A Beautiful Mess

A Sexual Abuse and Addiction Recovery Blog

Rock Bottom Has Arrived

It’s been a while since I have blogged.  I thought I had a grip.  I had a great relationship, a pet, a home and thought I was going to be on my way to the alter at some point.  I was dumped.  I relapsed.  I want to justify the relapse and say how it really wasn’t that bad and he should have stood by me during the hard times if he loved me the way that he did.  Long story short, he didn’t and I was on my own.  He was a vicious monster and changed the locks, talked a lot of shit about me and left me high and dry (no attempt at punny, but it happened).

My “mom by love” was sick of it all and she’s not one for having me stay at her house so I needed to make decisions quickly and the decision I had made was to move to Florida with my cousin.  That was a knee jerk reaction and a decision that was made in a highly emotional mind.  It wasn’t her fault for rushing me, but mine for not just sucking it up and going to the shelter and “putting my big girl panties on”.  I’ve been avoiding this bottom by reaching out, doing risque activities and just doing whatever I could to avoid anyone knowing how shitty my life had become.

Florida was great, but I really intruded upon my cousin’s life and was pushing boundaries.  I didn’t mean to push the boundaries, but my cousin’s trauma that she has dealt with in her life is just pushed to a corner of her mind that she doesn’t visit.  She has left it behind and doesn’t wish to unpack that box or revisit it.  Where I find it healing and soothing to discuss such things.  My social anxiety took over and when she said she was having 3-6 people over for Easter, I could barely breathe at the thought.  I have anxiety, but on the holidays it’s much more intense than any other time of the year.  I ended up running back to where I just ran from due to familiarity.

I wanted to write this eloquently, but right now, this is just a reminder of what I went through for myself to read later.  I relapsed hardcore when I came back from Florida.  I started out great.  I was in Milwaukee, half ass getting my shit together, when all of a sudden I had a great idea to run to Green Bay quick … score and then leave.  Should have been maybe 30 minutes in town and then back to my safe place in Milwaukee.  I ended up staying days in Green Bay, spending all the money I had and leaving my shit in the hotel in Milwaukee where they had to pack it up and set it aside.  Medication and all.   And to add insult to injury, I had borrowed my car to my dealer who wasn’t giving my car back.

During this time, a very popular website I was using to try and get on my feet was shut down by the FBI and my means to get “fast money” was abruptly stopped.  I had to make an exit from the place I was staying, with the dealer, because the environment was getting extremely hostile.  I ended up having to call the police on myself who then took me to the Crisis Center.  A great friend and his wife let me stay at their house for almost a full week while I almost ate them out of house and home.

April 30th, I will be entering drug treatment.  I just pray that between now and then I can stay clean.  Tomorrow, I head to the homeless shelter.  Life is uncomfortable and everything feels so out of character, but that’s a good sign right?

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Fighting the Good Fight

Some days are definitely better than others.  My mind is fucking with me today.  My insecurities are shining like a lighthouse.  I feel like a downer to people around me and I’m just not in the greatest place.  There is a strong urgency to numb it all somehow, but I know that’s not the answer.  I know that these feelings are fleeting, but I’ve just been in a negative space in my head this past week.  It has included flash backs to the night my father passed, feeling inadequate, not loved equally, lesser than… a big ol’ ball of my dis-ease talking to me.  I’m fighting back and not giving in to all this amazingly crazy talk inside my head.  I’m giving myself pep talks in the mirror.  I want to cry, I want to laugh… I feel like crying, but I really WANT to laugh.  I don’t want to feel like crying.  I want to feel happiness and contentment and actually believe the affirmations that I recite when I feel like this.  I’m just working on trying to validate myself and not look to the external world to give me my worth.

This week has just been off.  First, it was someone bringing up the night my father died and the shriek I let out when I found out.  Then it was a meeting with a woman who was talking over me with large words and science type shit about a field I had chosen to explore.  On to listening to praise of others from a loved one, when inside I was wishing that they’d think that highly of me.  Did a makeup application when the woman loved it, but then went home for her husband to convince her she looked bad.  I’m not having a bad life, I’m having a really off week.  I just needed to journal to get this shit off my chest, because when I voice it to others, I feel like I’m either a downer or they are telling me I need to let it go, in so many words.

Ugh.

PTSD sucks.  Codependency sucks.  Addiction sucks.

Despite all this, I am choosing recovery.  I am choosing to say no to the demons inside my mind.  I will fight.

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Christmas Hangover

When I refer to “Christmas Hangover”, I’m not talking about alcohol or any mind altering substances.  I’m talking about the emotional buildup of hanging out for the obligatory socializing with people I may not normally see or talk to any other time of the year.  It is awkward for me and a painful reminder of childhood circumstances and the damage I’ve caused with addiction and side effects of PTSD.

I do my best to attend and really work on keeping my perspective on the side of feeding the “good” within me.  I can make a heaven out of hell – or – a hell out of heaven.  I did pretty well until I sat down for dinner for day two of festivities and the absence of my father just set in… all at once like someone sat a huge cement block on my chest.  I feel like I did well overall, but I had reached my maximum output.  I could no longer keep the mask on of holiday festivities and the real me starting shining through.  I don’t like to come across as a drama queen.  It’s kind of been my forte over the years and I’ve come to terms with the need for a higher level of emotional maturity.  I succeed most of the time, but man oh man, I could feel a break down bubbling up.  It’s not that I don’t love my family, but I don’t have the relationship with the them that I wish I did.  So… being there, feeling the obligatory invite, and seeing them interact and all that… it just saddens me in a way that I don’t think they could understand without personally experiencing.  I feel like they are doing my stepmother a favor by having me there.

I’m fighting some severe codependency issues.  I was in denial and only recently identified that it’s a severe issue in my life.  Putting myself in the center of my own universe and accepting responsibility for my own happiness is extremely scary and foreign to me.  But I know that it’s intensely affecting my quality of life.

So the day after Christmas is always wonderful for me… it’s the furthest I can get from having to Christmas again.  Today let the celebration commence.  Also, the days are getting longer, as well, so that in itself is another reason to celebrate.

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Gratitude – 12/17/16

  • Coffee
  • Warmth
  • Roof over my head
  • Sleep
  • No night terrors
  • Patricia
  • Knowledge
  • Clean Clothes
  • Awesome Dad
  • Grandma, Grandpa, Samantha, Mom
  • Health
  • Meeting with Jaime on Tuesday
  • Love
  • Interview
  • New Year Starting Soon
  • Start of Day 4
  • Snow Storm…. yah yah yah

“I’m either working on recovery or working on a relapse.”  This is me… working on recovery.

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Living With Addiction

Living with addiction is like living with your enemy… inside your head.  It’s a constant battle to ward off the evil.  If I’m not feeding myself recovery food, I’m starving my soul and feeding the demon.  At any time, this beast can sucker punch me and take all that I have.  I question myself after a relapse and picking myself up is hard to do.  Each time I feel “heavier”.  I look forward to the day that I can say I have years clean.  Although no amount of clean time will ever remove this horrid condition.  I never wanted to be this.  I just am.  It’s part of my DNA.  I was further along in my recovery work, but now I question it all.  I’m ready for a do over.  I think I need to go back to page 1 and just really dive much more deeply into the work.  I’ve read it.  I know what it says, but I haven’t intellectualized and discussed it enough to really absorb it on a deeper level.  Each time, I question it less.  It’s a hard pill to swallow, but the truth of the matter is… I am an addict.  I have a disease.  It’s an obsession of the mind and an allergy of the body.  It’s a forever thing.  I must constantly feed my mind and soul recovery food or I am feeding the beast.

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