Struggling--any comments?

I guess I'm asking for your help now. I've been doing pretty well overall. Now, though, I'm struggling. Perhaps this is a boundary issue, I don't know. Gifts. Birthdays. Two issues.

One is I am becoming depressed at the thought of not being acknowledged on my birthday. Odd thing to get upset about before it even happens. It's a heavy feeling, as though I am not important in the world, to anyone. When I close my eyes, I go back to my 16th birthday, wandering around the house like a ghost, afraid, sad, wanting to die...

[An insight just popped in my head: one's birthday is the day one is BORN, right? So, being ignored on one's birth DAY has the feel of never having existed...never having been born. Now that I've born a life myself, I am starting to be able to put into words the existential aspect of being acknowledged, of existing in the physical and emotional realms--of being held, fed, wrapped in swaddle cloths, rocked--all physical expressions of love. I'm going off topic for a moment, but this is exactly why I co-sleep with my baby. We snuggle all night long, she can comfort suck on the breast as much as she wants, and I don't want to do it any other way. I need her to know I LOVE her, I acknowledge her existence and her needs, and her needs WILL be met. No matter how tired I am. I look at her sleeping, her legs draped over mine, her arms open to the whole world, her slow breathing and I couldn't imagine not doing this.]

....The situation is so very different now, why can't I just get over it??? The feeling of depression is almost unconnected to the memory at this point, it's just that years of hypnosis and EMDR make me very aware of past connections to current feelings. The people active in my life are being wonderful and I have absolutely no reason to feel this way. My husband loves birthdays and makes a big deal over them. My mother and cousin are visiting. I even received a special gift in the mail from my lover, quite amazing and appropriate. So, why can't I banish this wet-blanket heaviness from my heart?

I guess this leads to my second issue--I am experiencing a bit of discomfort about this gift. Not because of what it is, but because I didn't ask permission for this to happen. Now, I feel I am hiding something.  Did I cross a boundary that I wasn't supposed to? Is there something about gifts that cross boundaries? What is it? And why am I terrified all the sudden?  I'm trying to nail down this feeling, but it's getting mixed with the heaviness, and the fear of rejection is creeping up again. A desperate feeling of wanting to grab onto this and smother and make permanent something that is not meant to be so. I'm watching each word and as they evolve and change and then pull back, I am becoming more and more anxious. Checking emails every few minutes, rereading yesterday's conversations over and over again. I don't like this feeling, but I am not sure how to stop it.

Boundaries and Sexual Behavior

"If your boundaries have always been violated, then it is unfair to expect yourself to be able to set them all of a sudden. You don’t become assertive and powerful just because you grow up and leave home. No matter what age you are, no matter what relationship you have with the abuser, if someone with more power is pressuring you into a sexual relationship, then you are being abused."

— The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse by Ellen Bass & Laura Davis 

There are many aspects to the topic of boundaries, and I have found that, at least for me, the relationship between sexual behavior and boundaries has been very confusing. Where does one begin and the other end? Where is the safety limit? Where is the comfort zone? What is appropriate behavior toward someone and from someone toward me? I never really explored these questions in depth until I was in my 30s. In my early 20s, I became obsessed by the power and drug-like effect of sexual activity and I chased it from one continent to another. I was just beginning to explore PASSION when the object of my passion was torn away--separated by distance. I tried to let it go, to tolerate the loss, but I simply couldn't. I chased this obsession to Europe, where my only thought was to be in bed beside my lover again. I had other reasons for leaving of course, the largest being a father who was chasing ME with his attention and anxiety and guilt and would give no respite, which was the catalyst for the whole episode, but on par with that was a desperate, obsessive drive for sex that blinded me. This was my first sexual experience, and it was heady. It was something that took me out of myself in very good way; something that made me fly, something where I became another person in another world, something in which my natural instincts of sensitivity and intensity and feeling were rewarded!!!! 

This episode had to end of course, and it was from a manipulation of my fears by my father over a long distance, that I came crashing to earth. Afterwards, my exuberance over sexuality buried its head in the sand for over 20 years. You know the history. 

When I experienced my "awakening" in my mid-30s, I was not in a safe situation, and boundaries should have been my first priority. But not knowing such a thing existed, I was bound for trouble. 

The first boundary I should have considered was my physical safety. And I don't mean STDs (at the moment). I am talking about meeting strange men in strange places. Going to their homes. Meeting in deserted areas. I did not consider any consequences of these behaviors.  I think, now, a person with boundaries and self-respect would have insisted on choosing locations herself and taken some control of the situation. I let them control EVERYTHING, believing this was just how it should be.  I also had no way to ensure that these men were "safe" people at all-just their word. It shouldn't have been enough. Any healthy individual would have considered that beforehand.

The second boundary that I didn't think about was the sexual activities themselves. I had expressed my desires and what I didn't like during online chats, but I never explicitly stated limits. Even in person, I didn't express limits. I let anything go, and pretended to like it. I never had thought deeply about some of these sexual actions I was getting into; had I considered some of the realities and what I truly felt about them, (and understood limitations of course), things would have been different. I was desperately seeking the mental and physical fulfillment of my initial experience, but many of these encounters left me cold. Even in this, I felt I had to please. I didn't realize I had a right to say no to something I was uncomfortable with. Then, of course, was the STD issue. I did know enough to use protection, but I didn't realize other dangers of other activities. And I trusted that when these men said they were free of disease, they were being honest. I think anyone with boundaries (and self-respect) in these situations would have requested proof.

I didn't realize, either, that I could keep my personal life to myself. I gave myself away at every opportunity. One of these men wouldn't even tell me his name, but I unthinkingly gave up my entire identity, and he immediately did a web search on me. I spoke about personal issues at the beginning; I blurred the lines between intimacy and sexual encounter. I simply gave up too much information. I felt I had become part of their worlds and wanted to fit in accordingly. My grave mistake, and my lack of boundaries. 

All of this also begs the sticky question that has been around for some time: when one consensually engages in sexual activity, is that person entitled to boundaries and limits? If one allows an activity to begin, which had been something discussed between the two online, but ends up feeling like an invasion, does the term "boundary" even apply? When one meets up with another through an engagement previously made through a SEX SITE, how much right to limits does one have???  Perhaps it is my personal difficulty with boundaries (and tendency to assume guilt) that causes me to ask this question. I experienced one instance of what my therapist called "rape" but to me, felt like I deserved it and brought it on by discussing it during an online chat.  To this day, I do not truly know what to think about this issue.

I'm sure there is more I could write about, but this is enough information for one day.  I hope what I write here has been able to help.

Boundaries in Relation to Covert Incest

I don't know if I've written about boundaries in relation to covert incest yet. If I have, please forgive my "mommy brain." (seven months of sleep deprivation have consequences!)

Before my ACOA group, I didn't know such a thing existed! I thought I needed to hide and shut down whenever I was mentally assaulted; those were my only forms of protection.  It never occurred to me that I had even a little power to say "no" or "I will not tolerate being spoken to in that way" or even to hang up the phone. Without knowing about boundaries, I was helpless. And the helplessness became a core part of who I was. I lived in dread of something, anything, going wrong because I knew what would come next: the assault and the guilt and my acceptance of it. I struggled to make myself proud of me for one moment and the assault would happen and I would lose that precious second. I would reaffirm my own carelessness, stupidity, ugliness, and so forth. It never occurred to me, either, that I may have been wronged.

That was my education in boundaries: being a spineless mass of humanity because no one told me there was another way. I never saw a boundary modeled by a parent or a sibling. I believed it was their right to examine my head and my emotions and thoughts...and if they didn't do this of their own perogative, I was thoroughly trained to neatly hand them over with a bow for their scrutiny. I was trained well.

When I began to assert some independence and refused to hand over my thoughts kindly--this was during my college phase and my father's new woman--oh, did they all get mad! It was the same old story: denial of affection, material gifts, and approval. And the shame piled upon me! I could barely live with myself (and I mean that literally!) Boundaries were not just discouraged, but punished, in my family, that is what I am trying to say. The shame was the worst. Being made to feel that my thoughts and feelings were WRONG...that since they made up who I was, I as a human being was WRONG. WEAK. INFERIOR. I was shamed for crying by my mother and sister; however, I was encouraged to cry by my father because then I was soft as playdough and he could mold and shape and manipulate my form. Either way, I was fucked, wouldn't you say?

I attempted to explain boundaries to my father eventually, when I was in my late 20s. He tried to understand, I think, but it was such a foreign concept that he couldn't digest it and continued the same invasive behavior over the phone and in person, no matter how many requests I made or how lovingly or harshly I phrased them.

Once I understood what boundaries were, even then, I believed they were hurtful to others. I used to get so angry, being stuck with the same icky feeling that if I put up a boundary, I might be protecting myself, but at the same time, I would be hurting someone else. I never felt I could protect myself and not harm the person on the other side. I would get so frustrated that I would throw objects at the wall to express how I felt about this trap I was in. And indeed, others were hurt by putting up boundaries for my protection. My dad was hurt, my sister was hurt, my mother was hurt. So, by saving myself, I felt I was killing others. It was them or me in the end. And that is the truth, in my family of origin. I can never have sacred self and be a part of this family.

A book I found helpful about boundaries (and especially for "highly sensitive people" or "HSPs" [a topic all its own for another day]) is called Boundaries and Relationships by Charles Whitfield.

Self-forgiveness is possible...

Still on the upswing...life is pretty decent right now, despite the distress of having been rejected by half of my family of origin. I find I can live with the unresolved, I can hold on to my dignity, and I can keep myself afloat. And it's not just survival anymore.

A good friend told me, right before my daughter was born, that I BELIEVE I will be taking care of her, but in reality, she will be taking care of me. That was a puzzle to me for these past six months, but just this week I understood...I looked at her face, her beautiful face and (she looks so like me!) felt a strong wave of compassion. An emotion I have never felt toward myself. It was for BOTH of us. What a sweet, beautiful, INNOCENT child she is...as I was, too. How could an innocent baby be the cause for her own abuse? It's not possible. I love her so much--so much that I am able to forgive myself, deep in my heart, for the first time.

I can't describe the euphoric feeling of connecting with another tiny human being who has your features, your EXPRESSIONS, your mannerisms, and clings to you as though you are her entire world. This feeling, right here, right now is worth every second of the discomfort of pregnancy, the pain of birth and recovery, and the changes to my body.

Progress, not perfection

Time is still rushing by, and none of my fears are coming to pass. Instead, something changed. A definite softening. This is very good. I am keeping myself together, keeping my priorities straight, acting like a grown up : ) I'm proud--this is a big accomplishment for me.

I really couldn't care less right now about what anyone thinks of me, my choices, my lifestyle. I'm satisfied. My daughter smiles, a lot, and I don't want to die.