An essay on the spring equinox is at https://ritualabuse.wordpress.com/2012/02/13/the-spring-equinox/
I know that dealing with ritual abuse — or anything, for that matter — is a spiral process. You work on something, it’s miserable, and then there is some sort of closure and you reach a level place where life is not so bad. After a long or short while, more surfaces and you plunge back into the misery at a deeper level.
When it has been a long time since I revisited certain parts of my childhood, it takes me by surprise. I know about this spiral process, I have lived through it many times before, and I don’t expect the calm to last forever. Still, I am always taken unawares.
And it makes me mad. It’s like housework: as soon as you have gotten everything clean and tidy it starts to become dirty and messy and it is time to clean all over again. (I remember Peggy Seeger, Pete Seeger’s sister, singing the folk song “The Housewife’s Lament.” It really speaks to my condition. You can listen to it and read the lyrics at http://www.songlyrics.com/seeger-peggy/housewifes-lament-lyrics/)
Ritual abuse makes me much, much madder than housework. That’s because what went on in the cult is far filthier than any kitchen or bathroom could ever be. The memories are disgusting, revolting. There just aren’t words for how awful they are. Not only do I have to remember it, but I had to live through it. Nobody should have to live through it, never, never, not ever. Let alone a little kid.
So here I am again, up to my armpits in filth. I know it won’t last forever, but it sure feels eternal. I have faith that when I reach equilibrium I will be in a better place than before I sank into the muck because that’s the way it was the other times. But meanwhile I have to endure it for as long as it takes.
And that is why I am so angry.