Mobile Menu

Children Of The Universe

[av_image src=’https://ptsdtraumasurvivors.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/c-ptsd-children-universe.png’ attachment=’162′ attachment_size=’full’ align=’center’ styling=” hover=” link=” target=” caption=” font_size=” appearance=” overlay_opacity=’0.4′ overlay_color=’#000000′ overlay_text_color=’#ffffff’ animation=’no-animation’ admin_preview_bg=”][/av_image]

[av_textblock size=” font_color=” color=” admin_preview_bg=”]
CPTSD Trauma Childhood AbuseObviously, this blog and facebook page is not for everyone. We all gravitate toward what makes us comfortable and what supports our method of creating our own reality.

I know that some of you are religious and I can accept that. What I will not deal with is religious fanaticism. My biological mother was very disturbed and she became a religious fanatic and much of my trauma stemmed from the abuse that came from that.

My older half siblings, all became similar to her. I do not think they even realize it but they all became religious fanatics who have a very different way of looking at the world than I do. I do not have a relationship with them. Unfortunatly, it was simply never meant to be.

I always wanted what I did not have. A big happy family. A big warm house filled with laughter, love and food. I wanted a bedroom filled with toys and soft blankets and pillows and when I would go to sleep I wanted my mom to read me a book and her and my dad to kiss me on the forehead before they closed the door, leaving it open just a crack so the soft hallway light could soften the darkness as I drifted off to sleep.

Instead, I was the product of mental illness and drug addiction. I never knew my biological father. I once hired someone to try to find him but it would have cost more than I wanted to spend.

When I realized that there was no reality that I could have been born into that had a happy start, I remember feeling devastated. Sounds funny perhaps to be devastated at a theoretical exercise contemplating alternate realities where I may have had a chance. I may have had happiness and a normal upbringing. A reality where I was not fractured and damaged. Who would I have been? What would I have been like?

But then I realized how extraordinary it was that I existed at all. If anothing had been just slightly different I would not be here. I would not know what it is like to love, to feel, to think and to cry. I would not know what it is like to fight and struggle nor would I know what it was like to create and connect with others. I simply would not BE.

How grateful I am for that.

Whatever your belief systems is, know that I am intolerant of fanaticism and that this page is a sanctuary. Meaning if anyone attacks another for what they believe, they will be blocked.

We are all doing the best we can with what we have and we have all developed ways to survive and to try to thrive.

At an early age I rejected religion and those who clung to it using it as an excuse for the pain that they caused. I knew that it was not for me. That I had my own way of looking at things and I liked my way better. When they put me in the Adoption Book, one of the first things I told them to write is that I did not want to be placed with a religious family.

When I had just started to reconnect with one of my sisters, the last one to hold out from the fanaticism bug that runs in my biological family, I thought there was hope. We seemed to be so similar in our way of thinking and I so very much wanted a sister.

Unfortunately, her husband became born again and I had to witness her struggle to go against what she believed in order to save her marriage and the life she was comfortable with. It was easier for her to embrace it rather than fight it because it brought her closer to our other siblings and connecter her more to the community her husband was surrounding her with. So now, she too is a religious fanatic. Claiming she knows the answers and that everyone else is wrong and of course that there will be an end of days and so on.

I tried to explain to her, before I ended the relationship the way I view reality and how even if her god was real, it would not matter to me. Unfortunatly, it did not matter in the end. She tried to convert me, unable to see another way anymore and I had to break it off. Her husband had sent me a very nasty email too, one that was full of hate because I was not like them. My response was that he was typical of those of his faith and never contact me again.

I won’t lie, I was pretty upset about the whole thing. I watch my biological cousens on facebook living their lives with their family and I wonder, had things been different, would I have been a part of it? The family get togethers, the BBQs and outings? Would we have had a connection? Like a real family? Would I have been a part of something? I feel I was robbed of the life that could have been but the truth is, it could never have been. There is no me with a normal, healthy start to life.

Once, before she took her own life my biological mother told me how she always wanted to have a family meal. One with all of us kids. (There were six. We never lived together, they grew up together with their own horror stories with the biological father.) She imagined a big table and all of us kids sitting around it grown up with families of our own. She would sit at the head of the table filled with food and watch as we talk and laugh and eat. That was her biggest desire.

It was an impossibility brought on by her mental illness, the lack of support and the ignorance of the times. We were, she was, never going to have the happy ending.

The point this rather unfocused post has, if it has any at all aside from my ramblings and being lost in the past, is this: We are extraordinary. You are extraordinary. You are created from stardust and you are a statistical anomaly. You are amazing. You are alive and you can feel, think, love and suffer. Granted we are the broken, the ones who had been thrown away when we became “too much”. The unloved, the abused and tortured. Yet, right now, we are here. We exist and we are full of potential. Someday we once more be stardust but right now, at this moment we are so much more. I find that infinitely comforting. We live. We experience. We survive and we heal. We are amazing. You are amazing. Remember that if you can when you are struggling with the darkness. You are made of the light. Literally. (And I hate using that word because of its over use and misuse but it applies here.)
[/av_textblock]

[av_heading tag=’h3′ padding=’10’ heading=’Children of the stars’ color=” style=” custom_font=” size=” subheading_active=” subheading_size=’15’ custom_class=” admin_preview_bg=”][/av_heading]

[av_image src=’https://ptsdtraumasurvivors.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/stardust.jpg’ attachment=’167′ attachment_size=’full’ align=’center’ styling=” hover=” link=” target=” caption=” font_size=” appearance=” overlay_opacity=’0.4′ overlay_color=’#000000′ overlay_text_color=’#ffffff’ animation=’no-animation’ admin_preview_bg=”][/av_image]

[av_social_share title=’Share this entry’ style=” buttons=” share_facebook=” share_twitter=” share_pinterest=” share_gplus=” share_reddit=” share_linkedin=” share_tumblr=” share_vk=” share_mail=”][/av_social_share]

[av_comments_list]

Comments

comments