I never noticed, until today, how much Rebecca reminds me of myself when I was at the beginning of this journey. I remember staring into the depths of pain and thinking there was no way...no possible way I would make it to the other side. I think I even prepared to hobble through life as half a person. There was just no way to overcome the past and become whole...whatever that meant.
There was a fight today between two people in my family. I will spare you the gory details but I saw some very interesting things. Rebecca felt attacked and like she was being ganged up on by everyone she lived with and even by people on the Quinn side. It wasn't really what was happening but in her reality...she was deep in a battle for...everything. She reacted in great anger. She used words to hurt the one who had hurt her. Words I have never heard from her and I hope I never do again. I sat back and had to search where this anger could have been coming from...but I didn't have to look very far. What had Rebecca always seen and heard when my mother became angry? My mother knew exactly what to say or do to hurt her children. Every parent has this ability, this power. It is a very serious and enormous power not to be taken for granted. Love, I mean real honest-to-goodness love does not allow us to use this power to hurt. My husband and I have this power over each other. I know what to say that could crush him as a man and he knows what can rip me apart...but we never do or say these things. Our love for each other means that we would hurt if the other were hurting. That hurt would be deeper if one of us was the cause. Evan has my heart and I have his. We are safe with each other because we are in love. We disagree but never cross the boundary into abuse. We are the same with our children. It has never crossed my mind to call my children names or tell them things like, "You aren't a part of my family", etc. I hold their hearts and their souls in the palm of my hand...as their mother, I am in love with them. Their hearts are precious to me and their souls are my privilege to mold...it isn't possible for me to break these things so close and precious to me. Frustration is not the same as hate and neither is anger. Love serves as a protective barrier...and thank you God for that!! Anyway, my mother could never see past herself. I don't believe she ever had the experience of love for her children. I am sure she had a fondness for us at times but love is too selfless in parts and she could not offer that of herself. Rebecca mirrored all that she had ever experienced. She lashed out with words as sharp as swords to hurt the other person. That is the only way she knows to act when she becomes angry. How could she know otherwise? (Scary how our reactions to things will be memorized by our children...yikes!) As the day progressed more and more people got involved and Rebecca felt as if she were sinking into a thick pool of tar. What do we do as children when we think or know we are in trouble? We panic, we prepare for the worst possible outcome. We run in every direction. We try to hide. We go numb. We cry. We avoid confrontation at all costs...ANY PRICE IS WORTH NOT HAVING TO FACE IT!! Rebecca acted no differently. She cried, she wanted to run away, she even mentioned suicide, and she ran and hid from everyone in the house. She hasn't had a chance to learn unconditional love. Se doesn't understand how a family works. She has never even witness conflict resolution or a healthy argument...doesn't even know that those things exist. What she would have paid, literally, to make it all go away! I told her to stay where she was... I didn't know what else to say. She had found a safe hiding place and if it gave her a sense of safety, let it be. I used to run and hide in any closet whenever my mother might be looking for me. She might send another child to look for me but I would hide and devour those extra minutes before my body would be bruised. It made no logical sense to hide...where could she believe I had gone? I needed to feel like I had some control over my fate...however unrealistic it was. I told Rebecca that it would be alright. When this argument was sorted out she would feel closer to her family and may even be thankful for this day. She is not yet secure with her place in either family. Any shifts in her life and she reacts as if someone pushed a fire alarm..."I need to find a way out or I will die!" Reminds me of myself to a "T"! It pains me to see first hand how an abusive childhood literally strips away pieces of the truth. It leaves behind a broken down human trying to keep up with a world that does not understand them and therefore has no patience for their incompetence when it comes to living, laughing, and relating. How can you "speak the language" if you grew up in another country?
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