+THAT MESS – WAS NEVER MINE

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Just wish to say, after a wonderful conversation with a very special woman who suffered such horrendous abuse growing up, that I was reminded yet again of how fragmented our own life story becomes from growing up in the midst of horrors, trauma, abuse and chaos.

How is it possible that we can tell our own story from our own conception forward in any kind of orderly, oriented, organized way when our stories are so overwhelming, painful, terrifying, grim, dark and ugly?

The negative parts of my own 18-year child abuse and trauma story – plain and simple – are NOT actually a part of my story AT ALL!  The ugly parts of my childhood did not belong to me.  Oh, finally at age 60, how freeing it is for me to finally be able to clearly understand this.

Yes I suffered.  I endured.  I survived 18 years in hell.  But, as I have mentioned before, as I have studied every memory I have of myself in my childhood what I can see NOW is ME in my own life story.  Me, a beautiful perfect child!!

All the ugliness and horror belonged to the sick, warped, sad, mean, etc. adults that designed, built and sustained the malevolent environment that I had no choice but to reside within.  But their ugliness was NOT mine!  It has NEVER been mine.

Oh how important it is to learn how to see the pure child inside the hell – to be able to strip away, chip away, peel away, pull away all the CRAP from the pure child-us so that nothing REALLY remains but our own beauty.

Get rid of the wreckage.  Unbury our self from the crumbling rubble.  Put the blame and the responsibility for all the bad that happened where it belongs – NOT IN MY YARD!!  Not in my life.  Not in my heart!!  The trauma was never mine – I just had to endure it!

Never mind the mess that is the part of what I used to think of as my child abuse story.  The bad parts of the story belong to my abuser and her enablers.  I am learning how to let the rest blow away in the wind as if it never existed at all as a part of ME — because it never did!

True, this process of sorting out and getting clear and staying clear is nearly a constant process for me.  So be it.  But that’s ‘just’ a consequence of being raised in hell – it is NOT who I am!

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