***Traumas. Wounds. Mishaps. Poor decisions. More Traumas. Disassociations. Disconnections. Fear. Loathing. Anger. Sadness. Deep depression.***
My first 22 years felt like a revolving door of all of these emotions swirling overhead and chasing me in circles. It was a dark time, the beginning of my life. I don’t have many good memories except some fond moments from my early childhood with grandparents, aunts, and an uncle.
It was a load to carry. I was the youngest of three kids in a household set ablaze many evenings by alcohol-fueled fighting between my parents. It was chaos, violent. It was unpredictable. It hurt me to my very core because I was alone, desperate to drown out the noise, the pain, the fear. Most of those evenings ended when I was able to bury my small brown haired head under a mountain of stuffed animals, plug my ears, rock my body in an attempt to soothe and cry until I fell asleep. It was a horrible feeling and extremely Traumatic. I’ve spent much of my life either numbing or trying to unearth the trapped nodules of pain deep in my core so I can heal once and for all. Thankfully, today, I’m working on the latter.
I came from an “upstanding” family. The family name was attached to political office and businesses which at the time felt like a version of “golden” handcuffs — substitute wrong “job” with “family.” I couldn’t reveal to a soul what was going on inside my home. As a vulnerable and shy 10-year old, I was very lonely, scared and had developed some deep disassociations. There was a foreboding that lodged in my mental and physical states. I would describe the feeling as grey, damp, heavy, shaming. It was f*cking awful. I suspect I’ll forever have PTSD to some degree. And I associate the horrible dysfunction going on in my life at that time with high school. My friends at that time had no idea what was going on with me. I never confided in them. My mental state was pretty dark at the time, and I didn’t dare try to share. I remember being extremely mad at my friends for not recognizing I wasn’t ok and helping me.
I think that’s about all I can bare this morning so more to my basic discovery on Day 114…
I’m very proud of my resiliency and ability to recreate a life that I love and where I, most of the time, feel no shame…until…I open flipping FB! The power of social media floors me! Not always, but often, I’m faced with the disconnect. For a long while, I thought I could put up with the odd pang. Lately, it just brings back too many bad memories. I know this is why I drank. And this is what is hard about social networks. There are many parts I enjoy, but it’s at a cost. Too high a price I’m beginning to think. And how silly. Why don’t I just sign off? I hold the key. But is that just running from my pain instead of realizing I have more work to do? Can I ever truly overcome the heaviness of my childhood? I’d prefer to let it rest and live in the present.
I wonder what it is like for others? Do you feel this way too?