Writer's Block

Holy Toledo! 2014?! The last time I wrote was 2014!! This absolutely makes a mountain of sense.

Let's rewind and take a look at the past to understand the present. After that last post I had a huge life heartbreak. Clearly, based on my last post (which I have chosen to keep up-and all old posts will remain up to reflect the process) I looked like I had a handle on my life-hahahhahahahahhahahhahaha.

Life plans I had made fell through. I thought I was going to be able to escape 'dealing with' the past by continuing my adventures elsewhere. I thought in my heart that life really couldn't get much worse than 2013, but then 2014 andddd 2015 unfolded. YOU CANNOT RUN FROM GRIEF, but I surely did try.

"Oh Yes, the past can hurt.  But the way I see it you can either run from it or learn from it".-The Lion King, Walt Disney

Let's talk about the running bit. I ran into anything that would distract me from the pain. This includes men, drugs, 'love', alcohol, anti-depressants, and food. My heart broke and I stopped loving myself. Losing someone else is hard but losing yourself is by far the most heartbreaking experience one will ever experience. Before we get to the learning bit, I will acknowledge that I looked death in the eye and choose to keep living.

Let's talk about the 'learning' bit. Here's the thing, some really big and really heart breaking events occurred, but nearing the end of 2015 I decided life is how your react to it. I knew I had a lot of healing to do and if I didn't get a handle on the deep and dark grief I was enduring who knows how far down the rabbit hole I was going to go (and I was already in a labyrinth of darkness).

I started to pray. What or who was I praying to? At first, anything or anyone. I prayed life would start making sense in October 2015. By November 2015 I met my boyfriend and we both really challenged each other to think about our belief systems. Talk about listening! I asked and HE answered. The first year of our relationship was a bit rocky because of my resistance. I had left the church, God, and everything else holy so long ago that it felt hypocritical of me to ever consider returning. So I prayed. I prayed to whoever was listening to help us figure out a common ground. The first time I entered his church I thought I might burn to the ground from all the poor choices I had made (spoiler alert- I did not). I remember feeling very overwhelmed by my own energy but eventually this subsided. For a long time he would go to church without me because I thought the whole thing was weird. I knew that at some point we'd really have to figure out where we stood on the whole 'faith' business. Meanwhile, I kept praying to something.

I have always known that drugs/alcohol directly impact my mental health. Unless I am medicated by pills I can't have drinks like other people seem to be able to. January 1, 2016 I stopped taking my anti-depressant pills to really dive into myself, truly face myself, and if see if I was actually mentally ill. I had a few more fun nights with alcohol, but life threatening next days. On August 19, 2016 I took a pledge to myself to sobriety. This was when the real growth began. No bandaids for when you have a bad day, or someone hits a trigger; just you and life. My outlet now is God and I thank Him for helping me get here.

It's been over 4 months sober and I'm sure this is my life path. I've taken a solo trip to Europe (to Ireland! and remained sober). I have submitted to His plans. I don't live in fear and I'm not depressed. I feel happier and more creative then I have in many many years. Though I have a lot more work to do and I'm no where near having it figured out I can honestly say I am grateful for every heart break, experience and trauma I have endured. I am thankful for those who have stuck by me while I was having a hard time. I am truly and deeply sorry to anyone I hurt while hurting. But most of all, I am so so excited about being alive and helping other people heal their hearts.

God helps those who help themselves. Let your first step to simply be a prayer asking for help.

New Beginnings

I was thinking of letting my blog end. I started it 2? 3? years ago, and I felt the person that began this blog is not the person I am today. Sure, I still like all the same things (e.g., reading, coffee, baking, crafts, animals), but my outlook based off life experiences has changed so much. I left on a big adventure to another country in hopes to gain my education. At the time that I left I had a crippling anxiety and depression problem. You hear about those kind of things but you think they happen to other people. Nope. I had it, and I had it bad. I won't bore you with the details but it's exactly how it's described in textbooks. To give you one example of how bad my anxiety was when I arrived on my adventure I was to scared to drive down one street (approximately 3 miles) to get to school, so I got up extra early for the first month to walk to school. I got the help I needed and I can't say I am "better", but I know how to deal with myself better. I encourage you to seek help if you need it. I think it takes more strength to admit weakness then pretending you're okay when you are not. Anxiety and depression is a lifelong battle and you learn to take it minute by minute.

Where I am at today is very different than two years ago. Facing my fears and going to some dark places in my soul helped me become who I am today. I was always afraid of someone I loved dying, being alone or failing. However, I survived death. I was alone in a strange country with a handful of friends, and I fell MANY time often feeling inadequate. I found it really is true that you only fail when you admit defeat and you stay down. I have learned to live without a plan and accept life as it comes. I am living in the present, I do not get overly excited about the future because I know it is uncertain and I don't get as depressed about the past; it's gone. 

As for love, I am over concerning myself with it. I am sure it exists and it will happen one day for me, but in the meantime I am living this awesome adventure we call life. I learned to trust my gut and to follow my heart. I still feel bad about those who I hurt, but it was for the best at the time. I have made mistakes and had boys hurt me. I learned that sex does not equal love and that as woman we hold all the power (so remember that ladies). 

I want to change the style of my blog, but not without an explanation of why. I want it to be happy, upbeat and a reflection of my current life. I hope it inspires anyone to take a leap of faith to the unknown and if you "fail" it is only a step in your journey. Oh, and keep your friends that you make your family close because those people will help you up on your darkest of days. 

 

To new beginnings, to the future, to happiness, and to my friends I call family. With all my heart I thank you for being so wonderful and true. I wouldn't be where I am today without you all.

The Unspoken Goodbye

It's been a while since I posted. I knew what I had wanted to post, but I didn't have the words to describe the feeling that I wanted to convey. The Indian summer ended up being just that, a longer than usual warmness in my heart. It left quicker than snow falling to the ground when the cold came into my life, which painfully left pieces scattered behind. It took me a bit to reestablish my footing after so much loss. The losses felt in 2013 were none which were expected. No one prepares you for how death will feel or change your life. It's one of those changes that are indescribable and so unique to each person and each situation. I know that at 9:30 on March 6, 2013 my world changed forever and whether the boy wants to admit it or own up to it-or not; the boy spoke the words that changed my world forever.

No matter how hard I try to shake this memory it will always be a part of me...missed calls at a later hour. Finally, when I called the boy back he spoke those earth shattering words... "I don't know how to tell you this *LONG PAUSE* your dad is dead."

I may never fully understand why you were the one who was to be in my life to tell me such words, or to stand beside me on what was possibly one of the most difficult days of my existence if you were to leave quicker than my breath on a cold morning. I don't understand and it was months of wondering on top of my already heavy heart what could possess someone to leave someone they love in moments needed the most. I know it's impossible to know what you would do in a situation, but in a role-reversal; I would never leave you.

I played over the words you spoke up until the last conversation many times to the point of exhaustion. To the point of insanity. I will never understand but I have stopped trying to understand.

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& NOW on dreams and goodbyes 

Considered the father of psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) revolutionizes the study of dreams with his work The Interpretation Of Dreams.Freud begins to analyze dreams in order to understand aspects of personality as they relate to pathology.  He believes that nothing you do occurs by chance; every action and thought is motivated by your unconscious at some level. In order to live in a civilized society, you have a tendency to hold back our urges and repress our impulses. However, these urges and impulses must be released in some way; they have a way of coming to the surface in disguised forms. 

One way these urges and impulses are released is through your dreams. Because the content of the unconscious may be extremely disturbing or harmful, Freud believes that the unconscious expresses itself in a symbolic language.

Alas, my dream of the unspoken words:

I was back in Thunder Bay for the end of summer. I was at a friends camp (however in dreams nothing makes logical sense and the camp actually belonged to my grandfather in my actual life). Strangely, only my NY friends were in Thunder Bay with me and my Thunder Bay friends were no where to be found. I recall the friend who owned the camp had all her friends out. One of them was my Indian Summer. I spent most of that evening with my speech friends and we lived in perfect ignorant harmony ignoring one another. 

He stayed longer than expected and when he was still there the following day I decided my words could not be held inside any longer. I needed to talk to him.

I asked him if I could please talk to him for a minute as he was surrounded with girls. He said no. I lingered knowing I needed to talk to him. I finally begged in front of perfect strangers to "please talk to me if you ever loved me." He agreed to give me one minute of his time.

I knew I only had a minute alone with him and so I summed up my confusion into a statement "How could you tell me I was the girl of your dreams, the girl you loved, your everything to ignore me the next day and never talk to me again." His response failed to answer the question, but place all blame of our failed relationship and my wrong doings on me. My response was similar to "at least I am and have been sorry for what happened-you have yet to apologize for what you did." At that moment many girls surrounded him and began talking for him and I knew the conversation had ended. They told me he would be taken care of by someone better than me and I wished them well.

I didn't leave immediately, I told him this "this isn't you and this wasn't the you I dated. I came to you to clear the air and to make amends because I have a good heart and I'm a good person. I hope when you finally realize what you have done my heart will be big enough to forgive you." With that they all laughed at me.

I began walking away but realized I had one more big thing that needed to be said. I walked up to him and whispered in his ear "by the way, I'm dating someone new and this was our goodbye."

                                                 

Your soul is still here,
I felt it with me today.
Thump, thump; goes my heart.

Those feelings of mine,

I sent them in a letter,

Silence screams loudest.

Home is in your arms,

It is not a location,

Wait until we meet.

Darling your with me, always around me, only love; only love.

Here, is my story. Be gentle.

Growing up in a home with addiction is one that is rarely spoken of. The fact is, it is extremely shameful growing up in an environment where the person, your hero, doesn’t love themselves. When a parent suffers from an addiction and underlying depression leads them to love you in the best way that they can, but hardly enough to fulfill your needs.

Growing up in a home with addiction is full of uncertainty. It is impossible to predict what each day will bring, which causes children to develop anxiety and depression. You’re sad that you have any control of your environment, and that no matter how hard you try the person you love doesn’t know how to love themselves. Your parent can’t see the greatness that you see in them. You watch their struggle. You try to cheer them on and be their brightest star; even though each day their pain kills you silently. You can’t show it because the addict already has enough to feel sad about. You paint a face where no one could even imagine the pain you feel once you leave school, work, etc. In fact, when you finally tell your closest friend about your life they have a hard time believing you. You learn to act in such a way that everyone thinks you have the perfect life. BUT you don’t.

You live a life where you either hate the addict, or you try to prove yourself to them. You try to be the very best at whatever you do so that maybe your feeble attempts at being perfect will make them realize they have succeeded. Ultimately you are the one who feels bad because no matter what level of perfection you aim to meet (and you do) you don’t win their attention, approval or love. As children you don’t understand it’s them not you.

We all develop coping styles to make it through each day. Times where we are frustrated with their behavior we may lash out. We may yell at them and tell them we hate them. Truthfully we don’t. We don’t hate them at all. We love them so much it hurts us. We hate their addiction. We immediately feel regret after showing our real feelings about their addiction and try to patch up our “ugly” feelings.

We have learned that “happy” is the best way to be. Happy doesn’t get questioned by teachers, or other adults who may wonder about our home lives. Feeling sad, or angry is put into a category of “bad”. We learn to push those feeings aside because we know they are unrecognized and scolded.

Growing up in a home with addition sucks! You lose your childhood. You realize quickly that you are taking care of your parent, and that they don’t take care of you. You feel broken inside. You begin to get used to a life of chaos. You worry every single day that they will decide to end their life, or based on their decisions life should take them away from you. AND realistically one of three things will happen, they will kill themselves, life will kill them from their abuse, or they will get better.

In my situation, my dad did not win his battle. WE lost. There were many stages to the grief of an addict. The first feeling I felt was the one I explained above. The second stage or feeling was anger. INTENSE anger. I was so angry I couldn’t be around him without every “bad” feeling I ever felt raging inside of me. I let him know in every situation possible how much I hated him. I felt no remorse for the anger I felt. 

The third stage I felt was bargaining. I was willing to change anything in my life for the addict to change himself. I thought if I forgave him for his inability to love the child that I was, and learn to accept him for the person that he was, then things might change. If nothing else I hoped to never have regrets. Life gives you chances to heal but it is up to you to acknowledge these opportunities and take them. After dad’s second near death experience we developed the closest relationship of our lives. We became best friends. 

The fourth stage I felt was major depression or sadness. The darkness that I experienced was my own. Only one person witnessed the pain I felt. I blocked everyone else out. J.K. Rowling compared depression to the dementors in Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling described the dementors as She describes this emotional state as the "absence of being able to envisage that you will ever be cheerful again. The absence of hope. That very deadened feeling, which is so very different from feeling sad." I felt worse then that explanation. Not even my own family knew it.

I realized eventually that his love and acceptance wasn’t coming. He wouldn’t save me from my pain. I stopped looking for him to give me the love I needed. I learned how to love myself even if he didn’t love himself or me the way I wanted him to. It started slow, but eventually we hung out all the time and talked every night. He still drank every day. The difference was within me. I was beginning to accept his illness. I would have loved him to change and live a long happy life. For whatever reason it was not in this life’s plan. I learned patience and honesty. I was able to tell him when I was disappointed in him and also continue to love him. He was able to see the pain his drinking caused by my own suffering and depression. He knew he could tell me anything and I wouldn’t judge him, but offer him my open opinion. For better or worse I stopped trying to change him. I realized that if you love someone, then you love him or her exactly the way they are. This means even if they aren’t who you want them to be you love them faults and all. You accept all of them.

Since this has occurred, he has passed. I truthfully believe that I had to let go of him before his soul could pass on. I consciously made the decision that I understood he was not happy here and that no matter where he had to go I wanted him to go where he would be happy, even if it meant I would be sad; that’s where I wanted him to be.

Days before his death I dreamt of a black crow being electrocuted. In a world where logic trumps emotions and spirituality this would have been overlooked. I consciously told someone about the dream and accepted the reality. The day my father passed away I was walking to school with the sun on my face and I knew. It was 8:10 in the morning. I had a very strong feeling that he would be taken from me soon. At 8:15 pm I texted someone close to me that I thought he was going to pass. At 9:30 pm I received a call from the same person I spoke with earlier that he had passed away. I cried until my tears wouldn’t come out. I realized everything that we had fought for was over. The fight was over. We lost.

Nothing you read, or people you speak with will prepare you for losing a parent. It is an inevitable part of life for the majority of us. When addiction is involved it adds another dimension. You wonder what your role in life is without them. You have only known how to take care of them. After they pass it’s almost as if you are recreating yourself.

In my situation I coped by hiding my emotions with schooling, and perfection. It was a blessing and a curse. I am and will continue to be successful, however I need to do everything for myself and not to cover up pain. I don’t know if I’ll be 100% “okay” but I fight every single day for myself and for others like me. I fight so that other children know that if they can learn to believe in themselves like I have, then they will succeed. I take healthy choices everyday, and learn to enjoy the simple things. Strategies that I have found helpful include counseling, music, writing, painting, and exercising.

There will always be a crack where that missing piece is, but with time and self-acceptance it can be a learning tool. I know when I do decide to have children that I will be the best mom possible. I also know that I won’t be the statistic and marry someone like my father. I have a choice and so do you. We have the choice to break the cycle, even if each step of the way is uncomfortable. If you take anything away from reading this, I hope you know that you are not alone. It does get easier, but it requires you, the child of the addict to do a lot of work. It will be painful, dark and scary but I promise you it will be worth it. 

**I hope you learn to allow yourself to feel every emotion “good” or “bad”. I hope you seek counseling and not view it as weakness. I hope you follow your dreams. Lastly, I hope you challenge yourself everyday to break the cycle of abuse and addiction. If I have helped one person through their battle then I feel blessed.

References I found useful:

After The Tears-Jane Middleton
ACOA-Janet Woititz