Trying to tell your Mama that all this lovely moving of you around left you traumatized is hard. Denial of what is is what is so hard to confront when denial is all you’ve known since you got sent away from her. Doesn’t matter how long ago. The child within wants what the child within wants and needs.
Trying to tell her anything is hard? And I do want folks to see this because this is the life she’s still giving me. Denial. Refusal. Rejection. And she’s calling me crazy? I’m just her daughter who’s turned of being denied.
And trying to alert her to her own trauma triggers or buttons as she calls them is so hard on me because I must dig up line to explain hers and how they are in fact linked, when she’s so brainwashed she can’t see it at all for the trees and lies and whatever else is in the way?
Not to mention the whole family lack of response or care about it? We all got hit when I was removed. But my family acts like they are the experts? Which is crazy to me? Since they haven’t even read a book about it and run from any kind of confrontation of our collective denial?
Oh. And I’m supposed to be happy?
That’s priceless. That’s just so fun to come home and now have to school my own family about our collective trauma while they call me crazy? I just love it! Not. My Mamas response and non response is the proof in all this pudding. Does anyone listen to me? Do anything about it? Give any kind of shit about it? Not yet?
It’s a very touch classroom. And the students are very rebellious and unreachable at this point. Respect must be established. So I post as much as I can. But can they even put it together? They seem to like us all apart like this? They’ve gotten used to it. Used to being jacked up and me coming home has shown everyone what shaking ground Mama has put us all on and denial is all around.
Nice. Has nothing to do with the kind thing to do. The kind thing to do is confront this so it can be ironed out. Not leaving it all like this for pride sake? Telling each other it’s ok just wont do. Yet they keep doing that? Ignoring it? But? They’ve been doing this for years. So I do understand. Turing them around to see it is the thing. People struggle to realize when trauma has hit and to find what to do?
My Mama has gone years without help with her trauma. It’s like a speck in her eye that she’s gotten used too. I accept that adoptions had an affect. I’ve told people for years it’s had an affect so that people understand why I am the way I am. Like denial ever healed a thing?
And I plug away at what comes to me daily to say to help them even see. If this has trigger y’all? Then y’all got the triggers. Not me. I’m the one pointing out the triggers we all have here. Like counting guns. And why? Are there guns here? Where did the feeling of being unsafe come from? Mama is blocking what? What she does not want to deal with. Why? Well well well. Cuz no ones paying attention? Everyone out to lunch.
So I point out that and this and here and there. As if to say? Hello Mama. We got work to do here. It’s not that easy girl. We gonna have to work for it. To see no one do nothing in response. Fight. Or flight mode on overload.
Why? Would I even make a lick of sense to my own Mama now? 57 years!! You wanna know what I am pissed about? All this work! Yeah. Having to come home to now be the family clean up crew while they eat bonbons! And complain. I do need a raise Lord. This job stinks to high heaven and they like the smell! Ugh. I do have some work here to do. Breaking it down into prices they can chew is a chore. They were not forced into figure out mode. They have just felt an affect and have denied it for years because our Mama is the leader and she’s denied it for years. They are now used to the taste of denial. Doesn’t matter to them it’s poison to the collective family soul or not? It’s there binky (bar bar) Angela called it that, and they want to have it to suck on.
Surely? My Mama is prayed up enough to see that? It’s like coming home to an Italian family but now you speak French and they just don’t wanna learn French so we all can talk? Like. No. Speak Italian. We like it. Your language is dumb even though our Mama forced you to learn it. We don’t have to learn. We are the precious kept ones. We don’t have to do a thing you say. So juvenile a response.
That’s why I was upset and so shocked at Chelsie response. Juvenile. Not mature. Not responsible. Not how I taught her. More of a response pattern that’s inherent in our family line returning for one more big bullshit show, due to adoptions hitting us twice that I know of. Could be more times? she could stop it. It was bound to show up in someone. And she’s sensitive as hell. Very empathic. She’s gone spidy senses. And yes. That’s a thing. She’s got a gift that she maybe fighting with?
She’s not gonna get free until we all get free. So. This is all about Chelsie. And Mamas at the root of it all. Her healing is key to our healing As a family unit. and my family acts like it’s a walk in the park we are having for no other reason then that’s what Mama lead them to believe. Because she was lead to believe it. And beliefs? Are hard to change. It takes work and deviation. Believe me. I know.
Angela’s upset daily. She thinks it’s this that and the other thing. I on the other hand know it’s a hole in our family unit umbrella that’s caused by this rift between me and my family. which is me and Mama right now. They don’t own what’s what with us yet. They. Are above it all. Or so they seem to think.
Getting the family to accept that we all have experienced trauma? My sister has experienced it twice. Lizzie boo. Lost me. I mean if Mama was rocking her while I was growing? We were really close to each other at one time? Next to each other rocking with Mama. That’s huge? And then Mama help Kizzy relinquish? Giving her the same medicine she took but not tell her mind she took the same medicine? Lizzie boo would have to wait to take that later from me? wham. Wham. Wham! Bam! Take that!
She lost a sister she used to rock with. Then lost a son due to ignorance and bad advice. She would be where she is today? And maybe that would be good? She would still have her children. She might have a different job? She might still be married? She might have pick better or maybe had more staying power? Who knows? grief gets in. And grief has an affect on us all. Not just me who’s talking about it while they are not.
What grieves new today is watching my family deny what is. So much of what is is over the top of what else is. Lies on top of truths that need to be seen for what they are. Love beneath every action taken by this sister to dislodge the lies that cover love up. Touching all the spots that ache. Showing them I do see beyond denial. Adoption is a sick solution, it’s not a solution at all if I’ve got a problem now? Going home in peace. There is no peace at home people. Peace must be restored.
If we were where we were supposed to be I could fly up to Mamas anytime. Make coffee. Make a mess. Clean it up. Sleep in bed with her and watch movies. Drink wine. Watch the sunset and sunrise together? Read. Pray. Sing. Song. All day long. But can I do that without someone getting all jacked up? Not yet. I’ve stormed the gates? I first came in with love of Mama will remember that? What went wrong? Why did I back off? Why did she drop the ball I gave her? Why did she not see the ball I gave her? Why did she just go back to Business as usual, like I never came home?
I feel it’s a denial pattern that’s taken hold. Worn track over time become deeply intrenched into the mind space. Much like an elephant being tied to a stake so long they don’t realize the chain has been removed and yet they stay out? Or a horse that works giving horse back rides on the same route each day. just trodding sling as usual. Not dealing there’s way more paths that can be made to other places and that it’s safe to do so?
I’ve had to dig up yesterday’s lunch that I ate and digested and feed it to the starving family denying they are even hungry? watching their souls die while they don’t even have a clue they are dying from the inside out. That I am tucked into each of them by DNA. And that the piece of me in them is burrowing her way to the surface for air. That’s I am not going away. That I can’t go away. It’s not genetically possible. And that this way is the way to peace.
No. It’s not an easy job. But I am doing it anyway. One day. They will thank me for giving a shit about them when they were sick and dying and don’t even realize it, for a glitch in our system was set in motion in 1963 and it’s being fixed. but at some point. They will have to do some work too. It’s not all in me. I am just pointing out where we need to work. We all need to work. That’s what family means.