When I think of the holidays with my family, I get a mixture of nostalgia and horror. There were certainly good times, but there was also torture of a special kind. In general, I hated family holidays and am happy not to have to endure them anymore. During the holidays, you’d think people were more relaxed, but in abusive families, holidays are often a time of greater stress.
It’s funny how things come around full circle sometimes. If you make the effort to stay in tune with the rhythm of the Universe, you’re led to what you need. That’s what I believe, anyway. Three years ago, I had a vision of creating a website that goes into depth about childhood emotional abuse from the perspective of the adult survivor. I thought the desire to create it had died in me, but it hasn’t. Emotional Abuse Answers is the result.
A few days ago, I got a couple of emails from my sister about a financial issue that’s going on right now in my family. For anyone who doesn’t know, I ceased contact with my parents back in 2002. My sister and brother, however, are still in contact with them. My sister recently lost a source of income, and my parents have decided to help her financially by deferring repayment of a loan they got from my brother in order to send the money to her. This touches a sore point for all of us, including me, though I’m not directly involved.
Every year, I like to figure up my Tarot Year Card. I learned about the Tarot Year Card from Mary Greer’s book “Tarot for Your Self,” which identifies this as the card that represents your particular theme, challenge, and focus for the coming year. Last year’s Tarot Year Card was Justice, which involves assessing your life from a more objective, non-emotional point of view and recognizing where change needs to happen. This year it’s The Hanged Man, which follows Justice in the Tarot. It’s about surrender, taking a different point of view, and honoring who you are.
I tried sleeping for a few hours on the night of the autumn equinox, but it was no use. My stomach seemed to be folding in on itself. There were moments when I thought, No, I won’t do this. This isn’t me. But then I’d think of my mother’s sickening smile and how she spoke to me as if she had a right to rape my mind. If I didn’t go, I was letting her take something from me that I could never get back.