hi joy, welcome
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I was thinking this morning, my mother is like a piranha that smells blood in the water - then attacks! Her email was bait. It is so typical of her. She can point at me and clearly say "SEE, SHE'S THE CRAZY ONE I just sent out a nice email to everyone (never mind 90% of her emails spew pure hatred - something she should have directed back at her father, who abused and molested her, and her mother, who sat by and did nothing).
Mom - I am tired of taking the brunt of your abuse. I'm tired of feeling sorry cause Dad is not emotionally available for you. I am tired of being sad for my situation and our family....just plain tired. I want to fill my life with love and joy, not pain and bitterness. I see no way to do that and have contact with you and other toxic people in our family that are so entrenched in denial, they cannot feel Anything. Sadness or joy. You've managed to create robots from most of your children. Not me though. I'm not a robot - I feel. I love, I hurt, I heal and I am me.
I will not let you continue to take away my personal power. My power to be independent, my power to make decisions for myself (right wrong or indifferent), my power to learn from my mistakes, and my power to be my own person - not an appendage of an N. You no longer get to tell me "THE WAY IT IS" through your distorted lens. I get to make my own decisions about the world, see - cause you no longer create the world I live in artificially. I am not held in bondage by you. I've set myself free. I am no longer your prisoner, your accomplice, nor your enemy. All of these things are equally supressing, equally stiffling, equally putrid as they all lead to Death. Death of my soul, of who I truly am, my true being and spirit.
Dear Dad,
I'm writing you off too. I don't know why I always forget that you were the other primary plotter in my demise. You and Mom set off together to destroy me. You tried your damnedest over the last 34 years. You see, because you felt that if you killed my spirit, then you could be alive. That is the way an N sees their supply, as a living thing that needs to be extricated, else it will take over and thrive, like a bad parasite, stuck to ones dorsal. You were like the piranha that held back while your mate attacked. You tried to make it seem like you were in fact holier than tho, cause it was not you yourself who committed the murder. But you planned it. And you brainwashed others to carry out your deed. So in my mind, that is the greater crime, Dad. You are so weak, you cannot even commit your own sins, you have to enlist help to do it. I never thought you were strong, although you wanted me to think so. I never gave you that and I never will. I will always see you for the wretched coward you are!
last night I wrote this:
Dear Mom,
You hardly deserve that title. I think I shall call you My Genetic Procreator (MGP).
Dear MGP,
I guess this means that I still hate you, which means I still wish things could have been different. Every time you write me and try to gloss over the past, the things you did to me, the things you did to our family, the things you let my other MGP (Dad) do – without ever speaking up in my defense, in feel a bit smaller. You kill another small piece of me. I’m surprised you have not totally wiped me out now, in my 34th year. Were it not for several hiatuses, perhaps I would be dead. You’d be gleaning as much attention and sympathy from that event, as is un-humanly possible, I’m sure.
MGP – are these projections? You betcha. They are your projections onto me, and I’m giving them back with full force. I will not allow you to Define me. I will not allow you to take little bean’s fire, her spirit, her sense of kindness and humanity, her curiosity about nature, her love of human and animal-kind, her sense of wonderment, her joy, and her precious contribution to this world any longer. You cannot have her see, cause she was never Yours to “own.” I am my own person and always have. Although this road has been hard and scary for me, I am coming out of the woods, no longer the lost wounded refugee I once felt I was. I have found my refuge and it is God and life, and you’ve never been able to successfully take that from me, because that is my spirit and it lives within me. You’ve tried your damnedest, I know, but now you’ll admit defeat, cause you have not won. I am the winner, and I am the only participant worthy enough to fight in your battle – cause you, my opponent, are Nothing. You are nothing to me, and you have no power over me any longer. In fact, you never did. It just felt like that and seemed like it.
When I was a little girl, I remember dreaming that I was left on a doorstep by strangers, and I really believed this to be true for quite some time, because I never fit in, nor understood why our family worked in the dysfunctional way it did. I always knew you were abusive, and my heart felt Dad’s abuse too. A heart does not lie, nor speak untruths about these matters. My heart could tell, it could feel the “wrongs” it could feel the true evil, and it knew and still knows the TRUTH.
Truth is not a concept, it is not something vague that you can just bat around at whim. Truth is concrete, and it is real, and it is as stark and naked as a large canyon looming in front of you, that is cold and snowy that I must cross. Nothing unreal about survival. There is nothing unreal about bitter coldness. There is nothing unreal about my frozen fingers, and stifled breath, and air so cold it hurts to inhale, and ever breath is like ether – both intoxicating and biting. It is this kind of stark reality that enables me to see the huge chasm you have dug between my heart and yours – how could you do this to your own kin? What kind of monster are you? Or are you just so hardened and embittered that you will never see what you really are?
I think of you as a very small larva. Something grotesque and putrid green, and rotting in the murk, living with the roaches, not fit for human consumption.
I cannot even fathom how or why one would hurt a child. Yet you did this to me, slowly, erosive, over many hours and days and years. You did not even possess the decency to get it over with quickly, nor where you consistent – you toyed with me, you gave me false hope, you led me to believe that I should love you, and then you might consider loving me back – although you never seriously considered that, and you certainly did not deserve it either.
In all the strength of my being, I cannot now muster the resolve to hate you. It is just not in me. I see that you are small and weak, and pitiful and undeserving of my hatred. You are nothing. You are not even worth the effort it takes to push a single keystroke, on my tiny pinky. You are not even worth the energy in one synapses. You are not worth the electrons it takes to fire a single atom to light a single thought to fuel a single bit of data, billions of which would make up this word: NO. You are not even worth that. You have not taken my power, I will not give it to you willingly.
You will not see that you’ve created your own clone. I will not hate, I will love. I will make the world a better place, it will be good for me and my kind, we will have nothing to do with you. We will waste less thoughts on evil and greed, jealousy and gluttony, then that which might fit on the area of this period. In other words, I will become nothing like you. I am already and always have been nothing like you or your projections onto me. You have not succeeded in hybridizing your fears and my soul. We are not miscible, we are explosive opposites. I repel you with the force of an 80 megaton nuclear fission reaction. I repel you such that the blast would carry this planet, and this world into an adjoining solar system. You cannot find me there. I will not hide. You cannot find me because you cannot see. You have never seen me. I stand in front of you, a glorious being, deserving and worthy of love, but yet you had nothing to give. I’m sorry you were blind. I’m sorry you have limitations. But I am not sorry I am me. I have always been beautiful – my heart is pure.
that's all
goodbye
bean
