Where I really came from

[Guest guest]

> Maybe it doesn't even matter, tho. If I were to

> tell any of them where I really came from, they

> probably wouldn't believe me anyway.

I am an extraterrestrial, but people don't believe it. The

Interplanetary Authority for Infiltration and Invasion made an

unfortunate choice in the human family they chose to place me in.

One of my most important missions is to find out how much we can do

right under the nose of humans without their believing it, and I have

been helpful to my people in that way.

- Dan

[Guest guest]

>>they probably wouldn't believe me anyway....

I am an extraterrestrial, but people don't believe it. The

Interplanetary Authority for Infiltration and Invasion made an

unfortunate choice in the human family they chose to place me in.

One of my most important missions is to find out how much we can do

right under the nose of humans without their believing it, and I have

been helpful to my people in that way.

- Dan

HA HA GOOD ONE! I always believed in Spooky stuff...;-)

~d.

[Guest guest]

Someone wrote:

>>Maybe it doesn't even matter, tho. If I were to

>>tell any of them where I really came from, they

>>probably wouldn't believe me anyway.

And Dan wrote:

> I am an extraterrestrial, but people don't believe it. The

> Interplanetary Authority for Infiltration and Invasion made an

> unfortunate choice in the human family they chose to place me in.

> One of my most important missions is to find out how much we can do

> right under the nose of humans without their believing it, and I have

> been helpful to my people in that way.

Ahhh, yes. I sure can relate. I spent most of my life feeling like I was

from SomeWhereElse. An alien, a feral child. Its good to take a backward

look once in awhile. Below is one of my first posts to Randi's original

WelcomeToOz list in June of 1996 that I'd like to share. My screen name

at that time was Wonderrkid.

- Edith

Manager / WTO Lists

<<

Date: Tue, 25 Jun 1996 01:18:30 -0400

From: WonderrKid@...

Subject: ... a " stranger " in a strange land ...

To: nonbp-l@...

X-Listname: Non-Borderline

As a child growing up as *the* caretaker of my narcissistic mother with

BPD, I never saw movies, had friends or entered their homes. I lived in

'another' world. I never learned about normal human family interactions.

Since moving away from that environment at the age of 18, I've been a

" people watcher " and have been *continuously* amazed by people -- what

they are " into " and what they consider to be *important*. Now, at

'sixty-something', I live alone. How refreshing after living

sequentially with two BPD/NPDs. I also prefer to spend my time alone

rather than with " friends " as I don't have to remember how people expect

me to act, think or feel about what they " do " or about their acquired

" possessions. " Some of the games that people play are referred to in

textbooks as " social skills. " With my background, I had little

opportunity to learn them and, now, they are no longer that important to

me. In more recent years, I lost all my money (life savings) because

someone played a " game " on me -- just as he had previously done to

several others. We were going to help the homeless, the destitute, and

the downtrodden. I trusted him too much and he " got " me right in my soft

spot -- my *heart* -- because I'd already walked in their shoes.

My BPD spouse was important in my life because he had lived in the

mainstream -- I thought he was brilliant, knowing all about social

skills. He was 8 years older than I and a " real " father figure. We (my

kids and I) never had any say about what we could eat, etc. For example,

the time he told me that oranges were getting too expensive so I

shouldn't eat them anymore. I had loved oranges but gave them up for

financial reasons. The consequences of that, later, was that I developed

scurvy! I used my evening time while he worked or watched TV as *quality

time* for being with my kids. I hummed and rocked them to sleep as

infants, and as they grew older we invented " Once upon a time... "

stories that stretched their imaginations and drew peels of laughter. I

never knew what *I* was missing during those years of marriage because I

had no expectations from a previous family life. For me, my kids came

*first* -- beyond that I was either working or attending classes and

studying.

The " real " SOs in my life prior to the age of 18 were animals -- dogs,

cats, chickens, ducks. Through my " animal family " I learned

responsibility -- they had to be fed, watered, etc. I took care of them

and they were there to absorb my pain and tears when the adult/s made my

life *difficult*. I remember the time that I accused my father of murder

and cannibalism when he killed one of my " pet " chickens for dinner.

After that I had to make the distinction between my chicken " friends "

and the other " edible " chickens, when caring to them -- and made an

agreement with my father: My chicken " friends " were to be allowed to die

of old age. That way I would never invest *emotionally* in the " other "

chickens which would eventually be eaten. My cats were always

independent but available. My dogs, however, would lick my tears away

along with the snot off my nose while *absorbing* my pain. They *loved*

me. They were *always* empathetic and available for hugging. They gave

me *unconditional love* and they taught me about birth, and death, and

everything that goes on between.

Walt Whitman understood it when he wrote:

I think I could turn and live with animals,

They are so placid and self-contain'd,

I stand and look at them long and long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,

They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,

They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,

Not one is dissatisfied,

Not one is demented with the mania of owning things,

Not one kneels to another,

Nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,

Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

My *other* love is/was classical music. I had a radio that I was allowed

to keep in the bedroom that my sister and I shared. It was one of my few

possessions. Classical music was the only thing mother didn't object to

my listening to on the radio. I think that classical music served to

" ground " and " soothe " me. I'm gifted musically but was always denied a

musical instrument and lessons. As a child, when we went to the

g'parents house I was never allowed to play on their piano because we

only went there on Sundays. Sunday was the " Lord's Day " . The only two

things we were allowed to do on the Lord's Day was either (1) sit on the

sofa, or (2) practice penmanship. Everyone still comments on how

*beautiful* my penmanship is and I've learned to say, " Thank you " and

smile and let it go. The sofa was across the room from the piano and,

because I couldn't play it, I would practice in my head. Later I learned

to pick the lock on the main door of the grade school we attended, on

days that school was closed. My sister would stand guard while I

practiced on the piano in the basement.

When I was recovering from rheumatic fever at 16, mother gave me $10.

After I recovered, I started looking for a musical instrument that I

could buy for $10. The only thing I could find for that price was a

violin. I plucked on it and dreamed over it and probably drove her

" crazy " until she finally gave me the money for a bow and case, and she

paid for violin lessons until I was 18. I practiced, practiced, and

practiced and entered the university with a scholarship in music. My

parents gave me no financial support after I moved out. I played in

orchestras and symphonies and taught music privately until, at age 35, I

completed my Master's degree in another field and was hired into my

present profession.

I have always been pragmatic -- I drive a pickup truck (its dependable),

wear tennis shoes to work (comfort is important), and am otherwise clean

and acceptably dressed (I always wear slacks and sport tops -- nothing

feminine!).

Raising my kids was easy. My *heart* told me how to do that. I just had

to protect their rights to a future of *their* choosing. My education is

an ongoing process. I bought my first motorcycle on my 50th birthday (my

son's comment: Mom, those things are dangerous! " ). I learned how to

" hug " another adult human at the age of 60 (other than my kids, who will

always just be " my kids " ). I was taught how to hug by a prostitute I

happened to talk to who thought that it was hilarious that I didn't know

how to hug adults. Hey, I learned from an expert! *Everyone* has

something to teach me....

I was a *feral* child and all of life is " catch up " time.

Peace and Compassion

WonderrKid

>>

[Guest guest]

and now edith, you are a lamplight for others, what a fabulous progression. I

have learned proper emotional behavior for animals too. my dogs have protected

me like my nada didn't, love is not something that you have to earn or negotiate

for, it's just something that you stop and do. congratulations to you for

bravely moving forward in your journey. can't wait to meet you, tiki

... a " stranger " in a strange land ...

To: nonbp-l@...

X-Listname: Non-Borderline

As a child growing up as *the* caretaker of my narcissistic mother with

BPD, I never saw movies, had friends or entered their homes. I lived in

'another' world. I never learned about normal human family interactions.

Since moving away from that environment at the age of 18, I've been a

" people watcher " and have been *continuously* amazed by people -- what

they are " into " and what they consider to be *important*. Now, at

'sixty-something', I live alone. How refreshing after living

sequentially with two BPD/NPDs. I also prefer to spend my time alone

rather than with " friends " as I don't have to remember how people expect

me to act, think or feel about what they " do " or about their acquired

" possessions. " Some of the games that people play are referred to in

textbooks as " social skills. " With my background, I had little

opportunity to learn them and, now, they are no longer that important to

me. In more recent years, I lost all my money (life savings) because

someone played a " game " on me -- just as he had previously done to

several others. We were going to help the homeless, the destitute, and

the downtrodden. I trusted him too much and he " got " me right in my soft

spot -- my *heart* -- because I'd already walked in their shoes.

My BPD spouse was important in my life because he had lived in the

mainstream -- I thought he was brilliant, knowing all about social

skills. He was 8 years older than I and a " real " father figure. We (my

kids and I) never had any say about what we could eat, etc. For example,

the time he told me that oranges were getting too expensive so I

shouldn't eat them anymore. I had loved oranges but gave them up for

financial reasons. The consequences of that, later, was that I developed

scurvy! I used my evening time while he worked or watched TV as *quality

time* for being with my kids. I hummed and rocked them to sleep as

infants, and as they grew older we invented " Once upon a time... "

stories that stretched their imaginations and drew peels of laughter. I

never knew what *I* was missing during those years of marriage because I

had no expectations from a previous family life. For me, my kids came

*first* -- beyond that I was either working or attending classes and

studying.

The " real " SOs in my life prior to the age of 18 were animals -- dogs,

cats, chickens, ducks. Through my " animal family " I learned

responsibility -- they had to be fed, watered, etc. I took care of them

and they were there to absorb my pain and tears when the adult/s made my

life *difficult*. I remember the time that I accused my father of murder

and cannibalism when he killed one of my " pet " chickens for dinner.

After that I had to make the distinction between my chicken " friends "

and the other " edible " chickens, when caring to them -- and made an

agreement with my father: My chicken " friends " were to be allowed to die

of old age. That way I would never invest *emotionally* in the " other "

chickens which would eventually be eaten. My cats were always

independent but available. My dogs, however, would lick my tears away

along with the snot off my nose while *absorbing* my pain. They *loved*

me. They were *always* empathetic and available for hugging. They gave

me *unconditional love* and they taught me about birth, and death, and

everything that goes on between.

Walt Whitman understood it when he wrote:

I think I could turn and live with animals,

They are so placid and self-contain'd,

I stand and look at them long and long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,

They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,

They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,

Not one is dissatisfied,

Not one is demented with the mania of owning things,

Not one kneels to another,

Nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,

Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

My *other* love is/was classical music. I had a radio that I was allowed

to keep in the bedroom that my sister and I shared. It was one of my few

possessions. Classical music was the only thing mother didn't object to

my listening to on the radio. I think that classical music served to

" ground " and " soothe " me. I'm gifted musically but was always denied a

musical instrument and lessons. As a child, when we went to the

g'parents house I was never allowed to play on their piano because we

only went there on Sundays. Sunday was the " Lord's Day " . The only two

things we were allowed to do on the Lord's Day was either (1) sit on the

sofa, or (2) practice penmanship. Everyone still comments on how

*beautiful* my penmanship is and I've learned to say, " Thank you " and

smile and let it go. The sofa was across the room from the piano and,

because I couldn't play it, I would practice in my head. Later I learned

to pick the lock on the main door of the grade school we attended, on

days that school was closed. My sister would stand guard while I

practiced on the piano in the basement.

When I was recovering from rheumatic fever at 16, mother gave me $10.

After I recovered, I started looking for a musical instrument that I

could buy for $10. The only thing I could find for that price was a

violin. I plucked on it and dreamed over it and probably drove her

" crazy " until she finally gave me the money for a bow and case, and she

paid for violin lessons until I was 18. I practiced, practiced, and

practiced and entered the university with a scholarship in music. My

parents gave me no financial support after I moved out. I played in

orchestras and symphonies and taught music privately until, at age 35, I

completed my Master's degree in another field and was hired into my

present profession.

I have always been pragmatic -- I drive a pickup truck (its dependable),

wear tennis shoes to work (comfort is important), and am otherwise clean

and acceptably dressed (I always wear slacks and sport tops -- nothing

feminine!).

Raising my kids was easy. My *heart* told me how to do that. I just had

to protect their rights to a future of *their* choosing. My education is

an ongoing process. I bought my first motorcycle on my 50th birthday (my

son's comment: Mom, those things are dangerous! " ). I learned how to

" hug " another adult human at the age of 60 (other than my kids, who will

always just be " my kids " ). I was taught how to hug by a prostitute I

happened to talk to who thought that it was hilarious that I didn't know

how to hug adults. Hey, I learned from an expert! *Everyone* has

something to teach me....

I was a *feral* child and all of life is " catch up " time.

Peace and Compassion

WonderrKid

>>

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------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Guest guest]

That " someone " was me, Lol. Edith thank you for sharing that post --

I'm humbled and inspired. You are Brave. We all are.

Maybe I'm over analyzing, but the catholic " rhythm method " is also

known as " coitus interruptus " . Ko's know the meaning of " life

interruptus " . Holy Crap! Where is that Latin dictionary when I need

it..for the word " life " -- it's vitae or something? I wonder if the

Latin phrase " life_interrupted " is available on Yahoo? ~D.

> I think I could turn and live with animals,

> They are so placid and self-contain'd,

> I stand and look at them long and long.

> They do not sweat and whine about their condition,

> They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,

> They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,

> Not one is dissatisfied,

> Not one is demented with the mania of owning things,

> Not one kneels to another,

> Nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,

> Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

>

> My *other* love is/was classical music. I had a radio that I was

allowed

> to keep in the bedroom that my sister and I shared. It was one of my

few

> possessions. Classical music was the only thing mother didn't object to

> my listening to on the radio. I think that classical music served to

> " ground " and " soothe " me. I'm gifted musically but was always denied a

> musical instrument and lessons. As a child, when we went to the

> g'parents house I was never allowed to play on their piano because we

> only went there on Sundays. Sunday was the " Lord's Day " . The only two

> things we were allowed to do on the Lord's Day was either (1) sit on

the

> sofa, or (2) practice penmanship. Everyone still comments on how

> *beautiful* my penmanship is and I've learned to say, " Thank you " and

> smile and let it go. The sofa was across the room from the piano and,

> because I couldn't play it, I would practice in my head. Later I

learned

> to pick the lock on the main door of the grade school we attended, on

> days that school was closed. My sister would stand guard while I

> practiced on the piano in the basement.

>

> When I was recovering from rheumatic fever at 16, mother gave me $10.

> After I recovered, I started looking for a musical instrument that I

> could buy for $10. The only thing I could find for that price was a

> violin. I plucked on it and dreamed over it and probably drove her

> " crazy " until she finally gave me the money for a bow and case, and she

> paid for violin lessons until I was 18. I practiced, practiced, and

> practiced and entered the university with a scholarship in music. My

> parents gave me no financial support after I moved out. I played in

> orchestras and symphonies and taught music privately until, at age

35, I

> completed my Master's degree in another field and was hired into my

> present profession.

>

> I have always been pragmatic -- I drive a pickup truck (its

dependable),

> wear tennis shoes to work (comfort is important), and am otherwise

clean

> and acceptably dressed (I always wear slacks and sport tops -- nothing

> feminine!).

>

> Raising my kids was easy. My *heart* told me how to do that. I just had

> to protect their rights to a future of *their* choosing. My

education is

> an ongoing process. I bought my first motorcycle on my 50th birthday

(my

> son's comment: Mom, those things are dangerous! " ). I learned how to

> " hug " another adult human at the age of 60 (other than my kids, who

will

> always just be " my kids " ). I was taught how to hug by a prostitute I

> happened to talk to who thought that it was hilarious that I didn't

know

> how to hug adults. Hey, I learned from an expert! *Everyone* has

> something to teach me....

>

> I was a *feral* child and all of life is " catch up " time.

>

> Peace and Compassion

> WonderrKid

>

> >>

[Guest guest]

> > I am an extraterrestrial, but people don't believe it.

WOW! Is it any harder to believe that you are an ET than it is to

believe that a mother would deliberately hurt their own child?

Not for me!

The

> Interplanetary Authority for Infiltration and Invasion made an

> unfortunate choice in the human family they chose to place me in.

So, your BP nada is not your natural mother. Interesting. I wonder

what the criteria is for choosing the human family they placed you

with?

> One of my most important missions is to find out how much we can do

> right under the nose of humans without their believing it, and I

have

> been helpful to my people in that way.

Most humans are basically ignorant and arrogant creatures. I have

always believed that it is ridiculous for us to think that we are the

only intelligent beings in the universe. That is so absurd! I also

think (as is protrayed in the movie War of the Worlds and many

others) that humans over-react and assume that ET's want to hurt us.

I read Communion by Whitley Streiber and immediately came to the

conclusion that he was sexually abused as a child and that he suffers

from sleep paralysis. I can never understand why everyone who claims

to be abducted by aliens always describes painful, humiliating

procedures (such as anal probes) as part of their experience. It

sounds like repressed sexual abuse to me. I mean, really, what would

an ET want to know about our rectums anyway? I can think of a lot of

the parts of a human body that are much more interesting, like our

eyes for example. They not only perform the function of sight, but

they express our emotions more so than any other part of our bodies,

so I would think eyes would be infinitely more interesting than

rectums. LOL!

Tammy