Love

Dearest Pieces, I have been thinking about you (us) ever since you left, and, thanks to the talks we had, I feel an imporant change in me. To tell the truth, I am not sure exactly what that means, but it does mean that I hope we can talk more, so that I can learn more and undertand more about you and about us. You know how much I love you and care about you, and I am beginning to realize that, in some ways, that is exactly part of my problem. How to love and to care without hurting. Please teach me!
Pop (recovering from a nasty cold!)

Abused Pieces - part 2

continued:

“Why is your hair always such a mess?”

To that.………….. TEENAGE FREAKED THE FUCK ON OUT!
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! It felt so oddly wonderfully ALL ABOUT HIM!
It felt so wonderfully disgusting! And so ALL ABOUT HIM.
It was just horrible, horrible, horrible!!!

He couldn’t imagine why, what was so bad about the question.

Perhaps for the very first time in my life, this sort of question from him, felt really to be ALL ABOUT HIM.

HE was pointing his finger at me. HE was letting me know YOUR NOT GOOD ENOUGH. He was implying all his normal horrible things about me towards me. But this time, you know.… I almost laughed.
At the same time I was hurt and so disgusted. Disgusted that I’d been through this countless times with him, and here he was, doing it again.

It was now ridiculous really. It really needed to stop. I was feeling new feelings, and not used to feeling such feelings. With the old ones mixed in, TEENAGER showed herself to me and to HIM.
Yelling at the top of her lungs, she gathered up her things and started heading for the door. He was pleading for me to stay and talk to him. Getting up from his chair, asking me, begging. Oh my god she wanted to storm. To get the fuck out of there! How the fuck dare he say such a thing, ask such a stupid question. Why didn’t he already know the answer! WHY!?

When I told my Shrink, even he was shocked. I figure if he was shocked, then the feelings I was feeling for the first time in my life, were appropriate. Shrink found the question to be ALL ABOUT HIM, then my feelings were right and just. I got real confirmation, that all along the feelings I’ve been feeling were RIGHT THE FUCK ON BABY!
And that indeed, this was all about him and how he looked to others, to hell with whatever was going on or not going on with me.

I don’t really remember what I said to him. I couldn’t find any words, and again I had too many words. In the end I told him that it was obvious to me that he found me embarrassing. And that all he had asked that day showed that clearly to me. And that he’d been asking the same insulting questions for years now, all saying the very same thing. HE WAS FLOORED. He has had no idea what his words do, have done, are doing. I was beside my self with utter furry.
I AM NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU! I HEAR YOU. I HAVE ALWAYS HEARD YOU LOUD AND FUCKING CLEARLY, DAD!!

He was Floored.
No matter what came out of his mouth that afternoon, he got honesty out of me. When I am around my family, I barely open my mouth. I have been in MY PLACE for years now. So to do what I did that afternoon, was shocking. And for me to do what I did, showed to me, how really quiet I have really been all this time.
And THAT fact really hurt me.

I felt bigger than the White House. HURT is what my Body is made up of now.

He really didn’t know what to do or say after all was said and done. He’d gotten a lot out of me, only because I was ready to give it and he was ready to HEAR it. I will never be sure what he was looking for, but I know what he got.

There were moments when he found me outside, on the phone with Biker. And all that could be done was to stand there. Off the phone with Biker and into my Father’s arms, for long periods of utter silence. He knew. I know he knew now, I’d been paying a hefty price for his inability to take me in, as I am, as I have always been.

I don’t know if there was an impact on his part to find me talking to Biker after yet another big blow up. Running from one man to another. Finding true comfort, true understanding, and new unconditional everything in that other man. He has never really seen me as a woman, or a woman who could possibly want her own man, and possibly find some love and comfort there as well?
It’s just always been about him, and how I show off him, to others. It’s probably even more profound than that. But that is what it has felt like to me.

There were other questions, but Body is informing me strongly, that I must move on and forward from this space.

This particular work here is done, and my particular work has also.…. just begun.

Pieces of Parts

Abused Pieces

I need to call it what Body is feeling, finally.

Words can abuse.
There are no “signs.” there just aren’t any pointers: no bruises to be seen.
How could I say then, that I am being or have been abused?
Cause right now, and many thousands of times in my past, I feel very beaten up deep inside me. My soul, my little girl, feels beaten up and put down and tossed all the way the fuck around. Rag Dolly.

I’m sure now, that much of it has been coming at me in the form of two things.
One: It is really ALL ABOUT THEM!
How much of an embarrassment I’ve been to each of them, but mostly my Father, with my Mother following suit.

Two: It has been about how TO FIX ME, YESTERDAY!

I was born “broken.” I have remained broken. And much of what is or has been said to me, has been in the house of “I only said those things cause I thought they would help you - to fix you.”

Therefore, how could I look and say anything, or even feel any of it, as being Abusive?

I don’t know. I don’t understand how someone would think that “picking on me” about many things I can not change, could be called “trying to help me.” And then THEY wondered why I would always get beaten up at school. Any school in these United States.

I had a bully out there, cause I had bullies at home! DUH!!!
I had bullies for “boyfriends” cause my Dad is a bully. DUH!!
I had bullies for “girlfriends” cause my Mom is a bully. DUH!!

I Fought like a Mother-Fucker while living at home! I beat up my Mother. Got much horrible pleasure out of it. I hated her! All those fucking WAVES. All those fucking GAMES. All those YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGHs. Nothing ever seemed stable. Where was some plain old nurturing, the kind where it’s given out without expectation of something being given back. I was MAD AS HELL and had not one word to know how to express such feelings. She still plays such games, it’s unreal!

THEY sent me to a Shrink at less than three years of age. I have been going to one where ever I’ve lived all my life. Thank God NOW. But there is some serious resentment that no one else seemed to ever be going!
And some how, THEY seemed to think, that if I went, I could get help and then come home and what? Fix them?

How?
How does a little thing, get help, and then come home to the same madness? How? How does she “work” on the junk being hurled at her faster than spit, having nothing to do with her, cause it’s being played out by STRONG ADULT EGO’s!?
How does she then return to school and deal with the bullies?

And THEY think I stopped talking in school when I was in little kid school, cause of something that happened there! PLEASE!
They were a part of that! I’m sure now, it was about something having been done at school that I got NOT GOOD ENOUGH shit for at home.

HOME!! HOME!!! HOME!!!

What ever the case maybe, no one was going out to get some real help for themselves. It was really left up to me, in the long run. It still is.

So where did I go? Within. Quiet in little kiddie school, quiet still, until now. Safe and quiet, and totally lonely as all hell! Angry and fighting with fists and nasty mouth. But still keeping it all in, under safe blue spaces.

My Father took it upon himself to offer me words of “HELP” once again, just now. I struggled not to be of old. To stay present in the room, and not RUN LIKE HELL, in Body movement, and in Spirit. I needed to see both parts of me, in action. I needed to see and feel that I have done my own work, to help my small and very hurt child deep within, the one I have been trying to protect all along. I let go and went into a place I know very well. Role playing. I am good at it. I often do it, when alone, in order to figure out what is mine and what is not.

I allowed all persons within me to have their say. I allowed CHILD to sit there in silence until even one word could come up and out. I allowed TEENAGE to scream and shout, to show me the frustrations in front of me. I allowed KNOWING to watch. And I allowed NOW to speak with the words she has learned and developed into. No more denying that they are all inside me, all have feelings, all need to speak and NEED to have their own say. If I am ever to know that I am worth something in this world, they all must have their own say! I must hear each one, feel each one, connect and bond with each one, and move them out of heart, up my throat, into my mouth and out of my lips, into the space where the page can get turned. Out there, where once I got knocked down.
I was TOTALLY AWARE of each one of them!

He was asking me a few hard and horrible questions. The kind of which he has asked thousands and thousands of times over. Covering everything about anything, no limits, no respect, anything and everything equal and ripe. Ones that are and have been deemed abusive by my Shrink of Now. And that finally felt most abusive, insulting, disgusting, not right, boundary-less to me. And really not about me at all, but about him.

“Why are you so Fat Pieces?”

My heart sank. I became the chair. I suddenly was in My Place.
Devastation. Hadn’t he heard anything I’d been saying? Horrible horrible horrible. I felt Numb coming over me. SAFE, keep me safe! Oh GOD keep me SAFE!! Body getting bloated, the new manifestation of my stress. Struggles to stay present surrounding me. Crazy coming back. Stay present, stay present, ALLOW, ALLOW, was my mantra. WAIT, Why the fuck do I want to do that, this present space is HORRIBLE!!!

AAAAAA and there it is! The answer to Numb, a part of Crazy, all in Safe space.
Cause present is just horrible!!!

I did my best to “answer” him. But it all sounded like I was defending myself which I wouldn’t and will NOT do. Why didn’t HE know why I was overweight. Hadn’t he been paying attention to any fucking thing I’d tried to say or that he'd heard about throught Mom, up to this point! NO!!!!!

Child just sat there devastated. SHE just sat there, in silence.…..

For a LONG while.….

Listening to the nothingness, to the horror of being asked. Such a question telling me everything, the most important being, that he just doesn’t, hasn’t ever, SEEN ME. And that what he does SEE, he doesn’t like. So the question is really a cover up for, you are NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE MY DAUGHTER.

Couldn’t he answer that question for himself? How many ways must a person be told, something is wrong, some one they love is not happy, is struggling, has real Body imbalances, Body life Changes, HAS MEDICAL CONDITIONS!!!

I just don’t remember. It was too horrible. It was uncomfortable. It was just horrifying. It was so sad. We sat in silence, for what seemed like forever! Him begging me to talk to him, to try to talk to him. I was scared. Scared that if I opened my mouth I’d get more of the same. My present moment NOW, I knew was no different than my present moment way back when. Just scared, scared, scared. And so totally hurt, hurt, hurt. My present was just horrible.

His begging to talk encouraged me to do so. My needing to speak out, encouraged me to do so. I don’t know how I said any of what I did say, I know that I spoke, I know that most of what I said FLOORED HIM, and kept FLOORING HIM.

I don’t know how I sounded. If it came out in full sentences, cracked up lines, just a word here and there, I have no idea, I just know I spoke.
Some where my TEENAGER screamed out!
Some where NOW told him that I had been on a Jenny Craig for almost one year and had been maintaining my weight the entire time. FLOORED FUCKER in front of me! I KNOW ALL he sees is FAT ON FAT, the growing of FAT. He judges everyone by the way they look. DON’T BE FAT around my DAD. Cause then you have to prove to him that you matter and that you have a brain!

He stares at me while I eat. Has even when I was THIN.
And then when I haven’t eaten, or when he feels “sorry for me” he hands me a bar of chocolate.
But at the dinner table, in a fancy restaurant, he stares.… eyes screaming at me DON’T YOU DARE EAT ANOTHER BITE!

I have to fight hard not to look at him at all. I KNOW he is staring but try to eat anyways. It has mattered not what shape I have been in, nor at what age, even at my best of Body Construction, he stared. It’s HORRIBLE!!

Finding out that I am aware of my weight, and that I even already chose to do something about the part of it I have control over, FLOORED HIM!

GOOD GOD THE MAN WAS WRONG ??!

Most of what did come out of his mouth, was the man I know Mr. FIX-IT.
I really LOATH HIS Mr. FIX-IT. I LOATH him and I am truly scared of him. The things he says are mean, they imply that I know nothing. That I have not paid attention to any aspect of my own life. It implies all sorts of things, mainly that I am too stupid to have ever had a decent thought or idea in my life. The implications are vast, and devastating. And have left me numb and crazy for months on end. Sometimes taking up to a full year to recuperate, only to crash down after the next time of visiting.

I have worked VERY hard to heal my own self from this craziness I found much safety in.

I just don’t remember what came after what came or before something else. Other things were said, but as PROUD as I am for having stayed and not run, for having tried to speak out and up, for having done my VERY BEST.… I just can’t go there right now. My Mind is overwhelmed. This is the simplest recollection of it all, for now, my MIND and SOUL are telling me to write this part out, and MOVE ON.

At some other point in time of that same late afternoon....
Since the first response “was so successful”.…… geezzzzz.….
then came.…

“Why is your hair always such a mess?”


Pieces of Parts

My Waves! Finally Seen!

All day long my Mother put herself down. All day long SHE put HIM, My Father, either up on the highest pedestal she could find, or that he was such a DORK that he can’t find his own way and it scares the hell out of her.

I found MY WAVES within this pattern!!!

Not sure if they are of one and not the other. Or if they are a combination of both. They must be, cause the game is played out, and the dance is performed, and The Waves pattern created. And if one stopped in the middle, the dance would end right then and there. So it is both, although hard to see, but I certainly felt it. And The Waves, they belong to them! I learned them and then took them into my own life. What the heck choice did I have!

They were my GODS. Didn’t they KNOW best? Weren’t they the greatest of teachers?

From the start doing the meditations of listening to my surroundings has been POWERFUL, bringing me immediately into my own present moment. Into my NOW. And into a Balance mode, much more constant, allowing the WAVES to show themselves, and their alien feeling.


Following HER own Self:

She, My Mother, would find her information. Ask herself all the right questions. Put all the information together and then put her right foot forward, and take her step. Then, something would hit her, and she would “question” herself almost as soon as she’d put her idea out there - to my Father.

Wave going down - many times SUPER fast:

Suddenly everything she had done was “wrong” and she was “stupid.” and an “idiot” and WORSE. She must have looked up the “wrong” information. She must have been on the “wrong” page. She must have not heard him “right.” On and on and on and on. Getting herself to some point where she should never have tried to figure things out on her own without every inch of his input while doing it. And then.…. he becomes the RIGHT ONE. The God like. The all knowing and her, the nothing, the “Bad Little Girl.”

Wave going up, while she is a piece of shit:

HE, my Father knows everything. She should have never ever tried to do things on her own, she says to him. He knows how to read maps, he knows where they are heading. She should just let him do it all, cause she is just no good at it. On and on, all at the same time as she is putting herself down, way freaking down. She makes herself sound so bad, so stupid that somewhere in the dance, my Father agrees. He begins his own “you are a piece of shit” towards her. She gets to cry and feel the pains of what she grew up with, all over again. And in the sick world of this dance, SHE’S WON! It’s a Grand part of her “Kick me Dance.”

Wave going back up, while she is still a piece of shit and he is GOD:

And suddenly there is another shift.
And a oddly, but mutual understanding, that she had actually done the work to find the information, and it had been right. And he had been wrong about accusing her of being stupid. And then their dance shuffles about. Going back and forth and forth and back, to where they are high and in love and playing lovie-dovie with one another and happy to be married still after 50 years.

It’s so phony. So unreal. So part of the dance. But it is certainly a part of The Waves, and is certainly also a Grand HIGH.

But in not too much longer a period of time, the wave is about to drop way down again.

And in the end. All these parts happen over and over and over again, thru out one day. Each day. In a given hours time even. It is their dance and how they communicate with and towards each other. All done in LOUD and demeaning screaming, I’ve called much of their patterns of communication, their “FIGHTING.” Which in my mind, is constant.

My surf:

When I am added to the mix, I am tossed about like a rag doll. Thrown to be on one persons side and then tossed to the other. Both of them making me be their “buddy” and therefore against the other. Which happens to be one of my GODParents, that I am now supposed to go against?! How? How do I stay safe doing that? How? I’m in limbo. In between the two people that I love the most, that support, feed, cloth and are supposed to direct me to having a functioning life of my very own.

I am tossed about and gliding on the tips of each of their dance waves. On an emotional roller coaster, that has no real ending. Making me feel wanted, but played with, guilty cause I can’t fix either of them for either of them. Safe and totally unsafe. Way up and way the heck down, everyone too Ego happy, down to hatred and pointing fingers, to almost lovemaking in front of me. All for no fucking reason other than to keep the Drama going. Keep the “relationship” together. Keeping the unresolved problems from each of their childhood patterns going, and therefore passing them on to me. And me to me. And me to my loved ones.

No boundaries. Smothered by their dance. No separation between their relationship and who I am. I am to be born their savior. Their number one child, broken and all over the place and no place, but in MY PLACE.

No wonder I run, hide, get safe, get quiet, get lost, to find the quiet in my mind, although it has been busy as hell, my own waves and crazy times, and Totally NOT GOOD ENOUGH patterns, my ways of being in my own life. Or not being.

I have no more time to analyze this pattern. I have worked on this project for over four years now. This is as far as I will go with it. I have done my work to see it. The waves are hers, and theirs. I want to see myself choose differently from now on. For starters, I want my NOW.

The Waves are NOT my pre-menopause. The Waves are NOT, something NOT there. The Waves are THERE. The Waves have BEEN THERE. The Waves are REAL. And The Waves were TAUGHT.

What The Waves ARE, is a Grand Part of “CRAZY.”
AND some Grand Part of “No Art.”

AND NOW, finally I HAVE CHOICE.

Practicing my NOW, takes me out of The Waves. I get to stay still. I get to stay balanced for long periods of time. I get to hear myself feel and choose and give myself credit for choices made, workable or not. And I get chances to make better choices from the last one tried. And maybe, just maybe a grand part of “Crazy,” can try to rest now.

The Waves are and have always been Totally Safe and Totally Unsafe at the same time.
But in the calm of NOW, I am once again, and for real this time around, getting images of Self & Parts of Art.

NOW the real possibility of calm seas within me, lays before me where it has never been.

A Brutal Ride is Done.

And MY SEEN CHOICE is made.

Pieces of Parts