A Beautiful Mess

A Sexual Abuse and Addiction Recovery Blog

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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Emotional Challenges

I am being challenged with keeping a stable emotional state of mind.  Most of it is due to things that are out of my control, but I know that certain things are negatively impacting my state of mind.

My significant other is constantly mood swinging and I’m having to detach from how he chooses to feel on a moment to moment basis.  My natural instinct is to fix it, cheer him up, do whatever to make him smile… put my own happiness second to his.  It’s literally going to kill me if I don’t change my ways.  He’s not physically violent, but the emotional instability from all this certainly isn’t good for my recovery.

Codependency sucks.

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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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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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Sometimes Society Makes Me Mad…

This whole situation with Janay Rice and her husband is disturbing.  The act itself was so saddening, but reading the comments of everyone on the internet just makes my heart break inside.  She’s a gold digger, she’s stupid, she’s dumb… this is the vast majority of what I am reading.  This lady is a victim of domestic abuse… plain and simple.  Her thinking isn’t clear right now and while everyone on the outside looking in is casting some pretty horrible judgment on a young lady that needs help… desperately.  The further abuse from society itself can only further push this young lady into an even darker place.  I believe she’s scared.  I believe she’s confused.  But I don’t believe that because she stays, that she deserves it.  HE is the one with issues… and yes, she has some, but to be judged and condemned by society in the manner that is taking place is so wrong.  I wish I could block any and everything to do with this on FB, because I’ve been drawn to the comments like a moth to the flame.  In my own best interest though, I will stop reading them.  Nothing good can come of it.

 

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Disarray

My life has been completely out of control lately and it seems that the only one who really knows this is me.  I have learned how to lie and how to keep things a secret so much more now.  It makes me sad that I’ve gotten so good at keeping those close to me out of my craziness.  Inside I am screaming help me… but no one can hear it.  I nearly broke down in tears today when I saw the proud fathers walking their small children to the bus.  I don’t know what it was, but out of nowhere I could barely breathe from trying to not feel whatever it was that I was feeling.  I’m missing out on life.  I’ve missed out on so much.  There will be a time in my life when I will regret all the time I never had with my family because I was too busy entertaining my addiction.  I’m scared inside.  I’m dying inside.  But no one knows…

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Self Compassion

Been having a couple of weeks that have been emotionally draining.  I’m pretty sure it has something to do with me being off of my medications and also being smack dab and in the midst of winter.  I’m having a hard time accepting that it’s okay to just survive right now.  After all, treading water certainly seems better than drowning.  It’s been difficult for me to truly allow myself to feel how I am feeling.  I keep judging it.  I feel lazy, withdrawn, depressed, zilch for energy.  I am thankful that I have my doctor’s appointment next Monday.  I am happy to know that this feeling will pass.  It’s why I celebrate the good so much.  I know that, too, will pass.

Life.  On life’s terms.

I’m working on not beating myself up, but lately I’ve had some negative thoughts creeping in.  It’s also some people on the outside of my head as well… some not so encouraging words, because I have never seem to deliver before, so why now?  And I feel their frustration, probably more than they will ever truly know.  All I’ve really wanted to do was make certain people in my life proud.  I seem to struggle with the basics sometimes… although other times I feel like I am kicking ass at life.

I don’t know.  I just needed to blog.  Vent.  Since there really isn’t anyone I can talk to about this.  Everyone is so busy with their lives and I, most certainly, hate feeling like a drama queen when discussing this with people who don’t get it.  It’s over their head and overwhelming.  I don’t want to put that on them and ultimately, there is nothing that they could do, but listen.  Sometimes I wish they could listen.  But when they hear the things I say I can see the looks of shock on their face.  I know they can’t handle my truth.  Disclosure is not 100% safe.   I feel like sometimes I have to put on this facade and be who society wants me to be.  When I do this, I feel so fake.  I want to just be able to be me, and not care what the world thinks.  I am moving closer to this, but I’m still quite sensitive to others opinions, particularly when they aren’t very nice.

Mad at myself for letting an old friend back in a door, as well.  Felt completely used and unappreciated after tending to their every need/demand because I felt bad that they were in a predicament.  On the flip side, they didn’t give a hoot about what I had going on and completely took advantage.

I don’t regret helping them.  I do regret that I will not be as quick to go out of my way for them again.  It is what it is.  All I can control is me.

My anxiety attacks have been in full effect.  Partially induced by myself because I keep letting a certain someone back in and within hours I am triggered again.  Practicing self soothing skills.  Trying to just allow myself to do whatever necessary for me to feel safe and not to feel silly about it.

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In This Moment

My days are filled with sadness and sorrow.

I looking for unicorns, glitter and better tomorrows.

My choices are my own.

But it’s like I don’t even know myself in certain moments of time.

It’s like some other person, thing or energy overtakes me

and sings me a lullaby.

It makes me feel weak.

It makes me feel inadequate.

It makes me feel humbled.

It’s like a wild roller coaster ride that I’m in the passenger seat.

I feel like I don’t know me.

But as soon as I think I am starting to learn,

the roller coaster starts all over again.

I won’t give up.

But this shit is not easy.

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My Rant for Today

Fuck the unicorn and glitter today.  This asshole, loser, selfish, and cold bastard is never going to send me my mother’s teddy bears.  They were mine as a child and she always held on to them.  As I got older, I started buying her teddy bears to add to “our” collection.  I never wanted shit from my mother and after her death, that was all I wanted.  I didn’t care about what little money there was nor any of her other belongings.  Hell, his kids had already broke in and robbed her of most of her belongings prior to that.

I’m sad.  I’m hurt and I hate him.

That is all.

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A Poem For You, Mom

Every morning I miss you so much.

It’s like I can’t accept this moment your gone.

My mother, my nemesis, my worst enemy.

We could have had more if only you’d see.

I don’t know when you stopped caring,

or if you ever did.

All I know is, your gone.

And what could have been,

will never be.

 

 

It’s like I feel this immense weight on my shoulders.  She perpetrated abuse against me in a multitude of ways.  Her death just finalized things and what I always thought we would be, never was.  She never did come around to be my mother.  She just stayed an addict.  She completely chose men and drugs over me.  I understand that she came from a horrible background and was abused herself.  But never once did she ever even try to quit or even contemplate it.

 

It’s so hard for me to accept the fact that our relationship was all it was.  I cry daily over her death.  The closure that I got from this was most certainly not what I ever imagined.  It hurts like hell.  It’s been 9 months but it seems like I’m grieving so much more lately.

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