misunderstoodchaos

* Trigger Warning *
I wanted to die today. I woke up this morning feeling this overwhelming sadness that enveloped my entire body. Once everyone left for the day, I sat down in the middle of my living room and sobbed until my body felt like it was breaking into pieces. Today I wanted to die.

Until I started focusing on myself and my own healing and recovery, I hadn't come to terms with the fact that I had no idea how to give a shit about myself. The number of times I have put my sobriety on the line without even realizing it is ridiculous. I was too preoccupied with looking out for everyone else and making sure they were okay. My therapist says that's a coping mechanism for me. I've been like that since I've been a child because it appeared to make things easier if I just concentrated solely on others and tried to avoid potentially difficult situations among family or friends. I suppose that worked for me at the time, but I'm not sure I understand how to meet my own mental and emotional needs now.

There are significant turning points in all of our lives when we begin to see ourselves differently. Those moments can irrevocably change the course of our lives. Before that moment happened to me, all I remember is being carefree and happy. I only have a few memories from my early childhood. My last goodbye to my grandmother, the way her house smelled, the way it looked, and the way I crawled up in the bed with her. I had no idea what dying meant. I remember being adopted by my father. As we were walking out of the judge's room, I looked up and asked him if I could call him my dad now. 35 years later I still remember how happy I was to finally have my very own dad. Most of my childhood memories are sporadic at best, and I'm beginning to doubt my reality of it all. When I sit and think about everything, I wonder if, on some other level, I'm being shielded from some type of terrible pain. In our household, I had a father that didn't like me very much and a mother that checked out long before. She never stood up for herself and she didn't stand up for me in those moments that I needed her most #misunderstoodchaos #MightyTogether #MentalHealth #BipolarDepression #Addiction #AddictionRecovery #BipolarDisorder #Anxiety #innerchildhealing

As time went on, I learned to numb those bad feelings and emotions. I would detach from them and avoid them at all costs. Throughout my adult life, I have carried certain things with me and eventually started to disconnect myself from the feelings of others. That way if I hurt them like I was hurting at that time, I wouldn't feel guilty. But that didn't work and I usually always ended up in trouble. My step-dad would always say to me, "Candis if you know it's wrong and you know you're going to get into trouble for it, why do it at all?" I would like to know to dad. Is it because I didn't care? Am I stupid? Did I want attention? Or did I just want my parent's attention at all costs? Those things that carried over with me into adulthood eventually developed into a couple of mental illnesses and a very strong drug addiction.

My parents fully believed that children should always respect their parents no matter what, that there were only a few ways to do things around there and that was their way or the wrong way, and the famous, "kids are to be seen and not heard." They wanted us to fear them so that we wouldn't go out and get into trouble because of the consequences. I feared my dad up until a certain age, after that though it was almost as if I was antagonizing him. Honestly, I just wanted my parent's attention and even if I was getting screamed at, spanked, or grounded at least they were paying attention to me. I can't put my mother into the same category though. She never really disciplined us. She would call our dad when he was over the road driving a truck and basically "tattle." She would expect my father to do the disciplining after 2 or 3 weeks out on the road when he wasn't even around when and if we got into trouble. I am not saying my mother is a liar, but her version of events and my version of events are very different. So are hers and my younger sisters. #misunderstoodchaos #Childhoodtrauma #EmotionalAbuse #MentalIllness