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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 8 of 8. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Toph on May 14, 2005, at 8:51:41
White Hot
BAM, Look what you did
BAM, You piece of crap
BAM, Get away from me
BAM, You look like sh*t
BAM, You stupid *ss
BAM, Don’t ever touch me
BAM, Like anyone cares
BAM, Shut up the f*ck up
BAM, I hate your guts
BAM, That didn’t hurtHot, heavy, hardened iron’s
Swift sizzling decent
Its final form
Examined
By the rippling black shadow above.
Posted by Susan47 on May 14, 2005, at 12:18:33
In reply to Formative Years, posted by Toph on May 14, 2005, at 8:51:41
Your parents really hated themselves.
Why? Were they like that with everyone?
Or just their children?
Why?
They were definitely that, to themselves.
Why? Who said that to them?
Who would do such a thing?
What fear runs through a family so deeply
that they scar each other so much
until one day
a child
turns into a man
and finds his own worth.
And now
the hate can die.
Love, acceptance,
great healing,
healing for the world you touch
may take it's place.
Oh, Toph.
You're incredibly beautiful.
Posted by Toph on May 15, 2005, at 12:52:42
In reply to Re: Formative Years, posted by Susan47 on May 14, 2005, at 12:18:33
All children are blessed, I suppose. It just seems that some are more blessed than others.
Posted by Tamar on May 17, 2005, at 9:04:25
In reply to Formative Years, posted by Toph on May 14, 2005, at 8:51:41
Wow. That was amazing: evocative and terribly painful. I sort of want to send you hugs, if it's appropriate, even though I don't really know you...
Tamar
Posted by Toph on May 17, 2005, at 10:11:09
In reply to Re: Formative Years » Toph, posted by Tamar on May 17, 2005, at 9:04:25
I like hugs. Thanks for your kind words Tamar. It's hard to write stuff. It should be perfect. It never is.
Posted by cockeyed on May 20, 2005, at 0:49:09
In reply to Formative Years, posted by Toph on May 14, 2005, at 8:51:41
Whew, I thought I had it bad. But I was loved so it must have been good. Bam! Strange how 'good' hurts when one's a kid. By the way "toph" Instead of Topher Grace I think of Toph[et] which I think was a hebrew or aramaic word for hell. That last stanza is hell. the stuff of nitemare. But no hugs here, just the thought that nothing is perfect; I suspect that's what makes that image so good. [Man, is that pretentious or what.] Still that's a memory I'm glad I don't have or know. I can still feel it. worse, see it. Cockeyed
Posted by AdaGrace on May 20, 2005, at 5:43:41
In reply to Formative Years, posted by Toph on May 14, 2005, at 8:51:41
I am reminded of a plaque I hung on the wall in my children's room when they were little. I don't remember what the exact words were, but the gist was "children learn what you do" The old saying "do as I say, not as I do" doesn't really work. Children can learn so easily from parents mistakes. They can take that knowledge and become their parents or become a better person for it. Noone needs to thank their parents for the abuse if it makes them stronger, more forgiving, more loving, more understanding, and obviously less abusive. But it can be seen in so many people when they become adults and grow to become more beautiful human beings and treat others including their children as they wished they were treated, and of course as they should be treated.
Children learn what you do.
Toph, I know that it is hard to write about bad things in the past. I commend you on your efforts and sit here thinking that I am glad I know you. Even if it is in the world wide web way instead of in person.
AdaGrace
Posted by Toph on May 20, 2005, at 17:55:47
In reply to Re: Formative Years » Toph, posted by AdaGrace on May 20, 2005, at 5:43:41
Truth be told most of the basis of this post is what I witnessed as a Child Protection worker. The hardest blows I ever received were, and continue to be, from myself. But Gracie, you are right to have optimism about the resiliency of children. I have seen kids from the most depraved and abusive environment grow to transcend their lot and cling to whatever branches of kindness and love were extended to them. Sadly, a great many others harden into a cold image of their blacksmith.
This is the end of the thread.
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