I believe in miracles.
Not the rock your world, holy saints and rising apparitions kind of miracles. But rather, the light shifting, change your life, in this moment kind of miracle that takes you by the hand and guides you home. The kind of miracle that awakens you to the truth that this moment is all you’ve got. The kind of miracle that says, grab me and run with me or lose the miracle of your life forever.
I know about miracles like that. I got one on a sunny May morning five years ago when I had given myself up for dead. Well, not dead-dead, but rather, the walking breathing dead kind of living that leeches all energy from your body and leaves you without hope of ever finding a way back to the land of the living.
My miracle appeared in the form of a blue and white police car driving up and arresting the sociopath who had been lying and cheating and manipulating and abusing me for the length of our four year nine month relationship.
When first we’d met I thought his name was Prince Charming. I loved the view of the short cut to happiness he promised me and jumped onto the runaway train of his promises of happily ever after. I never expected to find myself lost in hell, in cahoots with the Prince of Darkness and praying for a miracle I didn’t believe I deserved, to set me free.
But then, that’s the funny thing about miracles. They don’t come looking for believers. They just appear, like stars in a darkened sky coming out at night. It’s not that they weren’t there all along, it’s just lost in the pit of despair, we lose sight of the miracles around us. Too frightened to open our eyes in the blinding light of day, we shut out the world and crawl into the cave of desperation, shutting ourselves off from belief and hope and possibility and even miracles.
It was a miracle the police found us. He was hiding out, trying to escape the country, and I was hiding behind the smile I’d pasted on my face, pretending to be the person he told me to be, or else. The miracle saved me from finding out what the ”˜or else’ might be.
Looking back, it was a miracle I was still alive. I had seventy-two cents in my pocket, a few clothes and my beautiful Golden Retriever, Ellie, who had travelled that rocky road beside me, faithfully keeping step to my faltering footsteps as I travelled further and further from life as I knew it.
I don’t know who said this, but I find it very powerful, “Change is the essence of life. Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become.”
On that day in May, five years ago, I knew I didn’t get a miracle to live in pain and sorrow. I knew I got the miracle to live in joy. But, in the process of losing myself on the road to hell, I had become someone I didn’t recognize, someone I didn’t love. I knew I had to change. I feared I didn’t know how.
Change is always possible. Ending something that isn’t working for me requires me to change what I’m doing. When I awoke from that relationship, there was very little that was working in my life. So much was broken, so much was in disarray.
To change my life, I had to surrender my disease and embrace my ability to heal. To heal, I had to change the anger into forgiveness. The sorrow into laughter. The hatred into love. I had to let go of who I had become on that journey and fall into love with who I could become in healing by letting go of my fear of falling and learning how to fly free from the pain of the past.
And so, on that morning in May when my world changed and I began to see there was light beyond the darkness, I grabbed my miracle and set out to recover my joy. Step by step. Moment by moment. And, in the process I uncovered the greatest miracle of my life. Me.
I believe in miracles. I am one.
The question is: What do you believe in? Do you believe you’re some big cosmic experiment gone awry in one hopelessly lost human being, or a miracle of life, unique and magnificent, a shining example of the best of human being, full of possibilities, endlessly in love with the wonder and the miracle of being you?
Free,
I laughed this morning at your post. I identify. My xhusband and then the next sociopath I got involved with took such a toll on me I had a hard time functioning also. It wasn’t that my x was unclean he just put me down for everything I did including my housework. So, it just became harder and harder to maintain. I keep an organized, clean home for my children and I. I love it. I do it for me, I do it for them. LOVE IT!!! I am so much more present when things are structured. Mind you we live in a home not a museum. Balance. I am feeling the healing the past few weeks I have made some progress. I feel so happy. I want the women to know who are still suffering and to afraid to begin recovering…”come on in the WATERS great!!!!”
Wow LilOrphan. You sound as though you have just made a breakthrough in your perceptions. It took me over 50 years to realise that I was living a life that was just as restricted as the life I had conned myself out of thinking that I wasnt living, if that makes sense. I was rearranging the scenery but the play just wasnt happening? I read my way through thousands of self help books and had many courses, workshops etc. Just having the facade lift can be very shocking at first and grieving for all those lost opportunities and waste of time and energy. But that is part of developing and seeing the illusions that underpin all of our lives. Transformations can be hard work but awe inspiring. I so identify with what you say about yourself. I took was very competitive had to try harder than everyone else, be better, but I wasnt coming up with the goods, because deep down this facade just covered a fundamental gap where I felt I had never been loved for being me.
As a young child I used to clean the whole house just so my mother could say I was a good girl (that was as good as it got), then I was put in a home at 6, so I had plenty of messages to tell me I was unloveable. It has taken me a whole lifetime to value myself and I am still working on it. Being diagnosed with cancer has brought me closer to this prospect and it is hard to dispense with habits of a lifetime. We may have loved unhealthily in the past with partners, but the fact is that we DO know how to love, its just redefining that energy.
I had a little extra time to read some of these posts today. Sleeping with the Enemy came up. I relate. I used to wake up in a sweat,gasping for breath, I never let him meet my children, he was rarely in my home yet I would have nightmares about him just being near me. And I would panic. There are some people I have to deal with in my life. Say, a coworker or such. Why would I choose a mate who makes me feels so sick? Why would I choose to sleep with the enemy? I know I was brainwashed, I know he studied me for months. He knew what he was doing. What scares me the most is that I felt these red flags and ignored them. It’s different now. The nice guys areno longer invisible to me. I see them. I take my time. I don’t let anyone rush me. I’ve found my pace. And I like it. (EASY SMILE) When Free wrote back to my post this morning a chill went down my spine. it’s him — he’s going to contact me. See how the isolation works in his favor. I am not afraid to live my life and heal, but am I still afraid of him? UH yeah he’s a sociopath.. I’m afraid of Hanibal Lecter too!!!! It was in an earlier post that when an animal smells fear it runs, not me, not my ego I say I can take it!!! Or I can fix it. Can take it, can’t fix it. I think I will stay on top of my own life..
ooohh and what is up with my urge to spy? TO see if it is happening to the next girl? EEEWWWWW I do not like that about myself. It should not make me feel better that someone else is in pain. Sorry I had to throw that up.
Dear Orphan,
I am glad that you had an “Ah Ha” moment. I have been haivng them left and right since I got out of the damned FOG.
Like Aloha said “INFORMED DENIAL” (Gosh I love that! Says so MUCH in only 2 words) LOL Thanks again Aloha!
I have been looking at the PATTERNS of my own behavior, patterns of family members’ behaviors and trying to see what is going on OUTSIDE OF THE DENIAL. After you have DENIED for so long I think it is difficult to SEE what you SEE>
Example, let’s say your kids spill red Koolaid in your living room in the middle of white carpet—you get as much out as you can, but there is still a STAIN there, but you get used to it and after a while you don’t “see it” any more, but someone from the OUTSIDE who doesn’t visit your house often, when they walk in the door IT IS THE FIRST THING THEY SEE.
If they mention it you can look at it but not be “offended” by it because it has been part of your life for so long.
I think our “behaviors” and the “tolerations” we develop as we grow up observing our FOOs are the same way as the stain on the carpet—we just get “used to them” and accept them as “business as usual” rather than something GLARING. We are BLINDED to what is OBVIOUS to the outsider. That is why we fail to see them. Why we accept the abuse.
Being “punished” for being “angry” is part of it–we may not be beaten for it, but we get the idea that “being angry” is NOT OK, so we learn to supress it, and “not feel angry at people for long” NO MATTER WHAT THEY HAVE DONE to us or others.
Being ANGRY when you are “injured” is NORMAL, but our FOOS can tell us it is “wrong” and that we must not FEEL it,, so being survivors we learn to NOT FEEL what we are told is “wrong.” Not that we don’t actually FEEL it we just cover it with DENIAL–and baby, that AIN’T A RIVER IN EGYPT.
I believe that NO ONE is capable of TRUE “unconditional love” because if we are ABUSED enough by someone we love, we will quit loving them. I think that only GOD can truly love us unconditionally. Our parents when we are little of course should be TOLERANT of our bad behavior and reassure us that it is US that they love not just our behavior, but as we become adults if we start to abuse our parents or anyone else, we are NO longer entitled to “UNconditional” love if our abusive behavior is enough to warrant NC or other sanctions.
I am sure that others may feel differently about this but I no longer “love” my P-son, as a man, I love the memory of the wonderful child he WAS but what he IS is not something that I love at all. It is not just his behavior that is EVIL, it is HIM that is evil–through and through. “As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he” (KJV Bible)
Parents who pick a Golden Child and label another Scape Goat do great disservice to both their children. Fostering Entltlement in the one and poor self esteem in the other. These “family roles” are assigned for life scripts, and I can see now that in my FOO that if one person who holds a role dies, someone else will be asisgned to step up to assume that role, even if it means a 180 CHANGE in their former role.
My mother stepped up to assume the role of “peacemaker” AT ANY price, “be NICE….. or I WILL KILL YOU” LOL
She appointed my P-son as both Golden Child of the family (because he was male and talented) and I became the “scape goat” because I could never please her or her expectations of the family roles—I was female to start with, and that was enough to assign me the SG role–
Some of these “scripts and games” become DEADLY SERIOUS if you don’t willingly play your role to keep the “family status quo”
At best, yyou are unable to live a life free and unfettered from assigned roles, but at worst, you may be severely punished if you refuse to play your “part.”
I think it is only when we are FREE TO FEEL our feelings, that we can work toward freedom of being US.
Setting limits without guilt, enforcing boundaries without guilt is my first step toward FREEDOM from my assigned “role.” It was only after I finally went NC with my mother and got away from her efforts to make me re-connect with the family “script” and play my role that I was able to come out of the FOG….I am still working on seeing the “spots on the carpet” and I think there may be a BUNCH OF THEM. LOL
I like what Lil Orphan said about love meaning something different now. My wires were so crossed before. I was set up to meet one of these guys with my crooked belief system. My fantaises….how great of a fantasy if a guy was only abusing to everyone else but ME!!!! Because I am sooo damn special. Anyone read EAT PRAY LOVE??? I love the world today and I don’t want to be with someone who abuses or abused women. When lil orphan said love meant safe I said yeah … safe to be me. Safe to be a full blown human being with her own heartbeat. Admired and I would like to give that all right back to someone. By the way, I like you guys and your carrots!!
LilOrphan,
I was “blocked” too for a long time and still am to a certain extent. I didn’t allow myself to be angry with anyone either because that would cause conflict that I was PETRIFIED of (and still am). I get this fluttery feeling in my chest and my first reaction is to run as fast as I can from the situation. Childhood abuse is humiliating and agonizing and I always have the idea that when I get into a conflict, it will be as bad and humiliating as the abuse, although I know intelectually that that’s not true.
It is safe to be angry at the world or unseen forces because we know it will never result in confrontation. No one will respond to our rants so we don’t have to worry about humiliation. We know we won’t be questioned by those distant people and ideas that we allow ourselves to be mad at. But we can’t practice healthy conflict if we don’t try it out, if we’re always avoiding it like the plague.
This is something that I have been trying to work on recently. Facing those terrifying situations and being candid enough to stick up for myself so that I don’t have the chance to run away. Because when I do, I end up feeling guilty about it and even though the other person was the one who challenged my boundaries, I feel bad for avoiding them and the situation. It becomes my fault. I don’t want to feel guilty for nothing anymore. I have been facing things more lately and it feels really really good. I don’t feel like I have to worry if others are mad at me because if I do things honestly and transparently and am clear about my boundaries, they have no reason to be. If they are mad anyway, I will know they’re assholes. lol And I don’t care if assholes get mad at me.
Ariadne:
Because when I do, I end up feeling guilty about it and even though the other person was the one who challenged my boundaries, I feel bad for avoiding them and the situation. It becomes my fault. I don’t want to feel guilty for nothing anymore.
Yes, that’s just it. That was the point of my post to tmasser the other day, who I felt affinity for because I understood the words of her inner struggle and the worry about guilt.
In childhood abuse, you are not only the victim of the abuse but are also made as scapegoat. After all, when denial stops working for them they need another approach and blame is right there, handily waiting.
With this comes heaps of shame and guilt. Which contributes to being unable or afraid to express anger or have confrontations, out of fear of not being loved or accepted when angry. Voicelessness, again.
So where does that voice go? For some people, it goes underground. That’s me. I did some very strange things in response to the guy when I thought he violated my boundaries or something he did angered me and I was afraid to directly express it.
But what the hell? If he was gonna leave, he just would’ve left sooner than later! So why didn’t I speak up for myself and my needs? If I don’t learn to do that, I am practically a walking beacon to bad men. And sublimating those feelings, acting out in a different, hidden way, while not quite as bad as splintering them off, is still unhealthy and toxic.
I think I was somewhat like this with all my relationships, to greater and lesser degrees, inauthentic even though my soul was crying out to be open and free. Which is what I am with my children and friends, quite a different person altogether. It’s who I am when I write, too, because as you say, there’s no fear in confrontation at that level.
I say exactly what I feel inside, good, bad, indifferent and know that it is my true self, or as Virginia Woolf said, writing is your soul speaking. In writing, brain and heart are directly connected with fingers and there’s no second guessing, no fear, no self-monitoring because you’re afraid of not being accepted.
If we don’t “unblock” we’ll never have the joy of healthy, happy relationships unless we encounter a particularly strong, loving soul who is willing to be patient or we begin a relationship from a safe distance – online, or as friends.
This explains why my friend fell in love with me after awhile of knowing me but my “boyfriends” never do — I became safe and comfortable enough to expose my heart to my friend. Unfortunately, I did not love him that way.
It also explains why people have fallen in love with me from my online writing. Crazy, but true – I’ve had more than a few people try to begin relationships with me over the years after they started reading my blog regularly. And it’s not a case of “you can be anything across the Internet.” You can, but for me, when writing I am utterly, fearlessly and steadfastly true to myself!
By the way, I took the first step today towards official healing. Woo-hoo! Now if they’d call back to set an appointment that would be grand. If it weren’t for coming here, am not sure that I’d have been brave enough to get past the initial barrier feelings about therapy. So, thanks, wonderful people.
Oxdrover. I had much the same, my mother having just had my brother couldnt manage the two of us alone, so she sent me off into care at age of 6. This was the first of many messages I got that said that my brother was more cared for than I was. I rebelled because of this and because I look like my father, which they both hated, I became the perfect scapegoat. what I hadnt realised at the time, was that in my anger, I was allowing myself to be the scapegoat and have limited my options in life. It is only since my encounter with the N in its most extreme way that I was forced to vote for myself. he was draining me so much, I remember saying to a friend ‘Its him or me – and its got to be me’. When I was with him, I found myself being quite subservient to please him, I just couldnt help myself, it was automatic. never again though. These family scripts have alot to answer for as I have always said, they can set the template for your life.
What I am trying to say is that it is well known that children under pressure react one of two ways, they either become introverted or rebellious. I was (and still can be) rebellious and have always said what I feel and think, but that has not stopped me being abused by different people, who will do what they will do, despite my protestations – especially so with the N – I questionned his behaviour and reacted the whole time, because I didnt understand it, but it didnt stop him doing it. In a way, because he never showed ‘his game’ it gave him to edge. I suppose the bottom line is that we never really expect things to turn out as we expect at times with people.
Dear Orphan,
I am so glad that you decided to go to therapy—a good therapist, and keep in mind that they are not all excellent must be one that understands Ps. If they don’t know as much ab out Ps as you do, get another therapist. NOt all of them get the Ps or really know that much about them. Fortunately, mine do.
Learning to set boundaries is the most liberating thing I can imagine right now, and it is so great not to feel guilty, that I don’t have to apologize for letting my foot get stomped under their poor tender feet.
Owning your own problems is the best way, and demanding that others own THEIR problems as well. It makes life so much simpler when the only problems you have are yours. It will also suprise you how FEW problems YOU have, if all you are dealing with are your own problems. ((((BIG Hugs))))) Oxy