The Invisibility of Being.

Throughout my life I've been pretty thin-skinned, listening to others tell me what I should/shouldn't be, what and how I should think, do, say, dream... developed into an art form for me that damn near reached "Spidey Power" status.  No, seriously.  I would take and wear whatever anyone projected upon me like a shiny pair of Jimmy Choo's.  And trust me when I say that two-sizes too small absolutely made a difference in how I felt and carried myself through life.

Barefoot is better.  Know what happens when you go barefoot the majority of the time?  The soles of your feet get pretty damn tough.  Having grown up poor I had only one pair of shoes (cheap) at a time and wasn't really allowed to wear them outside if I were just playing in the yard, etc.  They had to last until my mom decided we could afford more.  I think I had the toughest feet of anyone I've ever known because of this.  The only thing that really hurt me was if I stepped on glass (which I did a few times, once landing me in the ER to have the glass removed), and when that California asphalt and concrete got hot enough to fry an egg on.  Even so, over time walking barefoot didn't bother me one single bit.

But what about the INSIDE?  Oh, but that was a whole different story altogether.  I couldn't walk my way through through the pain to being 'thick-skinned' and pretty much felt the weight of anything and everything that was said to me.  Criticism became truth, a 'reality' handed to me that I willingly took.  My childhood experiences weren't filled with encouragement or praise nor even helpful criticism.  Indifference and criticism, and many times complete withdrawal of love and affection were the tools used to shape the person I would become.

I was to become the child who survived.

In adulthood, that small child I once was is alive, and though not well, that part of me is AWARE.  There is still a disconnection of who 'that little girl' was and who I am now, and I still see photos of when I was little and feel such pity for 'that little girl.'  Yes, I know it's me, of course.  But the disconnection is still there just the same.  I want SO much to apologize to her and say "I'm sorry I didn't protect you!"

I've accepted this disconnection as a part of who I am, but I don't like it one single bit.  C'est la vie.

I remain thin-skinned, but my reaction to criticism, disrespect, and so forth is very different now.  I've allowed history to repeat itself in relationships I've had, and the reality of this has unprecedented tenure, so it would seem.  It will be with me the rest of my life.  Okay.  I'll just have to work around that when possible, right?

So here I am all grown up and stuff.  I can make decisions, change my mind, and walk away from anyone or anything that threatens my happiness; such are the benefits of being an adult.  Right?  Well, not exactly.  At least not for me.  That subconscious, that inner child, the child I actually WAS at one time so long ago, well.. she has a mind of her own and remembers the pain, the isolation, the indifference, the coldness, the invisibility of being... well, me.

Such memories carry over for the long-haul and map the course of life in often undesirable ways.  But it doesn't always have to be like that.  I can do more to help myself in that respect.  And I do.

On bad days, of which I have far too many these days, that inner child is the one who suffers most.  Sure, I feel the physical pain, and I feel the isolation of my situation and all it invokes (depression, anxiety, etc).  But it's what happens INSIDE that changes my world, my life.  All I can do is anesthetize myself with too much coffee, reading, and way too much television.  My physical body simply refuses to allow much more these days.  That's okay, because eventually the AIH and the 'possible' Myositis, both autoimmune, is driving the bus now, and not even my inner child can rebel against that and affect change.

Sitting here in the quiet, drinking coffee, talking about things I've not talked with a single other human being about...well, but for one therapist for a very short time, I can definitely say I recognize my life as it was, and as it still is; The invisibility of being... me.

For those who've left comments... THANK YOU!

So it seems comment notifications haven't been working in a VERY long time, so if you've left comments and I didn't reply please know it's because I didn't realize anyone had left any.  Blogger seems to have fixed this.. for now.

I appreciate everyone's feedback, more than I can find words to describe really.  I guess, with the exception of those I know 'in person,' or those who contact me via social networking or email, etc., I often wonder if I'm just shouting or whispering into the wind here.

It was my hope that sharing my own experiences would help others, or make people laugh, or think... well, then it's all well worth it, especially with regards to "This Free Spirit," which was created to help work my way to a healing place post-abuse and hoping to help others along the way know they're not alone.

So again, if you've left comments on any of the entries on any of the blogs and I haven't respond.. I will.  And hopefully Blogger's notification system re comments will continue to work!

Blessings and thanks to all of you...

Because the Discussion Changes

It's not in one place.  If you're new here, this is what you need to know about my blogs.  The problem with putting all thoughts into one place is that looking for relevant information becomes a treasure hunt of sorts where you only find the dragon in the end, rather than the gold. Okay, so I'm not saying what I have to say from one day or one moment to the next is 'gold,' but my sense of humor is working overtime today... just bear with me on that, okay? ;)

This Free Spirit is one such place, the newest in the corridors here.  It's kind of my safe place, in a way, though visiting the ghosts of the past is often the case.  "Abuse Bonds Broken" is, for me, a way to help myself, and to help others, who've dealt with malignant narcissists.  It's really not always about the worst of the situation, nor is it always just about purging the demons.  My goal there is to help, but to also bring healing for myself in the process.  And process, I do.. more times than not, this is exactly what I'm doing there.

The stories and such aren't often pretty.  But life with a narcissist and emotional abuser rarely is, right?  In essence--you're not going to find unicorns there.

Where Fireflies Dream is a place where the sun is SUPPOSED to shine a little brighter, where life is a little lighter, fuller....  But let's face it; as life smacks me up-side the head on occasion, the lines between the great and not-so-great begin to blur.  In essence--you won't often find unicorns here either.  But I'm trying...

All Things Ephemeral .... because the discussion changes.  This was the original blog, the one where most of the laughter, contemplation, silliness, passion, and tears were cast upon the pages.  It was overwhelming at first, really, because there were NO lines drawn between anything; it began as a place to purge anything and everything.  This also used to result in many posts being deleted.  Yes, I still do that on occasion, delete posts, but very rarely now.

Boo's Juicy Bits  Well, now THIS one has gone absolutely rogue, I have to admit.  It began when I started juicing, then evolved as I embarked on a healthier diet, then went completely rogue because of the health issues that have come on board.  This blog... let's just say ANYTHING could end up here.

Why?  Because the discussion changes!  And because we live in a world that has become increasingly indifferent, where people can't 'concern' themselves with the emotions, experiences, etc. of another human being.  This is not accusatory, by the way.  It's simply a sad fact.

While not everyone is safely wading in that comfortable pool of ones own life, some are simply unable to step out... be vulnerable.  No matter.  These blogs... are just me stepping out of that comfortable place.

"Cause every time is the last time..."