Freedom ROCKS

Our survivor and EFB global community event “Freedom ROCKS” will this coming weekend on May 12^th and 13^th.  Today I am happy to have Mimi share her story about what Freedom ROCKS represents to her. I hope you will consider sharing this no cost virtual event with others. For information on how you can get involved see the Freedom ROCKS about page here. ~ Darlene

 The Motivation Behind Freedom ROCKS! By Mimi

Hello Everyone! My name is Mimi, and I am excited and honored to celebrate “Freedom ROCKS”.  For me this event will represent taking my life and power back, once and for all. I am 43 years old, and for the majority of my life, I’ve been in the shadow of my abuser; under her thumb. I have continually tried to fit into the perfect little box she designed. The box had very rigid walls and came with fine lines and stringent expectations. Nearly every decision or thought of my own has been run through my internal filter that separated out ideas or actions that would be viewed as impressive, acceptable, weak, wealthy, good enough, strong, mentally ill, poor, unacceptable, trashy, classy, lazy, smart, foolish, stupid, entitled, guilty, judged, loathed, an embarrassment, dependent. The list goes on.

There has been a black cloud over my head that enveloped all these implications and consequences for as far back as I can remember. The cloud has prevented me from living a life of independence, self love, self acceptance, self esteem, affection, freedom, equal value, and that list goes on as well. It meticulously dictated a life of anxiety, fear, depression, self hatred, self injury, rage, mental illness, addictions, withdrawal, social fears, phobias, uncontrollable emotions, and an overall sense of being caged up. I’ve carried this baggage along in life and it has affected every close relationship I’ve had, my professional life, my decisions, and my education.

I was not the same as my siblings. They somehow managed to stay within the lines most of the time. They were high achievers. I was a disappointment in every way I can imagine. I consistently made poor decisions according to my abuser. I was bullied, verbally, and emotionally abused, and neglected because I couldn’t measure up. There were a few times I was physically abused as well, but for me, that didn’t leave the marks on my soul quite like not being good enough, or loved and accepted for the person I am. I was the scapegoat. I was brainwashed to believe that my abuser came before me. Her emotions and her pain were more important than mine. I had no value. I was to put everything aside to attend to how things affected her, even when it came to my own illness. My thoughts and feelings meant nothing, and I was trained to believe that. Until last year, I did believe it.

The rigid rules were established to maintain appearances, at all costs. If we were well dressed and closed mouthed, all was well. It was called tough love by my abuser. The mixed message was, there was no “love” in it; only “tough”. My life has been absent of affection, words of love or encouragement, support, and acceptance by my abuser. If child rearing and/or tough love means providing a roof, food, and clothing, then my parents did a stellar job. (my father was a raging alcoholic who left when I was 11. His only representation in the family dynamic was one of alcohol and violence). Affection, human touch, acceptance, and loving words and hugs were replaced by insults, demeaning insinuations, lies, gossip, manipulation, triangulation, projection, brutal consequences, and confirmation that I was a big nothing on a direct flight to loserville. In the secret dialogue within the walls of our home, my abuser convinced me that she was all I had, that her opinion of me was accurate, and that all of my family, extended and immediate, agreed with her. I had no one to turn to who would believe MY story. I have finally learned that the only person who needs to believe my story is me.

The key attached to my freedom rock represents a locked door. Behind that door is a closet that holds all of the insults, manipulation, lies, gossip, abuse, powerlessness, false beliefs, pain, and every self abusive thought or action they represent. Attaching the key to a rock means it can never resurface. It will sit at the bottom of the lake drowning out all the whispers of disapproval, lack of acceptance and love, and it will drag the black cloud down with it.

Please join me and others in the event that will symbolize our freedom. Knowing we’re all doing it together forms a network of strength and support for each other. Together we can celebrate freedom, because FREEDOM ROCKS!!

With Hope,

Mimi

As always please feel free to share your comments with Mimi and I and the other readers here. Think about what Freedom ROCKS could mean to you.  For more information about Freedom ROCKS and how you can participate see the Freedom ROCKS “about page” here. Stay tuned for more posts and info. You may want to sign up for updates in the right side bar. (look for the confirmation email when you sign up)  There will also be updates on the Facebook Page for Emerging from Broken ~ Darlene Ouimet, founder of Emerging from Broken.

Related posts ~ Going forward; Looking back ~ the process of emotional healing

Not being Heard and finding my Voice

freedom ~ my grown son T.

I was not always who I am today. I was not strong. I was not independent. I was not an individual. I was not often happy. I was not a voice in the darkness and although I always had a desire to advocate for others, I was not effective.

I had to become effective in my own life before I was effective in the lives of others.

I was a victim. Some would rather I say that I was a survivor but in truth when I started this process I was still a victim. I was still a victim because I was still oppressed. I was still under the law of other people. I was still compliant and obedient. I was still defined by those other people and my true identity was suppressed.

I was lost, withdrawn and depressed. I was owned by many and disrespected by most.  I had three kids and when my oldest, who was 12 at the time started to treat me like I was ‘crazy’ and started using my depression as proof that I was crazy ~  just like his father (my husband) did, I knew that I had reached the end of what I could cope with. I was giving up on the fight for my life. The only decision that I had to make was how I was going to end it. I had to decide if I was going to escape, or if I was going to fight to find the solution one last time.

At first I had decided to leave my family. I thought that my husband and my three kids would be better off without me because I believed that I was the problem. I believed it deep down in my heart and soul because that was the message that I had always been given, all of my life and I never thought not to accept that message anymore.  The truth had been distorted for me since the beginning. I didn’t even question the truth as I knew it.  I believed the problem was “me” and I really believed that if I left my family, their lives would be so much easier; so much better.  I decided out of love for them that I should quietly go. But something nagged at me and today I know it was a glimmer of “the truth”.  It was NOT best for anyone if I were to just go.

I realized that for a very long time I learned to do what others wanted because I had been so totally convinced that what they wanted for me was ‘right’ because I had been so manipulated all my life. This was part of taking my life back from my oppressors. I started to look at what might be right for me. I started to think about what I might want and what was ‘best’ for me. I learned that most times “best” is best for everyone and not just best for me; it always comes down to the motive. What had happened to me most of my life was never best for me; it was just what someone else selfishly wanted.

As I started to look at HOW I had come to believe that the problem was me, I began to realize that I had been controlled and manipulated all my life by people who asked me to “try harder”. Trying harder was a default mode for me. As long as I believed I was the one that had to “try harder” I accepted that success in relationship and whether or not I was loved was all up to me.   

I write about “Emerging from Broken” from real experience. I lived functioning at a fraction of the level that I function at today. I survived living under the oppression and suppression of others. I survived by believing that if I did what “they” want and if I am who “they” want me to be, I would be loved. I was so brainwashed in victim mentality (that if I did what they wanted they would love me) that I could not see a solution other than leaving the world that I lived in.

I found a way to leave the world that I lived in by facing the damage that had been caused to me. I didn’t have to “go” anywhere. I literally stepped out of it by seeing how dysfunctional and harmful that it had been and still was.  I learned to validate my pain and declare that I had a right to my feelings, I had a right to my voice, I had been wronged and it WAS NOT my fault.   I finally owned my truth and discarded the lies that I had been encouraged to believe my entire life by realizing exactly what those lies were and how those lies were all designed by others who wanted to keep and maintain control over me. I learned to take care of myself emotionally.  I learned to love myself. And through all of this, I found myself. I found the original me and I embraced myself. I welcomed myself into a whole new world and a whole new existence.

I stayed with my husband and my children and we rebuilt our lives. I took the lead even though it was a fight for the first two years. No one in our home wanted anything to change but I wanted healing and I was willing to risk everything in order to obtain it. In my victim mentality I had actually taught my husband and kids to disregard my needs and even my opinions by disregarding them myself. They didn’t trust that I could model “emotional health”.

My husband had to do his own healing work and he did; I finally embraced the truth that it takes two to have a relationship and I was finally able to communicate that to him. I was no longer willing to carry the burden of relationship all by myself. We repaired the damage that had been done to us all of our lives and that we had in turn passed on by accepting and living in those false definitions of love. When our individual healing work was underway, we worked really hard to repair the damage and dysfunction in our marriage relationship and then in the relationships that we had with our three children.

Years have passed since I made the decision to face the pain and take my life back from the people who stole it from me. I live, really live each day now. Our three children have flourished living in the truth and without the oppression of the lies that we all used to live buried under.

Welcome to Emerging from Broken; the greatest and most rewarding adventure of my life. I look forward to meeting you on the journey from surviving to thriving.  

This article has been an emotional one for me to write. Tears sprang to my eyes several times; my determination to face the pain, acknowledge the damage, heal and take my life back surprised even me. I did not know that I had this amount of strength and persistence when I started this journey but today that is how I know that you can do it too.

As always, please share your thoughts.

There is freedom on the other side of broken,

Darlene Ouimet

Depression began at a very young age for me. I think that fact added to the belief that I was somehow defective and different from other people. 

Depression always began with a sinking feeling. Sometimes I fought it. When I fought depression it felt like I was fighting in a mud bog and I was too tired to battle my way out. It felt like my legs were tangled up in vines or underwater foliage and I couldn’t get free of them. They were pulling me under. I could see and feel hands grabbing at me, trying to drag me down.  “Something” or “someone” was pulling me under.

Sometimes I felt like someone was sitting on my chest and holding me down. Holding me back; Keeping me under; I felt like I was fighting just to be seen. I felt like I was drowning in a deep black swamp and people were standing around but they didn’t notice me. People, only a few feet away and they could not see how close to death that I was. And they didn’t CARE. They were laughing and talking as though they were at a cocktail party and no one cared that I was thrashing around, fighting for my life and sinking in that swamp.

Many times I thought it would be so much easier just to give in and let the dark water close over me. But it never took me completely. No matter how tired I got, I lived a partial death but complete escape from the dark was not attainable.

That was before……..

That was before I found out how I ended up in that swamp

That was before I found out who “they” were ~ the ones who stood around laughing and talking while I was drowning, sinking, and dying only mere feet away.

That was before I fought for my life and fought to find the truth about how I could escape that oppression and darkness that I lived in for so long.

Depression almost killed me but I didn’t know that depression itself was “a result” of something. There was a root to depression ~ there was a reason that depression was so prevalent in my life.

I wanted “someone” to save me and I felt guilty and unjustified in wanting that. I also felt like I was not worth saving. There were roots to those conflicting thoughts too;

1.  I had been taught growing up that I was nothing without “them” that I needed “them” (people, relatives, adults, teachers) in order to survive. I had been taught to depend on these people for my value and to try harder to obtain that value. Controlling manipulative people always ask for “more”. They want more effort, more proof of submission, more time, more love, more compliance. The more that I tried, the more THEY felt validated. And today I realize that fact is about them; they used me to validate themselves. They made me jump through hoops to prove their own value. They asked for more and more because their own self esteem was so low.  AND I believed that if I could make them feel good about themselves, then I would feel good about myself.  If I could prove their worth ~ then I would HAVE worth.  That is what they taught me. I had no choice but to believe it. There was no other option presented to me.

“I felt hands grabbing at me trying to drag me under” ~ or perhaps  those hands were trying to grab at me so they could use me to get themselves OUT from under the water in their own murky swamp. My purpose and value to them was in making them feel better about themselves.. Restoring their order and their value was what they wanted from me, and it was what I wanted to do (because I truly believed that was the only way that I could be valid) ~ but it was never enough.

1. I had also been taught that I was unworthy of their approval. Over and over again I failed to restore their value. It was never enough and I didn’t know that restoring the value of another human being is not possible. It was the definition of love that I had learned and I believed it. I kept trying. The truth is that in their view I was not “good enough” or “deserving enough” for “them” to bother saving me. My only value (as they saw it) was in saving them.

Those two conflicting beliefs ~ that I needed “them” the very people who defined me as unworthy in the first place, to validate me and the fact that I (believed) I was indeed not worthy to be validated, warred in the depth of my soul. 

As my life progressed I found myself sinking more and more. Descending deeper and deeper; fighting less and less. Murky visions of what it might be like to stop fighting for life (and validation) became more frequent. Sometimes seeing blurry sunlight through the frozen ice above me; perhaps there was hope but I had no idea how to access it. The older I got the more tired I got. The more I fought (the truth) the more I sunk. I was exhausted.

Until; I faced the roots of depression. I finally looked at the truth about the past. Not just the events, but what those events communicated to me about me.  What happened to me? What had gone wrong? What was at the root of depression and the way that I felt about myself and my life?

I finally realized how I had been defined by the actions and communications of others and that these trauma events and the hopelessness surrounding them had resulted in the constant depressions.   

I realized that validation could come from me.

I started to change the visual. The underwater foliage broke free. I started to see myself kick those hands away. I raised my fist to all those that restrained me. I started to fight back. I got angry at the way that I had been held back, held down and oppressed.  I saw the roots of the depression and they were not my lack but someone else’s false definition of my worth.  I started to see myself strive for the sunlight. I wanted to be IN that sunlight. I fought to be there. I broke through the ice. I emerged from the depths. I shivered and shook with cold and fear and self doubt but I pressed on. I fought for my life. I fought for my birthright; my original value. I fought for me.

And I won.

Please share your thoughts. Remember that your information will not be shared with anyone and you may use any name you wish. EFB has a Facebook page, however your comments here are not connected to facebook nor are they published there.

Darlene Ouimet

 Other Related Posts ~ The black hole of Neglect by Pam Witzemann 

Why I didn’t Know how I Felt about anything ~Darlene Ouimet

If Happiness is a decision WHY couldn’t I make it ~ Darlene Ouimet

Awareness

“We are so used to such phrases that most people don’t even notice them. But there are some who do notice them; people who have decided to analyze the words of adults from the perspective of the child are arriving at new knowledge and no longer afraid of letting in the light. They see that the destruction of a human life is not to be described as “ambivalent parental love” but must be recognized for what it is: a crime”. Alice Miller ~ Banished Knowledge ~ facing childhood injuries

Have you ever thought about the statement “leave well enough alone”? What the heck is “well enough”? What does that even mean and who gets to decide what “well enough” is.  It is actually more of a command or a directive then a statement. Someone else is dictating what I should do or shouldn’t do and even telling me how I should or shouldn’t FEEL. (Because we never want to revisit anything that we don’t have strong feelings about)

I can tell you that in the old system, it was certainly not me who got to decide what “well enough” was! It is certainly not the person who is suffering from the damage of what happened that got to decide what needed to be left alone or not.  And I can assure you that the person who was invalidated and mistreated is not WELL ENOUGH to leave it alone. We were NOT “well enough”, and the situation is NOT “well enough”.  Good grief. I am getting confused just writing about it!

This statement makes me angry.  When we want to talk about the past, about injustice, psychological or emotional abuse, sexual abuse, or even just having been hushed or ignored, so often we are told to leave it alone or let it go, but when we are told that it is “well enough” as it is, it is like being slapped. It is a re-abuse. It is a reminder that we are not important or worthy enough to bring it up again but if it is still not resolved and not addressed then it festers and grows deep down inside of us. We are talking about abuse here. We are not talking about bringing up that Johnny stole my crayon in kindergarten and never said he was sorry.  We are talking about way bigger issues than that.

This statement is invalidating. How can someone else say that it is “well enough” and that we should “leave well enough alone”? How can someone else decide that for us? Invalidation is at the root of all mental health struggles. I had to validate myself by realizing and stating the truth.

When people say “leave well enough alone” they are declaring that they believe that the way the situation sits is “good enough” and that it should just be forgotten; that the pot should not be stirred but the people who told me to “leave it alone” were not the ones that had suffered a trauma or had been mistreated and discounted.  SO they are not qualified to decide what is “well enough” and what it isn’t.

Deciding that no one else gets to decide when a situation is “well enough” is part of the process of taking our lives back.

Very often the person advising “leave well enough alone” is protecting an abuser somewhere anyway. And what the heck is THAT about? Why does the offender get or deserve protection?  Why is it so hard for everyone to FACE the truth?

Very often the things that we are being told to “leave well enough alone” are about, illegal offences such as in the case of domestic violence or sexual abuse. And I am not discounting spiritual or psychological abuse here, we have a right to validate all of it!

People always have a motive for telling you to leave well enough alone. Perhaps they are covering their own guilt? In any event, they don’t want the truth exposed. They want the secret kept in the dark, where they don’t have to face it, and they don’t have to live in the painful truth about the circumstances that need to be exposed to the light.

But does that qualify them to tell you cease talking about it; that it is well enough to be left alone?  Do they have the right to ask the survivor or victim to “leave well enough alone”?

I don’t think so. My emotional healing came from finally realizing MY rights.

Please share your thoughts and feelings.

Exposing Truth; one snapshot at a time;

Darlene Ouimet

Related Posts: “Forget about it!” by Patty Hite on Overcoming Sexual Abuse

“The Problem with statements like “get over it” ~ D. Ouimet EFB

“The Confusion created around Forgiveness Issues” ~D. Ouimet EFB

“Emotionally Abusive Statements designed to control ~ D. Ouimet EFB

~Alice Miller

The Stigma of Depression

I believe that depression comes from somewhere and that it starts somewhere. I don’t believe that I was born with it, or that I was born with something missing in me that would later determine that I would struggle with depression.  I don’t believe that my mother, who struggled with multiple depressions, passed her condition down to me.  I believe that my mother had her own post traumatic stress and abuse that caused her struggles and break downs, and that because she didn’t have the tools that she needed to raise an emotionally healthy child, I too was placed at risk. I was not protected from the things that caused my trauma; both me and the trauma were neglected. My self esteem and personal value and individuality was never established.  

I would even go so far as to say that my depressions were a coping method. They were a way for me to shut down and to get through the overwhelming circumstances in my life. They were a way that enabled me to survive. 

That is what I have come to understand now ~ that is my NEW belief system, and coming to understand this and all my other false belief systems greatly assisted me in overcoming my constant depressions and in living beyond depression. That is what I used to believe about depression, so now what about the old belief system that I broke out of?

The Stigma of Depression

There is a huge stigma in our society about mental health struggles.  There is a universal judgment about depression and about the people that suffer with depression. We pick it up from movies and television, books, our family’s belief systems and jokes about people who see therapists. Even the people that suffer with depression have belief systems about depression that have formed from society and from little things we picked up from others along the way and the false beliefs that were passed down to us from others. I had a belief system that had developed about depression, but I didn’t even realize that I had it; I certainly didn’t realize I had the wrong definition!  

Where did I get my definition of Depression?

My mother struggled with multiple depressions as I was growing up.  As I grew up, I thought she was “fragile” and unable to cope. Sometimes I resented that she had these dark times of struggle because she didn’t have time for me and I ended up on some level feeling as though her depressions wrecked my life. I was afraid of depression. I was afraid of having “it”.  My first serious depression began when I was ten years old.

I also picked up that my mother’s “condition” was not something that we should talk about. I learned that it was best to pretend that nothing was wrong. This was all part of how I learned the “stigma” that goes along with depression.  

One of the worst things that also contributed to my overall belief system is that I learned that somehow I could help her if I acted a certain way or didn’t get in her way and didn’t  upset her. She had to be treated with kid gloves, or there would be a price to pay. I learned by her actions and the consequences of my actions, that her depressions were somehow my responsibility and even my fault.

So, because of the beliefs that I had collected along the way, and how I saw my own mother being regarded as someone who suffered with depression as well as her often out of control actions, I had this idea that depression meant that ‘the depressed person’ could not handle life. Nobody wants to be seen that way.

How I applied the acquired beliefs to myself and to my own depressions

Subconsciously, I came to the conclusions that If I could not cope with life, (and this is a biggie) then I had to let other people handle things for me. I had to agree with their opinions of me, (because they could handle life) and I accepted that I could not possibly have a valuable opinion. I couldn’t be right, I couldn’t know my own thoughts and feelings; I believed that I was paranoid, that I was over reactive and always wrong. 

And isn’t that exactly what certain controlling people in my life would want me to think and feel? Because when I felt that way, when I believed all of that, I willingly comply to their wishes, accept their opinions and direction and I always believed and easily accepted that any difficulty that I have with others was MY fault. It was My defect. It was what was lacking in me and what was wrong with me.

When I was medically diagnosed with depression it even proved to ME that I was all those things, because of the beliefs that I had accepted about depression along the way. It was pretty easy for others to get away with treating me even worse than before.  I easily accepted blame and I had no trouble accepting that the burden of every relationship was mine, because I believed that I was the one that had the problem.

Can you see how the stigma of depression starts and how even I affected myself with it?

Can you see how those established beliefs are then used for the purpose of controlling someone else? People WITH depressions even use it against others with depression, because in our society we learned that the one with the most control over others “wins”. Depressions are used as PROOF that we are “Not Right” and that our opinions are not valid.

I had to realize this belief system, as far back as it went and change the very roots of my thinking.

Please share your thoughts.

Shining light in new places;

Darlene Ouimet

Great Article by Jonathan Rottenberg on Psychology Today about the Stigma of Mental Health Issues

Interesting Poll on Resistance to Admit ”mental illness”

“The best way to keep relationships happy, healthy, and supportive can be summed up in one word: appreciation. What you appreciate, appreciates. When we demonstrate our appreciation for the support we receive from others, it reinforces that behaviour and deepens our connection to them.”   Marci Shimoff

This is a beautiful quote. I tried to live my life by these types of quotes in the past, never realizing that they were extremely conflicting for me. Today, this quote works for me in the relationships that I have now but in the past a quote like this actually caused internal, subconscious, harm.

Without realizing it, I was trying to appreciate people who were treating me badly. I didn’t think that I deserved support; I don’t think I even knew what it was so I didn’t see that key part of the quote. Instead, I kept trying to see the positive in abusive people and overlook the negative. That was how I viewed quotes like this one. I thought it meant that I should just ignore the mean stuff. But trying to overlook someone’s ill treatment of me was the same as agreeing with them that I wasn’t really worth being treated properly.

Trying to appreciate a person who devalues you is conflicting;  it’s like putting a band-aid on top of a severed limb that requires surgery, stitches, recovery time and then rehabilitation. 

I am one of those people who fought against depression all my life.  I was bi-polar, likely from a very young age and depressions were connected to my dissociative identity disorder issues. I began seeking solutions in self help programs, seminars and self help books when I was eighteen years old.  I started in 12 step meetings when I was eighteen too.  And for reasons that I could never understand, no matter how much I tried to work those steps, they too were like a band-aid when I needed surgery.

In the past when I read a quote like this one by Marci Shimoff  I tried to focus on appreciating the people in my life that were devaluing me, defining me as not good enough, controlling me and squishing me into the ground.  I tried to concentrate on how wonderful they were and thought that if I was more appreciative ~ which in a victim mindset means more compliant and more subservient, that they would finally reciprocate and appreciate me.  This was all part of my victim mentality which whispered in the deepest part of my mind and belief system, that if I could just find the magic secret recipe for how to make them LOVE me, that they would stop hurting me and love me.

Today I understand and appreciate quotes like this one. I had to get the victim mentality (that I lived in and survived by) sorted out and set right first though.  I had to clean up the old foundation ~ which was rotting and full of gaping life sucking lies and build a new strong and sturdy foundation before quotes like these could serve me.  Trying to implement positive thinking quotes in the past added to my already low self esteem. Subconsciously I just jumped to guilt, shame, self blame and failure thoughts.

Having realized my own value and truly embraced it has enabled me to appreciate the people in my life today from a more truthful and equal viewpoint and THAT has deepened the connections. Appreciation is no longer a one way street. Now that I know my own value, it is easier to appreciate others for who they really are too.

Please share your thoughts about one sided appreciation or about how this article resonates with you.

Darlene Ouimet

Marci Shimoff ~ Is the Best Selling Author of “Happy for No Reason” and “Love for no Reason”

Also see ” Keys to Living in the Present ~the passwors is “the past”

Hope in the Darkness of Rejection

All abuse, weather it is emotional and psychological abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse or spiritual abuse, is abuse and that these articles that I write on Emerging from Broken apply to ALL kinds of abuse.  I intentionally make a connection between depression, dissociation, multiple personality, eating disorders, addictions and other mental health struggles and abuse. It is my experience that my difficulties and struggles were birthed in how I learned my value or rather my lack of it. The following article is not just about mother daughter dysfunctional relationship. It is about ALL dysfunctional relationship. How it starts in childhood, how it goes from there. How it ends up in coping methods that although necessary for survival, become self destructive.

The subject of not wanting the abuser to leave me and wondering why they did is SO complicated! For me, one of the things it has to do with is compliance and how much of my life that I spent trying harder for them. The deeper that I look at the roots of my belief system, the more that I can figure out where things got off the track.  First of all there are the tons and tons of mixed and conflicting messages that we get both from right sources and wrong sources. They all kind of go into the same pot and they mesh with each other. Remember the story of how when my mother declared that it was my fault that her boyfriend came in my room in the night to sexually assault me because I had a crush on him. Well because my self esteem was already so damaged that I believed her, I added that self blame to everything that ever happened to me before that event. Then there were a few things in my past where I was not such a perfect child, like the time I faked the nightmare for attention, and when a child is a mere child, it doesn’t take much for things to get really mixed up in the memory, the mind and then in the belief system. The grid that we try to process things through, gets damaged.

I had to look at the “foundational foundation” to start with.  That is the belief that we need and depend on whoever our caregivers are for our very lives, protection, security, the things that children need to grow into healthy adults. And when something happens that alters those basic needs, we have a problem.  We get this split belief about love somewhere along the way and we start to believe that love is something that it isn’t. My mother taught me my value, she taught me the version of LOVE that she believed, but it isn’t real love. So I think that what she is doing is love, and I used to say “I know she loves me, I know she is doing her best”.. but today I know differently.  She doesn’t love me at all. She uses me to make her feel better about herself. But it doesn’t work and it isn’t good enough and it hurts me every time.  Where is the love in that? Part of my recovery was realizing what love is and what it is not.  

When I told my mother that I was not willing to have a relationship on her terms, she finally asked me what “my terms” were. I told her that from now on she could no longer say that I had a crush on her boyfriend when I was just a kid and that was why he came in my room in the night. AND I told her that I was sick of having to prove to her husband that I liked him. I guess my terms were too high.

She was silent. She did not respond to any of the “terms” I stated. Then she told ME to think about our talk and get back to her and I said no mom, you can think about it and get back to me. I could write a whole other blog post about how everything was always up to me but that particular time I had given her MY terms, what the heck was I supposed to think about?  That was the last time that we spoke.

And the message that I got from her withdrawal was that I was not worth her trying for. If I was going to draw boundaries and demand equal value then forget it. She said NO. The message was that I was only good for kicking around. If she had to respect me, then she didn’t want to be bothered with me at all. And that message meant to me that I am NOT worth it. After all the years of loyalty and compliance. After keeping my mouth shut about her boyfriends ~  I wasn’t worth her effort. I had never stood up to her all those years. I didn’t dump HER. I put up with all of the degrading in front of the whole world. I stood silent when she told men they could sleep with me because I was on the pill even though I was only a teenager! I didn’t even tell the family therapist (we had to go because my brother got arrested) what was really going on in our home or how she treated me. I let her take me to bars as a man magnet when I was 17 and I never said a word; I followed HER one sided definition of love and loyalty and I kept thinking that one day it would pay off ~ AND she dumped ME! It was incomprehensible! This was just the most unbelievable “thing” for me to try and comprehend. I was such a GOOD VICTIM and it was all for NOTHING? Because when it came right down to it, I was not worth her effort.

And it feels like rejection, because IT IS REJECTION.

As the months went by I felt more and more shock and disbelief as these truths sunk in. But something else was happening. I realized that I didn’t miss the abuse. I didn’t miss having to constantly do damage control and make sure SHE was okay. I didn’t miss having the joy sucked out of every single exciting moment in my life.  I didn’t miss the put downs, the insults, the sexual innuendos or the family problems that she caused with her gossip and trouble making. I didn’t miss the anxiety.

And I started to grow. I started to come out of the fog in a much bigger way; I had so much more clarity about the truth and realized how many lies about myself that I had accepted.

This whole story does not just apply to parents; I had a couple of boyfriends who fit this same pattern. Oh and a few friends too. And employers…………. well you get the picture.

Please share your journey, struggles or victories or whatever you need to share for your recovery.

Exposing Truth one snapshot (or two) at a time

Darlene Ouimet

Founder of Emerging from Broken

Related Posts: The little girl who Cried Wolf  ~ Belief system development

Sexual Abuse ~ Devlaued, Discounted, Unprotected

More on Mother Daughter Dysfunctional Relationship (and the comments)

Mommy Please….

“If your progress in recovery is thwarted each time you see your family, if you revert to being a subservient or a fearful child, then you may need to stop seeing them for a while. Most importantly, you may need time to develop your own separate “self”, since it may be impossible for you to maintain a sense of individuality when you are around them.” The Right to Innocence – Beverly Engel

Lisa, one of my readers, made the following comment on the post “welcoming a new year of emotional healing” in regards to drawing boundaries with her mother; “What if there is no me without her?” this post is dedicated to that comment and it applies to all relationship where equal value is out of balance.

I was a really good victim to a lot of people. That means that I conformed and complied to many. I did what they wanted. I was who they wanted me to be. It makes me angry to think of how compliant that I was and that it was still never enough.

I lost myself and I got sick. As I got older, the overall dysfunction that was so familiar to me grew, and I got sicker. This was especially true in the dysfunctional mother daughter relationship with my own mother.

Looking back I realize that in most of my relationships,  the interest that many people had in me was pretty much only about what I could do for them and about how much they could make me into who they wanted me to be. Sometimes that is about power and control. Sometimes it is about ownership and servant hood. Whatever the motive is, it is not healthy and it is not about love. And when we continue to live in that kind of relational dysfunction, the more we lose ourselves.  In my case, the farther I got from my identity, the more depression and dissociation manifested. I lived only to live for others.

In the case of my mother, I think she wanted children because she was looking for a love source of her own. And so she created a love source. And she might have loved those babies to the best of her ability but as we grew older, something happened. She had expectations. She wanted approval and validation and she wanted it from the love source that she created. And when people get love mixed up with ownership, they believe they have a right to get what they need or want from those other people. But love and relationship doesn’t work that way and because she didn’t really know love herself, the whole plan failed.

The foundation of our relationship (overtime) became about my usefulness to her. When I was little my unconditional love and acceptance of HER was all she needed, but as I grew into an individual who had my own individual ideas, I think she felt threatened. And she did things that if I put up with them would prove to her that I still loved her. AND it seemed that she was very mad at me when I could not fill the void in her and make her feel good about herself. She put me down. She reminded me in strange ways that I was nothing. (and somehow I heard that I was nothing “without her”.) She did mean things that when accepted by me seemed to make her feel better because she equated them with love.

I got away from her, but it was never far enough. She sucked the joy out of every accomplishment that I ever had with her sometimes subtle, sometimes obvious put downs and questions designed to devalue me. She mentioned my weight. She put down my husband, my home, and my choices. She made inappropriate sexual comments about me in front of others. I was always on edge around her. And I never thought to confront her about doing it. She even commented that my breasts used to be so nice before I had children. WHY does someone feel the need to say something like that?

When I was small she taught me that I needed her, and I did. But she never taught me that I was capable of being an individual. She never wanted me to stop NEEDING her because it restored her value. I believed that I needed her to survive and even to exist.

And one day about a year after I began to take my life back by doing the foundational work that I write about all the time in this blog, I started to stand up to her, just a bit and just in tiny ways at first. But the more that I grew, the more I realized that my mother and I had a very dysfunctional mother daughter relationship. And eventually I stood up to her in bigger ways. And the tension between us was getting really bad. Then came the day when I said NO MORE. And this time I meant it. My boundary was not in my mouth anymore, it was in my heart now. She knew that I was serious, and she withdrew.

At first I was confused. I could not believe that she didn’t care enough to even try to discuss it. But I had lost my “usefulness to her” and what I didn’t realize is that part of my usefulness to her was in how she got to put me down. I felt so sorry for her too; for most of my life I tried to restore her value, but no one can do that for someone else. (I have written about this stuff under the mother and daughter relationship tabs.) The problem is that my purpose in her life wasn’t about love, value and equality. The way that she treated me wasn’t fair to me and it was when I finally put myself first, something we are told we must never do, that I found my healing.  

When some time had gone by, my mother called and she wanted to try to mend fences. The problem was that she wanted to start from that day and asked if we could “just put it all behind us” and I said no. That is how we had always done things in the past, with me backing down. With me saying that her treatment of me was okay with me, (what I thought was forgiveness) and with me laying there broken and bleeding on the ground once again doing what she wanted and being who she wanted me to be. Always about her, always taking care of her; never about me, never taking care of me. She asked me what my terms were and I said equal respect. That was the last time I talked to her.

As I said, this time my boundary was drawn in my heart. I finally knew that I was worth equal respect, and that I have real value, equal value and that she doesn’t own me.  I finally knew that her life is not my responsibility. She failed me as a mother, but I am not going to fail myself anymore.

I am not afraid anymore to live as me because I found out that the value that they gave me was a lie. I am far more valuable then they ever wanted me to find out about.  I found out that I do not need anyone else in order to exist. I am not defined by anyone else today. AND I am not an extension of my mother.

Please share your thoughts. One of the biggest search phrases used to find Emerging from Broken are the key words “dysfunctional mother daughter relationship”. This is a huge issue in our society. We are not alone in this.

Exposing Truth, One snapshot at a time

Darlene Ouimet

See Lisa’s comment #19  on Welcoming a new year of Emotional Healing

Related posts: Mother Daughter Relationship Nighmares

Mother daughter relationship ~ My poor Mom

The Journey Ahead

Last night I had a dream that seemed to carry on throughout the entire night.  I dreamed that for some reason I was in prison, except that it seemed more like some kind of hospital or institution. I was innocent however I felt that I had little chance of proving it. It kept going through my mind that since every criminal claims innocence, no one would believe me… maybe I should just stay in the prison.

Some of us were hanging out in the hallway and I noticed that one of the doors leading to the outside was open. It was night time. A guy told me that if I crouched down, we could crawl out of there without being seen by the surveillance cameras. So we did, and we were outside! I kept thinking that my escape was justified because I didn’t do the crime that I was being accused of, but I felt slightly guilty about leaving without permission. My heart was racing as I expected to hear the alarms being sounded but I heard nothing.  Next thing I knew we were stowing away on a cargo train. (just like in the movies) I text messaged someone using coded messages about being “out” and all the while was aware of the fear of getting caught by my communications being traced. It was cold and I was tired and the train ride was really long. My traveling companion disappeared.

Eventually I was off the train and in a motel room with a laptop and a television.  No one was looking for me and there was nothing on the news about my escape. No one seemed to care and as the dream went on, (and now it is a few days later) I started to feel safer about having escaped but at the same time I felt kind of mystified that no one was looking for me and the rest of the dream was about wondering why the heck no one cared, even though I was innocent and even though I had not done the crime I was imprisoned for and I was getting weary, wondering when I would finally make it “home”. *

When I first woke up this morning, I thought this dream was pretty funny, but as I was telling my husband about it, I realized that it was actually really significant and it painted a picture of my past and of my journey to emotional healing.

Deep down I thought that I had been falsely accused but yet I was filled with guilt and shame, so I lived in the prison that they made for me. There was an open door, but I did not think that I had a right to use it, because no one would ever believe my innocence.  Even I questioned it. When I made my escape into the scary blackness of night, I was surprised it was successful. I had the feeling over and over again that it was so much easier than I thought it would be.

Throughout the dream, I kept waiting to be caught, and to be proven wrong and then put back into the prison. I was sure that they would track me down and put me back in “my place”. As the dream went on, I started wondering why no one came looking for me. And I felt sad that no one cared that I had escaped. I felt really abandoned and alone. It was so great to be free, but there was something really sad about it too. There was a kind of “now what” feeling as though escape was only part of the healing journey, and I have found that to be true to my recovery as well.

It has been very difficult for me to accept that my mother did not pursue a relationship with me when she realized that I was serious about not living in the extremely dysfunctional mother daughter relationship that we had for so many years.  I was so sure that she would want to journey to the other side of broken with me. I was so sure that finally, now that I understood what happened to me AND eventually I understood also what happened to her, that I would be “worth it.” I would be worth her effort. But it didn’t’ happen that way. One of my biggest fears was that if I stood up to her that she would walk away, proving that I was unlovable. But in reality her walking away did not prove that I was unlovable. What it proved was about HER. It was not about me.

This dream represented an analogy of the past. ~I was trapped in prison. ~The hospital or institutional feeling was about feeling all my life like I was CRAZY. ~The door being open represented that I had a choice. ~The night represented that it was scary, dark, with unknown and unforeseeable things ahead of me. ~The cell phone texting represented my fear of getting caught and being proven “wrong” again and having to go back to the crazy and the prison. ~The train ride was long = the journey to wholeness and recovery ~my travel companion disappeared was about having help getting started but ultimately I had to do the work on my own. ~Being bored in the hotel room with mixed feelings about NOT being pursued; my mother just walked away. ~The feeling of okay now what, was exactly how it was. Fairly early in recovery I had to find my “now what” and learn to live in this new life of clarity and freedom. 

~Possibly the most significant part of this dream was when I found myself weary and wondering when I would finally make it home. This was not about getting to a “building”, but rather about getting home to ME. This was about finding myself, or rather returning to myself and the peace, comfort and wholeness that I have found in doing that. ~Eventually getting back on my lap top unconcerned about who found out OR if I got “caught” represented that I did find myself, and now my work with others and my blog and how I talk openly about my past and about my journey to the other side of broken.

Please share your thoughts about how this post resonated with you.

There is freedom on the other side of broken….

Darlene Ouimet

Related Posts ~ Welcoming a New Year of Emotional Healing

Mother daughter Relationship Nightmares

Parent Child Relationships

another year bites the dust

Today is a new day and we are close to beginning a whole New Year! In the past I liked New Years because it always seemed like a new chance for a new beginning, but the past couple of “New Years” my thoughts are different; I thought that 2009 was the best year ever, and now I think 2010 was the best year ever so this year I am celebrating that I had a GREAT YEAR, and celebrating that I know 2011 is going to be the best year ever too. =) I am not thrilled to say good bye to 2010 but yet I’m super excited to welcome 2011.

Emerging from Broken was born out of my life long quest for recovery from depression, abuse,  (sexual abuse, physical abuse, psychological abuse, spiritual abuse) and from mental health struggles and from the resulting dissociative identity disorder and other coping methods that I had been using and trying to overcome my entire life.  I had been told that depression was not curable, only treatable. For some reason, I didn’t believe it. Both my mother and grandmother had suffered chronic depressions and my mother had prepared me for a lifetime of that struggle too, but I kept seeking a solution.  I remember this little flame of hope ~ this tiny voice within me that said “NO” I don’t believe that. I am SURE there is a cure ~ a permanent solution, a way to live in fullness in the way that I was sure we are meant to live ~ like a birthright. I almost gave up before I found it but I am happy to say that I persisted just long enough. (the key was in finding the truth)

To be more accurate, Emerging from Broken was born out of my victory over all those things. When I finally knew that I was free, that I had found a new way to deal with depressions, addictions and coping methods, I wanted to share the message of hope with you all.  I wanted to tell the world that healing and recovery is possible, freedom from depression in all its many forms, is possible, that living in fullness and purpose is really possible because I live there now. (the key was in finding the truth)

Recovery from abuse of any kind is a journey of many levels, twists and turns. There are hills, valleys, scary caves, dark forests, bright clearings, majestic mountains and dark creepy forests. There are rivers to be forged, and oceans to be crossed and there are peaceful ponds to rest by on lovely sunny days, after stormy nights filled with thunder and lightning. 

Today I like it all. I see the beauty in the journey. I see the progression to wholeness takes all of this and sometimes even more.  It takes willingness and courage. It takes determination and decision. It takes resolution, strength and stick-to-itiveness. It takes hope and belief.

I didn’t think I had any of those things! I didn’t think I had courage OR strength; I didn’t even think I had WORTH ~ but I did. I had all of them ~ some were weak and buried deep but they budded, blossomed and grew and they continue to grow and flourish as I keep going forward..  Deep down I had all these qualities and you have them too.  

So it is with excited anticipation that I say good bye to 2010 tonight and welcome 2011. I do things differently today; I live differently. I live in the truth. I like myself and I believe in myself. I am on the journey with myself and no longer dissociated and I am enjoying getting to know the real me. This is my hope for you too.

As I reflect back on the past year, and anticipate this New Year, I am grateful. I didn’t have community in the most difficult part of my journey and wished I had had that so I have created it here in Emerging from Broken for all of us; it helps me stay the path also. I am grateful for each one of the readers, guest post bloggers, commenters and contributors because my life is enriched by each of you. You give me a reason to share. You help me fulfill my purpose. You inspire me and encourage me. I thank you.

Happy New Year.

Wishing you a year filled with Truth ~ then Love will follow

Darlene Ouimet

Related Posts ~ “Before I faced the pain, I had to face the lies”

                            ~ Getting to the Turth ~ an audio by C.Enevoldsen and myself

                            ~ I held the key to my freedom ~ by Susan Kingsley Smith