Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Dark closets and Danger

I don't know how clear I was in my last post, but the issues I'm dealing with aren't happening in any type of quick fashion, they've been going on over the course of the last few weeks, and yes they've been hard. Night time is always the hardest. Insomnia has been another issue I've struggled with for the past few years with increasing difficulty. It is always during these times that I seem to get to my lowest, feel my most pain, and reach the darkest places of myself. As you might expect this is where I do the worst damage to myself and make rash decisions.

Tonight I feel bad. I feel like I want to embrace the worst parts of myself and discover how bad, how evil, how horrible I can go. Just saying it sounds as stupid as I know it is, yet the roiling turmoil inside of me is screaming in pain and asking to have it ended, seems to think it can only be satiated in the worst possible way. I wonder how much time I have left before I truly do something stupid?

Small Destructive Steps

Coming to terms with who I am and what I've been through is a mixed bag. In some ways it's easy, but in a way that's equivalent to paying lip service to something. I can say it easily, but I don't always put the effort into taking care of the issue, and that is the hard part.

Don't get me wrong, I never thought this would be easy or have a clear path to figure out, but it doesn't mean I have to like how it feels. I don't think I've ever felt more alone about anything. This isn't something I'm ashamed of, but at the same time I don't know how I go forward and reveal what I'm going through to people and talk about this openly. It's exhausting having to explain everything and how the sexual abuse and the narcotics addiction are currently working hand in hand against me at this time. I mean, who do you dump this shit on? Who can even understand this?

So, this big change in my life and how I view myself is here, and so far I've handled it poorly. In fact, I'm still handling it poorly, making dangerous choices, bad choices, or what have you. There are days when I get up that after I get the kids off to school and I'm alone all I want to do is lay in a shallow grave and cover myself up into oblivion. Other days I want to watch the world burn, looking at everything and seeing nothing but futility and cynicism through my eyes. I'm either numb or hurt, some days both, and sometimes I switch between the two in the bat of an eye with or without reason. I see it coming and I'm powerless to stop it let alone get a handle on it. Some days I do better, and it's all internal, I don't share it.

Among the many bad choices I've made lately was going through a new prescription of Ativan in a week, in stead of a month. I didn't do this as a premeditated action, I just had access to my pills and used them to cope. I can make excuses, but I won't because it doesn't do any good and it really just leads back to making poor choices.

So here I am fighting against each of the problems and I'm really not sure which one I treat first or if I can get treatment for both at the same time through support groups. Narcotics support groups seem more numerous and offer more options, but if I'm being honest and I'm more concerned about the issues that I struggle with from the sexual abuse. Even now, I still have days that I wake after a night of troubled sleep and uncomfortable dreams that trail behind me throughout the day, but at the same time I have a hard time accepting that this happened to me, that some how I could have allowed it to take place, even though I was powerless and unable to protect myself. Its that last part that I know is hard to come to terms with.

So slowly I trudge through these days, walking through an emotional quagmire of my own life problems, feeling inadequate and unworthy, searching for relief and acceptance, and often finding that there is none, or that when I do find it then it's destructive for me. It's a solitary wading road and unfortunately I see it getting only more solitary the further I go.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011


I feel that the time is right for another entry, or several, on this blog because I need to come to grips with more issues. I don't know who is left out there that still checks on this from time or who will read this, but what I'm going to discuss is something I have to work through. I've tried for several days now to complete this post and each time the words escape me, probably as a result of some ingrained subconscious defense mechanism so I won't have to confront my feelings. I think the best thing for me to do is just to explain how this started.

My usual sleeping problems have gotten worse over the last month and when I can I usually have powerful nightmares that leave me thrashing, mumbling, or even shouting in my sleep. I've always been a vivid dreamer, but talking or physically reacting to them is very rare. The intensity of these dreams affected me greater than I would have ever imagined any dream could and on several occasions they have unlocked memories that I had pushed away and caused me untold amounts of confusion and trauma. What it has uncovered are memories of being molested as a child by my mother.

I dismissed the first couple of dreams as being nothing more than figments of my hyperactive mind, but the dreams continued and while I was awake I began to have more memories surface. Even now, just acknowledging this to myself internally makes me want to crawl out of my skin and seek safety in some unknown place. I tried every logical explanation I could conceive of that could strike down what I was remembering, but each attempt only led me to further examination and confirmation. Coming to terms with this new realization has been unbearable at times and pushed my depression into stages that has had me considering suicide in my weakest and lowest moments.

It's not commonly known to many people, but I have an addiction to painkillers such as hydrocodone, which I needed to seek treatment for. Times of stress and great anxiety heighten this alluring addiction because the benefits of overusing medication like this is that is keeps me numb and deadens my emotions and feelings. As I walk through the pained memories that I am experiencing all over again, the need to take away the pain and suffering that I am going through on a daily basis is overwhelming. I've abused my anxiety medication trying to mask the anger and resentment I'm going through so that now I'm battling this as well.

As meager as this collection of thoughts are, organizing and composing them have been draining, so I think I'll leave this alone for one night.