Now, I have made some hefty bad choices...I have. But in retrospect I do see that most of them stemmed from my turning the negativity I felt from being rejected by people with their own addictions, turning theat inward on myself and behaving in ways that demonstrate self-loathing and a desire to hurt myself. I somehow carry THEIR guilt...which maybe THEY THEMSELVES...do not even feel! I carry their guilt...I wear it like a crown of thorns upon my head...upon my heart. But today, this will change. For this is the first time I have ever really acknowledged the root of the problem and I have such an urgent and passionate desire to see improvement ...that I know I will overcome this at last. One day, I will be the person who people reach out to for advice at ovecoming the entanglements of being the codependent or the enabler. In honor of the late great Dr. King, I will echo a refrain I often sing to myself when I am alone in my thoughts:
WE SHALL OVERCOME ONE DAY
My mother was married to a man and they lived in Florida. She wanted to have a baby and so she arranged the situation so that he would get her pregnant. When he found out, he attempted to cause her bodily harm in order that she might miscarry. But in that moment, my Mother found the strength to leave that marriage and escape that abuse and instead, returned to live with her parents. I was the child she would have...her first. She was 21 years old. My Mother's parents were my Nana and Papa. My Nana was a mean and ornery (God please forgive her and let her Rest in Peace), but she was visciously cruel to my Mother. My Mom tolerated it as best she could but often left me with them to escape the abuse and just get away. My Papa was a jolly alcoholic who had a huge circle of friends and was loved by everyone at the bar. I would know since he brought me there weekly! Yup...3 years old being driven around by a drunk with no car seat or seatbelt. I learned quickly to be charming. My Papa developed alzheimers as a result of his excessive alcoholism at the tender age of 56! He was 56 years old and stricken with alzheimers. He failed fast. I loved that man. I loved my Nana, even though she was so cruel to my Mom. But it was hard for me to sympathize with my Mom when she was following in their footsteps with me. I would find out as an adult that Nana was addicted to prescription pain pills and Nicotine (I knew about the smoking obviously).
In time, my incredibly beautiful mother found a new husband and before long had 3 more children with him. My "Dad" adopted me. My biological father did not dispute it. By the time I was 7, I was seeing my parents smoking pot, using Meth, growing and selling pot and then using cocaine. It was a common occurrance for Mom and Dad to be snorting lines of coke on the living room coffee table when I would walk in the door from school. They didn't try to hide it from us. It was just there and we were told not to tell outsiders about what Mommy and Daddy do. I learned from then forward that lies were a part of life. I had to lie to cover their tracks and feel loved by them. I had to lie to be accepted in my own home. I had to accept feeling bad and being separated from others on a deep level in order to have the love of Mom and Dad. I thought that was supposed to be unconditional? I was dependent on them and I became their enabler.
In high school, as my Parents marriage deteriorated, my father began to drink heavily in addition to his drugs. we were evicted 3 or 4 times from various homes. When we lived at a house on Sprague Avenue, my Dad disappeared on "a long trip" and was gone a year. During that time my Mother became heavily addicted to Crack. She let us go hungry. She left us alone. And too many nights I had difficulty sleeping because I was afraid I would wake up and find Mom OD'd on her bed and dead. And then I would be there with 3 terrified little kids and no idea what to do. No Dad...no Mom...no idea what to do. I thought often about telling a trusted adult. I hinted a lot. Before Dad left for that year, I told him that I knew about Mom's problem and I begged him to help her. He laughed at me and said I was a drama queen.
When I got a scholarship to URI, I disappeared. They didn't seem to miss me. Within 3 months of being at URI, I took an entire bottle of a friends Prescription meds and waited to die. My roomate, for some reason, returned early from her class and called the paramedics and I was brought to the hospital...stomach pumped...made me drink tar. It was awful. I had bottomed out.
I thought I was in the clear. But you cannot escape addictions. Even those of other people. They have a lasting effect on you. I carry their addiction around as my scar tissue. And everyday I ask myself, are you addicted Angel? Are you addicted to coffee? Sugar? Is your neediness your addiction? Are you obssessive compulsive? Do you have Bipolar or depression? I have no idea how to answer these questions or if I should even bother. But in 2010, when I read "The Secret", I felt empowered that if I could get control back...control over my thoughts and feelings, I could begin to make a better life for myself. And that was the best decision I could have made. You see, I have made some seriously bad decisions, but then again, I have made some really brilliant ones along the way too...and more each day.
I am sharing this story for a reason. It is my way of reaching out and being open and trying to be really really honest and for once, NOT ashamed...as if I had done something wrong that caused the addicted person to hurt me, or caused me to retaliate against them. The Law of Attraction teaches me that I will attract the same situations over and over again until I mindfully take control. My subconscious mind has been working very hard these last several weeks and I often find myself having the same dreams over and over...about college..about moving from my home...about transition...about being afraid. And I want to conquer that fear. I want to really heal. I want to have compassion on others. I want to really deeply care and not because I am dependent on them for my self-esteem, but because I love them.
Thanks for letting me share my thoughts.
~namaste~
When your mind changes, your life changes. Thank you for writing such a vulnerable, brave entry. You are already helping all of us who read your blog in many different ways.
ReplyDelete