Learning Silence

 Truth

Pain teaches us.  Pain makes us transform. But pain is never something we experience gleefully.  I certainly don't.  Not deep emotional, gut wrenching pain, the pain of cruelty, rejection, or loss and grief.  I've endured them all to what feels like tenfold.  

I grew up in chaos, afraid 98% of the time, because my Mother was a narcissist, unstable, extremely unhappy, mean, and sometimes just plain viscous.  She seemed to take pleasure in turning people against one another. 

 I hid in my brother's closet throughout my childhood - it was my safe haven.  The rest of the time when my little mind didn't just blackout what I couldn't process, I was in that closet, loving the blackness - playing make-believe.  I was so much better than my other reality of trying to cope with the insanity of trying to be the absolute best little girl in the whole wide world - oh, but I had to be better if you will --- perfect even.  I had to clean perfect, to be silent perfect, walk with the books on my head for modeling perfect, my hair had to do perfect, I had to not need nor want her - perfect, not get hurt perfect, or get in her way perfect... 

Way to much for any little girl, and you know what?  I still have that horrible anxiety inside myself -- that I am the problem, and I will always be - and have to be as perfect as I can.  

Anxiety and fear are what's produced with these two aspects in conjunction. 

Terror for such a little mind. 

Absolute terror.  

I'm always too much. Always just a bit too edgy, always saying more than I need, and getting on people's last nerve. That's my feelings inside. Well, on a not so good day. 

I've endured some kind of separation from other folks - all my life. You see, not bonding with your Mother - leaves a huge gaping hole in your heart.  A hole that never seems to come close to being fulfilled.  There's always that deep inner sense of not belonging, anywhere.  Not to this life even, or being able to be loved, needed, wanted, nor accepted because you're defective.  

So guess what happens? Oh I'll bet you can imagine. 

Those of us who had these kinds of Motherless experiences, we all know.  

We draw unto ourselves, and even after years and years of therapy --  I still find myself choosing exact replica's of what produced my primary wounds.  I choose more rejection, more cruelty, more non-acceptance, more expectations that no once could fulfill.  More emotionally unavailable people who have no problem telling us "you're the problem" and you will always end up alone.  I can't seem to stop choosing partners and often friends, out of my primary wound. 

Thank God, this is getting better, the further away I get from addiction.

My entire life sometimes seems like a never-ending trickle, tsunami, trickle, flood, and so on, of pain.  I'm tired. 

I'm tired and I'm fighting (so to speak) the battle for my life with this damned addiction.  It haunts me daily.... whispering in my soul, "Ah... Gina just once more...."  It's so insidious, so nasty, and so relentless.  I have never in my life came up against something so powerful as to make me want to lie to myself, other people I love, and that love me.  It's PURE INSANITY.

 

 Thus the voice of Addiction at it's most powerful. "Oh, but let me help you not feel." 

Seriously. From a wee age of 14 this was my quest in life.  

And people want to judge something they don't, and cannot understand. They want to blame because they cannot comprehend the power, the force in which these chemicals have on our lives, those of us who've been bedeviled with it.

I sat here last night, and craved it's company, as I hurt on multiple levels, emotionally, spiritually, and physically - knowing I made bad choices earlier in the day.  Addiction does not just affect one single area of the addicts life, no -- the compulsions and impulsive behaviors are a whole life's challenge that we deal with, daily.  Dealing with the whole psyche is an ordeal in itself as one try's to make some sort of peace with their life.

Those of us who did not attach as children have a life long challenge, despite the millions of times we're taught, "you just gotta let that shit go, man!" How do you let go of a hole in your soul? Yeah, think what you're life would be like if you're mother was present, you could see her, you wanted her affection, care and love she was giving your other siblings - but you couldn't access it, ever. If you tried, you were immediately rejected.  Hard. Day after day, year after year.  

It eats at your soul. If you ever have the soundness of mind, courage of spirit to let something of that magnitude resonate near you. I have because I have fought for my belonging here on this earth- but I might be one of the exceptions. I can't say it hasn't cost me. 

I am still alone. 

I am however, no longer dangerously lonely. 

I write to let someone, even one person know that you can survive. Addiction, depression, anxiety, and wanting to die. PTSD, is the hardest, I'm really having a hellofa time right now with mine.  People don't always understand, but I write for those of us who DO. 

"No temptation has overtaken you except such as in common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it. "

1 Corinthians 10:13

That is a PROMISE!! 

Always, no matter what, keep on going. No one can but you, if you have to sleep two days to conquer one, so be it. 

This too shall pass. 

Nothing, absolutely Nothing, happens in God's World by mistake.

Be Blessed!!!

Gina 

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