I thought I’d be celebrating the new year tonight. My humble and obscure little web site hit 12,000 visitors yesterday ~ 2,400 of you in December. Wow! Thank you! I was ecstatic and hopeful that in 2010 I would finally cross the bridge from profound disability to financial self-sufficiency.
But, my mother had other plans. And, I have decided to break down my own walls of silence. I’m sure many of my astute visitors have figured out why I know so much about abuse and the dysfunctions of the system that is supposed to provide safety nets and protection from abuse.
My parents were perpetually citizens of the year ~ highly respected folks who were pillars of their church and community. They were teachers.
Nobody knew what went on behind closed doors. A psychiatrist here in Seattle who has been evaluating mentally disabled people for decades told me several years ago that my history of child abuse and parental neglect was the worst he’d taken. I was stunned. I had been operating under the delusion that my childhood had been fairly idyllic.
He set me straight. He ticked off all the medical attention I should have gotten but didn’t. He told me how multiple untreated concussions can ultimately make it impossible for us to function. It was a very bitter pill to swallow. I wanted to think highly of my parents. I wanted to believe that they loved me and cared about my welfare. I held out hope that one day they might come to love their unplanned and unwelcome child. My father passed away a few years ago never giving me his blessing. He was proud of this accomplishment.
On the anniversary of the day I gave the keynote address at a Fortune 200 company’s international human resources conference, I was told by the unemployment office that I was too profoundly disabled to function in the workplace. I was devastated. I worked very, very hard to recover from Complex PTSD and depression. I relentlessly ferreted out resources and read everything I could find that might help me craft a viable bridge from disability to financial self-sufficiency.
But, I started to notice a consistent pattern. Each time I was about to fly, my mother sabotaged my success. She did it again today. I have a horrid feeling that I won’t recover from this setback. I have a horrid feeling that I will be “warehoused” by the system ~ placed in a crappy apartment and filled with enough pills that I will no longer be congnizant of the fact that I have no chance at ever being financially self-sufficient.
Washington’s Department of Vocational Rehabilitation noticed the same pattern, told me my case was hopeless, and tossed me to the curb. I have been working valiantly for the past few years to prove them wrong. But, they were able to see what I didn’t want to admit: my mother would continue to sabotage me until she finished me off. That’s what narcissists do.
This afternoon I was told that she’s quite concerned about what will happen to my possessions, but she was not remotely interested in what will happen to me. I got the distinct impression that she might possibly be gleeful at the prospect of my becoming a bag lady. And, I suspect my “family” is planning on bringing a truck out here to collect my stuff as the sheriff hauls it out the door.
I believe very strongly that we must all live in nurturing environments if we are to thrive. I have worked very hard with my limited resources to leverage them as creatively and cleverly as possible.
My dear friend Elena Hanajenko took these photos of my home when we celebrated our birthdays together a couple of weeks ago. I thought I would share with you, dear readers, the love and warmth and joy we felt that night. I am so blessed that she opted to record our evening. Tonight I can invite you in for a visit while I still have a home.
Tonight I am wishing all of you, dear readers, a very happy new year that is abundantly blessed.
If anybody has a solid suggestion, kindly leave a comment. I’ve been getting creamed by social service agencies since September and feel very much at the end of my rope. Yes, I know. Put a knot in it and swing.
It seems that absent a crisis they don’t act. Please pray for me, folks.
Thanks everybody for visiting this humble and obscure little site. It has been a tremendous joy to write this blog and know that sometimes my experiences and expertise have helped some of y’all.