Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Codependency’ Category

I’m hated in my own home and the sexaholic has to get away from me.

So, if I had to write a personal’s advertisement, what would I say about myself?

“I’m a good kind person with a good heart. I’m giving and genuine, easy-going and down to earth.  I cook, clean, wash clothes and dishes and go to work.

I enjoy watching TV, movies and going to cafe’s. I like walking and talking together, reading, animals, long drives and the beach.

I like cooking traditional Italian meals, drawing, pottery, sewing and beading.  I potter in the garden and love warm weather.

I love walking my dogs, swimming, shopping and surfing the internet.

I am quiet natured and enjoy current music and meditation.

I like going on holidays to the bush and the beach.

I enjoy psychology, catching up with friends, old wares, writing and going to op shops hunting for bargains.”

I think I’m a pretty good person.

How would you write your personal’s ad?

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

The inner child feels a lot of  pain and confusion today.

There is a nagging urge to make everything better, but how?

She is overwhelmed with everyone’s problems, she cannot cope.

She cannot fix everything, it is all too much.

Heavy chested, she has failed again.

She wants to run away and hide where nobody can find her;  to be free.

She hangs her head, hoping nobody will notice her.

There is something lurking in the shadows of her soul.

A very subtle guilt and shame nags at her insides.

It has nothing to do with today’s complexities.

A deep sorrowful groan is biding it’s time, waiting to surface.

She knows it is for her dad.  She is sorry she made him drink again.

She will try to do better next time.

Read Full Post »

There was a time in my life where I could not feel any hope. I had completely forgotten what hope felt like.  Today I am recognising that hope has returned to me.

I am learning to love in a different way, to love a person for who they are, not what they do.  I am feeling a more deeper, grounded, accepting love. It has been a very slow process however the results are worth the wait.

For too long I put my life on hold waiting for others to save me, change their ways and make me happy.  In my eyes, “they” were the problem.  Now I acknowledge that I am the only one who has the power to change myself.  I have had to step forward regardless of what others do or do not do or my life will keep passing me by.

I am told to get myself out of denial but for today I cannot for I know my patner tries, he works his Program and is at a different place in his recovery than I am.  I continue to carry the full load alone in the hope that one day he will be considerate of me, acknowledge all the things I do and be willing to share the load equally with me as is done in a healthy partnership.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings
the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That
could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet,
never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

– Emily Dickinson.

Read Full Post »

There’s a hole in my bucket dear Liza dear Liza, there’s a hole in my bucket dear Liza, a hole”.

My grandmother used to sing that children’s song when I was young but little did I know I would have a hole in my bucket (my soul) when I grew up because my caregivers were so focussed on each other and my father’s alcoholism they were emotionally unavailable to me.

As a result I developed coping mechanisms, ways to help me feel loved, wanted and accepted for who I am.  I tried to fill the gaping  hole in my soul  the only way I knew how as a child, by self medicating through fantasy and role-playing.

In essence, I stuck a band aid over my hole when I needed love and comforting.

Band aid’s eventually wear thin and get replaced with new ones, sometimes bigger and stronger.

I still carry my band aid close to my chest but it has served little purpose except to temporarily patch up my underlying problem – pain, loneliness and an inner longing to be loved, accepted and wanted by my family. 

I can scream, rant and rave that life’s not fair but it won’t change the fact that I cannot go back to my childhood to ask my caregivers to meet my un-met needs.

It is now up to me to fill the hole in my soul by reaching out to a power greater than myself to provide me with the love and acceptance denied of me in childhood.

I can do this by reading 12 Step and self-help literature, attending 12 Step meetings, talking to other members and/or attending counselling.

As I watch a few grains of yellow sand fall into my bucket I am reminded of what a slow process this journey is and every now and again the band aid comes away and I am reminded of the deep despair I carry within.

Read Full Post »

When I was young I was pretty good at drawing birds and dogs.  My dad used to compliment me all the time.  Today I can’t draw for peanuts!  I try and try to get my talent back but it’s gone.  What the hell is wrong with me?

I Wanna Go Home!

I have no patience yet expect to produce masterpieces.  All I seem to come up with is child like pictures with no definition.  I have so many colours in my head but am unable to express them in an artistic ADULT way.

It’s so frustrating!  I so badly want to be good at something.  I have been desperately trying to find something I’m talented at.  I’m dabbling in all kinds of arts and crafts but where is my brilliance?

Perhaps I am seeking the approval of someone and pushing a lost cause or maybe I desperately want admiration from the outside world?  Am I setting myself up for failure by setting my sights too high (self sabotage)? These are things I need to consider in-depth.

I’m really down on myself today.  I’m having a pity party and I want to go home.  It’s safer at home, there are no meaningful responsibilities there.  Mum and dad will make all the decisions for me, cook and clean and earn the money.  I long for the time when all I have to worry about is taking out the garbage.

I wanna go home, please let me go home!

 

Read Full Post »

There is nobody here to share my sorrow

There is nobody here to cut the ball and chain of my responsibilities, my chores

To allow me to run and play like a carefree child, to think of happy things and make daisy chains in the sun

When will someone hear my cry?

You walk away and leave me alone to deal with my internal sadness, you desert me

Who is here to soothe my pain, to love me and tell me it will be all right?

Only God, but Dad said God does not exist

So I am alone

I get tired of fighting for acceptance, to be heard, to be understood and to be unconditionally loved

But most of all I get tired of fighting to be considered, to be thought of and cared for

You cannot look at me, you stare away or down at the ground

You no longer care what happens, you are not interested in my words unless they are happy ones

I am an adult yes, but I am still a lonely child

It’s deja vu, its history repeating itself.

Read Full Post »

I learned very young to deny my reality, to wish and minimise it away because I didn’t know how to deal with what was put in front of me, the pain was too great for a child to bear on her own.

“Mum – is dad drunk again?  No dear, he’s just sick today.  But mum, he’s swaying all over the place, he smells like beer, he’s angry again?  No he’s sick, don’t worry about it, just get to bloody sleep!”

Oh OK then, it’s not how I see it, I must be wrong, I’m all right, there is no problem, I’m safe.

Move forward twenty years.  “Mum, I don’t understand why my boyfriend never has any money.  I pay for everything, he works but I never see a cent of it?  Well dear, he’s probably got a lot of expenses, things must be hard for him, don’t let those things get you down.”

You can see from the above now ingrained minimising and denying my reality is.  I learned to do it from a very young age so come adulthood, I was faced with situations that were harmful to me but minimised and denied what was in front of me through habit.  I continued to protect myself from my reality as I had learned so well to do as a child.

I continue to be skeptical of sexaholism being apparent in my family of origin.  My father, my grandfather and my great-grandfather had affairs during their marriage and my mum’s father had sexual abuse issues with women and children – so what right?  Affairs are normal aren’t they?  Men think of only one thing don’t they?  That’s what my mum told me.  It was just bad luck I picked a sexaholic as a partner wasn’t it?  When dad whispers to my recovering partner he has three women on the go at once and feels like he’s struck gold why do I still not see that he is a sexaholic?  I feel so naive.  Family history and past events are slapping me right in the face but I refuse to accept that evidence.

I think for me to believe it I need for him to admit he is a sexaholic.  I need to hear the whole kit and caboodle.  I need to hear it from the horse’s mouth, I need to hear him say he has a problem and he needs help.  Trouble is, he thinks multiple partners are “gold” so I doubt I’ll be receiving any admissions from him in the near future.

I”ve discussed him attending a 12 Step Program for sexaholics before but he gets so anxious at any suggestion of it.  You see, he too has spent years denying and minimising his reality but with the added factor of alcohol helping to numb his pain.

On writing this post I’ve had a light bulb moment.  In securing my father’s admittance to his sexaholism it’s quite possible I’m looking for someone to blame for me attracting a sexaholic partner later in life and I’m needing my father to validate my reality as I see it.

 I can see I still have a lot of work to do on trusting myself.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: