Change of Heart?

I’ve always hated December.  As any SRA survivor will tell you, December brings some ‘interesting’ issues.  Why, then, am I wishing December of last year had never ended? I dearly missed going to see my family-of-choice, and I’m working toward getting up to see them soon.  Still, Christmas comforted me somehow, and lighting the menorah with some of my internal crew brought peace as well.  I spent Christmas day with my best friend and his family, and it was nice to feel like I belonged.

Grief issues hit hard in December, another thing that bothers alot of people round the holidays.  Maybe I feel like, since December is over and the new year has started, everything should be fine again.  But it isn’t fine, no matter how much I pretend otherwise.  Maybe I felt like I could let that show in December and that I need to appear perfect now.  Maybe that’s why December comforted me– I could feel, unapologetically.  I felt connected to the Universe as a whole.  I felt held.  Now I feel it’s time to put on the armour again and make sure none of the broken places show.  In the earliest hours of the morning, though, I write in my journal that it’s December once again.

No Relief

My heart goes out to the people in Haiti.

My heart also goes out to these people:

• 23,704 families with children under 18 below 100% poverty in 2008
• 17.3 million households with very low food security– more than doubled since 2000
• 700,000 to 1 million homeless

These stats are not from a poor nation.  They are from right here in the United States.

This post is not written out of hatred, in spite of what angry commenters will likely say.  It’s merely written out of confusion– why is this nation trying to save other nations when it hasn’t got the resources to save itself?  It seems the same as letting your children starve to save someone else’s child.

People should help one another.  We share one world, afterall.  However, it’s a well-known fact among people in the mental health field that you have to take care of yourself in order to be able to help others.  In terms of *all* foreign aid, not just that given to Haiti, the United States seems to have forgotten that principle.

Shocking Reality

Having trouble sticking to that New Year’s resolution to adopt a vegan lifestyle?  This site will definitely motivate you to keep working towards a cruelty-free life.

If you’re still a meat eater, the videos on the site might very well help you understand why so many of us have chosen to rid our diets of animal products.  Fair warning– the videos are graphic.  Sometimes, though, it takes a bit of a shock to get people to consider change.  And when the change involves saving innocent animals from torture, no amount of shock is too much.

http://www.meat.org

The animals of the world exist for their own reasons.  They were not made for humans any more than black people were made from white or women created for men.

–Alice Walker

How It All Began

My father has been on my mind quite alot lately.  He and I were so alike.  He shaped my mind, for better or worse, and it is his bloodline that brought me into the cult.  There are so many reasons I could hate him.  I loved him, though, and I pitied him.  His biggest mistake was the same as mine, actually– we were born to the wrong family.

My father did horrible things.  He was a top member of a powerful and purely evil cult.  He hurt so many people, including my mother, sister and me.  He did what was expected of him without question, exactly as a cult member is trained to do.  In his later yeas, he also took my best friend along for birthday celebrations with my mother and me.  He shared ice cream with us, told jokes that had everyone laughing hysterically, and became a better person.  He was changing, becoming a person is his own right, and breaking away (albeit to a small extent) from the cult.

His life was hard.  I don’t know a great deal about his childhood, but since he grew up in the cult as well, I can’t imagine it was great.  I know he got shuffled about between trainers and was taken from his parents at an early age.  We had only just started talking about these things when he died, but he told me he had never felt truly loved or wanted.  He thought of himself as a complete and utter failure, and he expressed regret at what had happened.

My father grew up in the cult, did the jobs that were expected of him, and took the role he was supposed to fill.  In turn, he offered his children to the cult, and I can imagine our lives started quite similarly to his.  For whatever reason, I was able to break that cycle and refuse my role in the cult.  It’s unfortunate for my siblings and me that my father couldn’t.  However, I understand why he did what he did.  That makes all the difference.

Good Night

Anyone else out there having quite a bit of trouble with night these days?  I have had *tremendous* issues with programming and cult-stated prophecy lately.  I make it through the days relatively well, but night is terrible.  It’s like as soon as the sun sets the prophecies take over my mind.  That statement alone lets me know programming has a definite part in this situation.

I’ll need to close this post soon, as I’m actually starting to trigger myself.  The point is, nights, as Mairead would say, suck eggs.  Time is a trigger.

Semi-human Alters

I rang in the new year with an ‘interesting’ flashback.  It’s unusual for me to talk about the abuse my sister and I faced from our mother.  She was abusive in a more conventional sense, for lack of better terms.  Something sparked a memory, though, and I started talking to my best friend about being beaten by my mother.  I *hate* talking about that.  The non-SRA stuff is different.  I’ll have to say, given a choice between SRA and the conventional, I’d take the conventional.  It’s a different sort.  For some reason, though, it’s harder for me to talk about.

Anyway, the conversation led to a very detailed, vivid flashback.  I remember the flashback starting, but from there things went away.  My best friend said it sounded like someone was explaining how to prepare for being beaten.  After pressing the issue a bit further (no idea why I did that), I got a clear picture of the alter who held the flashback.  It literally made  me jump in fear.  He or she does not look human.  It appeared to be missing the top layer of skin and had absolutely no hair except for a small bit right on the top of its head.  Its fingers were arched, and its back was crouched.  Two very large light blue eyes peered at me, and it spoke in a very raspy, fearful voice.  Then, I *saw* what it had been seeing.

I’m typically good at shaking off flashbacks and going on with my day.  This flashback, however, really lodged in my mind.  Maybe the alter gave it entirely to me.  Maybe it gave up its existence when it gave up the memory.  Nothing new was given to me– I did know, afterall, that my mother was abusive.  It was just one particular day and one particular experience.  Like the alter, though, it’s haunting.  I never know quite how to deal with alters who don’t appear to be human.

Five Hundred Years

My brother-of-choice once told me to think of the fact that the cult in which I grew up has been wrong for 500 years.  He asked how many groups I’ve heard of that, after 500 years of being wrong, all the sudden turn out to be right.  I’m holding on to those words today.  Hope is the best and most effective weapon against a group that creates people who know no better than to act out of hatred and pain.

Stay safe on this Solstice day.

Comfort to All

Just a reminder to everyone who reads this blog looking for information on this topic– The Compassionate Friends World Wide Candle Lighting is today, 13 December.  The designated time to light candles is 7:00 PM in each time zone.  My best friend and I are going to a formal ceremony, but there will be many private ceremonies made up of families and friends, or even one person lighting a candle alone in memory of a special child or children who have died.

At 7:00 PM in your time zone, please light a candle in memory of these children, even if you don’t have personal experience dealing with child loss.  For one hour in each time zone,  the candles glow, lighting up the globe one region at a time.  It’s a beautiful vigil for children who have died and the people they left behind.

The Compassionate Friends

Spam Comments

Bless the spammers who try.  I don’t get a great deal of spam comments on this blog (Thanks WordPress).  When I do get spam, though, it’s usually a chain of bizarre letters or numbers sent by someone with an email address that would make most email clients explode in confusion.

Some, however, are more ambitious.  Lately, the spam message I’ve been getting is something along the lines of ‘good post, I’m going to blog about this too!’  I got an even more ambitious one today– ‘I don’t have a bunch to say about this, but…’  I can’t remember the rest of it.  That’s hilarious, though.  A spammer left a lukewarm comment on my blog.

So to all of you spammers who merely send chains of letters and number, you’ve got competition.  At least leave me a lukewarm comment.  I love knowing how spammers feel about my writing. 

Change of Scenery

As you’ve no doubt noticed if you’re reading this from the site, there’s a new theme and it’s snowing. 

Last year, I changed my blog to the winter scene as well.  We’re headed full speed into the holiday season, and while it’s incredibly difficult for me and many others, it’s also a time when the Western world attempts to have a bit of fun.  The past couple of days have found me at the bottom of the track on the emotional rollercoaster.  One of my insiders laughed as we worked on the columns at the bottom of the page and told me to be happy d*mnitt.  Quite a lovely sentiment, and I’m honestly trying.

Happy holiday season, everyone!  May it be filled with peace, happiness, and love.  (And I’ll close this post now before I start sounding completely like Ringo Starr.  ‘Peace and love.  Peace and love.’)