Archive for Horrible Childhood

The Wrong Reflection

Posted in Healing My Own N-traits, How to Heal, My Childhood, Poems, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , on March 15, 2013 by Aya

If people aren’t like you

What are they like?

If  I’m not like you

What am I like?

people can  see me

Can’t they?

I should ask them

“What am I like?”

I need to hear flatteries

Saying nothing about me is just as bad as

Shame triggering poisonous attacks

makes me try harder

to be lovable

Like other people

My reflection’s off

I was trapped in the mirror

The fire of my awareness

Melted the hard walls

allowing me to see

Different directions

Into a maze

The journey is a labyrinth

my psycho experience

my somatic experience

No longer frozen in a reflection

I feel ablazed with sensations.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

You Can’t Manipulate Life to get what you Want

Posted in How to Heal, My Childhood, Rants with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 31, 2011 by Aya

Growing up I was taught by watching my parents that how you manifest what you want is by trying to manipulate life.  Boy did they scheme, get rich quick plans, ice cream trucks, moving and shaking here and there, promotions at work and they were miserable. My step – father would talk about his dreams but my mother never ever talked about hers. I heard her say once that she wanted to take ballet classes when she was younger but her mother denied her. They weren’t fluid and in the flow of life.

My mother used intimadation to ruin my natural channels and flow with life.  Even though my mother’s life choices were never great and I was sad for lack of connection, I was able manifest everything I wanted for myself in my life even without her help. Others would help me. She was not having it, she watched me like a hawk and made me feel like dog shit in order to keep me from being happy. After a while I gave up on even wanting anything, or expecting anything good to happen for me at all.

This is something that I am seeing as I lay here with myself realizing that there is nothing that I can “do” to make anything happen in my life. I have tried hard to make my dreams come true every since I moved out when I was 18 years old. I just turned 30, I thought that when I escaped everything would just happen for me. Not so fast, smooth or easy, I had no idea the work that needed to done to undo the programming that my mother brainwashed me into by her actions, how she viewed me, and how I was treated. Everything starts from within, with a true desire, with a true passion, the action is automatic.

Now the question is, what do I truly want and desire? I haven’t let myself  know what I wanted with certainty since before my mother started abusing my masculine side (animus) when I was going through puberty.

There was a particular incident that I will never forget. I told my mother I wanted to be a singer when I was 11 or 12 years and she looked down at me with those wild raging eyes and she asked me in a very condescending tone,

“Sooooo, you think that the family is just gonna up and move to California just so that you can sing?,”

I shook my head yes, even though I knew it was the wrong answer, I honestly felt like that would be really cool, and plus I was a smart ass . Then she went in at me.

“You are so selfish, you think you’re all that, nobody is gonna move for you, I have 5 other kids you are not the only one living in this house . . . and etc . . . ”

I remember another time I was practicing really hard to get this brian mknight run from one of his songs, and I shared it with her.  She rolled her eyes at me and had the most evil look on her face as she sled out the room. I didn’t know what hit me.

There was another time, I let her hear a song I had written and all she could say is that’s sad as she walked away from me.

Its so much in the words of the story that are important. It is the sensation I feel in my body that makes the difference in whether or not I truly heal. I can feel this in my upper back. Its a numbing feeling almost as if nothing is there, its a deadening feeling that stops all excitement. Its horrible, its almost as if it didn’t happen but something did happen.

This journey for me has been about self – compassion and self – understanding. As much as I would like to get on with my life and just sing already, now I know why it’s just not so simple. My mother gave me a self – image that I have to uncover and accept those parts of me back into my center. Its based off of her needs, inferiority complex, her never wanting to me thrive so that  I would never leave, she needed everything in her life to match the view of life that she had because if it didn’t she had to destroy. Once she knocked most of the vitality out of me she still wasn’t finished, then I was a loser, I’m nothing, I’m crazy. That thing is vicious.

Oh, how confusing for a little girl.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

Rant #1

Posted in Rants, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 6, 2011 by Aya

Are all Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers coming out of the closet? Damn. Minus well. I mean you’ve got to at some point because that is part of the abuse for you to hold in all your goods, to feel like you are a bad person for having a voice and speaking the truth. Your voice, your intentions, and your world are all under survelliance and being questioned by these people 24/7 if they are your parent(s).  And sadly as a little person when they are all you’ve got in the world its a cold connection to them that you mistake as you. I could not have realized when i was in my teens the dire effects this abuse would have on my life as an adult even though I held on to myself secretly deep down inside.

Now that I am doing my damnest to make a real life for myself, doing real things that I truly desire to do, putting my heart into my life again all I can feel is this perverse self-hatred. On my left side, in my shoulders, my back where my heart is located, up my neck to the left side of my head I feel this attachment. The message from the attachment is that everything I do is hated, is going to be hated, and I minus well give up because no one is going to support me, everyone hates me  just because I’m me. And its been my pattern, that is part of my mothers message to me my whole life. Anything that I put my heart into, that I held dear, that I felt confident in she pillaged from me, right in front of my face and then would pretend like she didn’t know why I hated my life and felt like I wanted to die.

This is an awful feeling and I am so glad to pin point what it is that has been driving me insane for the past couple of days since I started this Art group of meetup.com. For the past 2 days I have been driving myself crazy thinking my intentions are bad, (had to stop typing to sob), and I have been checking my ego like crazy and making sure I am starting my art group for all the right reasons. Granted, I have lived in a fantasy world most of life and my ego can get out of hand because I’m used to wanting to be more than what I am and often times making myself less than what I am so that I won’t trigger these crazy ass feelings of guilt, isolation, and shame for being who I am and living.  This is just the beginning of my individuation and healing my masculine side, animus. (I actually had a dream that I had a penis and I was getting head from someone I didn’t see. Then it turned into some kind of sex party. It was funny because the girls were flouncing on top of it and I was squinting because I was afraid it would hurt. I looked up what a woman having a penis in a dream meant and meant that my masculine energy is starting to develop = )

That brings me to the reason I am starting this blog. I AM P.A.M. stands for I am Performing As Myself! The Art group I am starting is called I AM P.A.M Art Group. It is for Highly Sensitive People (HSP’s) and all sensitve types who are working their asses off to get back into their own sacred space that was infringed upon by people who are evil, ignorant and don’t want anyone to exist around them that tarnishes their view that they are the most powerful thing walking. I’m tired of this shit, and I want to do everything I can to empower myself and others with this blog, my Art Group, the music I make, and the products I will sell. We deserve to be here too! I was the one who took care of all of my mother’s 4 other children, washed clothes, cleaned the house, stayed in my room on call, and stayed psychologically right where she wanted me, all while thinking that I am the problem. No matter how she tries to tarnish my image in the outside world or how many of my family members are enmeshed with her I refuse to stop fighting for my life. end rant.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved