divorced from my family

Just like any living breathing  organism, our relationship has suffered the ill effects of neglect and deep wounds.  There is so much history that no one wants to really look at it, it is a disease process so entrenched and progressed that my family would rather resign to its death than to fight for eventual health.

It is so sad for me to look at this, it tears at my heart.  Most members have given up completely, trudging through their days looking desperately for someone to fill them or give them a moments joy.  This is how I have lived most of my life until I stepped out of the dance.  Until finally I am free of the cult.  That thinking doesn’t rule me anymore. It wants to though, it taunts me daily until I almost am admitted as a psychiatric patient.

But so far, I have won.  My soul that has persisted this long still glows in there somewhere, sometimes faint, sometimes singing and strong.  Today is better than yesterday.  Do I miss my family?  You bet.  I have missed them for years, crying distantly for them, wishing they cared enough to call during my 7 year illness.  The only calls come as updates to their daily affairs.  New baby’s here. Coming to the wedding?  Saw an old friend at the market and they said hi.  Someone I am supposed to have remembered from the old, dying town has died.  These are the things to which our relationship is based.  It is shallow, empty, superficial and hollow.  Its hollowness echoes deep and resounding within me, absolutely unnerving me.  Am I the only one who hears it?  I guess I am.  Sometimes I think that they hear, it flashed across their face as a sign of life and hope and then its gone.  I am family but not the kind of  daily reminder that they want around.  Too strong. Too intense. Too knowing.

I will leave them in their denial, it is a good place for them and a bad place for me.  I will stop going to the proverbial dried up well for water.  I will stop hoping for change. But these are my people, our blood is the same, they were my first memories, they are imprinted on my psyche so deep. They inhabit my dreams of the past but I will not let them inhabit my recovery and future.  How I wish one of them would join me, learn my language, ease my pain of being without a family, let me see what it is like to have a loved one choose life.  But I have resigned myself otherwise, found the beginnings of a sense of peace. Just like the woman who finally realizes that her wayward husband doesn’t look at her directly anymore, doesn’t smile when she enters the room, who is distracted when she speaks.  Just like that woman, I know when done is done.


About Rescuing Little L

Documenting the pieces of my journey...recovery from childhood sexual abuse and cruel ignorance...the effects of those incidious acts through adulthood... until the grace of recovery transcended the trauma and shame of my past, making it possible to return to Rescue Little L.... View all posts by Rescuing Little L

6 responses to “divorced from my family

  • lissyjane


    “Until finally I am free of the cult. That thinking doesn’t rule me anymore.” Man, that right there went through me and rocked me to my core! Intense memories pop up with that word as you may recall. I fully intend to revisit that part of my life and how it’s so impacted who I’ve become. One thing I took from that experience is the notion of being free. I love New Hampshire, and their motto is “Live Free or Die.” I decided after I was free of the cult that I would never, ever let anyone have that kind of power or sway over me again. We are free agents now. We can do whatever we want. Oh yes, we have the power of choice. Noone can ever take that from us! And there are consequences either way we go – another heavy word for me at present. More lessons to learn about that. So what I wanted to say is that I have a death grip on that. Sometimes I lose my grip a bit, and that sucks, because I know that’s a choice, too. Knowing that something is the way it is because of the choice I made to allow it. It’s not fun to admit that to yourself. You want to take a ritual shower after thinking that, because you can’t stand your own stench. But it’s a firey clarifier, too.

    We have blood family, and we have adopted family. I have hand picked my adopted family. You’re one of my soul sisters. I was just smiling a moment ago thinking – what were the odds of Little Lissy and LittleL crossing paths in an eternity of time? Don’t know why but I had this sudden vision of us as the double hockysticks. The two LL’s finding their way to healing. Learning to play, to stay awake, learning to breath, learning to be conscious. In the moment. Wild, huh? Made me smile even more. Much easier to share the load together. Can slice through the obstacles and bust them down much faster when we join forces.

    Because that’s what sisters do, right? Let’s give ’em H E double hockey sticks, LittleL! Let’s play! It’s time for us to play!

    Your are not without a family, gentle one. You have an adopted family that loves you just as you are. Your radiant, beautiful, soulful self…

    Cowabanga dude!
    …and peace out 🙂

    • Little L

      Gosh, you can get me grinning so fast its not even funny…girl, you are a hoot! Oh yeah, I’ll be your soul sister and yes, hand picked and kindred souls only this time around…your creative juices are just flowing and I always enjoy the heck out of your spin on life….hugs to you and Sheila…

  • fringewalk

    I read somewhere today that friends are gods way of makin up for family! 😉

    • Rescuing Little L

      isn’t this something that a lot of us go through? Martha Beck says that our family won’t lead us to our North Star…that felt like such a relief cause I’ve been trying too hard with them…Gotta let go…bless them, release them and send them to their highest good…p.s. waaay easier said than done!

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