I grew up in chaos, fear, pain and constant confusion. I honest to God do not know how I managed to marry a healthy spouse because I was so screwed up.
I used to think this was normal.
I was shocked when I realized it wasn’t.
My big brother and I grew up in an environment that was not conducive to us. We were not a priority and there was never not a war going on in our home.
I have a lot of memory loss from when I was a child, but I do remember feeling terrified all the time. I remember feeling helpless to protect myself from the onslaught of torment that was a staple in my life.
No matter what I did there was disapproval and consequences.
I wanted to be a good girl and I tried to be a good girl, but I could never escape the bullets; not even once I was married.
My father was an expert at withholding love from me. He knew exactly when and how to do it, so it would really impact me. I think he enjoyed it.
Over time as I drowned in rejection, I started building a maze that was impossible to get through and then I stuffed myself in the farthest corner of it. As I got older this made it impossible to create healthy relationships. Any of my friends from my teen years on into my early twenties, will ALL tell you that I was crazy. Psycho in fact.
I grew up in chaos and every day I faced some sort of deliberate rejection from my father.
On one particular day he was completely out of control.
I remember thinking “he’s going to put me through a wall.”
He just wouldn’t leave me alone and I was scared to breath.
He hovered over me criticizing everything I did.
And then like a volcanic eruption he told me that he wished I were never born.
In the same breath he blamed me for my mother’s open-heart surgery that year and then stood in silence waiting for me to respond. I dare not.
Everywhere I went I brought chaos and rejection with me. And I made sure there was plenty to go around.
But once I met my husband those fires I liked to set where quickly cut off.
My husband could always sense my “psychotic state” preparing to make an entrance, but he gave it no room to breathe. He left my maze in ruins and no matter what I did he responded with love. It wasn’t until I could see how bad I was hurting him that I knew I was making a grave mistake in choosing anger every time. Unless you’re narcissistic it’s hard to keep hurting someone who keeps giving you love.
Eventually I melted and started the excruciating work of unlearning my toxic behavior. And I would do it all over again if I had too.
But two Tuesdays ago, I struggled.
Two Tuesdays ago, I wanted to take a flame thrower and torch all the progress (which has been monumental) I’ve made.
Two weeks ago I toyed with the thought of ushering self-destruction back into my life. The “I don’t care, I’ll burn everything to the ground” type of destruction.
One ugly secret from my past was enough to make me buy a ticket back to “WTF town.” But what was worse is who shared the secret.
Hearing this particular person say Just a few words flooded me with feelings of helplessness and worthlessness and my brain… Read Full Post at Today.com
