Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day is a hard day for a lot of dissociative trauma survivors. It’s a day full of mixed emotions, painful longings, unhealed heartbreak. It’s so complicated, especially when you think about how important mothers are to their children, and what their behavior teaches their children.
Mother’s Day hurts the people who were hurt so much by their mothers.
Mothers are a complicated subject, to say the least, and the impact a mother can have on her children can and does change their lives. Abusive or neglectful mothers can teach some very damaging life lessons. Their children will carry those scars for decades of time.
I’ve seen this over and over with the DID survivors I work with.
Years later, the ways their mother treated them affects so much of their life – maybe even more than they realize. People who were deeply wounded by their mothers often cannot view other maternal figures (Including other female authority figures) without getting confused in that relationship because of who their mother was. The crimes of the original mother spill over onto the relationship any children they might have, making it harder to be a good mother in their own life.
That original mother relationship affects how DID survivors see the world, how they experience people, what they believe about themselves, what they believe about the world around them, and how they interpret others. It is very central to the very core of their being.
Working with mother-transference issues is one of the hardest parts of being a DID therapist. It is the area where the therapeutic relationship is at its most tender. It is the most vulnerable place. It is the spot where issues and feelings can get messed with by people who wish harm upon that therapeutic relationship.
To explain this, let me start from further back.
For example, I was blessed to have a very good mother and she taught me a lot of valuable life lessons. She wasn’t perfect, but she was and is about as close to perfect as one could ever hope for in a mother. She is kind, loving, compassionate, caring, generous with her time, good with children, full of wisdom, patient, gentle, and self-less in so many incredible ways. She has been an example to me for how to interact with people, especially with children. My mother is non-judgmental, and she is willing to dig in and help anyone that she meets. She is a beautiful soul, and she leaves a positive impact wherever she goes.
Yes, my mother has taught me a lot. And almost all of what she has taught me has been good. I do much of what I do because I had an incredible mother who taught me to be kind to others.
Those that spend time with me will see this in my work with them. They will see that kindness, acceptance, gentleness, and generosity in what I do. They will reap the benefits of what my mother gave to me as I pass that on to those that I work with.
So what makes that so hard?
If I am pulling from a good place, what makes mother issues so complicated and difficult to work with?
It’s because not everyone can interpret today’s kindness as genuine kindness. The past wrinkles in and rolls up into the present, and the present becomes twisted into the past in an emotional kind of way.
Sometimes the damage done to trauma survivors confuses kindness with abuse.
Sometimes the damage done by an abusive or neglectful mother is so pervasive that it colors all acts done by other females, and the perspective becomes so tainted that nothing is seen clearly. Female therapists are seen through the perspectives of “mother figures will abuse me”, “mother figures will hate me”, “mother figures will think I’m bad”, “mother figures will abandon me”, “mother figures are to be hated”, etc.
When trauma survivors truly believe, in their deepest selves, that women are there to abuse them, it is not an easy job to overcome that belief. The fear is too huge. The expectation of horrible doesn’t end. The fearful expectation of abuse can often overtake everything else.
Frequently the pain-anger-guilt-shame at not having a good mother can get thrown at the female therapist, and displaced and projected onto her as a safe place to express such deep heart-wrenching emotions.
Therapeutically, this is expected to happen, and the goal is to work through that in a healing way.
Most therapists and clients understand that, and will work through it as a team. It can be done, and when it is, very deep healing can occur.
However, sometimes trauma survivors get a little messed up along their journey. They truly get confused in this area, and understandably so. It’s an emotionally complex point, and trauma survivors are extremely vulnerable in this place.
And because of those vulnerabilities, dissociative trauma survivors can be easily misguided. They can get easily confused over who is the “good mother transference figure” and who is not. They listen to poor advice, or bad rumors, or are too unwilling to let go of their fears in order to heal. They stay convinced that women are out to get them, and they quickly join in with thinking that female therapists are abusive.
This breaks my heart.
I found it horrifically sad that some trauma survivors are willing to hold onto such beliefs that they would bring harm to themselves and to others. This only continues the cycle of abuse. It is not about healing. It is destructive.
(Yes, there are a few female therapists who are harmful to their clients, but those are few are far between, and those are not the people I am writing about in this particular article. That’s a completely different topic, to be discussed another day.)
This article is about genuinely good therapists who are mistaken as the “bad mother”.
This article is about finding ways to heal from your abuse.
It is about finding a woman of kindness, and not confusing her with your not-so-kind mother.
It is about recognizing the differences, and not being pulled into old fears, old beliefs, and old ways, just because they are more familiar to you.
It is about learning to recognize someone that can be positive, helpful, and kind to you, and to your inner children. It is allowing that healing to occur. It is keeping clear on what happens in the present, and doing your best to not distort it or twist it into something negative from your past.
It does not help your healing to project your “bad mother issues” onto a good therapist and then stay stuck in that spot. It only confuses you, and it prevents your healing. It brings harm to you and your system to stay stuck there.
Your female therapist can and will teach you something very different from what your mother taught you. Don’t assume the two women will be the same, because they will not be. Don’t project so much of your abusive past onto your current day therapist that you cannot see who she really is. Work hard at recognizing true kindness and gentleness for what it is.
Let yourself and your inner child parts have those corrective emotional experiences with a kind therapist and don’t let anyone mess with that. If you let someone distort those experiences – if you let someone convince you that something was abusive when it wasn’t — then you have brought emotional pain to your inner world that didn’t need to happen. If you weren’t abused, don’t let yourself believe that you were just because that is more familiar. Separate the past from the present.
Haven’t you been hurt enough? Why add to that?
It is important to try to believe that all women are not out to get you.
Female therapists are not here to harm you. What your mother taught you can apply to her, but it really and truly does not have to apply to everyone else. Your mother may have been cruel, cold, uncaring and abusive towards you. But not everyone will be. Not everyone wants to be.
Don’t assume the worst, and please don’t treat other women as if they did what your mother did.
It is very hard for trauma survivors to come to terms with these truths. But the sooner you do, the sooner you will find that place of genuine healing.
Don’t let the harmful lessons that your abusive or neglectful mother taught you ruin or destroy any more of your life. You truly can heal from the hurt and the trauma that you went through – I promise!
There are lots of good, helpful, kind, compassionate, caring women out here in the world.
I encourage you to be one of them.
Warmly,
Kathy
Copyright © 2008-2020 Kathy Broady MSW and Discussing Dissociation
what mom taught us:
if our own mom can’t love us, no one can love us. no one probably ever will, if mom doesnt…because mom knows us best.
if our own mom can’t protect us, no one can protect us.
if our own mom can’t waste her time on us, no one is going to waste time on us… unless they’re getting paid for it (even our ex best friend used to joke with our husband “where’s my check for this month?”…she didn’t know… its okay…)
if our own mom thinks we’re crazy, everyone is going to think we’re crazy.
if our own mom doesn’t want us, no one is ever going to want us.
if our own mom doesn’t think we deserve anything good, then we dont.
if our own mom says we’re fat/ugly/weird, then we are.
if our own mom doesn’t think we’re pretty, or sweet, or whatever… then we’re not.
can’t write this anymore 🙁
it is really hard to hear about people who had good moms.it makes our heart hurt a lot. but we’re glad you did. because it made you a really good person kathy.
your article makes lots of sense. caroline says to believe you.
this is just a really good day for being invisible.. there’s too much inside. we can’t fit it all in. its too much.
stupid holiday. and father’s day is going to be tons worse.
If even your own mother cannot stand you who else is going to. WeI are on our 3rd therapist in a year. Therapist one went on a career break, therapist two on long term sick leave and now therapist three. So we are just waiting for this one to pack up and leave.
We cannot imagine anyone sticking with us.We are just pleased that mother’s day in the UK came and went in March. Hate this day, hate other people who had mother’s who didn’t hate them but don’t want to feel like that.
It was a good article. it just made us sad.
Thanks for the post Kathy. It was kind of you to think of us on this day when it was a special day for you. I am thankful you took the time to write your words in this post.
My mom taught me
(and this is just me Haley – not any other alters):
I am hateful
I am conceited
I am just like my dad (NOT a compliment)
I made my bed I must lie in it
I should go find someone else to love me
(someone else in this system tried that – got raped weekly for 3 yrs.)
I have the devil inside me
I don’t know the difference between my head and a hole in the ground
I am a liar
I am a smart-alack
Hitting is ok
Spanking a 17 yr. old is ok
Slapping the face is ok
I will never find anyone who will love me
I should go live in the woods
It was my fault for wearing that scanty leotard
I am evil
and so much more I don’t want to draw to the surface.
It is really hard for me, like pilgrimchild and maddie50, to hear about the people who had good mothers. I am so jealous which then turns into so many other feelings for us.
The question we ask day after day is why did we not have a good mom? And why do some kids get good moms? We all have different answers to these questions. One day I want someone to answer that question for me. If there is a God (and I am on the fence and I do not intend to create a monster of a topic here) then how does he decide?
Child A goes to Kathy. Child B goes to the likes of my mom. How can this happen? I just cannot settle this in my head. Everyday this is more trauma because I am, “okay I had a bad a start but it is not too late to get those things.” But then my T says it is too late you cannot go back. Then I say we CAN go back because alter R is still 6. Alter C is stuck at 2. They are already back why can’t they get special times with you? We are not asking for the moon or a million dollars. Just time with a safe person. Special times for us with her so we can grow. I know I would do it for someone (actually I already do it with 4 outside kids hating it all the while because we NEVER get our turn) if they needed it. So what is wrong with us?
We are dirty.
We are messed up.
We are not worth it.
We are unlovable.
We are evil.
Hateful
the Devil is inside
I am never going to understand. I am always searching for what is wrong with us. I just want to belong to someone. Just one someone who will adopt me as their own so I can feel emptiness inside.
Haley
My mother is a good person with a good heart.
But what I learned from her is that I better not
count on anyone, I better not trust anyone, and
I better learn to be strong and do everything all
by myself & take care of myself. I guess that can
be a good thing… it made me independent.
I don’t want to judge her, because it isn’t my place.
I love my mom a great deal, but “mom” is a very
difficult subject that I just don’t talk about. It is very
hard on my heart, and even harder for the inside kids.
I am a mother figure to lots and lots of people.
That’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly.And I
am glad to do it… I’m good at it. But I
learned how to be a mother from reading the Bible,
and from watching TV, and reading books.
I like your article Kathy, & it makes a lot of sense.
Caroline
long on – my appologies…
From mom (and dad really) i learned inconistancy.
Mom was sexual with me – I confuse tenderness with sexuality.
Mom taught me my body was dirty. But that sex is good and gave me a book on bodies and sex.
-lack of boundaries
-mom is narcissistic; all things must make HER happy.
– is caring, kind, most the time gentle. Has a good heart, but wants in-kind payback. No, DEMANDS in-kind payback. When there are no strings attached, I get suspicious. Like now at my Masters Graduation. She is proud of me, I earned a present… I earned a day all to myself *looks around for the trap, the strings. Knowing Mom’s day is very next day…
– can turn like the weather and be ragin, fierce, mean, cutting.
-seems to still be either sexual or sensual with me; i can’t tell which.
-was neglectful somehow; i can’t quite put my finger on it. I sought out replacement moms all the time and still have several.
-at some point, i pull away from my replacement moms; usually when they finally “adopt me” and start saying they love me. they’re not safe after that to me.
-had to abandon my Dr as my Dr because she said my mom and her mom could be twins; which makes her my aunt, right? And she cared deeply for and about me, said she felt i was a lot like her and therefore I couldn’t allow her to do any scary exams because that would be abuse; since all family members who “cared” for me abused me sexually in some form (and among other forms).
-when T starts ‘taking charge’ or getting pushy or firey or…. i can’t find the word I want, I start to get angry and hate her! She’s just another person i put my faith in and look where that ended! But I never tell her – I just sob and sob. Last time this happened she said it was like she was killing me! Pretty much, I thought.
“pilgrimchild said,
May 9, 2010 at 8:13 pm
My mother is a good person with a good heart.
But what I learned from her is that I better not
count on anyone, I better not trust anyone, and
I better learn to be strong and do everything all
by myself & take care of myself. I guess that can
be a good thing… it made me independent.
I don’t want to judge her, because it isn’t my place.
I love my mom a great deal, but “mom” is a very
difficult subject”
yes – all that is true for me also, Caroline. And what I first wrot – it creates inconsistancies for me and my life… and cycles that I get stuck in… the “right now cycle” is this:
i’m not working due to anxiety which stems form multiplicity which stems from ptsd which stems from csa. i’d go back to work, but i’d just fall in the same rut. i can’t get out of the rut with therapy…. so i’ll just quit therapy and … go back to work and forget about all of it…. expect that some one will swap out and i’ll be right back where i was – on ssdi for anxiety. i hate that this whole thing is one twisted cycle – one I can’t seem to break. Course, I think that that is another mom thing; not breaking bad cycles or habits. I am NOT mom, surely i can fid a way to be different.
But I just don’t yet know how to fully trust T when it seems like she always hurts us by not listening or wanting to talk to the kids, by getting stern with us when we appear to be stuck, by saying we need to work with someone else (which would be our 6th T). More abandonment on the horizon. “Keep your bags packed.”
Kathy, thanks for th article – it helped me get clear where some of this is coming from… and whoever said father’s day would be worse, I’m in total agreement. I scribble it off the calender every year. I hate the term “Dads and Grads!” so i was thankful that in my graduation yesterday they only spoke of moms – tho that was sorta hard to; be grateful for the woman who brought you here, the woman who sacrificed for you, gave you her all – you’d not be here today if it weren’t for her.” I was thinking (even while she sat in the audience) NO; I am here DISPITE her!” *I* worked for this, *I* fought for this, *I* chose to be different and accomplish more than she did. *I* chose to stop the cycle of abuse by not marrying and having children; and giving my life to education.
But… she did support my efforts. She did tell me I could accomplish whatever I set my mind to. She did bring me coffee when I was up both early and late finishing papers and dinners when I refused to stop writing finals to eat….
inconsistancy…
I just switch off on those days usually. Did not mean a thing. Had to walk around my church and give pretty flowers to mums… but really cant remeber much about it (I managed to give a lady flowes twice, not realizing I just had given her a bunch and wished her happy mothers day). they thought it was funny… i smiled too somehow. who gives a damn? no one really
Mommy I want to visit you and tell you I love you, but at the same time, I can’t be in the same room with you.. cause of the things you did to hurt me so long ago…to stop me from talking about the things your son did to me…
and your man… some where inside I know it is true, what I say is not true cause I can’t see it real clear.. it is fuzzy.. when you were violent…
so I can say it did not happen, but I can’t be around you…
I know the times that weren’t fuzzy… the hair pulling and looking the other way, when you knew he had me down there in the basement at night.. again..
How could you be so blind?
Were you abused? Is this why? So should I not blame you? Were you blind to me to keep sane? But why did you say I would go crazy some day? Why did not you tell me that my crazy aunt said her Daddy, my grandpa sexually abused her? Why not tell me this? Why instead say you will go crazy like your aunt? Cause you knew that I was being sexually abused too? Why say you love me and then tell me you can protect me, can’t talk about it, don’t like my hair, oh I have always been so flightly, I am so smart you said, just like my aunt.. So I am going to go crazy like her.. WHY WOULD ANY MOTHER tell her daughter that she was going to crazy? How mean! Why be mean in such a weird way? Why make us dinner, buy us presents and keep a roof over our heads like you say you do so well.. but act like males have rights to me that I can’t say nothing about.. Little girls don’t lie mama. They die. You killed me. I did not go crazy. I just can’t visit you.Love you mama and miss you. Happy mothers Day. I feel so guilty but I am so confused. So confused by the presents you bought me for xmas and the nice things you have done for me. You are a strange mix and now I am mixed up. But not crazy.. Just crazy sad and crazy hurt.
My spouse did not even say “Happy Mother’s Day”. I think I “married my mother” psychologically.
My Mom: Used spermicide, condom and lysol douche to prevent conception and oops here I am. She was not pleased. She told me if she’d known before what motherhood was like she would never have had children. oops again. I do not have conscious memory of a hug or I love you. When I left home she said, I love you, you’re on your own and don’t come back.
She did her best to make me hate and fear men and the multiple male abusers did not help – but neither did the multiple female abusers.
She taught me to trust no one, myself least of all. She taught me by example that she had all the power and her way WAS the highway.
I’ll quit here, I would want to be, ya know, negative or anything. I’ll leave just one final thought. She died on June 10, 1992 when I was in my 30”s and I’ve never really missed her – which hurts me to the core because there is no way to ever straighten out the ritual crap and what the hell was actually going on back in crazyville. I am finally learning to have my emotions and sometimes I cry my heart out because I need and miss having a mom – not my maternal fetal deliver system, but a human woman who would have loved and taught me to be a woman, a mom, a wife, a lover and someone who could organized and clean a house and make it a HOME – something I never had and can’t ever get.
As bitter as I am sounding – she also taught me how to be sarcastic – my heart is in so much pain – how will I ever become a woman? I feel almost androgenous, I fear adult females and males. Children and my precious daughters are all the love I understand.
Leslie of the pixies
Leslie,
i too fear adult men and women. even kids abused us too, so it seems anything is better than to be human.
For you I hope that you will find in yourself how to relate to adults well so that when your kids are adults, you will still be able to have a bond with them. Otherwise the abusers win – and that would be the worst of all.
take care,
kiyacat
The things that my Mother taught me
She taught me respect
She taught me manners and etiquette
She taught me the importance of an education
She showed me the importance of culture and art
She showed me the world
She taught me to be strong
She taught me to be resilient
She taught me the importance of intelligence
She taught me to only depend on myself
She taught me that I always get what I deserve
She taught me to fight through the pain
She taught me that outside appearances mattered above all else
She taught me to have no fear
She taught me that I was expendable
She taught me how to die at my own hand
She taught me how to perform sexually
She showed me how to manipulate anyone
She taught me that a persons wealth was there for the taking
She taught me that children were possessions and trash
She showed me that no matter what I thought the truth was, I was wrong
She taught me self loathing
She taught that I was unlovable, always
She taught me so many things
Stupid day. What a stupid day.
My mother taught me to keep my big mouth shut.m.
that I am no one
that I don’t belong
that I am not important
that who gives a fucking shit if I am hungry or hurt or terrified.
no one will ever give a fuck.
and stay out everyones way.
when your own mother doesn’t care about you no one will.
My Mother taught me that I am het Luv Child. Different from the rest.
Oh, my heart. I simply have no words.
Kathy, you said “Your female therapist can and will teach you something very different from what your mother taught you. Let yourself and your inner child parts have those corrective emotional experiences with a kind therapist and don’t let anyone mess with that.”
Is this really something we get to have? Truly? It would be okay?
Sometimes when my T is kind I rather soak it up, that kindness and acceptance and willingness to teach and help me understand things…and then I feel guilty for enjoying the kindness. Like I don’t deserve it or I am doing something wrong. It is small things, like hearing her say that I need to be safe. “Safety first. We need to work on safety nets so that you stay safe as this gets messier.” That sounded so kind. It was okay to like kind words?
This is a lot to wrap my mind around. I feel kind of stunned, really.
Wren, I totally relate!
I have a child part, non-speaking, that sort of looks through my eyes when my therapist is being especially kind. It’s a very young part. And it is like she is soaking up whatever kindness she can find and reveling in it. It’s like being bathed in kindness. It feels so good. And I have just started being aware that it is happening, but I don’t fight it, because that part really needs to see and feel a compassionate woman.
I also have a female teen protector part that is very, very resistant to women. Any woman. That part projects all the trauma and abuse on to every woman. Including my therapist.
So it is a constant battle inside, between the parts that need and want and are open to kindness and compassion from women, and the part that wants no part of relationship to any woman. This is the big issue for me right now in therapy and is the one that is being worked on the most. It is so hard to work through and with transference issues. I feel so embarrassed and ashamed most of the time.
I keep telling myself this is where the real work is done and where the change actually happens. But it is hard.
Neo, it surely does get complex. Sometimes it feels so… enormous. It feels ENORMOUS as in REALLY BIG. All this “stuff” to try and figure out and process and make sense of and in the midst of all of that…trying to understand this thing called transference that just seems to add another twist to whole knotted complicated mess.
And here we are all anyway. Trying. That is what I find so utterly amazing. Trying to heal while carrying this box of rocks on our back. Shame. Embarrassment. Confusion. And still we try.
I am so grateful for therapists who will listen and help us make sense of it all and help us heal.
And still I wonder… is it okay to soak up kindness? Is it okay to let compassion touch the wounded parts?
Well, I tried to ignore your postings on this topic Wren and Neo. It was probably because I simply did not want to go there. You two are very brave to have gone down this road and now I feel compelled to run after you because … well … I still have mother issues. It feels really embarrassing, silly and shameful to admit this fact at this stage in my life but there it is.
The grounding of us as healthy individuals (or not) starts with our mothers (or primary caregiver). If that relationship is seriously flawed than the collateral damage ripples throughout our lives –forever expanding, forever lapping at our subconscious minds. One of my little ones is all about the disjointed, sporadic and frozen attachment with “the mother” (as some of my insiders call my mom). This little one is named Squirrel (her name for herself) because she is always looking for love and, when she finally finds some, she hides it away for safekeeping but can never (or rarely) find it again. So, she never feels any satisfaction or fulfillment in the love department. Yet, she is very lovable none-the-less. But, like most of my other insiders, she is fearful of just being tricked as in “this is not really affection that you are showing me, it is a trick to draw me in, to expose me for being weak, vulnerable and needy, and then having reason to punish me.”
So, here is where the transference comes in – always being doubtful that my T is showing me genuine affection, that it is not a trick and that I will not be punished if I accept her caring and really take it in. She has been very patient with me and has modeled mothering/caring behaviour for me. In turn, I have endeavoured to be as open and honest with her as possible when I feel myself wondering if she really cares, is really concerned enough to listen to me, and will not punish me. Open honest dialogue I have found is the best policy here. But wow is it hard to see and then to verbalize.
We need to take a leap of faith with our Ts and let ourselves feel what it is like to be cared for by a healthy, compassionate and mindful woman. And, yes we can soak up all the compassion and caring that our Ts are willing to offer to us especially when our wounded parts are involved. That is really okay. Heck, that is an essential part of our work. We all deserve compassion and caring.
Say, I think that we are making a great start on that front right here. We know that Kathy has shown us nothing but caring, compassion and understanding here and Laura has shown us that she wants to help as well. Then we have one another too. There has been heaps of genuine caring expressed by our DID friends. Let’s keep that going because I do not think that we can ever get enough.
I have been thinking about this off and on all day. It makes me realize that in a lot of ways my mom is scared. She was scared then and even now, in her elder years, she is scared.
The abuse in my family is generational.
One thing my mother taught me is that I should let it go. Let the past be the past. Even now, she stuns me when she listens to women on the news speaking up against abuse and she thinks if it is in the past that they are wrong to bring it up. And she is mad that they are saying anything. “God will judge!!!” is a common response. As well as, “Who do they think they are? They are not perfect. They had better be careful because everyone has done things that are wrong and they have no right to judge.”
No right to speak up about abuse? Really, mom? She looked at me and she just flat looked scared. And for that I could feel some compassion. Why such fear? I think there are a lot of things that burden her greatly. She carries shame like a well-worn over-stuffed pack on her back.
I wish she could be free.
And still….all the compassion in the world does not change the fact that I, too, have a backpack filled with painful memories and 1/2 memories and broken pieces and shame.
I carry a legacy of silence and shame. That, too, is generational.
What did I learn from my mother? Don’t make noise. Don’t tell. Whatever you do, don’t tell. Pretend that everything is fine. Do not cry. Whatever you do, do not cry. Hold your head up. Don’t ever let anyone see you cry.
Tenderness. Compassion. Simple gentleness of presence. These are things I can give, but do not know how to receive. I have all my life been the tough strong one, the one who could do anything, cope with anything. I was unbreakable.
I carried the shards of my soul around in my own backpack, like broken stones. All with a smile on my face. No one knew.
Tenderness. Compassion. Gentleness of presence. To allow someone to actually see me in a moment of sorrow, to see the raw and ragged wound – to let them notice it let alone tend to it. To maybe make eye contact in that moment of compassionate gentleness. These things I do not know how to face, how to receive. I do not know how to “be” in the presence of someone who notices that I need compassion, let alone how to “be” should they offer it. I think perhaps I might disintegrate if that were to happen. Another part of me aches for it. And so I shove that longing deep underground, into the darkness and shadows where I don’t have to look at it. That longing is so human and yet, for me, so shameful that I cannot bear to acknowledge it.
And that is a long deep sorrow I didn’t even know how to put words to…until now.
Oh my … oh my … oh my … what a deeply moving, heartfelt and eloquent posting Wren. Your words:
“I carry a legacy of silence and shame. That, too, is generational.”
“I carried the shards of my soul around in my own backpack, like broken stones. All with a smile on my face. No one knew.”
“To allow someone to actually see me in a moment of sorrow, to see the raw and ragged wound – to let them notice it let alone tend to it. … And so I shove that longing deep underground, into the darkness and shadows where I don’t have to look at it. That longing is so human and yet, for me, so shameful that I cannot bear to acknowledge it.”
Absolutely, stunningly beautiful in a way that reaches in and grabs one’s heart and shouts – SEE ME! HEAR ME! FEEL MY PAIN! – Know that I am here in suffering and longing. I am the walking dead that longs for that small delicate touch of compassion that might bring warmth and life to my heart once more. And, when that time comes, please give me the courage to see, hear and feel that touch.
Your pain is palatable Wren but so to is your healing. You have come such a long way from that delicate little bird that flitted into this feeder just a short time ago. You got scared then and you were ready to fly off as quickly as you came. But you summoned up the strength and courage to hold on to your perch here and stay. You have nibbled away at the offerings of food for the heart, mind and soul that Kathy has so tenderly and generously filled her feeder with. And you have offered so much of yourself, your insights, your inspiration and your courage in return. This caged Wren knows how to sing and, one day, her song will set her free.
ME+WE,
Thank you for the kind words and your oh so gentle enouragement. You truly do so much to lift up people here. You have a gift.
I am so glad that you encouraged me to stay. This place has so much to offer in terms of education and understanding and support. I have learned more here than I ever dreamed possible.
And I am especially thankful that Kathy has given us this place to connect with other DID peeps. I have felt alone and misunderstood and confused. But here there are real people who share the same struggles and victories and we have Kathy and Laura and we have each other. You know…we’re a pretty wonderful group of people.
Tweet! Tweet!
Hi All,
Thank you for your kind words Wren. I feel that I do not give back a fraction of what I have received from my friends here who have inspired, encouraged and amazed me over the past three years I have been coming here. This is a sacred, safe space for me. And yes, I feel immeasurable awe and sincere gratitude to Kathy for her generousity of time, insight and space for us here. Although, I am wondering if she feels a bit like she has created a monster with all of our postings of late that are filling up the website and making work with monitoring and all!
I agree – we are a pretty wonderful group of people!!!
A big old — HOOT HOOT — from this old owl.
f tes me
wmn b bitis
i hat wmn
ol wmn go awa 🙁
wmn lef u in the rod an wok awa😒
wmn ol li 😠
wmn iz stpd
no balev dem fokrs😠
ol dm pla trix on u 😡
if mi mom no wt me no1 du
mom pt me awa
al wimn wil git rid uv me
no wnt
hr li
al grls li
dt tst wimn
wimn hrt me
its btr tu hiyd
i hat muvrs dae 😕
What did my mom teach me? Definitely NOT what your mom taught you Kathy. I am utterly amazed. Kindness is shocking to me. I always notice. Thank you for choosing kindness as a Therapist. You didn’t have to but you did.
Oh so beautifully said Hurt Ones. I hope that you come to know, feel and practice accepting kindness here. You deserve kindness and the community has an abundance to offer you here beginning with the Queen of Kindness – Kathy.
ME+WE
05/15/2018
Wow…this is a lot of food for thought…I am not even really sure…..in one sense – she kept my sister and me alive when we were premature….she cooked lots of pancakes for me before I went to school (I had two hollow legs for pancakes), she somehow always fixed a meal even when there wasn’t much to work with, she worked a job and kept the house up…she even convinced Daddy to let me have a dissecting kit and small microscope for Christmas when I was about 13 (even though he thought it was ridiculous) – I was fascinated with seeing “hidden stuff” and how stuff “fit together” …. all of those things were “good”……
But, I do not remember any real type of “emotional” connection to her….more like we were just two people and she was supposed to take care of us because we were littler than her…..I watched her “walk on eggshells” around Daddy, her rushing to put plates on the table just before he got home from work – even though she herself had just gotten home….her reasoning that even though she hadn’t had a moment to start cooking supper…in his mind – plates on the table meant she was fixing supper and so he wouldn’t get upset with her……
Seeing her just standing there…the pained, frozen look on her face when Daddy “corrected” us…her reasoning was that if she tried to stop him it made things worse for us (which it did)….her pained silence when he humiliated and demeaned her in front of someone…..When I was hospitalized in the early 90’s – the psychiatrist asked “What was the most frequent thing you ever heard your father say to your mother?”….I didn’t even have to stop and think….I already knew….it was “Shut up”……
I do know that Ma’s childhood was rough….a large vocal family of “weekend” alcoholics…she would shake like a leaf on her bus ride home from school – terrified that when she opened the door to go inside – everybody would be dead from having killed each other….I guess she married the only thing she knew……
Evidently this is something I need to work on – ’cause I feel REALLY lost right now……
MissyMing
02/09/19