It's a period that has always been a bit confusing in my mind related to a lot of switches between dissociative parts.
This period plunges me a lot into "flashbacks", not really happy memories of Christmas ...
The guru of the sect in which I grew up often came on this occasion and took the opportunity to rape me. It was a time when I felt really alone, invisible, abandoned in the midst of many people. During these festivals, the houses of the sect filled up and we celebrated the festivals by being very numerous.
And we were allowed to go to our family to see our grandparents between Christmas and New Years. It put my parents in a state of anxiety. I felt they were on the defensive. We were going into "enemy territory" ... We were all on the defensive, especially vis-à-vis my family on the paternal side. My paternal grandparents were "rich", they liked good food, had a beautiful house with a garden, my uncles and aunts had a "situation", a glorious job, had a great education and therefore had "succeeded in life" in the sense given by society. We were coming against the tide in this atmosphere. We were the black sheep, the strange family members ... I was suspicious of them. They were everything the cult and my father called "evil" and evil. Living in opulence was a sign of selfishness, they did not care about the poor ... They did not "give their life" unlike us, they did not sacrifice themselves for others, they thought of them, only of them ... They were evil.
My mother had a painful affair with them. Divorced-remarried, she was the one who made my father the one who left his first wife and abandoned his first 4 children. In their presence, she was embarrassed, shy, uncomfortable. So I got on the defensive in their presence, I sought to protect my mother, I didn't understand the underlying conflicts, I just felt the pervasive tension between the adults. It was them against us, the bad against the righteous.
My cousins had a lot of things, nice rooms, nice toys ... I was very jealous of them. We felt so out of step with them! They had television, hobbies ... so much that we didn't understand.
My father was in constant conflict with them. Whether with his parents or his brother, my uncle priest. He spent his time criticizing them, insulting them, belittling them ... according to his words, they belittled him, they didn't like him, they refused our choice of life ...
Everything had been done so that I never had enough confidence to confide in them.
The family on my mother's side, on the other hand, was tolerated. My grandmother was a simple woman, with no major education, having kept cows in her teenage years. She lived in public housing with her daughter, my mother's sister who is disabled. It was more like a life that we could accept and tolerate in the Manichean view that was instilled in us. On the side of my mother's family, there were few men. So I felt more secure there. My father belittled them and didn't like going too much. For him, my grandmother was a little simple-minded but kind woman. Not a threat unlike members of his family who did not hesitate to criticize his words and question his word, to answer him and stand up to him even if he exploded and got angry. My maternal grandmother, she gave little or no response and listened to her statements religiously, nodding, if my father got angry, she behaved exactly the same as my mother, she was silent and complied. His behavior, his search for non-conflict was for me habitual and calming in a way. We were on "known ground". The atmosphere was therefore much more relaxed and I felt confident. With my maternal grandmother, I was more in fashion, us against my father and his temper tantrums. As in the sect ... We knew how to react, my mother was relaxed. I could finally let go of the guard and enjoy an environment in which I felt safe without conflicts of loyalty, without tensions ...
In the sect, we were therefore entitled to a few days between Christmas and New Year and two weeks of summer vacation. We had the obligation to be present during "highlights" such as Christmas, Easter ... all religious holidays. In order for us to visit our family, my parents had to ask permission from the cult leaders. This permission was a factor of many things ... It was a means of pressure and reward or punishment by the guru and his wife. We had the official right to stay in touch with the "outside world" and our family, but only if we were good little ones members of the sect and if our family accepted our choice, donated money for our works and the sect and came to visit us without criticizing. Otherwise, the link was bad for us and we had to cut it by order and pressure from the guru and the cult members.
Currently, I still replay these conflicts a lot internally. It is very difficult for me to quit my job to take a few days of family vacation. Just like in the sect, I have the impression of betraying my commitments, putting my needs before those which seem vital. Being someone selfish in front of my boyfriend and boss who continues to work and does not take time off.
Added to this are my internal conflicts vis-à-vis my mother. I love her, she is affectionate, she is a wonderful grandmother to my daughters. But as soon as I have to go there for my daughters to spend holidays there, for example, I am invaded by very strong internal conflicts. I can not make up my mind, for several days, I am unable to fix my day of departure on the trip. Most of the time, it's at the last moment that I manage to hit the road, procrastinating for hours before. I pack my bags quickly, having failed to pack them before. When I arrive at her place, I am overcome with anger, I want to yell at her. I am invaded by painful memories, a very strong feeling of injustice that I want to scream. I am suffocating, I have the impression of being trapped. In my head it screams constantly, I hear crying ... I have to use a lot of energy to block my dissociative parts, to control everything. It is unbearable, very painful and exhausting! I have the impression of being pierced with a needle, tortured live.
Not to say and explode, I switch in a part which is exhausted and only seeks one thing: to sleep. Sleep to escape these feelings and no longer experience anything painful. If I sleep, there is no conflict. I don't say anything to my mother. Everything is fine. We are a perfect family, my daughters are happy, they are pampered by their grandmother.
Very quickly, I want to run away and start again. It screams in my head, "I can't take it anymore, I'm choking, you have to go, run away, quickly !!!!". I then prepare my things to make my trip home alone.
I feel relieved. My daughters are doing well. They are safe. They are going to receive a lot of love, they are doing well. I can not. I don't have the right.
When I leave, I start to hear dissociative parts crying. They would like so much to stay, so much to be able to enjoy them too. Why can't we too?
All the way home, parts are crying and I feel guilty. Why do I feel this anger against my mother? Why can't I just enjoy? Why can't I forgive him? She's a good mother, I love her. She gave me love, she gives it to my daughters ... Why isn't that enough? I am torn between reproach, anger and loyalty, recognition, affection and love.
I feel like I'm just that right now. A fucking weather vane who doesn't know what she wants, what she is thinking, what she is feeling ...
I hate this holiday season.
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