A Beautiful Mess

A Sexual Abuse and Addiction Recovery Blog

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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I am feeling a deep sense of loss tonight.  I can’t stop thinking about my father and how much I miss him.  He was my security blanket and my comfort in times when I felt out of place.  I haven’t made the best decisions in my life and I’ve struggled with many obstacles.  I feel an immense amount of emotions that are very mixed.

I feel like the most important people in my life are all deceased now and I don’t know why all of a sudden I feel like I don’t fit in.  I feel like my stepmother is doing what she is doing out of sense of duty to him.  I know she loves me, but I’ve always questioned if she loves my cousins more than me.  I don’t know that she feels like I am truly her daughter, or if like my cousins, she just loves me like she loves them.  And I know that love is love, but when trying to decipher where I fit in the world, I guess it matters to me if she does love me more.  It sounds so silly to say, but these thoughts are really overwhelming my mind.

I spent an hour or so just reading about what happens when we die.  I think about seeing my father in the hospital and how gray he was and how vunerable he looked when during his whole life alive on this earth, I don’t believe I’ve ever truly seen him in a vunerable state.  I just am trying to deal with losing my best friend.  Wondering if she is going to leave my father’s home to them when she passes.  I don’t know.  I feel slightly like a selfish child with a sense of entitlement, but I’m also feeling like his only child, which I am, wondering if my father’s legacy will be passed on to someone other than me if and when she passes before me.

I love her dearly, but I am often excluded from activities on her family’s side.  I realize that a lot of this I brought on myself with never feeling truly connected to her family and moving away for many years.

——————————————>  NEXT DAY

Well computer shut off last night due to low battery.

I’m feeling a lot of pain regarding exclusion, estrangement and ostracization but I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to move into acceptance and just allow what is to be.  I can’t keep revictimizing myself by living in what if’s, what will be, and all that.  As far as who gets what and when and all that, I don’t care.  I can’t care.  For numerous reasons, but the biggest one is that it’s not an entitlement, it’s a gift and Dad’s gone.  What I wanted the most, I can’t have anymore and any of his material possessions, regardless of my emotional attachment to them and all that… well, they don’t matter to him anymore now that he’s gone to the great nothingness, so I have to realize it’s all just a memory now.  His memory will forever linger in the halls and rooms of that home and I will enjoy the memories I do have with him.  No amount of crying, pleading, bargaining or excelling will bring him back.  I, too, will someday join him into the quiet peace of nothing, but until then I will enjoy my life and try to be in the moment as much as possible because our lives are simply a quick snapshot of this universe.  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

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The Fabric of Life

A lot has happened since I blogged last…

On July 4th, the four year anniversary of my mother’s death, my father passed away, too.  It was completely unexpected and caught me off guard.  The loss of my father is certainly different than what it was when my mother passed.  My mother and I had a tumultuous relationship with ups, but mostly downs.  Addiction and mental illness took her long before she physically passed.  Through her I learned that no matter how much you love some people and want to save them… ultimately they have to want to save themselves.  I learned that no matter how much love in the world… if they don’t want to change and aren’t ready for change, they won’t.

Dad and I were estranged for about 13 years and when I reentered the picture I had a lot of trust to regain.  I completely annihilated it through my active addiction and acting out on my PTSD.  About 1/3 of the way into my current healing journey  he could see changes taking place and I believe it was enough for him to put a little faith back in me.  Over the past three years, he became my best friend.  He cheered me on.  Told me about myself when I wasn’t flying right.  We hung out and shared so many good memories together.  Up until the day he passed he was fully functional.  He was out messing with the food plots, mowing the lawn, bbq’ing and attending bonfires.  He was alive one minute… and dead the next.  Showing up at the hospital and seeing him laying there with the breathing tube still taped to his mouth and laying there lifeless was my worst nightmare.  I had cried many times prior to him passing at just the thought of him passing.  I wasn’t prepared to lose him so soon.  I miss him intensely.  So very intensely.  I am very thankful for the times we shared prior to him leaving his physical being.  It gives me peace.  I felt loved.  I felt supported and I finally knew what unconditional love was after searching for it all along.  I once said to him that I was looking for love in all the wrong places because it wasn’t in the right places.  I could have never been more wrong.  I have never known a love like his and he was the only person that had been in my life from the very start that was still in my life and actively participating.  I feel like I want to just write every detail down about him and our times we shared just to make sure I never forget, but hopefully in due time, over time, I will be able to recall each and every monumental moment that we shared.

It’s a lonely feeling not having either one of my parents left on this earth.  I cry every time I think about him for any amount of time.  Just one more hug, just one more moment of laughter, one more ride in his truck… one more everything.  But I’m really starting to understand that we are all here for only a certain amount of time and when it’s our time… it’s just our time.

i started dating a man right before Dad passed.  The day before Dad passed he went over to introduce himself and for once in my life, Dad gave a thumbs up.  He was actually impressed (his words!!!).

I’m struggling with anxiety, restlessness and depression right now.  I’m on Day 100 out of 102 regarding not using any cocaine/crack.  I’m really proud of myself and I know my father is really happy for me, too.  Where ever his energy moved on to.  I’ve been using Mary Jane to help me cope, but unfortunately that’s going to have to come to an end.  I’m using so little it’s not even registering on a test as anything but “trace amounts”.  I prefer this method of coping because it is the safest for me.  But my boyfriend is not able to deal with it, so I must find another way to cope with my emotional imbalances at this point.  I wish I wasn’t so afraid of pills but watching my mother whither away from the abuse of pills has completely jaded my views on pills.  I’m feeling a bit resentful about not being able to medicate in a safe way, but my use will trigger my boyfriend and it will be used against me if he uses because I see him allowing it to be a justification to abuse whatever he would choose to use.  I cannot carry the weight of that on my shoulders right now.  Even though it would not be my fault for him using.  Recovery is something we must own and hold ourselves accountable.  I know I can’t blame others for what I do or don’t do.  I choose to make my own decisions.  I am an adult and I accept full responsibility for my own recovery; however, due to my current state of mind, I can’t emotionally handle the added drama because of an occasional toke or three of Mary Jane.

I’m seeing a therapist, but at this point in the game.  It’s more so to vent and not so much because I need her to guide me through any type of treatment program.  I know what I’m supposed to do.  Just sometimes I need a person on the outside looking in for some guidance.  According to her, I’m pretty far along my healing journey and at this point we are just trying to wrap it all up into one big picture and move into acceptance.

I suppose at some point I do need to fully accept things for what they are and appreciate that it’s what makes me… ME.

My stepmother… she’s been like a real Mom to me my whole life.  She’s been in my corner cheering me on, even through the darkest days.  I don’t know what I would do without her.  I fear losing her.  I fear falling out of touch with my Uncles and Aunt.  I fear that I will someday be completely out of touch with my cousins other than an occasional FB like.  I’ve been overthinking things to a fault and I’ve really been trying to keep myself from doing that.  It’s a vicious game my mind plays, but with time I am confident it will get better.

We spread Dad’s ashes on Labor Day and he was reunited with Grandpa at their favorite fishing spot.  I miss you Dad.  I miss you with every breath I take (that you gave), every minute that passes and with the song of every bird that I hear, every sunset that I see, every leaf on a tree and every wave of the Bay, the ocean, the lake and as long as I live… so will you.  I am you.  I thank you for being there for me and loving me when I couldn’t love myself.  I hope you can forgive me for all the stress I put you through and all the sleepless night and I’m so sorry that Mom manipulated you the way she did.  I hate that she did that.  But through it all, you gave me two gifts that I will forever be grateful for… unconditional love and a second Mom that loves me dearly and has seen me through my darkest hours and I have no doubt will continue to do so.  Okay a little doubt, but that’s due to my own insecurities.  I love you to the moon and back and your essence is still alive within me.

You are/were the best Dad ever.  And if they don’t believe us… they can just ask us 😉

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Emotionally Disturbances

Here I am sitting in a room thinking about all kinds of things that really aren’t doing me any good.  Or perhaps they are… I remember in group they emphasized that we must feel the feelings in order to heal, but it’s so overwhelming emotionally that it’s hard to believe that it’s doing me any good.  Regardless, I do still trust in the process, although, it is taking much longer than I ever anticipated.  I doubt that I will ever be fully recovered.  It doesn’t sadden me as intensely as it once did, but it’s still disturbing.  I hate that so much of my life has been affected by something someone did to me as a child.

I do fantasize about his death.  I dream of the day I can go to his grave and finally feel peace that he is experiencing his own personal hell.  I’ve heard that anger is bad for me, but I can’t imagine forgiving him.  Ever.  I try and sometimes I can intellectualize how it might be good for me to do so, but my heart won’t let me.  My anger towards him is much more healing than forgiving him.  I don’t think all acts are forgivable.  Somethings in life are simply unacceptable.

I think about Mom frequently.  Although, I can look at photos of her now without completely falling apart.  I miss her.  She used to love to brush my hair, even as an adult… 🙂  I guess it’s true that to our parents we will always be their children… and although we become adults, they will still want to nurture and care for us, at times, like they did when we were children.  It makes for good memories.

I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m in thriving mode yet with this sexual abuse history of mine.  But I am beyond victim.  I am a survivor.  So that in itself is something to celebrate.  I dream of the day that what has happened to me won’t affect me as deeply as it still does, but something tells me, there will always be moments in time where I just have to cry and feel what I’m feeling.  I won’t ever be able to forget.

I’ve been spending time away from home just to change the scenery a bit and give myself some space and a different perspective.  Staring at the same four walls sometimes just makes my head spin.  I’m free to roam, but sometimes I choose to isolate.  Once in a while I’m seeking solitude… but mostly it’s isolation.  I have a hard time trusting these days.

On a positive note, I am here to “live to tell”.  My testimony is powerful and I know the power of being able to share it and how someone else knowing they are not alone is very healing in itself.  I witnessed that power in group settings for my counseling.  I, all of a sudden, didn’t feel so crazy anymore.


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Whoa… Life Certainly Does Happen

In this moment.  I can feel my head pounding.  I can hear the keys on the keyboard.  I hear the television in the living room.  Outside the window the wind is making a rustle.  My right leg is bent over my left leg.  I feel the arm of the chair pressed against my leg.  My heart feels tight.  My eyes feel heavy.  Ahhh.  The feelings of betrayed trust.

Needed a moment to get in the moment.

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And so the world turns…

Not a lot to report on my end of the spectrum.  Been learning to deal with boredom in more healthy ways.  Still feels a little odd sometimes just sitting at home on the weekend doing nothing, but it sure does beat the “excitement” of drugs and alcohol.

Starting dating someone.  We shall see how the tides of time play out.. 

I live in the moment.  And right now, I am sitting here pondering my life and what’s next.  For some, living in the moment would seem insane.  They have five year, ten year, life time plans and me… well I’m finally stepping out of the past and into the moment.  Not even sure that I want to mess with a good thing 😉  Although, I do know that as a responsible adult, I do need to realistically start planning my future.  Having some direction towards something long lasting.  But for now, I will celebrate my ability to leave my past where it belongs… in the past.

I will never forget it.  It’s shaped me into who I have become.

But I won’t continue to relive it over and over again like I did for so long.

Thankful.  Blessed.


Freedom of Choice – Victim vs. Survivor

“Being a friend to yourself means believing and treating yourself in ways that are consistent with your belief that although we are victimized in life, being the victim is a free choice. We are free to choose.”

Sana Johnson-Quijada MD


My Life

Lost and misguided

Been there.

Did it.

Tried it.

Cried about it,

Lied about it,

Felt pain about it,

Beat around the bush about it.

Rationalized it.

Falsified it.

Satisfied it.

Crucified for it.




And yes, to few… Accepted.

Gained perspective.


Submitted to it.

Admitted to it.

Committed to it.

A new page has opened for me.

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“I AM”

I AM sincere and loyal.

I WONDER if I will ever get married and what my life will be like in ten years from now.

I HEAR dreams whispering and thoughts creeping.

I SEE love and hope.

I AM sincere and loyal.


I PRETEND to be okay when I’m not.

I FEEL blessed.

I TOUCH the keys of the keyboard.

I CRY when I think about the relationship my mother and I never had.

I AM sincere and loyal.


I UNDERSTAND that everyone takes their own journey.

I SAY that recovery is hard, but it’s worth it.

I DREAM of a true love some day.

I TRY to give 100% on every task I take on.

I HOPE that someday I will be able to forgive my mother… fully and completely.

I AM sincere and loyal.


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