~Love is what we're born with. Fear is what we learned here~ Marianne Williamson
I'm scared. For 17 years, I drank to numb feelings and to feel feelings that I was too scared to feel sober. My disease of alcoholism now prevents me from using the drug that allowed me to feel connected with some of the feelings that I deemed negative, unacceptable or uncomfortable. Feelings like fear, sadness, anger and love. I had to learn in treatment that feelings are just feelings. We're born to feel certain emotions for survival and as we mature, we just learn to add judgments and expectations to those feelings.
As a child, I didn't feel safe to express fear, sadness and anger. I was raised by parents who had two primary feelings; fine and good. They expressed that even when things or their behavior didn't seem fine and good. Growing up, I thought there was something wrong with me when I felt fear, sadness and anger, so in college, I went to the doctor and they gave me a prescription for anti-depressants. My parents told me that they loved me, but sometimes they were abusive as they are being now by disowning me. These mixed messages have caused me to be confused and uncomfortable with love; having others say they love me or even loving myself is scary.
"How angry are you about not being able to drink anymore? How do you deal with anger?" My new counselor Sara asked me during our first one-to-one meeting tonight. "I don't know. I'm just trying to accept and be okay with not drinking each day. I usually write when I'm feeling angry now," I numbly responded. "How angry are you about your parents not speaking to you?" She asked after I filled her in on some of my background. "I think I'm scared to go there. I don't know how to deal with it right now while I try to stay sober. I'm afraid that the depth of pain may come out later and I don't know how it will manifest," I replied. She challenged me to try to connect with my feelings now. She said if I relapsed, they would be here for me. She reminded that I won't be in treatment forever, so she suggested trying new things and making mistakes while I still have them as a good safety net.
I have many friends and at my age, most have families or significant others. They have their own lives and I don't want to burden them with my feelings. I feel alone right now. I had my last 2 glasses of wine 67 days ago and my laptop now replaces glasses of wine. Which is more satisfying? At the moment, I would love a bottle of wine. I am angry that I can't drink. I am angry that I only know how to express anger to a blog. I am angry that I had a dysfunctional and abusive childhood and wonder what I could have accomplished if I had grown up in a healthy, supportive and positive environment. My family was watching me drink myself to death and now they're not present to watch me survive. I don't know why my parents were neglectful and didn't want to get to know the real me as I grew up. Like any other kid, all I wanted to do was make them happy and please them, but they kept shutting me down. I was a good girl and now I'm a good woman, but they still refuse to get to know the real, sober me. I'm afraid to scream and give a voice to my anger even as I sit here alone.
I'm scared. For 17 years, I drank to numb feelings and to feel feelings that I was too scared to feel sober. My disease of alcoholism now prevents me from using the drug that allowed me to feel connected with some of the feelings that I deemed negative, unacceptable or uncomfortable. Feelings like fear, sadness, anger and love. I had to learn in treatment that feelings are just feelings. We're born to feel certain emotions for survival and as we mature, we just learn to add judgments and expectations to those feelings.
As a child, I didn't feel safe to express fear, sadness and anger. I was raised by parents who had two primary feelings; fine and good. They expressed that even when things or their behavior didn't seem fine and good. Growing up, I thought there was something wrong with me when I felt fear, sadness and anger, so in college, I went to the doctor and they gave me a prescription for anti-depressants. My parents told me that they loved me, but sometimes they were abusive as they are being now by disowning me. These mixed messages have caused me to be confused and uncomfortable with love; having others say they love me or even loving myself is scary.
"How angry are you about not being able to drink anymore? How do you deal with anger?" My new counselor Sara asked me during our first one-to-one meeting tonight. "I don't know. I'm just trying to accept and be okay with not drinking each day. I usually write when I'm feeling angry now," I numbly responded. "How angry are you about your parents not speaking to you?" She asked after I filled her in on some of my background. "I think I'm scared to go there. I don't know how to deal with it right now while I try to stay sober. I'm afraid that the depth of pain may come out later and I don't know how it will manifest," I replied. She challenged me to try to connect with my feelings now. She said if I relapsed, they would be here for me. She reminded that I won't be in treatment forever, so she suggested trying new things and making mistakes while I still have them as a good safety net.
I have many friends and at my age, most have families or significant others. They have their own lives and I don't want to burden them with my feelings. I feel alone right now. I had my last 2 glasses of wine 67 days ago and my laptop now replaces glasses of wine. Which is more satisfying? At the moment, I would love a bottle of wine. I am angry that I can't drink. I am angry that I only know how to express anger to a blog. I am angry that I had a dysfunctional and abusive childhood and wonder what I could have accomplished if I had grown up in a healthy, supportive and positive environment. My family was watching me drink myself to death and now they're not present to watch me survive. I don't know why my parents were neglectful and didn't want to get to know the real me as I grew up. Like any other kid, all I wanted to do was make them happy and please them, but they kept shutting me down. I was a good girl and now I'm a good woman, but they still refuse to get to know the real, sober me. I'm afraid to scream and give a voice to my anger even as I sit here alone.
3 comments:
I'm familiar with the feeling of emotional impotency. It's why I don't blog, even though I've been asked to by more than a few people. I don't want it to turn into my own personal Wailing Wall, but the catharsis and necessity is evident in your writing. My dad always told me: "write for yourself" but my ability to string words together never satisfied me.
I understand! It took me loosing what I thought was right and secure to find the real me and begin to blossom on my own without the restraint of a dominant parent. I ended up questioning everything I learned growing up; it was difficult at times, and in the end I kept some of it, but alot I threw out and opted for a contrary view. Ultimately it has been for the better, I am my own person with my own faith, and it is not oppressive, but liberating.
Writing seems to be the best way sometimes to get all feelings and ideas out. I am somewhat quiet, but when I write I can be a different person, and let my self be known! Keep writing Cindy; you are grea at it!
no good fixating on issue 24/7. shorten posts and don't bury head in 2 many therapy books. they give tunnel vision. you need additional way to heal. don't take on too much at first. try volunteering to help others in field that's got nothing 2 do with addiction or abuse. or start new project like learning to paint or smthng.
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