What is prison like? Oppressive, demoralizing, hopeless. These are some of the images I have of what being in prison might be like.

One of my favourite bands, CREED, wrote a song called My Own Prison.  It is the title track of their first album.

One of the lines in the song is “I’ve created my own prison.” 

Do we create our own prison? The work I have done with Mary Morrissey’s DreamBuilder program tells me that I have absolutely created my own prison at various times in my life.

How about self-limiting beliefs? Thoughts of “I’m not good enough”, or “I can’t do that”, or “no-one will want me” and this sort of thing. Aren’t those oppressive, demoralizing, hopeless thoughts? That I brought on myself?

When we spend too much time feeling guilt or shame, we are imprisoning ourselves. The door is open, and we can walk out any time we want. But we sit in our self-imposed prison feeling oppressed, demoralized and hopeless.

There is a better way!  Knowledge is power!  Just being aware that we are doing this to ourselves, there is no external force, means we can change how we think and what we do and release ourselves from oppression to a life of freedom.

Even if there are external forces – like being in relationship with a narcissist who tries to beat you down any chance they get. Or even create chances to beat you down. We don’t have to tolerate that.

My mother had a personality disorder, and it felt to me like her purpose in life was to discourage, sabotage and demean me. My position became “anything I say can and will be used against me.” Because it was.

Peace and Freedom

The Bible tells us that as far as it depends on us to live at peace with all men.  I did not have peace. I hated being with my mother. She was fine when I was struggling, but as I experienced opportunities for growth, she became insufferable. I was ready to jump out of my own skin with anger and frustration. And confusion.  Whose mother treats their kid like that? 

I was in my 40’s and she was still doing that. I had long suspected my mother was jealous of me. The idea seemed so ludicrous that I would just push it out of my mind.  Until one day, I reached the tipping point.  I googled “mothers who are jealous of their daughters.” A tsunami of information became available to me. What I was experiencing was real, and it happened to other women as well. I was not crazy!

I embarked on a journey of understanding my mother’s behaviour and how it affected me. I did not deserve the way she treated me.

I made some changes – like limiting the time I spent with her. I made sure I was never alone with her, because that was when the venomous strikes happened. When there were no witnesses.

Eventually even that small amount of time was too much. Why should I put up with abuse just because the abuser was my mother? Emotional abuse is hard to see, find, and prove. But it is very real.

Ultimately, I decided that I respected myself enough to not allow myself to be mistreated.

The only person I can control is me. And if my mother wanted to behave like that, it was her choice. However, I said that if she wanted to be in relationship with me, we would need to do things a different way. And she did not respond. Which told me she was unwilling to change, to treat me with respect. Which was her choice.

The possibilities for growth, a life I love, and being a better version of me are endless.

I am enough.

I released myself from my own prison. The door was open the whole time. I just needed to walk out. To choose peace and freedom.