My mom died in June of 1992, after about 6 weeks of being ill. This is when our issues all "hit the fan" so to speak. Since then we've been doing all we can to get past our past. We thought we were close to mom and we were, like in Stockholm Syndrome where a captive bonds to the captor for safety and survival. As issues arose and we discovered some of what she had really been like we got over any grief and we never looked back or missed her. I was pretty surprised I could just cut off any part of myself that wanted a mother or wanted her. In fact, cold as it is, I've been glad she died relatively quickly and at age 62 before a long decline could happen. I'm glad she's dead. She was the single most damaging person in my rogues gallery of people who abused us. Number two was a satanic, sadistic, pervert who taught us in 4th grade. That should give enough idea as to why we have issues. We lost count of how many perpetrators we endured.

I am angry. Very, very Angry! No day goes by without some limitation or hurt due to past abuse. I don't want to be bitter and If this is a huge drag to read, don't feel you need to respond to me. I just needed to say that the woman who had my birth induced so she could tie her tubes and who conceived me while using 3 forms of birth control - wounded me so deeply and completely that I doubt it is possible to entirely heal from the things she did, did not do and instigated others to do to us. She was a survivor of similar abuse, and her anger makes mine look pale and feeble. The best thing I got from my mom was a determination to NOT EVER hurt people the way she and the cult hurt me. I just learned I need to become something now instead of spending all my energy "not" becoming like her.

I wanted desperately to love my mom when I was young, my teens wanted to escape her and my twenties self accepted her. Tonight I'm in a battle between the angry adult parts of us who despise her and would rather die than need her and the awful awareness that we have littles in here who need a mom figure to love and we don't think we have one to give them. They are so hungry for love and attention and we are so tired of having to be "tough" and pretend we need no one but God and each other inside of Leslie.

Sorry for the length, we don't blog and didn't think to just go to our own journal. One of our littles actually wanted to be the one to post and we tried to explain what was coming and the little didn't get much to say for herself. damn.

Leslie and Deborah

my mom don lov me. she wish i wuz ded. i wish dat to. wat is rong wif me? am i bad, is at wi she don lik me at all? nobudy lov me but don tel i sed so or shell get mad at me an she scar me. is not mi falt im a kid. if u mom don luv u, is u nobuddy? she held me under de watr, i not spos to tels u dat, but i did it eneway so there mom! she not nis persun an i don luv her neethr. im gona tel God on her. if i had sumware to go i wud go. no excape. it all goes rown an rown in my hed all de werds an memrees an feers. my hed is to full. she wuz bad an it wuz NOT MI FALT!! I dint do nuffin rong, cept i tak too much. they tried kill me but it not werk. i still here ha ha ha on them. ok, we try stop now byby,

leli an spunky pixies