (which turned out to be a lie-told by my birthmom) and I grew up being told that my birthmom couldn’t take care of me financially and wanted a ”better life” for me, which my adoptive parents thought I made out well in the deal (because they did well financially). This was the narrative of my life. But what I intrinsically felt, was abandonment. When I was in first grade and told the kids in my class that I was adopted, the kids I told expressed exactly what I was inherently feeling….”your mom didn’t want you and gave you up”. When I told my adoptive parents that they said this, they told me that I should respond from then on that, “I was chosen by my adoptive parents, your parents were stuck with you”.

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I was also told the blatent truth growing up that my adoptive parents paid $30,000 to adopt me. None of this consciously registered at the time of course, but it all went in to the slow degradation of my psyche, and the conclusion that I came to 3 years ago that my adoptive parents don’t truly love me. They are not capable of love. Especially being who they are as people. My adoptive father has Narcissistic Personality Disorder of the highest degree. He has come to view me, I am quite certain, as his worst enemy. You know the saying, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer”? There have only been 2 people that I have EVER witnessed to have stood up to my adoptive dad and for him not to have cut out of his life (at some point in time). That is my cousin on my mom’s side and me. My Grandmother on my mom’s side as well to a degree, but he did cut her out of our lives for about 3 years. None of us were allowed to see her during that time span. Eventually he allowed her back in, but not without constant struggle and bashing her behind her back and conflict in person. They were two of a kind and clashed in the worst way. My dad has always cut people out of his life as soon as they stand up to him or dare to cross him in any way that he sees as any kind of betrayal. My cousin is one of the few people that he knows was told that he is gay and has had an affair during his marriage to my mother. And so, he believes it behooves him to keep her in his life, because he probably believes if he cuts her out, what would prevent her from spreading his secret. And so he keeps her close to him so that he can continue to gain “dirt” on her, and she has many of her own “skeletons” in her closet, so that it becomes something that he thinks he can hold over her as well. Little does he know that I don’t think it honestly would phase my cousin if he did tell the whole world about her issues. He already does anyway, because he is a gossip queen. Every other conversation I have with him he has some kind of disparaging story to tell me about her, just to make himself feel better about his own life.

And then there’s me. I truly have come to believe that he doesn’t view me as his daughter that he loves with all his heart. Especially not since I exposed his secret when I was 21 and brought his secret life to light, told my mother what I had figured out about him, and brought her to the hotel where he had set up a date with a man and intercepted it before it happened. I truly believe now that he has come to see me as public enemy #1 in his life. I am such a danger to him because I hold the secret that could ruin everything he tries to conceal (even though he is so delusional to think that no one has him figured out from the time they meet him). And even more dangerous is the fact that I am brave enough to confront him and that no matter how hard he tries, he is not able to control me and keep me under his thumb the way he is able to either keep everyone else complacent or controlled. He may keep me afraid enough for a certain amount of time, but then after a certain amount of time, I’ve had my fill, and then I break and my boundaries go up and I speak up. He also knows I see right through him like no one else on this planet does. I am the only one he cannot fool with his charisma and charm. I am too smart and am now always a few steps ahead of him, and nothing scares him more. I am no longer his possession.

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My adoptive parents have chosen which truths to be far too loose with throughout my life and which truths to be closed mouth about because it would be to their detriment if those truths became known. And while everyone does that to a certain extent, the depth to which they have done it has been so damaging to my mental state that I truly don’t know how to answer the original question that I was presented with in my inspirational book this morning. After thinking about this question now for several hours, I think that this question will actually permeate my healing process for months and maybe even years to come. My adoptive parents would tell truths that no child should have to endure at the tender age of 7. I was plagued at that age with the fact that after my mother had a hysterectomy, that she got addicted to tranquilizers and sleeping pills. And that my dad paid for a psychiatrist out of pocket in order to keep it off her medical records (because it is such a shameful thing). He would talk to me as if I was his best friend every morning on the way to school and put me in the middle of their marriage and speak vile truths about my mother to the point that I felt as if I was a child caught between 2 parents who were divorcing (they’re still married today, never even separated). And then in addition to that, at that point I also lost my mother’s presence in my life. From that point forward, my mother stopped being involved in any of the activities in my life and my dad took over. Prior to that time, it was my mom who was involved in vacation Bible School and who took me to and stayed at brownies with me and who took me to dance and speech therapy when I was in kindergarten. And after I was 7, it was entirely my father. It was my dad who took me to dance, my dad who was the co-leader in my girl scout troop all the way through senior scouts, my dad who was the band parents president in high school. And then my mom proceeded to be jealous of me and wonder why I had a better relationship with my dad. She was angry that I talked to my dad more, she actually would verbally tell me that, as if it was my fault. I couldn’t even consciously figure out why back then. And my dad would tell her it was because she questioned me all the time and tried to force information out of me, which did contribute to it, she did act nosy and wouldn’t lay off when I wouldn’t divulge information to her when her never ending questions about my day we’re only met with the typical teenage answer of “fine”. But I now see that her absence in my life after age 7 was just another abandonment in my life. And then she would use me as her means to try to seek love for herself, the love she never got from her mother. Rather than providing me with the love I needed, she would give me a hard time when I would attempt to walk out the door as a teenager without giving her a hug and a kiss goodbye. Because SHE needed it. I had long ago written her off because she stopped giving me what I needed when I needed it most. So why should I give her what she needed and wanted.

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This meme above is the checklist for what is called emotional incest. My father used me as a Surrogate Mate essentially. This also went in to what made my mother jealous of me. I can answer yes to every single question on this list. And to further validate this viewpoint, it wasn’t until I moved away that my father actually found a steady boyfriend, basically who replaced me as his companion. All of this just proves numbers 1 and 6. And as I have already stated, I also felt that I was considered a source for my mother to gain love rather than for my mother to give love.

Fast forward several years to when I was approximately 32, to one of the defining moments that gave me emotional validation to move forward with the search for my birthmom. For all the years prior to then, I lived under their manipulation, always wanting to search, but always too afraid to hurt them and feeling guilty laden that even if I were to do it in secret, that still somehow I owed it to them to not search. One of two catalysts finally gave me permission in my own heart to go ahead with ahead. The revelation of a truth that my parents had hidden from me for 32 years and then the subsequent refusal to appease my curiosity about my own identity and truth was a clear display of the fact that their own self love was more important to them than their love for me. And I needed to start practicing self love and to try and find someone who possibly loved me more than them. When I told my dad that I needed my official (not original) birth certificate, because they still had it, because I needed to get a new passport, he said he would get it from the vault. He then proceeded to tell me that when we were down there to get on the ship (the reason I needed a new passport in my married name), that he wanted to put my name on their vault card plaquard in case something happened to them so that I could gain access. But he also felt he needed to tell me something. He told me that they accidentally left my birthmoms name on the adoption papers that were in the vault which were supposed to have been reddacted. When he told me that, I simply asked him if he could tell me if her name was Susan because I always thought that was her name. He told me he didn’t remember, just that she had a long German last name but that he would have my mother check when she got my birth certificate. After that, he never told me her name like I asked. And of course, me being the loyal daughter that I am was too afraid to ask because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings or make him worry that I wanted to look for her. That truth of course is one that they withheld from me because it would be a detriment to them, even though they knew straight up that it was one that I had been curious about my entire life. I wasn’t asking for her last name which would have been identifying information which with I could have searched for her. I simply wanted to quench my curiosity of 30 years but they couldn’t even do that for me. And believe me, it wasn’t something they simply forgot to do. My parents don’t forget things like that. They can choose to withhold that tremendous truth from me, but share truths with me at 21 after confronting my dad about his gay tryst that he has a high sex drive and he and my mother don’t have sex very often (as if it was her fault). As if this was a truth that you should be telling your 21 year old daughter who is already traumatized by what she has just had to do and go through. And when he made me go to their marriage counselor because I broke down one day and he told me I was not having a normal reaction to everything and there was something wrong with me, she asked me how many people were in a marriage and I told her normally I would say 2 but in my parents case 3. She kept insisting it was 2 and I kept telling her that she has no conception of how much my parents have made me an integral part of their marriage to the point that it truly feels as though I am a part of it. And I still stand firm on this analysis to this day.

Once it all came out, he has insisted over all of these years that we keep his truth a secret for him, yet he can sit there and talk about it openly without saying in front of everyone “my boyfriend”, but he used his name and talked about all of the trips he went once with him in front of everyone. But if he ever was told that all of those people were told that the man he was talking about was his boyfriend, he would be devastated, angry at us for telling them etc…Again, he gets to choose and control what truths are revealed and what are hidden. And we (my mom and I) have to deal with any of the consequences and emotions of that no matter how it affects us.

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Because of my childhood trauma of truth, lies and secrecy, I have developed a very tumultuous relationship with both truth and love. It is quite evident in those I have chosen for romantic relationships over the years, the way I handle myself within those relationships and how I prioritize things. It is also very evident in how I have handled myself in friendships as well and how I finally sought out my birthfamily after discovering certain truths about my adoptive parents. For how important truth is to me, I have still chosen to keep my relationship with my birthfamily a secret. Those who know my adoptive parents agree with me on this decision because they know the reprecussions of it and they know the type of people they are and the impact it would have. But those in the adoptee group I was in for quite a while almost all disagreed with me on keeping it a secret from them and felt I should stand in my truth. And while it bothers me that I feel I should have to lie about this, I also don’t want anything coming between my relationship with my birthparents. That is something I believe I deserve and I think it shouldn’t be tainted by any extra pain that would come from telling my adoptive parents a truth that they can’t handle, which is highly unfair to me. They have already done enough damage to me by sharing all the truths they shouldn’t have and keeping silent the truths that shouldn’t have been kept silent. Exactly who would benefit from telling the truth about this? While I do believe in telling the truth for truths sake, there is also a certain form of protection that the withholding of truth does serve. And when it is truly in someones best interest to withhold the truth, at least perhaps until a later date at times, is that a virtuous ideal? I believe it is in everyone’s interest to withhold this truth. I feel to protect a child from losing their innocence before they should, when it is something that they really don’t need to be involved in, that withholding the truth can sometimes be of value (but I think some day they should be told the truth, especially if there is something they struggle with from that time period in their life). If withholding of the truth is done in order to deceive someone for that person’s own gain or to spare themselves from shame or the wrath of someone else, I feel that is not an appropriate reason to withhold the truth from someone.

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My husband always asks me the question, “Did you grow up in a bubble?” And he asks me this because I have often seemed very naive to worldly things and have come across as very sheltered. And for the level of conservativeness that my adoptive parents put forth as a front, and for how strict they were with me and curfews and what they expected from me morally and such, and what they considered “bad behavior” from me, the things I was exposed to as a kid were anything but conservative. I had to deal with very adult problems from the time I was very young, and I was never sheltered from any of those things, I was purposely dragged in to them. Those truths were never once spared from me. As I had already mentioned, things such as divulging how much was paid for me, that my mother was addicted to tranquilizers and sleeping pills when I was 7, my father never watched his cursing mouth around me..I knew the f word because of him by age 5 at least, my dad would threaten in my presence to commit suicide-he talked all the time about running his car off the road-I remember him saying that as far back as age 6, my mom constantly hit me with a wooden spoon, my mom smacked me across the face with a dishtowel at 4 simply because I took all my dolls put while she left me in the house alone and went to the neighbors to ask for sugar or something like that, my dad kept a stack of penthouse (like Playboy) magazines in their closet-I guess he was trying to de-gay himself or something, talked all about their sex life to me at 21 after intercepting my dad’s tryst…and the list goes on…..

I guess I have come to believe throughout the years that when people continue to lie to me, that I am not worthy of the truth. That whatever it is they are lying about is more important to them than being truthful to me and not doing whatever it is they are lying about. It is a matter of being put second to something, which has always been one of my biggest sources of pain. Being second best, second choice. To me, being lied to, and being forced to lie for someone/keep someone’s secret for them, I think has become equated with not being loved, of not being chosen. And therein lies my dilemma that I will grapple with for quite a while. Are they really separate things, do I have a warped sense of this cohesion due to my background, can these things coexist as separate entities without defining one another, or are they inextricably linked?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/bubble/

 

Better

My song of the day:Better by Plumb

This song came on my playlist a day or two ago. And then it appeared today on my Facebook as my see your memories from 3 years ago which was from the day (and events leading up to it) that kicked off my depression because of a situation that my adoptive dad started a mess over that changed the entire way I saw things and brought down the veil of everything from my childhood and for the first time I started to see everything about my parents so clearly for the first time. This song is about my adoptive dad.

Rivulet of my Consciousness

 

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Today I spent the majority of my day finishing up a book for my book club meeting for tomorrow. I haven’t been very good about completing them lately and I wanted to finish this one and I wanted to change this aspect of my life. I just finished the book. The book was a very triggering one for me as it dealt with topics of adoption. I don’t have much capacity today for thoughtful writing due to this. But there have been many thoughts traveling the rivulet of my consciousness throughout the day, ones dealing with my emotions from the book, ones stemming from other areas I am working through from my depression and other daily life encounters. I am going to simply post memes and quotes that outline my thought processes of today.

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/rivulet/