Unworthy – Page 4 – Just Pondering…

Small Doses

May 25, 2020May 25, 2020ponderingmissylouLeave a comment

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Today, I was expecting nothing but a nice quiet day or at least most of the day in my home. Even though it is Memorial Day, my husband goes to play golf, no family was coming over so just a low-key day. It was short lived, guess it was too hot and understandably so. I tend to get more done when he is out of the house. There is a freedom, not a draining, boring, no laughter kind of day. Sad, isn’t it that I feel that way?

Yesterday, we spent the day in our son’s back yard to cut limbs and clean up so he can enjoy the property of his house rental. I love his back yard and during this pandemic of quarantine, we did not make trips, which is only an hour away. He did a lot on his own, which has been good for him and we just helped push him forward a little faster. It was a good, hot day to do this and it was nice to get away

Many times when we have days like this together, I have to bring things back down to existence between me and him. Existence of just married, basically a business partnership. For the most part, it works, financially, why not.

If I could live with previous years when it was so bad, really bad, I can deal with it now, as I continue to get clarity and get stronger within myself and put boundaries in place. Those days, as in yesterday, being together kinda sorta in a big yard, it seems he thinks we are a happily married couple. He will tell his parents or his chiropractor usually of what we did, putting a spin on what fun ‘we’ had. Over and over again I see this routine. Denial runs in his family so this just ranks right up there.

The next day or week, he will say with such a sweet, soft and sickening voice, which is do you want to do this, want to go here or there, etc. No. No thank you. The same tone when he talked to our dog. This has been learned way to speak in order to relate to others, whether it be others, me or the dog. I feel mean when I say no thank you but, no. I can only handle him in small doses and yesterday that dosage was an overdose, and I must set my boundaries. You do your thing and I will do mine and we are both happy.

Now you are probably thinking, but he asked if you wanted to do this or that and was so nice. I have had that said to me more than once, because they do not understand what I am dealing with or have dealt with. Yes he was nice, and I was nice and said no thank you. To turn him down, you are probably thinking I am just a mean old witch. Have you walked in my shoes? Have you felt emotionally ignored in a marriage? There is more than shopping or hearing his intellectual murmurings of whatever is of interest to him that would make one bang their head on a brick wall. There is no connection, no emotional support, no real marriage. It is just an existence of two people under one roof, thankfully space between us.

If you have read any of my writings, I have mentioned Aspergers. After years and years of not knowing what was wrong, taking it all upon myself that it was me. He is the intelligent one, and he will tell you just that, so it must be me, I’m stupid. He will walk away from an issue that needs both of our attention and I need his input. He hears my tone getting a bit higher because he has ignored previous attempts, so he walks away. So again it’s me, my fault. If I make a wrong decision, it’s my fault, which is too much pressure. To see him look at other women, I am not pretty or sexy enough. To call him out on it and each time deny although I watched this play out a million times, same result. So it must be me, I am seeing things, making it up, feeling like I am crazy. Shall I go on? Too fat, ugly, fat and depressed will add just several more areas dealt with. Years and years of this, it does makes one feel crazy.

Had it not been for my former counselor in 2014 to recognize what I was expressing, I really do not know where I would be today. Twenty-five years of not knowing and feeling the craziness can take a toll on a person’s emotional, physical, mental and spiritual life. You just exist from day to day with no joy.

Sadly, this is very typical in marriages when one has Aspergers and the spouse is a neurotypical. It is a crazy-making life.

So if a friend or family member confides in you, needing to vent and need you to hear them, listen. If any of this sounds familiar, don’t just say it is married life, it will get better, etc. Just maybe, this is Aspergers.

Too much time together, is too much time together.

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Hand Me Down

May 7, 2020May 9, 2020ponderingmissylouLeave a comment

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Through the years I have encouraged many to have pictures taken of their hand upon their loved ones hand and even vice versa. It will be a treasure the rest of your life, at the ending of theirs.

While I have encouraged many, I did not do it myself. The cell phones we have today with cameras were not as popular or even available back in 1996, although not for certain, knowing I did not have one.

My hands now are my mother’s hands. I never realized this until my niece grabbed my hands at the dinner table, many years ago and was in awe saying, “You have Grandma’s hands.” I do and even her swollen, aching knuckles she complained about of which I don’t care for, but thankfully just two on each hand and that is enough.

As Mother’s Day approaches this weekend, I tend to get somewhat melancholy. Wondering will my boys remember me, do they think I was a good enough mother, etc. On the other side, being a daughter, I found this date to be awkward.

My mother will always be my mom, of course, but all throughout my childhood to adulthood, we never had the mother-daughter relationship. I found myself yearning for motherly love from other mother figures and felt free to share my thoughts, touch their hand and hug. Never understanding why I felt guarded with my own mother. I know she loved me, I was her daughter. I loved her, she was my mother. It was just the acceptance of love that existed but not freely shown or spoken. What a disappointment in life.

As a family, there were many fun times, mostly with beer, at our house with many around, when I was a child. Later, it became less people in our house, as my siblings moved on with their lives. I was a late baby so I am still home. Due to work of both parents back then, the house was quiet, more seriousness, sometimes verbal bickering and I sensed jealousy, which became the norm. On top of this, I watched my dad drink heavily and then it flipped-flopped, like overnight, and mom took over the role of an alcoholic.

Understanding and realizing what I endured, I am an adult child of alcoholics with childhood emotional neglect. It all makes sense even though, so sad. Reading lately about Complex PTSD (C-PTSD), a book by Pete Walker, that can be thrown in the mix, too. In research, I have found that each of these intertwine. Since 2014, my eyes have been opened to so many things of my past and present, hopefully in recognizing and changing of my future.

My mom passed away in January, 1996. My marriage was unsettled, feeling it was all my fault. I was dealing with our young children, watching other children, tending to my father four times a day with a feeding tube, his house, our house, finances, life insurance with mom, etc., all the way down to taking out the garbage. There was no time to grieve.

It was when I stood in the grocery store, in the aisle with greeting cards and looked at Mother’s Day cards knowing I did not need to get one that year. Through the years, I would read and put back many cards as they read of the closeness and the mushy stuff between a mother and a daughter, which I never had. I just needed one to be straightforward, Happy Mother’s Day, signing my name possibly noted, with love. Standing there looking at the cards, I could not get out of the store quick enough, the grief and sadness of it all took me by surprise that day. Still, each time as I stand in the card aisle looking for just the right card to give to someone, I always remember that moment. Those silly Hallmark cards, they get me all the time. Sometimes thinking that the intercom will come on announcing, cleanup in the card aisle, a lady is crying a river.

The love was present, just knowing, and I was taken care of in the physical sense with clean clothes, nice house, etc. The outside looked fine and I learned early on how to wear and adjust my mask to appear happy, when the inside of me there was always a little girl crying out for love and attention.

While in 2014, walking in the counselor’s office about a different matter, which we discussed and I understood, it was when she said, “Now, let’s deal with you.”

While this was a surprise to me, it was not to the Lord. I have no doubt that He prepared this counselor for this time and place in my life. All through my life, I yearned for motherly hugs, never knowing why and it bothered me. It made me feel like I could not show love or receive love from my own mother (family), always coming up with the ‘what is wrong with me’ mentality. Shame had taken hold of me early on as a child, building year by year, basically stomping me down over and over of the unworthiness and feeling unlovable.

Today, meaning this time in my life, understanding the ramifications of areas mentioned, it helps me to know the whys and not question, to notice the shame as it tries to attach itself to me. I never thought I would ever get over the screams within for the hugs needed, but I have. At times wondering if I had put walls up, so that I would not be hurt again of not needing those motherly hugs, but it was and has been different. Understanding brings healing to the broken places within that the Lord knew I needed mending, and she helped me to find clarity.

Thankfully, the counselor knew me well enough in those four years, that she could probably hear the screams within or see in my eyes, oftentimes me saying in reluctance and embarrassment, Please Hug Me!

I love not having the deep yearning for love and acceptance of others. I can leave one that was or is like a mother figure, or perhaps maybe we do hug, but not feel the deep torment of the love and care needed in the loneliness felt, as I walk away. To accept myself, to care, to love, to know and that I am lovable, there is a freedom and a healing that I have never, ever experienced. 549D22D1-1FC2-4533-9AB0-889B7B9E4E9F

Mother’s Day brings many emotions for my own mom, those fill-in mothers in my life and for myself, as a mom.

Happy mother's day - brush calligraphy greeting. Vector illustration. Happy Mother’s Day to each of you as a mom. If you are a son or a daughter, and your mother is living, you need to contact her. If she has passed, you can still whisper or say, Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Mom’s everywhere need to know they are not forgotten on this day.

This has been an emotional blog for me to write, as I have missed out on so many levels of love. Even though, the tears flow and I stop to mourn the loss between words, there is a joy within, as I am not the same person. As I look at my hands, my mother’s hands, they can hug that little girl within and bring comfort to the lack of love known so well, with the screams silenced, and healing to my mending heart day by day.

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Sadly, I do not know what this is like between a mother and a daughter. What a great loss… for me but for mom, too.

C-PTSD http://www.pete-walker.com/

ACD https://adultchildren.org/

CEN https://drjonicewebb.com/

Peg Streep https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/tech-support/201304/daughters-unloving-mothers-7-common-wounds

Don’t Tell Me What To Do!

April 15, 2020April 16, 2020ponderingmissylouLeave a comment

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So often through the years, I have found I really get frustrated with my pastor. Yes you read that correctly, but I do. Recently, no different. Apparently, he gets frustrated with the congregation, and me being one. While I understand him and know he is trying to help me and each one of us, I feel he is hollering at me. I don’t know what others think or feel, I don’t dare ask. He probably is frustrated and that is how he wants it to come across but it really makes me cringe and feel less than of a Christian. While that may motivate others, it causes me to stop dead in my tracks, doubt and be cautious.

As I have pondered this over the years, I still come up with this no-good-for-nothing person, Christian that I claim I am. It makes me sink into a state of unworthiness. I hate this feeling. Questioning if this is condemnation he is placing on us (me) and if so, that is wrong. Or is it condemnation that I am throwing on myself? Does this trigger a part of my childhood I wonder and no doubt it does.

I know he preaches his heart out and is anointed but in this area, I think to myself, here he goes again. Knowing full well that I will have to fight my thoughts of being less than and I will go down the rabbit hole yet again. Whether I sit in the congregation or now as we listen online due to the distancing required.

I know to pray, I know that the Lord hears my prayers whether in my thoughts, silently or verbally. Had it not been, I would not be here, right now. At times, all I could muster up was, Lord help me. My heart being in such despair and nobody to turn to or trust, He was all that I had. He was all that I needed. Even though I felt alone in the thick of it all, and even felt at times He was nowhere to be found. Although, I know now that my faith grew in those dark, lonely periods, it had to in order to survive. 0FD531CE-BD59-4ABF-ABAD-8C1A98FCCA71

I did not have to yell from the rooftops, make a big, elaborate prayer of words that was not me for the Lord to hear my prayers. I am just plain and simple.

We are to praise and worship the Lord and I know that but that also gets heaped into his rants along with prayer. The comment of us sitting like a lump on a log, usually makes my mouth twist and jaws clinch, now in total frustration. I am not him, will never be him and I do not want to fake my prayer, praise and worship.

As I was cleaning, still pondering this in my mind, realizing that this is a childhood issue that I need to come to terms with. The boldness from his voice at the podium, finger pointing and to say lump on a log, smacks me. To bring it home to understand and to grasp, I feel he is mad and hollering at me, his finger pointing confirms I am unworthy, to say sitting like a lump on the log is that I am also lazy. End result, convinced I am a good-for-nothing person on the face of the earth or in my family, now church family as a Christian.

77EC128B-21E8-4CAB-BA93-B042464BA8F6 In a church service or in our private time, we worship and praise the Lord to usher in His Presence. His Presence is precious and I am fully aware of Him during such times. I do not have to put on a full production of waving my hands, shouting praises and being something I am not. If I do all of that and I have tried but that is my time between me and the Lord. I can stand or sit quietly and feel His presence all over me with tears flowing down my face, dropping from my chin in my worship, praise and prayer. This is my personal time with Him. I don’t need to care what others think or expect of me, although at times I do and accustomed to, which has always held me back.

At times, wanting to speak up and say stop making me feel unworthy and that I will never measure up. I have had that all my life. Is this the rebelliousness within me of my hesitancy, perhaps fear, too. Probably as I dig my heels in and protest as a child saying, you can’t make me and don’t tell me what to do.

Do I know it could be pride on my part? Yes, and intimidation but please don’t add to it and plop on more fear, as I will freeze in my tracks. I have had to wonder if this was conviction, but it is not the same.

So as I toss this back and forth the past few weeks due to the COVID19 situation and the seriousness of it all, the finger pointing and preaching returns, of saying do this, do that. Again, I get it, I really do, but each time, I still get that unworthy feeling. I know, too, that the enemy wants me, us all to feel the unworthiness and to remain stuck. Am I going to act and put on a show just to please the preacher? No. Will I still get frustrated with him when he pushes this down our throat once again? Yes. I do understand he is trying to help us grow in the Lord but it is a big turn off for me. I love my church, my pastor and the anointing. I have considered finding another church at times, which may or may not be any better. I know that the enemy antagonizes me and I realize this could be a ploy to separate me from the church. So with that, something is about to break, a battle within. I have been at this church since 1985 so change is hard, too. This is when I need to be rebellious and stubborn, not with the Pastor or even with myself but the enemy wanting to halt my praise, worship and prayer.

I learned while in counseling, it was when I wanted to quit, throw up my hands and many times when leaving and once in my car, saying that I am not doing this anymore. The next week I would return. Thank God I did return because it was in those sessions we broke through some areas that changed me. I saw the pattern as I do now so I will dig my heels in and protest.

Could this all be the shame I have had dumped on me throughout my life? Absolutely, it falls right in line.

Up until the Fall of 2014 and for years later in counseling, I really never knew of shame. Never gave it any thought but as each session occurred, it was obvious that shame had hindered me in life, all of my life, which is sad. Since I now have a word and an understanding, changes and healing can occur as I have gone and go forward.

As I write, I tend to believe all of this frustration with the preacher to make me feel less than, unworthy, etc., is all but shame that I have carried. My issue, not his.

Knowing and understanding this, perhaps praying, praise and worship will come easier for me. Still, I know the Lord meets us where we are and He is the one to direct us and help us in areas to get us to where we need to be. To be a willing vessel, He will do just that. I do not need to put on an air to appease the preacher or anyone around me. The Lord is all that matters and my relationship with Him. To acknowledge how this has affected me, I do not need to accept the feelings of unworthiness. I am worthy!