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Archive for the ‘Alcoholic Home Life’ Category

Distorted reality – a very influential situation for me and has been all my life.

My parents distorted my reality by making me (the child) believe that my sexual abuse was made up. That was 1978 but the distortion began way before then, when I was lead to believe that the alcoholic didn’t have a drinking problem.

Slowly slowly they chipped away at the block (my mind) until I started to think something was wrong with me.  I thought I was like my schizophrenic grandmother, I had a mental illness and nobody told me otherwise.

I buried what happened to me because I had no way of processing it, no validation, no support and no love and acceptance. I was simply defective.

Move forward 15 years where I met a sex addict.  He told me all sorts of distortions and when I questioned them my thoughts were dismissed as unreasonable. I began to put to him that something was wrong with me and he didn’t argue with that.

Move forward another 15 years where I’m working in a workplace that hushes truth and rewards bad behaviour to pacify employees.

My head is spinning so fast, I don’t understand what is happening here – I question my reality time and time again as I do not believe in myself. Am I sane, why are they not listening to me, something must be wrong with me, why do they not address the problems here….

How do I right this in my mind to stop the spinning. Over and over again it goes until I am overwhelmed with exhaustion and confusion. It is easier to just play the game of distortion and all will be well.

But it won’t be “well”.  it is time to take a stand, to stand up to the manipulator who keeps me in my position using accolades, to stand up to the injustice and distortion by simply walking away and saying “no more”.

I am scared, worried, frightened and beating myself up emotionally – rewind 40 years.

R.C

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Y’know what’s hard and has always been hard? Seeing everyone making plans for New Years Eve. Walking their dogs early, buying up big on food and alcohol, buying nice clothing to wear, their excitement, the crowds, the fireworks and the “Happy New Year” texts at midnight.

Growing up I was never really allowed out to celebrate with everyone else. Everyone was out partying and I was home with my parents listening to it all and feeling left out and alone.

As I got older sure I went out with people to parties or sat with friends but I was never really happy. It was never what it was cracked up to be. I was always miserable because in the back of my mind I was living with a problem, I was living with active sex addiction and it was hard. All I wanted was for it to stop and my life would be better (Step 1 in the 12 Steps to recovery).

For years I lived with emotional pain and suffering, living as mentally ill because I was treated as such and moulding myself into that label.

When living with active sex addiction in my life there was always some sort of drama, an incident which caused me pain and emotional suffering.

There is an enormous amount of New Years Eve baggage for me. I really don’t care for New Years Eve, I’d rather not be reminded of it and as much as I try to have a nice time now (active sex addiction is no longer in my life) I still feel sad, empty and lonely. I’d rather not celebrate it, I’d rather push it to the back of my mind and pretend it’s not there. I cannot wait for it to be over so I can move on with my life.

I can’t say I’ve met many people who feel this way on New Years Eve, perhaps it’s just me and I am truly alone here.

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I am feeling lonely and depressed tonight.

Let’s look at those feelings for a moment.

Within myself I can feel emptiness, anxiousness, fatigue, pain and numbness like I’m just going through the motions. Tears could break through any moment now.

What could the cause be?

It could relate to my long term use of the antidepressant Efexor XR/Venlafaxine Hydrochloride which is known to cause fatigue, menstrual cycle upsets (that can obviously set off other feelings), anxiety and somnolence among other things.

Or it could be from the trigger I received last week surrounding betrayal and deceit the result of which I have felt numb, empty, dead as a door nail and restless ever since.

It’s very hard to distinguish if I am reacting to a past trauma or suffering from a medicinal side effect given I can tick both boxes.

My bet is on the Efexor XR because of the joint pain and fatigue.

I think it’s time to taper off the Efexor XR so I can finally hit the nail on the head regarding the root cause.

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Hiding from me what you do on your computer late at night continues to reinforce the message I received in childhood that I am not safe, things are not as they seem and what I want is of no consequence.

My grief is so deep. I am dirt to you.

You continue to over power me,  to control and win regardless of what I ask of you.

As long as my environment is not safe I will continue to recoil in fear.

I am an adult trapped in childhood trauma and I trust no-one but myself.

Nobody understands…..

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I figured out today that air from a fan or air conditioner directly blowing on me  triggers an anxiety attack.

This explains why when at a recent meeting I dissociated when the upright fan was continually blowing air my way. It was exactly the same fan we had at home when I was young.

Figuring out why this happens to me is the next piece of the puzzle.

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I have lived with the diseases of sexaholism, codependency and alcoholism for nearly 40 years.

They have broken me many times and brought me to despair.

Sometimes it gets so tiring fighting off these diseases in my life.

They will do what they can to show me I am worthless and useless.

Many times I feel I can’t go on living but my human spirit continues to keep the blood pumping through my veins.

I do not know why I am allowed to wake up and face a new day, why I am not simply taken peacefully in my sleep.

Today I ask the darkness to swallow me up for I do not wish to see tomorrow’s light.

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When I was a young girl I was rarely allowed to do what I wanted.  I wasn’t asked what I thought or needed, I was simply told how it was going to be.

I often begged, cried and screamed for someone to hear me but nobody ever did.

I robotically did what I was told because if I didn’t, I was punished with beatings and solitude.

My mum said I was a trouble maker, stupid, I’d never get anywhere in life, a child, ignorant, know it all, an idiot and hopeless.

My room became my safe haven, my place to be left alone.  Nobody could get me in there, say bad things to me or order me around. I would sit in my room and create my own world that was safe, loving and full of fun. I was worthy, beautiful and popular in my room.

My self worth was destroyed and I tried to get some love very young in life by firstly offering myself to my father, then later latching on to boys and faking injuries so I’d be noticed.

I grew up as a people pleaser with a inner longing to be heard and considered worthy by someone.

I chose a man who was an only child, who unknowingly re-inforced my lack of worth through his deceit, contol and sex addiction.

I’m a follower and a dreamer (of course), stuck in a cycle destined for misery.

I’m back in my room with a soothing hand stroking my hair.  My soul screams “when will I be important to someone, when will they hear me?”

“It will be OK” says God, “I am here and you matter to me”.

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