+WHAT MIGHT LOVE FEEL LIKE? A “RESILIENCY FACTOR” STORY FROM MY ABUSIVE CHILDHOOD

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Monday, April 6, 2015.  While I don’t understand my point exactly in writing this post it seems to be one that has moved past the perculation stage into WRITE ME NOW.  So here is a little more about my personal conflicts with the concept of “resiliency” as it may be achieving a generic standing within the “healing trauma” circles.

The adult human body is made up of about 37 trillion cells.  The United States Census Bureau estimates that the world population exceeded 7 billion on March 12, 2012.  To do research that tried to extrapolate meaningful information about ALL cells or ALL people based on a small sample of ONE would be ludicrous.

Nobody can determine each individual’s experiences with trauma in such a way that the data generated could be made useful to anyone, let alone everyone!  So naturally what I have lived through and what I know as a result of my studies about what happened to me and how I survived it will never fit into any clear “significant probability” statistic with meaning.  I can, however, share parts of my story to illustrate points important to me.

I am sharing a story included on this blog that I certainly am NOT going to read right now.  I may never return to read it again.  (This is often the case with my own childhood stories once written, which is why my ace professional researcher and writer daughter is my editor for our books.  She has not yet proofed the story at this link.)

*Age 8 – BLOODY NOSE

What I wish to say about the experience detailed in this story as it connects to my standpoint on “resiliency” is that had I NOT gone through this event I do not believe I would have come out of my childhood having ANY sense of what “feeling loved” felt like.

The story is of trauma, true, but for me having my family gathered around me as I was nearly bleeding to death was the ONLY clear time of my 18-year childhood that I felt I belonged to this family.  It was the ONLY time that the feeling I lived with all of rest of my childhood from birth that I was at any moment, out of nowhere (my mother was psychotically mentally ill with me as her abuse target as my book at link below describes) going to be brutally attacked was absent.

This event COULD have been a very low spot – what I call a risk factor moment —  in my horrifying childhood rather than being the powerful, necessary (to me) resiliency factor moment that I built upon to successfully raise my own children and to care about others.  (In my case, I believe in what I call “borrowed secure attachment” rather than in “earned secure attachment” – a online search of terms “stop the storm borrowed secure attachment” will highlight some related posts.)

There is no possible “resiliency measurement tool” that could capture what truly traumatic childhoods are/were like.  But in the interest of preserving the integrity of useful data through meticulous research what is found MUST be processed by thinkers steeped in the depths of what early trauma IS.  The impeccable artistry and beauty of individual survivor’s lives must not be lost in the mad rush to understand what numbers-only are telling us.

Only with this understanding can any useful thinking about a vague concept like “resiliency” be made to pull its weight in efforts to understand and stop trauma and to assist those who survive it to increase their well-being across their lifespan.

I learned all I was going to find out in the 18 years of my childhood about what love-of-Linda was going to feel like.  All I was going to learn about what love might be like PERIOD I learned during those moments.  I believe traumatized children notice every possible useful bit of information and make PROFOUNDLY amazing good use of those tidbits.  That kind of resiliency, if we are going to call it that, is to me nothing more or less than the will to survive coupled with accumulating the tools necessary to do so.

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

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+MILDRED’S WRITINGS – WHAT ‘STUDY GROUP’ QUESTIONS DO THEY PRESENT?

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I do want to add one thing here before I lose this little piece of pink-pad paper that I scrawled these notes down on last night after I completed the major edit-proof of the second volume of Mildred’s writings I just posted links to.  I know there are some important levels to my mother’s story – some that are obvious and some that are not.  Each of these levels can contribute something to the overall study of human nature, and I believe each of them is worthy of ‘book study group’ investigation.

The history of the roles of women is a big theme behind all womens’ lives, but especially so for my mother who was born (1925) into a family with a professional (and soon divorced – 1930) mother.  My mother was the product of one of the first kinds of ‘broken homes’ that have since swept America.

What were the limitations imposed on my mother as a result of her choice to be a ‘housewife’ and ‘homemaker’ rather than a ‘career woman’?  What does it mean to ‘have a home’ and ‘to make a home’?

Mildred’s story also contains a powerful example of America’s obsession with WEIGHT as well as with America’s obsession with MONEY (including the consequence of sickness and the costs of medical attention).  I can write a series of ‘study group’ questions about these concerns, as well.  Another important thread is the topic of parenting and the developmental stages of children (and their rights) — which I believe is closely tied to the topic of love for the land itself:  What is our personal feeling relationship with this glorious planet we live on?  (Yes, my mother could love that mountain and its valley at the same time she could commit terrible acts of harm against a child.  What went so wrong?)

What ‘used to happen’ to womens’ talents and gifts – and now?  What did it mean to be a brilliant woman?  An educated one?  What about choices for women to marry or not, bear children or not, ‘wear the pants in the family’ or not?  What has it always meant to girls and women when the ‘boys’ in the family were so cherished – spoiled – favored – and not the girls?  How do male relations influence the development of girls?

Of course the history of American pioneer women relates to this story.  Although my mother asserts that her husband ‘was behind’ the move to Alaska and the homesteading itself, I don’t believe he was.  How many women actually were behind their family’s immigrations and pioneering efforts — rather than the men?  And thus changed the course of history?

What do we value?  What do we want?  What do we hope and dream for?  What are the obstacles we face, and what do we do about them?  What are ALL our resources – how do we identify them, expand them, control them and use them?   How do we plan for the future?  How do we learn from our mistakes — and what do we learn?  How do we incorporate the changes that ‘growing through a lifespan’ gives to us – no matter what?

What is the truth, the REAL truth about our closest relationships?  What is the truth about how we were raised as children and about how our parents treat us as adults?  What do we, particularly as women, believe about friendships with women?  Who supports us in our greatest hours of need?

What have we learned from our ‘culture’ – particularly from the culture of our families ‘back then’ as immigrants to this great nation who brought with them their cultures-of-origin?  How does our ‘social standing’ affect how we see ourselves and others?  How does our culture, including our stereotypes and prejudices limit us?  How do we OUTGROW ideas and beliefs that are not helpful to well-being?

What do we disclose about our ‘personal’ and ‘intimate’ life?  How do we decide what to ‘expose’ and what to bury away and keep hidden at all costs?  This invisible ‘boundary’ and ‘borderline’ dividing the two has changed rapidly in recent American history.  What do these changes mean to us all?  (My mother would have died of rage and mortification and  made sure I left this world with her if she had ever known what I (her despised daughter, especially) was going to do with her ‘private’ words!  Yet the law states when a person dies (and she IS dead 2002) their rights to any words they leave behind dies with them.)

The unrecognized mental illness, of course, completely taints my mother’s story at the same time that her severe child abusing actions are omitted.  After I completed my efforts last night these ‘study group’ questions immediately popped into my mind and then out onto this little piece of pink paper:

What is mental illness?

Where does it come from?

Who gets it?

How do we recognize it?

What can be done about it?

Is it a doomsday sentence?

Does it make a person ‘flawed’ or ‘bad’?

Will it get better?

How does it affect the people we love and who love us?

Is there hope for new choice, change and healing?

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Once I have completed all four of these volumes, the bigger picture of my mother, Mildred, and of her life’s many different patterns will emerge.  Those intermixing threads will then be identified and examined individually and as they intermingle with one another.

I do not believe that what we so blithely refer to as ‘bad genes’ that ’cause mental illness’ operate in a vacuum.  A combination of powerful early developmental forces combine their influence to send a tiny growing child off on a trajectory that can END UP being extremely problematic.  My mother’s Alaskan homesteading story is a case study as well as an historical document about one single women — who, yes, dared to go where only a small handful of ‘modern women’ chose to go.

What, on all its multiple levels, can we learn from her story?  I personally have yet to find out.

AND most importantly, how do we recognize child abusing parents and protect their children?

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NOTE:  Any blog readers that wish to, please post comments including ‘study group’ topic suggestions (and questions for them) at the end of the volumes of my mother’s writings at these links I present (or at the end of this post):

*HOPE FOR A MOUNTAIN: MILDRED’S ALASKAN HOMESTEADING TALE – VOLUME ONE – BEGINNING A DREAM

*HOPE FOR A MOUNTAIN: MILDRED’S ALASKAN HOMESTEADING TALE – VOLUME TWO – LIVING FOR THE LAND


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+LAST NIGHT’S DREAM: FIGHTING AND WINNING THE PERFECT FIGHT WHERE NOBODY GETS HURT

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Having been granted (in effect) ‘a stay of execution’ from aggressive, advanced cancer as I mentioned in my previous post, I can think of something I would so much RATHER be doing than sit here at this computer and write this post.

I WANT to be at some beautiful ocean beach with good friends and happy children, watching and listening to ocean waves crashing upon the shore.  I want to walk barefoot on warm slippery rocks as I investigate fascinating miniature life in tide pools there.  I want to lay back in the perfect warmth of a sunny day and watch puffy clouds glide across the sky while below them sailboats slide across the sparkling, glistening water toward the horizon.

But, no.  Here I am with a dream story to tell.  Even here though, I want to change myself from the “I” of the story into someone else – not me – though it was ME in this dream and me who dreamed it.  So I might as well get on with this telling now, because I know I will not rest until this post is written, nor will I be able to move on.  I have work to do in this time I have been given on this earth……

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I was in a small and humble village that was a ‘cross’ between something like a small American Pennsylvania town and a remote village in Mexico.  A man discovered that I contained-possessed a great talent and a remarkable gift.  He brought me to a yard in this town, and soon after our arrival people began to gather.

In the center of the yard people began to clear and level a spot on the ground for a boxing ring.  Part way through the owner of the house pulled a small white object out of the moist black earth in the center of the yard and began gently brushing the soil off of it.

“Oh!” He quietly exclaimed.  “It is San Miguel that watches over you and guides you with this gift!”

I am not Catholic.  I know nothing about Saints, and do not really understand about angels.  What I saw in that man’s hand as he turned, continuing to mutter silently and reverently to himself as he left to wash this little statue, was a figure that looked to me to be part bull and part lion.  (See notes below)

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I was prepared by the man who had found me and my gift, and who had escorted me to this place and called the people to gather, for the boxing ring.  I know nothing about boxing.  Nor did I know in the dream.  But into the ring I climbed and fought with a worthy opponent a perfect boxing match – much to the delight of every man and woman watching.

I seemed to have butterfly wings for feet that could move faster than a hummingbird’s wing.  I could see into the future and perfectly deflect every punch that was thrown my way.  I felt myself to be in a completely different world as the fight progressed, and in the end, after 12 rounds, I won even though not a single instant of pain or violence had actually transpired.

I humbly had been given the most miraculous gift of being able to box through a perfect fight without causing or experiencing any harm at all.

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A week later everyone gathered again to watch yet another match.  All these people were humble and more friendly than I had ever known humans to be.  There was a sense of love, respect and again reverent appreciation for this gift I had been given – to fight the perfect fight.

This second time we all waited a long time for the man who had discovered me – my ‘manage’ to arrive.  Eventually word was sent that he could not come.  Slightly disappointed, the crowd continued to visit – and I woke from my dream.

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I believe this dream came to me in part because of the great conflict I experienced yesterday as I realized that my mother’s written words, eight years after her death and fifty years after she wrote them, still contain the power to hurt some of the still-living people she wrote about.  (see the parallel line of concerns expressed in the comment section HERE.)

That does not mean (according to my dream) that I cannot ‘fight the perfect fight’ in relation to what I hope to accomplish by my work with my mother’s writings.  I was surprised to read information online like what I mention below.  The connections between my mother, the severe child abuse she perpetrated, the deeply disturbed relationships she had with everyone in her life – and my fight against severe child abuse – become obvious in looking at the meaning to me of this dream.

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Saint Michael the Archangel

Catholic Prayer to Saint Michael

Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray;
and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host –
by the Divine Power of God –
cast into hell, satan and all the evil spirits,
who roam throughout the world seeking the ruin of souls.

Amen.

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What is a Cherub?

“Cherubim are first mentioned in the Bible in Gen 3:24, where Adam and Eve are expelled from the Garden, and two cherubim are set at the gate to guard it, so that no one may enter.

In Ex 25f and 36f, the Israelites are to make a chest called the Ark of the Covenant, and place on the lid statues of two cherubim, with their wings arching over and meeting in the middle. Aside from the fact that they had wings, we are not told anything about their appearance. It was apparently taken for granted that the Israelites already knew what a cherub was supposed to look like. It is a reasonable guess that they looked like the guard figures already standard in Middle Eastern art, as noted above.

Ancient Middle Eastern art regularly shows the throne of a king or a god flanked by, or sometimes resting on, two creatures. Typically, each creature has the body of a lion or a bull (often the front quarters of a lion, with claws, and the hind quarters of a bull, with hooves, or vice versa), the head of a man, and the wings of an eagle.”

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The Lion and the Bull image:

The Sumerian word lama, which in Akkadian is translated as lamassu, refers to a helpful and protective female god. The corresponding male god was called alad, in Akkadian, šêdu (cf. Hebrew שד šed).[1]

In art they were depicted as hybrids, as winged bulls or lions with the head of a human male. There are still surviving figures of šêdu in bas-relief and some statues in museums. Notable examples of šêdu/lamassu held by museums include those at the British Museum, Musée du Louvre, National Museum of Iraq, Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Oriental Institute, Chicago. They are generally attributed to the ancient Assyrians.[2][3]

To protect houses the šêdu were engraved in clay tablets, which were buried under the door’s threshold.   At the entrance of palaces often placed as a pair. At the entrance of cities they were sculpted in colossal size, and placed as a pair, one at each side of the door of the city, that generally had doors in the surrounding wall, each one looking towards one of the cardinal points.

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+FOOLED BY AN ABUSIVE BORDERLINE? – MY MOTHER’S EXPERT DISTORTION OF REALITY

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see also:

+MY ABUSIVE BPD MOTHER LOST HER WINGS – AND NEVER GREW UP

How expert are you at being able to detect the twisted reality presented by a severely abusive Borderline?  The clues to the truth do not lie with the Borderline, they exist within the empathic abilities of outside observers to know the truth from a lie.  This ability to know true reality from the lies of a deceptive reality so marginally exits within an abusive Borderline that I would say it does not exist at all.

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For example:

Brain Scans Clarify Borderline Personality Disorder

By Rick Nauert PhD

Using real-time brain imaging, a team of researchers have discovered that patients with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) are physically unable to regulate emotion.

The findings, by Harold W. Koenigsberg, MD, professor of psychiatry at Mount Sinai School of Medicine suggest individuals with BPD are unable to activate neurological networks that would help to control feelings.   READ ARTICLE HERE

(NOTE:  In later posts I will write about my father’s participation in my mother’s distorted reality.  I believe he had an avoidant-dismissive insecure attachment that meant his brain could regulate emotion to the extreme — but not in a normal way.  His brain, which could overly activate ‘neurological networks’ that helped him overly control his feelings, was the perfect compliment to my mother’s Borderline brain.)

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WHAT HAPPENS WITHIN THE BORDERLINE BRAIN?

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Perhaps the most important piece of information those of us who were severely abused and traumatized by a Borderline Personality Disordered mother need to understand is that our mothers had/have a completely different kind of brain.  These severe Borderline brains are expertly created through completely natural (and possible) processes of distortions in early childhood that in the end make the brain differences most difficult to detect unless and until we know what we are looking at when we consider the Borderline behaviors that manifest themselves as a result of early brain developmental changes.

We also need to understand that as a consequence of early traumatizing experiences a Borderline’s entire nervous system development (the brain is ‘just’ one component of the Central Nervous System) were changed and altered as well.  This means that my mothers Autonomic Nervous System, which regulates both stress-defense responses through its ‘GO’ sympathetic arm and the connecting, compassionate, caregiving and seeking responses through the calming arm of the ‘STOP’ parasympathetic branch (think ‘pair-a-brakes’) were changes, as well.

I now understand that everything about who and how my severe Borderline mother was in the world was different from ‘normal’.  What is harder to understand is why it took me so long to figure this out, and why nobody – not one single person including my father and grandmother – was able to detect the incredibly severe, consistent, perpetual, and horrible trauma and abuse my mother perpetrated against me for 18 long years.

What makes an abusive Borderline mother’s violence and horrible treatment of her offspring (most often, I suspect, of a ‘chosen child’) so nearly impossible to detect?

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I am presenting here a letter my mother wrote to her mother just prior to the first visit to Alaska to see us that my grandmother made after we left Alaska in August 1957 a month before my sixth birthday.

The distortion in my mother’s thinking about me that really shows how subtle and pervasive her psychosis was is present in this letter as I describe it in my comments within the text.  My mother’s Borderline reality, and her psychosis regarding me (age six at the time this letter was written) would be impossible for an outside reader to detect.

The same processes that make her psychosis (and the abuse it engendered toward me) impossible to detect are the same ones, I suggest, that made her abuse of me undetectable to others all during the 18 years of terrible suffering my mother caused me.  If readers think ‘undetectable deadly toxins’ as they read this, perhaps they will be able to twist their own thinking back to a normal-reality perspective as the proceed through the following words.

The biggest problem contact with a severe Borderline psychosis creates is that people with Borderline brains are so complete in their distortions of reality.  They spin such a believable story, weave such a believable lie, that nobody but the most trained observers can possibly begin to detect the deceptions the psychosis contains.  When a person encounters a Borderline such as my mother was, all rules of human decency are suspended, and the outsider does not have a clue – not a single solitary clue – that these rules have been changed.  Everyone outside of the Borderline’s skin becomes instantaneously consumed within the distorted reality.

I can say here that I don’t give a solitary damn myself about anything I write here.  My concern is for those poor, pitiful, unbelievably tortured other people who grew up being the victim of a twisted Borderline’s reality – and with all those helpless, powerless suffering children who are trying to endure a Borderline parent’s torture at this present moment in time.

I know what I am talking about here.  My mother was probably among the best of the best of the best of abusive Borderlines.  Her web of deceptions was as impeccable as it was sinister and destructive.  And it was invisible, evidently, to all but her single chosen prey – me – and my poor siblings who had to live within the darkened home she controlled and ruined.

Because I was born into my mother’s hate-filled psychosis – and I mean this literally because the core of the psychosis formed during her labor with me – I had no possible way to begin to understand that my mother’s reality was not real.  The discoveries of REAL reality I uncover as I work with her 50-year-old-letters only come to me because I have found a way to take a safe stance as I read them.  That safe stance is ONLY possible now because I have enough information, finally, about Borderline brain changes to detect the clues that show me the presence of my mother’s invisible psychosis when I encounter them.

I am able to make the invisible visible.  There is no action more empowering for a severe early infant-child abuse survivor than this.  As you read the following you will be a part of experiencing this process in action.  Turn up the volume of your sensitivities here – turn it WAY up.  The truth contained in the deceptions of an abusive Borderline’s lies – that create the reality they BELIEVE – are so subtle as to actually exist exactly at that BORDERLINE the name of their disorder suggests.

The BORDERLINE appears, like a line drawn in invisible ink, exactly at the place where the observer can detect THEIR OWN INTERNAL EMOTIONAL CLUES that a deception of such grand proportions actually exists that it seems beyond belief.  It is at this BORDERLINE where what does not possibly seem believable is in fact BELIEVABLE that the expert Borderline brain’s creation of distorted reality becomes no longer invisible.

A Borderline such as my mother was does not possess within the operation of their brain or entire nervous system-body the capacity to detect the deceptions that form their reality.

The detection of the deceptions can ONLY come from those aware observers from the outside who have the capacity to – actually – experience the near outer-limits of EMPATHIC ability.  Observers have to know their own self, be able to sense with exquisite, accurate sensitivity what they are themselves feeling – within their own body – as they interact with an expert, professional Borderline like my mother was.

My mother’s Borderline deception-reality was NOT ACCURATE, but it was profoundly presented as such, as it is in this letter.  The clues to the truth do not lie here within my mother’s words.  They lie within the body-brain-mind of the outsiders who read them.

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An example of the pervasively subtle psychosis my mother had about me — along with my comments.  My grandmother was soon to come for her first visit since we had left Los Angeles and moved to Alaska in August of 1957 a month before my sixth birthday:

June 4, 1958

Dear Mother,

Imagine – 10 more days and you’ll be here!!  Does it seem possible?  Yesterday morning I looked at the calendar and was amazed to see that the happy day falls one week from this Saturday.  But then I became concerned.  It’s the best day for you to come but also the day I planned John’s party for the boys.

This is going to be a business letter as I’ll see you to chat in no time at all now.  I do feel he needs a party.  I wrote you about his shyness and Jo Anne’s remarks etc. and I’ve had quite a time overcoming this.

Then this summer I knew he had to have boys to play with and yet he didn’t want to go to Vanovers.  They’re big boys for their age, bossy and dominating – like her and he’s too young to understand their talk and sarcasm – and far too sweet and sensitive.  I knew he needed self-confidence this summer.

Well, I encouraged him to go to Headlows who I found out that they have 3 girls and one boy – perfect match?  He’s a darling boy6 and John and he hit it off from the first.

Then another boy Johnny Johnson moved to the hill.  His Mom owns the Department store at the shopping center.  She’s nice and so is he – I like the Headlow boy better but they’re both nice.

Now yesterday Gerry Vanover came over but he’s loud, bossy etc. but I was nice and John was happy but still prefers others.

Now his party will be perfect.  He needs it and I’ve promised.  I want it late afternoon and a BBQ – hot dogs and rolls so it won’t interfere with your arriving except this:  it will be an all boy party out doors and I don’t want the girls here. [She drew a little sketch for invitations that ‘John can draw’ showing person at BBQ.]

So last nite Bill and I talked it over and arrived at the conclusion if it suits you.  At first I was afraid it would be too much for you to arrive midst a child’s party but you could rest indoors.  Your plane is due to arrive around noon – give or take one hour!  We’ll take girls over to Le Verne’s house.  Her mom takes care of children anyway and I adore Le Verne.  I’ll talk it up to girls – give them new color books and some ‘party food’.  They’ve never been to her house and they’ll enjoy it.

I’d rather we all met you but plane could be one hour late or early so this way Bill and John will meet you – OK?  And I’ll wait home.  We’ll take you sight seeing Sunday and have family party Sunday too.

You’ll be here for that and meet boys too!  Then after party we’ll all go get girls!!

Oh Mom, I get so excited!  I’ve missed you so!  Won’t it be wonderful?  I’m working like mad to get house all clean, waxed and fixed so we won’t have a thing to do.

Bible School starts 9th through 20th and 3 older ones will go so you can rest and we’ll visit first week – only Sharon will be home.  Even she knows you’re coming and talks about it constantly.

Now does this plan meet with your approval.  I could go too if I was sure plane wouldn’t be late – we’ll see.  I’ll have his party at 3:00 – 7:00 or could be 4:00 – 7:00.  I’ll have house clean and food ready, potato salad, cake, etc.  He’ll be in 7th heaven and deserves it.  Will give him our gifts on Sunday.

Now I haven’t asked Le Verne yet.  Let me know your reaction right away!!

We’re planning lots of things to do on week-ends and Bill is going to buy a jeep truck today – good buy, only $600 and he needs it to get back to homestead – then I’ll have the car!!

First week relax.  2nd week-end trip to Girdwood Road and Portage Glacier and visit gold mines and pan for gold!!!  This is road will connect with our Eagle River Road when put through.  [Linda note:  2010, the road was never ‘put through’.]  We’ve never been to these places but have saved them for when you get here!!

Next week = you and I and children to Palmer and Valley.  Nice ride, paved road and we’ll take picnic and visit Rusty Dow – a character and painter.  I want to get some for art shop.  Fun?  Bill’s been to Palmer so we’ll go during week.

Week-end trip and stay over night – to Homer, Alaska.  Colorful, interesting beautiful scenery but rough, dirt road and long trip but FUN.  Another week-end to Seward.  A long day trip and picnic!!

Evening – Fire Lake Lodge and Spring Creek Lodge for dinner at nearby places.  Chart Room in town at Hotel.  Music Festival in Anchorage.  We’re going first Monday to visit gift shops with Alaska Woodcrafts – Mr. Bockstahler’s new wife – you’ll like her.  We want ideas and you’ll enjoy it.

So much to do and see.  Weather is coolish in 60s and 70s – I think you’ll need sweaters and blouses with sleeves.  Nights are light and cool!

We have beds all planned.  Children go to bed as usual and when we all turn in – we transfer Cindy to cot in John’s and Linda’s room and you sleep in Sharon’s room on folding bed.  It’s full size and comfortable – roll-a-way OK?  There that’s settled!

I’m not planning on having neighbors over – you and I will visit them!  I want to enjoy your visit and not plan parties OK?

One Saturday or Sunday we’ll drive in to see country back in but no need to hike

Remember, I wrote you I was to be Brownie Leader’s Assistant – sounds funny.  I hate not to keep my promises (like a Good Brownie) and had hoped to do it with Linda but I got so worried.  Kathy P. was to watch children.  She’s nice but just turned 14 and a flitter budget.  I got worried and this morning wrote a note saying I couldn’t help.  I feel terrible but better!!  Creek has risen so it’s not recognizable as same gentle stream.  It’s overflowed and is fast, dangerous and deep.  They never go there without us but might.  At night you can hear water rushing even in house.  The rapids and current is so strong – a child could never stand up and would be washed to river immediately.  Makes me shudder!!  I couldn’t leave Cindy and Sharon with her.  I told her I could help after 14th.  She’s expecting and wanted me to take troop while she had baby in July.  Also I’d be gone 4 hours and that adds up in baby sitting $ and I don’t trust neighbors.  What a worrier I am!!

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[Linda note 2010:  Doesn’t surprise me she would find major reasons not to do something with me – and not to admit that she hated doing anything with me.  I am really surprised she let me go – but having there would NOT have been good for me at all, either, of course.  Her tone here is completely different than when she just wrote about doing a birthday party for John, even though at least here she is not ‘slamming’ me directly (at least).

My mother very rarely writes such a single long paragraph, either – confirming my suspicion that her unconscious would in no way allow her to participate as a loving mother in anything that had to do with me.  Very cunning, sounds so legitimate.

Another side to this is that no doubt it SEEMED like something a GOOD mother would do, help with a Brownie troop.  I putting together her Borderline public façade, her public persona, being seen as THIS KIND of mother would have been a good thing – like a prop in her pretend mother play.

Yet at the same time my mother lacked the capacity to ever concern herself, truly, with someone else’s needs.  It became apparent to my mother that this would not have been a pretend activity.  She would REALLY have had to take over this troop, REALLY and actually HELP, do something real outside of her own kingdom, her own range of control and influence.  She knew she would not have been allowed to be her own true controlling self in this outside environment.  The light of day would have shown up both her true intentions (that she did not see or comprehend) and her actions.

In addition, she certainly would not have been allowed to act toward me as she always did.  She would not have been able to control and overrun me in the public setting of a Brownie troop group.  At the same time, if she were away from her home, she could not have controlled what happened there, either.  That faintly, perhaps, her precious doll-baby-children MIGHT have gone too near the creek and MIGHT have been endangered was NOT a concern for her children’s safety.  It was a concern based on her obsession that her children were not only her possessions; they were extended parts of her self – her mind, her psyche and her sickness.

It is never the sign of a healthy, normal safe and secure parent-child attachment when the truth that lies within the attachment is that the parent’s deep psychological needs are involved in ‘getting met’ in the relationship.  When this happens it is an activated parental insecure attachment disorder that is operating.  When this happens, true caregiving for others is not possible.  My mother was, as my sister recently noted, her children’s and her husband’s ‘puppet master’.  She could not be in true relationship with anyone, not even with her own self.

These altered patterns of relationship are so subtle, at least within a very disturbed Borderline, that they are nearly impossible to detect unless the observer KNOWS what they are looking at.  Because I have spent the past six years carefully observing my mother’s thinking and behavior as it appeared in her letters, all constructed with few exceptions for an outside ‘public’ audience that I can begin to notice where the deceptions in her thinking appear.

Even though my mother was purportedly writing to her mother privately, these letters, preserved as they have been for over 50 years, were written by my mother with the intention that someday they would be used to write ‘an Alaskan book’.  On those very few occasions where I can see, touch, taste, smell my mother’s distorted thinking within these letters, I cannot ignore what I know.  This small description of why my mother suddenly could concoct a completely believable (to her or to anyone else) reason why she could not assist as a Brownie scout leader in a troop with her daughter in it is one of those times I can see how pervasive her psychosis truly was.

My mother mentioned the creek to her mother in a letter written the day before this letter was, and she mentions nothing risky or sinister about it:  “The creek is full and deep now as glacier and snow melts.”  But the presence of too much water in the creek gave her the perfect alibi when she needed it.  I don’t for one instant believe any of her children, especially Cindy who was extremely responsible as she approached 5 years of age, especially with John in the house when my mother was gone as he approached 9 years of age, would ever have gone near this creek alone – nor let sister Sharon approaching age 3.  That my mother is saying she could not trust a 14-year-old sitter to watch her children safely is hog wash.  Just plain Borderline-psychosis-constructed nonsense.

A Borderline does not have the capacity to conceive either of self or of others in a normal way.  Everyone outside of my mother was an extension of herself, a living prop in her drama-play at life.  That she – and everyone else – did not see or know what was going on in our home, in her life, or in her psyche did not take away from the fact that her psychosis touched and influenced everything she ever did.

My mother evidently somehow decided for this one year of my young life that it served her purposes to let me participate in Brownies.  I have no reason to believe that this one experience would have been her single exception to her rule of making Linda’s life perpetually miserable.  Somehow my being a Brownie made my mother look good in the public eye.  This was my only childhood experience that let me get away from her influence and be around something meaningful and positive, and to interact as a child (age 6 here) with adults who treated me as the child I was.

For anyone reading these words who doubts the accuracy of what I am describing here in regard to my mother’s sickness, let me mention that one of the hallmarks of the Borderline mother is that NOBODY is supposed to ever detect the presence of the abuse these mothers so expertly enact upon a child.  A Borderline like my mother was is an absolute professional at deception.

Part of the reason why deception like is being presented her in my mother’s account is so effective is that it comes from a completely constructed invisible, unconscious reality that exists BECAUSE the ‘owner’s’ psyche is completely contaminated by their disease.  This pervasive contamination is like a highly effective contagion.  It contaminates the growing mind’s of such a parent’s children, and it contaminates the psyche (unconsciously) of everyone who comes in contact with a professional-psychotic Borderline.

I encourage any reader who disagrees with my hard-earned ability to decipher my mother’s mental mess to take a look at how this kind of deception, so carefully constructed that it legitimizes whatever the Borderline mother turns her thinking toward no matter how insane, how out-of-touch with actual reality it might be.  If you doubt me here, you believe my mother’s version of reality.

It is for the same reason you might doubt me (and my reality) while believing my mother’s lies that nobody ever detected the 18 years of severe abuse my mother perpetrated against me.  My mother was very, very, very good at what she did – creating an alternate reality based upon her distorted brain’s operation that seemed to make sense to everyone, her own self included.

I am the only one alive who knows the truth about how this Linda-being-a-Brownie scout chapter of this story progressed, and more importantly, how it ended.  Our family moved out of the Log House by the end of the summer of 1958, eventually into an apartment in Anchorage for the winter, and back to the Log House in 1959 by which time the homesteading saga consumed our lives in earnest.  By fall 1959 I was back in Brownies, and had sold the essential Brownie Scout Cookies.

The afternoon I collected the money for the cookie sales, put it into a Milk Dud box, and then had it all fall out through the faulty bottom of the box without my noticing this was happening, before I returned home, marked the ending of this story with unspeakable, and unbelievable distortion and violence.  My mother accused me of stealing the money, and because after hours in the evening twilight of retracing my every step through the neighborhood of Eagle River searching for the fallen coins I could not find them, I was accused of being a thief and a liar and was beaten afterwards severely – not once, but every time my mother brought up my ‘crime’ until I left home at 18.  ]

++

Now John for first time is old enough to come and go and is so good about coming back in one hour – etc.

Children need me at home and I can spread myself too thin.

I trust you and Bill in day time and Le Verne at night and 3rd choice days.

Golly so much to write.  I only earned 1.75 imagine – Sunday!  People looked but didn’t buy.  Tell you more later!!

Children still asleep.  I’ve been writing this in bed.  Got Bill’s breakfast and got back in.  They sleep late mornings til 9:00 or 10:00!  So you’ll rest too – of course Bible School starts at 9:30 so will have to get them up early.

Guess what?  Methodist bought Briggs new 30,000 house for the new parson for the new full time Methodist Chugiak Minister.  Now what do you think of that and new church to be built!!

Mrs. Pottle wants me to help with tea for him Sunday?  Probably will take children here if improves as never get to [words washed out here] visit both while you’re here.  Must close!  Love, Mildred.  PS.  Can hardly wait – you know me.

June 4, 1958

Dear Mother,

Imagine – 10 more days and you’ll be here!!  Does it seem possible?  Yesterday morning I looked at the calendar and was amazed to see that the happy day falls one week from this Saturday.  But then I became concerned.  It’s the best day for you to come but also the day I planned John’s party for the boys.

This is going to be a business letter as I’ll see you to chat in no time at all now.  I do feel he needs a party.  I wrote you about his shyness and Jo Anne’s remarks etc. and I’ve had quite a time overcoming this.

Then this summer I knew he had to have boys to play with and yet he didn’t want to go to Vanovers.  They’re big boys for their age, bossy and dominating – like her and he’s too young to understand their talk and sarcasm – and far too sweet and sensitive.  I knew he needed self-confidence this summer.

Well, I encouraged him to go to Headlows who I found out that they have 3 girls and one boy – perfect match?  He’s a darling boy6 and John and he hit it off from the first.

Then another boy Johnny Johnson moved to the hill.  His Mom owns the Department store at the shopping center.  She’s nice and so is he – I like the Headlow boy better but they’re both nice.

Now yesterday Gerry Vanover came over but he’s loud, bossy etc. but I was nice and John was happy but still prefers others.

Now his party will be perfect.  He needs it and I’ve promised.  I want it late afternoon and a BBQ – hot dogs and rolls so it won’t interfere with your arriving except this:  it will be an all boy party out doors and I don’t want the girls here. [She drew a little sketch for invitations that ‘John can draw’ showing person at BBQ.]

So last nite Bill and I talked it over and arrived at the conclusion if it suits you.  At first I was afraid it would be too much for you to arrive midst a child’s party but you could rest indoors.  Your plane is due to arrive around noon – give or take one hour!  We’ll take girls over to Le Verne’s house.  Her mom takes care of children anyway and I adore Le Verne.  I’ll talk it up to girls – give them new color books and some ‘party food’.  They’ve never been to her house and they’ll enjoy it.

I’d rather we all met you but plane could be one hour late or early so this way Bill and John will meet you – OK?  And I’ll wait home.  We’ll take you sight seeing Sunday and have family party Sunday too.

You’ll be here for that and meet boys too!  Then after party we’ll all go get girls!!

Oh Mom, I get so excited!  I’ve missed you so!  Won’t it be wonderful?  I’m working like mad to get house all clean, waxed and fixed so we won’t have a thing to do.

Bible School starts 9th through 20th and 3 older ones will go so you can rest and we’ll visit first week – only Sharon will be home.  Even she knows you’re coming and talks about it constantly.

Now does this plan meet with your approval.  I could go too if I was sure plane wouldn’t be late – we’ll see.  I’ll have his party at 3:00 – 7:00 or could be 4:00 – 7:00.  I’ll have house clean and food ready, potato salad, cake, etc.  He’ll be in 7th heaven and deserves it.  Will give him our gifts on Sunday.

Now I haven’t asked Le Verne yet.  Let me know your reaction right away!!

We’re planning lots of things to do on week-ends and Bill is going to buy a jeep truck today – good buy, only $600 and he needs it to get back to homestead – then I’ll have the car!!

First week relax.  2nd week-end trip to Girdwood Road and Portage Glacier and visit gold mines and pan for gold!!!  This is road will connect with our Eagle River Road when put through.  [Linda note:  2010, the road was never ‘put through’.]  We’ve never been to these places but have saved them for when you get here!!

Next week = you and I and children to Palmer and Valley.  Nice ride, paved road and we’ll take picnic and visit Rusty Dow – a character and painter.  I want to get some for art shop.  Fun?  Bill’s been to Palmer so we’ll go during week.

Week-end trip and stay over night – to Homer, Alaska.  Colorful, interesting beautiful scenery but rough, dirt road and long trip but FUN.  Another week-end to Seward.  A long day trip and picnic!!

Evening – Fire Lake Lodge and Spring Creek Lodge for dinner at nearby places.  Chart Room in town at Hotel.  Music Festival in Anchorage.  We’re going first Monday to visit gift shops with Alaska Woodcrafts – Mr. Bockstahler’s new wife – you’ll like her.  We want ideas and you’ll enjoy it.

So much to do and see.  Weather is coolish in 60s and 70s – I think you’ll need sweaters and blouses with sleeves.  Nights are light and cool!

We have beds all planned.  Children go to bed as usual and when we all turn in – we transfer Cindy to cot in John’s and Linda’s room and you sleep in Sharon’s room on folding bed.  It’s full size and comfortable – roll-a-way OK?  There that’s settled!

I’m not planning on having neighbors over – you and I will visit them!  I want to enjoy your visit and not plan parties OK?

One Saturday or Sunday we’ll drive in to see country back in but no need to hike

Remember, I wrote you I was to be Brownie Leader’s Assistant – sounds funny.  I hate not to keep my promises (like a Good Brownie) and had hoped to do it with Linda but I got so worried.  Kathy P. was to watch children.  She’s nice but just turned 14 and a flitter budget.  I got worried and this morning wrote a note saying I couldn’t help.  I feel terrible but better!!  Creek has risen so it’s not recognizable as same gentle stream.  It’s overflowed and is fast, dangerous and deep.  They never go there without us but might.  At night you can hear water rushing even in house.  The rapids and current is so strong – a child could never stand up and would be washed to river immediately.  Makes me shudder!!  I couldn’t leave Cindy and Sharon with her.  I told her I could help after 14th.  She’s expecting and wanted me to take troop while she had baby in July.  Also I’d be gone 4 hours and that adds up in baby sitting $ and I don’t trust neighbors.  What a worrier I am!!

[Linda note 2010:  Doesn’t surprise me she would find major reasons not to do something with me – and not to admit that she hated doing anything with me.  I am really surprised she let me go – but having there would NOT have been good for me at all, either, of course.  Her tone here is completely different than when she just wrote about doing a birthday party for John, even though at least here she is not ‘slamming’ me directly (at least).

My mother very rarely writes such a single long paragraph, either – confirming my suspicion that her unconscious would in no way allow her to participate as a loving mother in anything that had to do with me.  Very cunning, sounds so legitimate.

Another side to this is that no doubt it SEEMED like something a GOOD mother would do, help with a Brownie troop.  I putting together her Borderline public façade, her public persona, being seen as THIS KIND of mother would have been a good thing – like a prop in her pretend mother play.

Yet at the same time my mother lacked the capacity to ever concern herself, truly, with someone else’s needs.  It became apparent to my mother that this would not have been a pretend activity.  She would REALLY have had to take over this troop, REALLY and actually HELP, do something real outside of her own kingdom, her own range of control and influence.  She knew she would not have been allowed to be her own true controlling self in this outside environment.  The light of day would have shown up both her true intentions (that she did not see or comprehend) and her actions.

In addition, she certainly would not have been allowed to act toward me as she always did.  She would not have been able to control and overrun me in the public setting of a Brownie troop group.  At the same time, if she were away from her home, she could not have controlled what happened there, either.  That faintly, perhaps, her precious doll-baby-children MIGHT have gone too near the creek and MIGHT have been endangered was NOT a concern for her children’s safety.  It was a concern based on her obsession that her children were not only her possessions; they were extended parts of her self – her mind, her psyche and her sickness.

It is never the sign of a healthy, normal safe and secure parent-child attachment when the truth that lies within the attachment is that the parent’s deep psychological needs are involved in ‘getting met’ in the relationship.  When this happens it is an activated parental insecure attachment disorder that is operating.  When this happens, true caregiving for others is not possible.  My mother was, as my sister recently noted, her children’s and her husband’s ‘puppet master’.  She could not be in true relationship with anyone, not even with her own self.

These altered patterns of relationship are so subtle, at least within a very disturbed Borderline, that they are nearly impossible to detect unless the observer KNOWS what they are looking at.  Because I have spent the past six years carefully observing my mother’s thinking and behavior as it appeared in her letters, all constructed with few exceptions for an outside ‘public’ audience that I can begin to notice where the deceptions in her thinking appear.

Even though my mother was purportedly writing to her mother privately, these letters, preserved as they have been for over 50 years, were written by my mother with the intention that someday they would be used to write ‘an Alaskan book’.  On those very few occasions where I can see, touch, taste, smell my mother’s distorted thinking within these letters, I cannot ignore what I know.  This small description of why my mother suddenly could concoct a completely believable (to her or to anyone else) reason why she could not assist as a Brownie scout leader in a troop with her daughter in it is one of those times I can see how pervasive her psychosis truly was.

My mother mentioned the creek to her mother in a letter written the day before this letter was, and she mentions nothing risky or sinister about it:  “The creek is full and deep now as glacier and snow melts.”  But the presence of too much water in the creek gave her the perfect alibi when she needed it.  I don’t for one instant believe any of her children, especially Cindy who was extremely responsible as she approached 5 years of age, especially with John in the house when my mother was gone as he approached 9 years of age, would ever have gone near this creek alone – nor let sister Sharon approaching age 3.  That my mother is saying she could not trust a 14-year-old sitter to watch her children safely is hog wash.  Just plain Borderline-psychosis-constructed nonsense.

A Borderline does not have the capacity to conceive either of self or of others in a normal way.  Everyone outside of my mother was an extension of herself, a living prop in her drama-play at life.  That she – and everyone else – did not see or know what was going on in our home, in her life, or in her psyche did not take away from the fact that her psychosis touched and influenced everything she ever did.

My mother evidently somehow decided for this one year of my young life that it served her purposes to let me participate in Brownies.  I have no reason to believe that this one experience would have been her single exception to her rule of making Linda’s life perpetually miserable.  Somehow my being a Brownie made my mother look good in the public eye.  This was my only childhood experience that let me get away from her influence and be around something meaningful and positive, and to interact as a child (age 6 here) with adults who treated me as the child I was.

For anyone reading these words who doubts the accuracy of what I am describing here in regard to my mother’s sickness, let me mention that one of the hallmarks of the Borderline mother is that NOBODY is supposed to ever detect the presence of the abuse these mothers so expertly enact upon a child.  A Borderline like my mother was is an absolute professional at deception.

Part of the reason why deception like is being presented her in my mother’s account is so effective is that it comes from a completely constructed invisible, unconscious reality that exists BECAUSE the ‘owner’s’ psyche is completely contaminated by their disease.  This pervasive contamination is like a highly effective contagion.  It contaminates the growing mind’s of such a parent’s children, and it contaminates the psyche (unconsciously) of everyone who comes in contact with a professional-psychotic Borderline.

I encourage any reader who disagrees with my hard-earned ability to decipher my mother’s mental mess to take a look at how this kind of deception, so carefully constructed that it legitimizes whatever the Borderline mother turns her thinking toward no matter how insane, how out-of-touch with actual reality it might be.  If you doubt me here, you believe my mother’s version of reality.

It is for the same reason you might doubt me (and my reality) while believing my mother’s lies that nobody ever detected the 18 years of severe abuse my mother perpetrated against me.  My mother was very, very, very good at what she did – creating an alternate reality based upon her distorted brain’s operation that seemed to make sense to everyone, her own self included.

I am the only one alive who knows the truth about how this Linda-being-a-Brownie scout chapter of this story progressed, and more importantly, how it ended.  Our family moved out of the Log House by the end of the summer of 1958, eventually into an apartment in Anchorage for the winter, and back to the Log House in 1959 by which time the homesteading saga consumed our lives in earnest.  By fall 1959 I was back in Brownies, and had sold the essential Brownie Scout Cookies.

The afternoon I collected the money for the cookie sales, put it into a Milk Dud box, and then had it all fall out through the faulty bottom of the box without my noticing this was happening, before I returned home, marked the ending of this story with unspeakable, and unbelievable distortion and violence.  My mother accused me of stealing the money, and because after hours in the evening twilight of retracing my every step through the neighborhood of Eagle River searching for the fallen coins I could not find them, I was accused of being a thief and a liar and was beaten afterwards severely – not once, but every time my mother brought up my ‘crime’ until I left home at 18.  ]

Now John for first time is old enough to come and go and is so good about coming back in one hour – etc.

Children need me at home and I can spread myself too thin.

I trust you and Bill in day time and Le Verne at night and 3rd choice days.

Golly so much to write.  I only earned 1.75 imagine – Sunday!  People looked but didn’t buy.  Tell you more later!!

Children still asleep.  I’ve been writing this in bed.  Got Bill’s breakfast and got back in.  They sleep late mornings til 9:00 or 10:00!  So you’ll rest too – of course Bible School starts at 9:30 so will have to get them up early.

Guess what?  Methodist bought Briggs new 30,000 house for the new parson for the new full time Methodist Chugiak Minister.  Now what do you think of that and new church to be built!!

Mrs. Pottle wants me to help with tea for him Sunday?  Probably will take children here if improves as never get to [words washed out here] visit both while you’re here.  Must close!  Love, Mildred.  PS.  Can hardly wait – you know me.

++

If you have reason to question the kinds and amount of trauma-drama that is present in your life or present in the life of others you care about, beginning at the beginning by reading, studying and acknowledging the information at this link is of utmost importance:

EFFECTS OF A SECURE ATTACHMENT RELATIONSHIP ON RIGHT BRAIN DEVELOPMENT, AFFECT REGULATION, AND INFANT MENTAL HEALTH

By Dr. ALLAN N. SCHORE

SEE ALSO:

+WHY DID MY SIBLINGS NOT BELIEVE MY ABUSIVE BPD MOTHER?

+CHILD ABUSE AND BPD: TRACKING THE TRAUMA IN THE FAMILY TREE

+RATIONAL THOUGHT: POWER OF THE HUMAN SOUL BPD STEALS AWAY TO ENSURE SURVIVAL

+A NOTE TO CHILD ABUSERS WHO FIND THEIR WAY TO THIS BLOG

<!–[if !mso]>

+CALM THE CRYING BABY — IMMUNE SYSTEM STIMULATES VAGUS NERVE TRAUMA ALTERED DEVELOPMENT

+++++++++++++

I have been in HOT pursuit of an idea all day.  This thought has lingered inside of me for 4 years in a ‘body knowing’ place because of what I know as a survivor of severe abuse and malevolent treatment from birth until I left home at 18.

In order for this idea to be given form I need to link it to other people’s related thoughts, and many of these ideas are only recently appearing as science races into a new place of truth about what it means to be a human — and how we develop in interaction with our environment from out conception.

I am not a scientist.  Even if I come up with a theory, and develop an hypothesis, I cannot create or perform research to either prove or disprove my ideas.  So, I have to use the interactive thinking the web provides and see what I can come up with.

And I found something very exciting – but I could not find it until I included the words ‘fish’ and ‘evolution’ into my search on the ‘vagus nerve’ and ‘the immune response’.

It has been my thinking that there has to be a point within the body — and within the body of a developing infant-child exactly ‘where the fire meets the gunpowder’.  A tiny person is powerless to stop trauma that happens to it from outside of its body.  It is therefore forced to try to stop the trauma ON ITS INSIDES.

This STOP action is the job of the vagus nerve as it controls the parasympathetic STOP arm of our Autonomic Nervous System and interacts with our immune system.  Right at this point where the developing body has to try to STOP the force of the impact of trauma ON ITS INSIDES is where Trauma Altered Development is forced to kick in.

It is RIGHT here, at this present moment in time where I cannot think into the future and must patiently await for science to confirm what I know is true – that RIGHT here where the fire meets the gunpowder, where a developing infant-child has to adapt within a malevolent environment and alter who it is becoming that EPIGENTIC forces that interfere with normal development by altering the immune system-vagus nerve-Autonomic Nervous System and brain interactions in preparation for survival within a toxic, malevolent unsafe and insecure attachment environment come into play.  The research proving this point is coming, but it is not entirely here yet.

This, I believe, is where and how what Dr. Martin Teicher calls evolutionarily altered development happens.  When a tiny growing body cannot STOP the ongoing affects of trauma happening to it from outside its body, the STOPPING happens on the inside.

This form of Stop the Storm of the impact of trauma — within a developing little body — causes things to happen like what happened to change my mother into the monster she became.  She could not afford to experience the suffering deprivation-trauma caused her so her body found a way to STOP it.

++++

My idea goes back to the very beginnings of how severe abuse and neglect in a malevolent environment force a newborn to begin to alter its development in adaptation to the deprivation-traumas that surround and impact it.

Thinking about how a tiny little body has so much work to do to grow its Central Nervous System including its brain, and about how its Autonomic Nervous System is able to at least control its heart rate and breathing from birth, knowing that an infant’s immune system is already in operation, I think about how all these developing processes interconnect.

I believe that it is the job of the immune system to protect and defend us within our environment.  I therefore suspect that it is our immune system that responds to the toxins in our environment – and if our earliest caregivers actually maltreat us and are themselves toxins in our early world, then our immune system must respond accordingly.

In this response to threat, to trauma, all our development is changed.  I suspect that there is an intersection within us where our immune system affects our Autonomic Nervous System (ANS).  The vagus nerves are intimately connected with the parasympathetic STOP arm of our ANS.  (I have collected pages of information and active links today on the subject.)

I think about how development altered through trauma ends up often making people into such changed people that their lives become very difficult in adulthood, both for themselves and for those around them.  I think about my mother’s birthday post I wrote for her last night, and I think about how compassionate would be the opposite of the way she turned out.

++++

I have spent the best part of this day searching for information I read online a few years back about how information transmitted through the vagus nerve reaches male brains differently than it does female’s.  I remember reading that men receive the information from one branch of the nerve – the left one – only while women receive information into both sides of their brains through both branches of the vagus nerve at the same time.

I combed through every gender and the brain link I presented last Sunday, and found nothing about this!  So I have been on the hunt, in pursuit, ever since.

I just found a fascinating article connecting the vagus nerve to compassion—something that my mother, through her trauma altered early development, did not grow up to possess – compassion.  Something about her adaptation to early deprivation and trauma changed her – and eliminated the possibility of having this experience from her for the rest of her life.

This article 9referenced below) follows exactly my line of expanding thought about how early trauma interacts with our immune system, our developing brain, and impacts our Autonomic Nervous System’s development.  It seems very probable to me that the evolutionarily altered person Dr. Martin Teicher describes due to developmental changes through early exposure to trauma experiences changes related to what this article is describing.

Compassion at the Core of Social Work: A – Florida State University

This article by Dan Orzech contains the following:

THE SEAT OF COMPASSION:

THE VAGUS NERVE?

 

“… Dacher Keltner, PhD, believes that the seat of compassion may just lie somewhere else: the vagus nerve. Keltner is a professor of psychology at the University of California, Berkeley, and coeditor of Greater Good, a magazine about prosocial behavior such as compassion and forgiveness. For the past several years, he has been examining the novel hypothesis that the vagus nervea bundle of nerves that emerges out of the brain stem and wanders throughout the body, connecting to the lungs, heart, and digestive system, among other areas-is related to prosocial behavior such as caring for others and connecting with other people.

The vagus nerve is considered part of the parasympathetic branch of the autonomic nervous system. That means it’s involved in relaxation and calming the body down-the opposite of the “fight or flight” arousal for which the sympathetic branch of the autonomic nervous system is responsible. Medicine has traditionally focused on the vagus nerve’s role in controlling things such as breathing, heart rate, kidney function, and digestion. But researchers lately have experimented with stimulating the vagus nerve to treat epilepsy as well as drug-resistant cases of clinical depression (see sidebar).

Keltner has been exploring the idea that the vagus nerve-which is unique to mammals-is part of an attachment response. Mammals, he says, “attach to their offspring, and the vagus nerve helps us do that.” Researchers have already found that children with high levels of vagal activity are more resilient, can better handle stress, and get along better with peers than children with lower vagal tone.

In his laboratory; Keltner has found that the level of activity in peoples vagus nerve correlates with how warm and friendly they are to other people. Interestingly it also correlates with how likely they are to report having had a spiritual experience during a six-month follow-up period. And, says Keltner, vagal tone is correlated with how much compassion people feel when they’re presented with slides showing people in distress, such as starving children or people who are wincing or showing a facial expression of suffering. Among other things, Keltner is interested in the implications of these findings for human evolution. “Much of the scientific research so far on emotions,” he says, “has focused on negative emotions like anger, fear, or disgust”-what Keltner calls the “fight or flight” emotions. “We tend to assume,” says Keltner, “that evolution produced just these fight/flight tendencies, but it may have also produced a biologically based tendency to be good to other people and to sacrifice self-interest.

Evolutionary thought is increasingly arising at the position that the defining characteristic of human evolution is our sociality We are constantly cooperating, constantly doing things in interdependent fashion, and constantly embedded in relationships. From an evolutionary perspective, that suggests that we should have a set of emotions that help us do that work.”

MORE:

WATCH THIS VIDEO – HE SAYS WHAT I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR – THE VAGUS NERVE CONTROLS OUR IMMUNE SYSTEM!!  I believe that it is here that an abused developing infant-child experiences the start of its Trauma Altered Development.

 

Dacher Keltner in Conversation

43 min – Feb 5, 2009
Why have we evolved positive emotions like gratitude, amusement, awe and compassion? Dacher Keltner, professor of psychology at UC Berkeley
fora.tv/2009/02/05/Dacher_Keltner_in_Conversation

+++++++++++++++

HIS BOOK:

Born to Be Good: The Science of a Meaningful Life by Dacher Keltner

++++

The Evolution of Compassion

Dacher Keltner

University of California, Berkeley

++

Dacher Keltner
Professor
Ph.D., Stanford University

Campus Contact Information
Departmental Area(s): Social/Personality; Change, Plasticity &
Development;
Director: Berkeley Social Interaction Laboratory

Interests: Social/Personality: emotion; social interaction; individual
differences in emotion; conflict and negotiation; culture

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Well, this is enough thinking and research for one day!  I am not going on to read the following today!!  It has just always made perfect sense to me that something in a traumatized tiny developing body causes its immune system to respond – and triggers the vast array of changes that we see in severe infant-child abuse survivors.  I believe the answer lies along this track.

What happens to an infant’s physiological development when no one calms the crying baby?

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN PARENTS HIT AND TERRIFY THE BABY?  Immune systems changes to development through interaction with the vagus nerve, that’s what.

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Vagal activity, early growth and emotional development – Elsevier

by T Field – 2008 – Cited by 1Related articles
The vagus nerve is a key component in the regulation of the autonomic nervous system and Infant growth and development. Several studies have documented a ….. including the hypothalamic-pituitary–adrenal axis and the immune system

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Parental Meta-Emotion Philosophy and the Emotional Life of …

by JM Gottman – 1996 – Cited by 228Related articlesAll 5 versions
nerve. The tonic firing of the vagus nerve slows down many physiological processes, such as the …. a central part of the immune system that is …..

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Calm Sleeping Baby – Baby Massage

Relaxation and enhancement of neurological development. Massage provides both stimulation and relaxation for an infant, Massage stimulates a nerve in the brain, known as the vagus nerve. Strengthens the immune system. Massage causes a significant increase is Natural Killer Cell numbers.

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Tears – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Strong emotions, such as sorrow or elation, may lead to crying. lysozyme) fight against bacterial infection as a part of the immune system. A newborn infant has insufficient development of nervous control, so s/he “cries without weeping. of the facial nerve causes sufferers to shed tears while eating.

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TOUCH IN LABOR AND INFANCY: Clinical Implications

Increases in infants’ vagal activity during massage may lead to an increase As noted earlier, massage has been shown to increase activity of the vagus nerve, As in animal studies, massage has shown immunesystem benefits in humans. autonomic nervous system; a disturbance in the development of sleep-wake

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INFANT IN PAIN

Oct 29, 2009 Does your infant suffer from colic? Reflux? Projectile Vomiting? In her book, Molecules of Emotion,8 Dr Candice Pert (a recognized system interference are a hindrance to normal immune system function. Scientists are still discovering exactly how the immune and nerve systems interrelate.

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[PDF] Emotion

File Format: PDF/Adobe Acrobat – View as HTML
vagus nerve— a branch of the parasympathetic autonomic nervous system — may be involved in positive …. New research on the immune system suggests a biological …… Handbook of infant development

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[PDF] Phylogenetic origins of affective experiences: The neural …

File Format: PDF/Adobe Acrobat – Quick View
by SW Porges – Cited by 3Related articlesAll 3 versions
The healing power of emotion: Affective neuroscience, development ….. how the autonomic nervous system interacts with the immune system, nervous system. The vagus nerve exits the brain stem and has branches …… Porges SW, Doussard-Roosevelt JA, Portales AL, and Greenspan SI (1996) Infant regulation of the

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Evolution and Emotions

File Format: Microsoft Powerpoint – View as HTML
Neurological Development and the Limbic System. R-Hemi has closer connections to limbic system than L-Hemi. R-Hemi develops earlier in infancy than L-Hemi. Emotions appear in Stim vagus nerve, slows Heart 1 (H1). ….Effectiveness of the immune system; ability to ward off illness,

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The Brain and the Neuro-psycho-immune System – Anne Baring’s Website

When Cannon stimulated the vagus through electrodes implanted in the …. Emotions are in the digestive system, in the immune system, The nervous system consists of the brain and network of nerve cells We remember most the most vivid memories – this was probably of great help in evolutionary development,

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Vagus Nerve Is Direct Link From Brain To Immune System

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Deep Brain Stimulation … – Blogs – Revolution Health

which explains how the brain and the immune system are interconnected through the vagus nerve. “It turns out that the brain talks directly to the immune

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How the Dalai Lama can help you live to 120… « Terryorisms

Oct 5, 2006 … it is the way the immune system responds to the mind. Let me explain. You immune system is controlled by a nerve call the vagus nerve

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The Dana Foundation – Seeking the cause of deadly inflammation ….

May 3, 2007 And the vagus nerve story is progressing on multiple fronts, for device development, for understanding classical physiology, meditation, “Look, everybody knows that meditation is good for your immune system.

 

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Breakthrough “Neuro Nutrition” Targets the Brain and Vagus Nerve

Jul 6, 2008 … The Vagus Nerve is the body’s most powerful anti-inflammatory … the Vagus Nerve, has a direct ability to restore the human immune system

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NSLIJ – Scientists Figure Out How the Immune System and Brain …

When they stimulated the vagus nerve, a long nerve that goes from the base of Many laboratories at The Feinstein Institute study the immune system in

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Cholinergic anti-inflammatory pathway – Wikipedia, the free …

Kevin Tracey found that the vagus nerve provides the immune system with a direct connection to the brain. Tracey’s paper in the December 2002 issue of

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The vagus nerve, cytokines and depression

The vagus nerve mediates behavioural depression, but not fever, in response to peripheral immune The immune system, depression and antidepressants

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Article: Scientists figure out how the immune system and brain ….

Jul 21, 2008 Scientists figure out how the immune system and brain communicate When they stimulated the vagus nerve, a long nerve that goes from the ……..In a major step in understanding how the nervous system and the immune system Pain & Central Nervous System

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Brain ‘talks’ directly to body’s immune system – The Hindustan …

Brain ‘talks’ directly to body’s immune system – Report from the Asian News Pain & Central Nervous System Week, Vagus Nerve Stimulation Can Suppress

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FASCINATING IDEAS HERE — DOES THE VAGUS NERVE HELP ORGANIZE CONSCIOUSNESS AND THE SELF?

[PDF] Does vagus nerve constitute a self-organization complexity or a …

File Format: PDF/Adobe Acrobat
by B Mravec – 2006 – Cited by 3Related articles
nervous system modulates immune functions via vagus nerve (5, 6). from the immune system to the brain via the vagus nerve

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[PDF] Evidences for vagus nerve in maintenance of immune balance and …

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Brain ‘talks’ directly to body’s immune system

post: Nov 14, 2007

He discovered that the vagus nerve speaks directly to the immune system through a neurochemical called acetylcholine.

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Vagus Nerve Schwannoma: effects on internal organs?

I just gave a talk the vagus nerve and the immune system–the vagus nerve > probably plays a very important role in many important chemoregulatory

 

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BiomedExperts: The vagus nerve mediates behavioural depression ….

We propose that behavioural depression is mediated by the vagus nerve indicate that the recently proposed vagal link between the immune system and the

 

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MY MOTHER’S DREAM – March 29, 1960
The whole family was out walking and suddenly we looked up to see a dark rainbow appear – then it got bright and behind it a skyline appeared outlining massive dormed buildings such as I’ve never seen and skyscraper buildings – then it all disappeared and a big wind came.

We realized it was a hurricane. We could hardly stand up against the wind. We saw big apartment buildings on the sides of the streets but the entrances faced another street and we were on the wrong side. The wind grew stronger – finally a door appeared and we went in the building and the person asked us what was wrong? We told her of the great wind but as we pointed outside – all was silent and the wind was gone … and I awoke.

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Stop the Storm of the intergenerational transmission of unresolved trauma carried on through the maltreatment of little infant-children.  If we don’t do this, changes in development will continue to rob these children of their own life free from Trauma Altered Development.

If we don’t stop the trauma from happening on the outside, the tiny developing body will do everything in its power to stop its affects on the inside.  This is what happened to my mother.

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Don’t forget to check out — Brain Facts – A primer on the brain and nervous system

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AND LOOK FOR ‘YOU RATE IT’ STARS AT BOTTOM OF PAGE —

Please feel free to comment directly at the end of this post or on

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Your Page – Readers’ Responses

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+LIVING IN THE ACCEPTANCE ZONE: WAS THE REAL ME PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR?

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I question the whole 12-step requirement for ‘acceptance.’  I think we can accept ourselves into terribly destructive and unhappy situations, while we all the time blame ourselves if we DARE to whimper or question our lives.  In 1981 the antidepressants I was given (and took) just further erased Linda from the scene of my life.  I was quiet, complacent, and busy trying so hard to BE good and to DO good…..

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I have to say, never in the 10 years I’ve lived down here in the Arizona high desert right on the Mexico line have I ever heard such furious wind gusts as are appearing and disappearing around here tonight.  They come barreling through like they are on rails, intent on taking the house roof with them, and then they are — GONE — and an eerie silence fills my ears.  No big deal, I’m sure.  The power hasn’t even flickered.  I am SO GLAD I no longer live up north with those winters — like my kids in Fargo do!  In 1981 I just accepted living in a place with harsh and long winters — not any more!

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I had just turned 30 when this part of my journals were written in 1981-1982.  I post the writings here just in case there’s something from my “recovery” past that might be of use to someone going through the new stages — or even the later ones — of their own recovery.  There’s nothing spectacular here.  Just one woman, still young, living a humble life, trying to grow, always hoping…..but was I really even there?

My antidepressants have kicked in by this time, and I am zoning along doing what I (and everybody around me) thinks is best.  It really didn’t matter if I was REALLY there in the show or not!  Nobody, myself included, knew the difference.

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*Age 30 Journal – Sept. through Dec. 1981

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Excerpts:

September 7, 1981

Got in touch with a lot of pain and loneliness and realized on a deep level for the first time that is what my “wild” feeling is.”

I used to think about this feeling when it came over me as being like the wind — only a wind that blew right through the outline-shape of who I was in my body.  I knew I had felt it in Alaska, most remembered in the wilderness — hence my name for it, my “wild” feeling.

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Recovery in families often begins with one single person.  In my case, following my entry and completion of treatment both my husband and his cousin both began recovery for alcoholism.

In that process I entered treatment again out-patient as the spouse of Leo when he began his treatment.  Minnesota treatment models for addiction focus on it being a “family disease.”

I noted on October 1, 1981:

Afraid to look at myself.  I am self-centered to the max and would control everyone around me if I could and yet Lief [therapist] said tonight a lot of anger comes from me not being willing to take the risks I need to get my needs met.  I’m not sure I even know what my needs are.  Everything seems complicated – feels confusing.”

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October 24, 1981

Oh, and then there were the sex problems……never a good sign!

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November 17, 1981

Sometimes I feel as though I were haunted by things from my past.  Not as many as before, but just a general feeling like the “real me” is not all here.  Maybe it is the “real me” that haunts me, or the “ideal me” that will never be.”

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November 19, 1981

Spent an hour reading to the girls tonight and read old Raggedy Ann book from Mom’s and my childhood.  Also Kay saw film about menstruation in school today.  She felt good and so did I that she can talk with me.  She said she used to think her mom was mean because I wouldn’t let her go to the store, etc. but now she sees we can talk where many of her friends can’t talk to their moms.  Thank you God for helping and healing.

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I do not wish to leave the information contained in these links behind as I continue with my posting.  Please consider them for your study:

+FIGHTING MY MOTHER’S DARKNESS – BEING AFRAID OF MY OWN YOUNG ADULTHOOD LETTERS?

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For as long as this part of my project will take me, I am going to do something that is extremely difficult for me to face.  I have a collection here of a few of the letters my mother saved that I wrote to her in my adulthood before I disowned her.

I want to tear them up, throw them away, burn them to ashes.  I want to do anything but read them or to face them head on.  Yet, I think now about what my daughter told me the other night about my struggle in facing my mother’s letters she wrote in the years that I was in my teens.  She told me  that just because my struggle is so great there is probably something important I can learn by going ahead with my project.  Well, the struggle seems greatest when I am faced with myself in my own adult letters.

Am I this afraid of actually seeing the lies of my childhood continued into my adulthood?

Yes, I am.  I feel as I might should I be standing outside of a burning building ready to race inside to try to save myself, no matter what the cost.  I feel sick inside.  I fear there is sickness in these letters, and I will not only see it there, I will feel it here today in my own body as I re-read my own words.

It is one thing to take a hard, close look at my mother’s writing because they are ‘out there’, outside of me.  But my own words?  Do I have the courage to examine the extent that I bought the lies about Linda, the extent that I ate them, swallowed them, internalized them until I could not tell the difference between where my mother left off and I began?

What are my hopes?  What goodness do I think I might be able to gain by spending time with past self?  How much of my past self remains with me today?  Can I see what I hate and change it?  Is it an absolute, stupid and complete waste of time working with my own letters?  How do I see the process as being different from examining my mother, and my grandmother, through their letters?

What am I afraid to learn?  Do I have the courage, willingness and perseverance to find out?

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I suspect at this moment, before I step into this next unknown contained within my own letters, I am afraid that I will face within myself something that tells me that everything that happened to me in my childhood was all my fault and that I deserved it.  This fear is not reasonable.  This statement is not reasonable.  There was no REASON in my childhood.  That is what my mother’s severe mental illness was all about.

I fear I will see from my vantage point today how completely rotten and faulty the foundation of my self was, and therefore of my life was,  as I passed out from under the shadow of the roof of my parents’ home into my own dim adulthood future.  I bought the lies of my childhood because they were present with the first breath I ever took and I had no way of knowing this.  I was raised without being loved.  I was raised being told that I was evil, not human.  I was raised to believe that everything about me was wrong.  I did not leave those lies behind me.  They were built into me.  They became a part of me.

It was bad enough that what happened to me for 18 years at the hands of my mother ever happened to me at all.  But what feels worse to me is knowing that I carried it all within my body-brain-mind right out of my childhood with me — and I didn’t even know it.

It comes down to being raised and ‘built’ in a world of darkness.  My mother’s darkness was not my own, yet I had to find for myself a light that allowed me to survive her.  Her darkness was put onto me and into me, it surrounded me and permeated every aspect of my childhood from the time of my birth.  But from my side of the story it was a false darkness to me.  I didn’t know this.   I didn’t know the darkness came from my mother and not from me.

I didn’t know that in the insanity and abuse of my childhood I came to find and create my own false light to endure in false darkness.  I know this now because I can see that if someone had removed me from my mother’s care when I was born, there would have been no darkness for me to adjust to.  I wouldn’t have had to deal with any of it.  I would be a different person.

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I can’t explain this right now, I guess.  I can’t explain how the darkness of my mother’s mental illness robbed me of the light of love, hope, trust, safety and security that I needed in order to grow into my own strong, healthy, happy self.  Being robbed of this light forced me to come up with my own light, but it was a false a light because it was designed to fight my mother’s darkness, not my own.

I could not simply step out of my childhood and into my adulthood, into the ‘ordinary’ light of a benevolent world as if I had lived in it my entire life.  I had been formed in and by an entirely different, dark and malevolent world.  I did not have eyes that were designed to see in the bright light of ‘ordinary’ day.  My eyes were designed to see in a world of my mother’s pitch darkness.

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What will I see when I step into the world of my own early adulthood letters?  With whose eyes will I look at the world, in and with what light?  Whose darkness might be hiding in them?  Or, better yet, whose light?

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+MY 6-WEEK NEWBORN CHECKUP – THE MONSTER WAS BORN WHEN I WAS

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I just found this written on a single yellowed sheet of folded paper within my mother’s letters.  It is my mother’s report of my 6-week newborn checkup.   I noticed immediately that she mentioned her childhood play with dolls more than once in her writing here (see link below).   Knowing what I know now, the doll play of her childhood ended up being tied in with her psychosis — her dolls as her imaginary friends — her children as her doll friends until they got too old to be baby dolls any longer (so she had another, and another…) and me being the one that ended up being her imaginary enemy.

In this piece I don’t, of course, see her psychosis directly — but its presence is here.  It was tied into the comments I found in her letters she wrote when pregnant with her 5th child (see at: *CIRCUMSTANCES OF MY BIRTH) — and what I know from what she told me throughout my childhood.   Hidden within any ‘sweet words’ she wrote on this 1951 date are the seeds of disaster.

My mother never understood that her children were people, not objects, not projections from her mind, not her imaginary friends — and she never understood that I wasn’t her imaginary enemy.

I can also sense something — NOW — in reading this piece that I would not be able to pinpoint if I hadn’t just spent all the time I did transcribing the summer and fall 1960 letters my mother wrote, and the spring 1961 letters leading up to the birth of her 5th child in March of 1961.  In those writings, and in the ones beyond as he grows through his infancy, her writings are full of ‘her love’ for him (almost nauseatingly so).

Nowhere in this piece my mother wrote about 6-week old infant me does she say she loves me.  She doesn’t hint of it.  (see also in comparison:  *1960 (IN THE ACT) HOMESTEADING and +1961 – MOTHER’S WRITINGS)

In fact, I find it eerie, strange and chilling that on this day that she identifies as a ‘special’ day for me, she chooses not to write about me and her love for me, but rather chooses to place my 16-month old brother at the forefront of her interest.  In it she turns away from me,  leaving me out in the freezing cold already in this piece, placing her affection on my brother and not on newly born me.  She says that HE loves me.  She loves him that he loves me.  But she cannot bring herself, even here, to indicate any sign of affection for me.  This is never a good sign between a mother and her newborn.

I believe this happened because of the tragic circumstances of my breach birth.  I believe she lacked the ability, even at my age of 6 weeks, to accept me as her beloved and cherished daughter.  There is no sign she is bonded with me in this piece.  There is no sign of warmth toward me.  She was bonded with my brother — as much as she was capable of.  I believe the clock was ticking, the fuse was burning:  Her abuse of me was already in the wings because of her psychotic break that happened while she was birthing me.

She told me repeatedly not only during my childhood, but even over the telephone in a conversation I had with her when I was 30 that the devil sent me to kill her while I was being born.  She told me all during my childhood, and again in this same telephone conversation when I was 30 that because she survived birthing me, I was sent as a curse upon her life.

The shadow monster, I believe, was already present, already tangible and visible, had already reared its head and threatened to swallow me even at this very, very young age of 6 weeks.  In reality, someone should have taken me away from my mother right then, because the twisting of her mind had already begun and I was destined from the moment of my birth to be her chosen victim.

*1951 – October 15 – Linda’s 6-week Check-Up (and brother John)

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