peigecl: intro

[Guest guest]

I have recently discovered oz and how it has been a black hole that has sucked

me in, condenced me into nothing and spit me out in some unknown part of the

universe. I was born without an identity... My mother is bp. I find that there

aren't many words to describe the impressions left upon us. It is very hard to

heal when you spend your entire life not knowing there is a problem.She was

diagnosed with the disorder 15yrs ago in which she denied it, left her psych of

6yrs and continued her path of destruction riding on the back of... Me. 6mos ago

that journey ended... Breath... I finally broke the ties. I feel like an

empty-nester. Like my child of 26yrs has been set out into the " scary word " to

fend for herself without any protection from the basic aspects of life. Although

somewhat relieved, I do not know what to do if I am not taking care of her. I

somehow lost my purpose. Since that day I am no longer engulfed by the raging

sea... In some ways I am free... But now I am left to question my entire life.

Without her I have no identity. I now sort through the files. More recent ones

are are easier to discern, the past will have to wait until I am stronger. But

as we all do we must move along, 'ever accepting enlightenment in small shaddows

upon our path. And as revelations flood my perception I must accept that these

people are not capable of love. Love. The unconditional gift that we give to our

children. Looking into the faces of my own 3 children I understand what that

means. These tiney humans are not extentions of our selves nor are they tools or

our salvation. We do not own them. They are to be loved and cared for so that

they may grow up to be genuinely happy, making their own ways in the world

confidently, undamaged, thriving. Afterall they are adults much longer than they

are children.I did not have a father or extended family to reflect a glimpse of

normalcy. My reflection in the mirror is my mother, for when she looked into my

face she did not see an individual. She only saw herself the good the bad and

the ugly. I am who she says I am. I feel disoriented. It is hard to face the

fact that my mother never loved me. I always thought she did. I am unable at the

moment to totally " remember " the past. Like the ghosts are haunting me but I

choose to not see. The only way to prevent a breakdown I guess. I thank this

group for letting my voice be heard although such a long winded one. What a

relief! I am not alone in experiences and suffering. The gas light is out here

although we are overcome by the fumes. A place of fellowship for the weary and

the weak... A place where someone understands. Thanks sooo much! A life raft at

last!