No booze yesterday which was a good idea. Mondays go so much better for me when I am not hungover and when I have at least had a fighting chance at a decent nights sleep. I didn't sleep all that well mainly because one of our dogs was snoring and I had a stopped up nose. I think. Who knows why I seldom sleep well. I want a drink so badly right now....but I know that tonight I will resist.
I had an epiphany today. I read an article about the characteristics of happy people. One of the characteristics of happy people is that they apparently don't think thoughts like, "if only I were thin I would be happy" or "if only I had more money I would be happy". I don't really have thoughts that if I were magically thinner or richer that I would be happier. But, I know that if I change my habits and take better care of myself I will be happier and that my general output will be higher. Then I started thinking about my feelings about my life right now, a life that is truly happy and blessed. And the truth is that I am not satisfied with my life right now and I wonder if its because I am waiting for excitement.
I used fantasize about the great things that would happen after business school, after I met the man of my dreams, after I got married....and so on. Well I have an MBA, a house, and a husband and its not that exciting. The last time I was super excited about the future was when I was in graduate school. I believed that once I finished that a great opportunity would present itself. It never really did. Well, I thought it did, but the job turned out to be a bad opportunity that I hadn't researched well enough.
Don't get me wrong I love my husband so much. He is kind of getting on my nerves lately because he has been working from home for the past 2 weeks and I work from home which is a little bit too much togetherness. But I am happy. When I am not hungover and I get enough sleep I am happy but I think I will be much happier when I feel like I am accomplishing more with my career and when I am back in shape. I cant figure out if I think that something exciting will happen as a result of improved career and weight loss/getting in shape or if that end will be enough for me. Once I get back in shape I am thinking of joining a running club and training for a 1/2 marathon. I used to be a competitive athlete and it felt so good to run hard and win. Maybe that will fill whatever need for excitement and competition I have.
All I know is that to find out I have to stay off the sauce as much as possible.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Sunday: Hangover Blues
Well I did not continue my no-drinking-streak through the weekend as you can probably tell from the title of this post. On Friday night my husband and i had a couple of bottles of wine and then I finished the evening with vodka. Yesterday I had brunch with a friend where I had a mimosa to get rid of my hangover from the night before. Then later in the day I had beer, wine, and vodka. I kind of wish my husband would discourage my drinking. I apologized for getting drunk last night because I know I was a little obnoxious at one point. He just said that he doesn't mind if I drink too much sometimes. He is planning a trip for us to Napa for our anniversary in a few weeks and I am so nervous because I don't want to drink a lot out there and I am afraid that will happen.
The week after this next one I am going to go visit one of my girlfriends for about 4 days. Her husband is out of town and I am going to stay with her and see some other friends who live in the area as well. The only problem is hat this particular friend loves to drink wine and has an extensive wine cellar. I am just going to have to say no more than I usually do when I visit her.
It will be tough that is for sure.
I don't feel that great today but I am not drinking to make myself feel better which is a small victory I guess.
The week after this next one I am going to go visit one of my girlfriends for about 4 days. Her husband is out of town and I am going to stay with her and see some other friends who live in the area as well. The only problem is hat this particular friend loves to drink wine and has an extensive wine cellar. I am just going to have to say no more than I usually do when I visit her.
It will be tough that is for sure.
I don't feel that great today but I am not drinking to make myself feel better which is a small victory I guess.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Another Day with no booze......
Well its Thursday and I feel good. I am SO tempted to pour myself a tasty vodka but I am managing to resist. I slept so well last night and I want to do everything I can to try to get another good night of sleep tonight. So as tempted as I am to drink I desire sleep more and I sure hope I can get it. I never know when I lie down if I am going to sleep or just toss and turn.
Yesterday I called one of my best friends to talk to her about my rage about my sister. This particular friend has spent a lot of time in therapy dealing with her own issues and I guess the good advice must have rubbed off on her. She was a great help to me and I have been feeling so much calmer about the situation ever since I talked to her. I need to try to only focus on myself and not worry so much about my family. I have to set and achieve aggressive goals for myself. Thats when I have been the happiest in life...when I push myself hard to achieve something big and then I do it.
Yesterday I called one of my best friends to talk to her about my rage about my sister. This particular friend has spent a lot of time in therapy dealing with her own issues and I guess the good advice must have rubbed off on her. She was a great help to me and I have been feeling so much calmer about the situation ever since I talked to her. I need to try to only focus on myself and not worry so much about my family. I have to set and achieve aggressive goals for myself. Thats when I have been the happiest in life...when I push myself hard to achieve something big and then I do it.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Wednesday
Well its been a pretty good week so far. I caved on Monday and drank a couple of vodka rocks before bed. But nothing since then and not drinking tonight. I have so much work to do!!! Work seems to keep me focused and not drinking so that is a good thing. My husband plays poker on Wednesdays so he is out for the evening and one of my girlfriends is coming over. We do this pretty much every Wednesday evening. It's fun...we watch a ton of Law and Order, eat mac-n-cheese and just have a nice booze-free time. This particular friend doesn't drink so she is probably good company for me!
Hi Anne...so glad you are checking in because we miss you.
Hi Anne...so glad you are checking in because we miss you.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Sunday and All is Well
First of all I have to say to Ann...I miss you. I understand why you aren't blogging now but I miss you because I felt that you and I are really going through some of the same things and you have been a great source of comfort and support to me. Please check in frequently and leave me comments about how you are. Or if you prefer you can email me directly...my screen name @gmail.com
Friday I drank at the rodeo and then a bit more at home. On Saturday, yesterday, I was hungover, irritable, and generally miserable. Went to the rodeo finals last night but I had such a headache that we left before the concert following the events. I came home, took a bath, and resolved (again) to try to live better. Didn't drink today and I feel good. My husband is drinking wine this evening and I am not having any. I have got to use self control more. It's so hard sometimes. I ran out of vodka and was going to just not buy more but my sweet husband, not knowing that I am trying to cut back I guess bought me two huge bottles. I just have to stay away from them.
I have to keep my head about me because I have a lot of clients right now and I really really want to write a book this year. I have been talking about it and I think I have a possible publisher if I can get my act together.
Also, on a totally unrelated topic, I am having such a hard time dealing with rage at my sister. If you visit this blog with any frequency you know that I had a troubled childhood. My youngest sister is 13 years younger than me. I was 17 and she was nearly 5 when I left for college. I thought a lot about whether or not to sever all ties with my family when I left because my childhood was so painful for me. But, I thought it over and decided that I didn't want to be like everyone else...I had always felt that there was no one in my corner and that there was no one to protect me and my siblings. So, I decided not to cut off all contact and to try to do whatever I could to support my siblings and hopefully "fix" my family so that one day things could be normal.
Over the years as my sister got older I did what I could and in the best way I knew how to show her that I cared about her. I attended her high school graduation, I went with her when she started college, I went to her college graduation. I took her on vacations and flew her to Chicago to spend time with me over holidays and sometimes for a week or so...all expenses paid. I took her shopping, bought her gifts, and tried to show her a good time. I thought she loved me. Often my dad would ask me to support him and talk to her about things like graduate school, grades or whatever. In short, my relationship with her was always more like a mother than a sister.
I know there have been times when I have been more stern with my sister than she would like. I have always thought that she tends to give up on goals too quickly and that she makes excuses for giving up or failing rather than just owning her mistakes.
For example, when she went to college she said she wanted to go to medical school. She majored in biology and supposedly worked toward getting into med school until her senior year. Then, all of the sudden it turned out that her grades weren't good enough for medical school. Instead of just saying, "hey, I didn't work hard enough so I'll find something else to do" she all of the sudden says that she has ADD (she never had it before) and so that is why she can't get into medical school. She didn't even go through career and placement services to get a job. She graduated with out a job and wound up working as a temp and sponging off my dad. No big deal but of course I talked to her about this because that kind of behavior won't help her in the real world. I have always tried to be gentle and diplomatic with her but it seems she doesn't see it that way. She tells people that I am "harsh and unyielding".
My sister is very bad with money and I have tried to help her there too by lending her money, and later, when I figured out that she might be taking advantage of me, by trying to help her learn personal finance. I have truly done the best I could do and have always wanted the best for her. I envisioned her as my maid of honor and us as the best of friends. When I got married 3 years ago I asked her to be my maid of honor. At first she said yes but then, in response to an email I sent her chastising her for borrowing more money from my dad, she sent me the nastiest and craziest email I have ever received. I called it her "manifesto"...she made all kind of bizarre accusations that included the fact that she thinks that my dad and I make fun of her behind her back which we don't. So, I asked her not to be in the wedding party. She seemed OK with that and did a reading instead.
It came to my attention during the Christmas of 2006 that my sister hates my guts. I never knew that before. She came to my home to have Christmas with my dad and my husband and me.; she lives in another state so she flew here and stayed in my home for a week. She says she has all kinds of food allergies...I am sure some of them are true but there are varying degrees of allergic reaction and I am not sure her allergies are as bad as she says...nevertheless my husband prepared all kinds of meals that she could eat even though that meant adjusting his menus and extra work.
We bought my sister hundreds of dollars worth of gifts that she chose and put on wish lists. We showed her every kindness and tried to be good to her. After I returned from taking her to the airport my husband told me that he had looked at her MySpace page. She had written the most awful things about me on her blog. Prior to coming to visit us she ranted about how she didn't want to come for Christmas and called me "inscrutable and rude". While staying in my home and availing herself of our hospitality she updated her MySpace page to say that I yelled and cursed at her which was completely untrue. I cried and cried. Then I cut and pasted from her blog and sent her an email that said I couldn't believe she would say these things to me and that she should get a diary like a normal person. I also copied my dad on the email. I haven't spoken to her since.
I have since found out that she tells people the most awful and untrue things about me. I should also add that my brothers refuse to speak to her or be around her. She told me that after I left home for college that the two of them used to physically abuse her. She told me that one of my brothers tried to rape her. I figured that she was exaggerating but that she may have gotten caught in some crossfire between my brothers because I know that after I left they fought some as teenagers. Now that I see what a liar she is I no longer believe anything she has said.
But I feel so betrayed. I have spoken with my father about this and he says that he thinks she conned me and used me. I think so too. I am in so much pain and I just hate her now. I loved her so much and thought about her all the time. If I found a cute pair of shoes for myself I would often buy and send her a pair too. I sent her care packages in college. I found the best florists and bakers in the city that she lives in and sent her cakes and flowers for birthdays. I am not perfect but I was never unkind to her. I don't understand.
The weird thing to me about her is that she seems to synthesize information and situations very differently than I do. I mean I don't yell and curse at her. In her blog she claims that she has to walk on eggshells around me because she never knows when I am going to start screaming and cursing. That has never happened. I wonder if in her mind, when I disagree with her if that counts as "screaming"? I certainly curse sometimes too but never at her so maybe I cursed once and that is part of the "screaming and cursing" she claims that I do. I just don't know. This makes no sense to me.
The worst part of this, for me, is that deep inside I wonder if I am a nice person. It's something I struggle with all the time. I try to so hard to be nice to people but I know how to stick up for myself...a childhood of being bullied by my mother taught me what to do if someone pushes me around. I am not known as being someone who suffers fools gladly or a woman who takes crap from anyone. I guess you could say that my Achilles heel is this feeling that I am not a good enough person and that no one likes me. My husband says differently and I certainly have a large circle of friends but that thought is always there in my mind just lurking and waiting for someone to say something to confirm it. One of the things my sister says about me behind my back is that she never thought I was a nice person in the first place. That hurts most of all because I truly thought we were close despite our age difference.
Friday I drank at the rodeo and then a bit more at home. On Saturday, yesterday, I was hungover, irritable, and generally miserable. Went to the rodeo finals last night but I had such a headache that we left before the concert following the events. I came home, took a bath, and resolved (again) to try to live better. Didn't drink today and I feel good. My husband is drinking wine this evening and I am not having any. I have got to use self control more. It's so hard sometimes. I ran out of vodka and was going to just not buy more but my sweet husband, not knowing that I am trying to cut back I guess bought me two huge bottles. I just have to stay away from them.
I have to keep my head about me because I have a lot of clients right now and I really really want to write a book this year. I have been talking about it and I think I have a possible publisher if I can get my act together.
Also, on a totally unrelated topic, I am having such a hard time dealing with rage at my sister. If you visit this blog with any frequency you know that I had a troubled childhood. My youngest sister is 13 years younger than me. I was 17 and she was nearly 5 when I left for college. I thought a lot about whether or not to sever all ties with my family when I left because my childhood was so painful for me. But, I thought it over and decided that I didn't want to be like everyone else...I had always felt that there was no one in my corner and that there was no one to protect me and my siblings. So, I decided not to cut off all contact and to try to do whatever I could to support my siblings and hopefully "fix" my family so that one day things could be normal.
Over the years as my sister got older I did what I could and in the best way I knew how to show her that I cared about her. I attended her high school graduation, I went with her when she started college, I went to her college graduation. I took her on vacations and flew her to Chicago to spend time with me over holidays and sometimes for a week or so...all expenses paid. I took her shopping, bought her gifts, and tried to show her a good time. I thought she loved me. Often my dad would ask me to support him and talk to her about things like graduate school, grades or whatever. In short, my relationship with her was always more like a mother than a sister.
I know there have been times when I have been more stern with my sister than she would like. I have always thought that she tends to give up on goals too quickly and that she makes excuses for giving up or failing rather than just owning her mistakes.
For example, when she went to college she said she wanted to go to medical school. She majored in biology and supposedly worked toward getting into med school until her senior year. Then, all of the sudden it turned out that her grades weren't good enough for medical school. Instead of just saying, "hey, I didn't work hard enough so I'll find something else to do" she all of the sudden says that she has ADD (she never had it before) and so that is why she can't get into medical school. She didn't even go through career and placement services to get a job. She graduated with out a job and wound up working as a temp and sponging off my dad. No big deal but of course I talked to her about this because that kind of behavior won't help her in the real world. I have always tried to be gentle and diplomatic with her but it seems she doesn't see it that way. She tells people that I am "harsh and unyielding".
My sister is very bad with money and I have tried to help her there too by lending her money, and later, when I figured out that she might be taking advantage of me, by trying to help her learn personal finance. I have truly done the best I could do and have always wanted the best for her. I envisioned her as my maid of honor and us as the best of friends. When I got married 3 years ago I asked her to be my maid of honor. At first she said yes but then, in response to an email I sent her chastising her for borrowing more money from my dad, she sent me the nastiest and craziest email I have ever received. I called it her "manifesto"...she made all kind of bizarre accusations that included the fact that she thinks that my dad and I make fun of her behind her back which we don't. So, I asked her not to be in the wedding party. She seemed OK with that and did a reading instead.
It came to my attention during the Christmas of 2006 that my sister hates my guts. I never knew that before. She came to my home to have Christmas with my dad and my husband and me.; she lives in another state so she flew here and stayed in my home for a week. She says she has all kinds of food allergies...I am sure some of them are true but there are varying degrees of allergic reaction and I am not sure her allergies are as bad as she says...nevertheless my husband prepared all kinds of meals that she could eat even though that meant adjusting his menus and extra work.
We bought my sister hundreds of dollars worth of gifts that she chose and put on wish lists. We showed her every kindness and tried to be good to her. After I returned from taking her to the airport my husband told me that he had looked at her MySpace page. She had written the most awful things about me on her blog. Prior to coming to visit us she ranted about how she didn't want to come for Christmas and called me "inscrutable and rude". While staying in my home and availing herself of our hospitality she updated her MySpace page to say that I yelled and cursed at her which was completely untrue. I cried and cried. Then I cut and pasted from her blog and sent her an email that said I couldn't believe she would say these things to me and that she should get a diary like a normal person. I also copied my dad on the email. I haven't spoken to her since.
I have since found out that she tells people the most awful and untrue things about me. I should also add that my brothers refuse to speak to her or be around her. She told me that after I left home for college that the two of them used to physically abuse her. She told me that one of my brothers tried to rape her. I figured that she was exaggerating but that she may have gotten caught in some crossfire between my brothers because I know that after I left they fought some as teenagers. Now that I see what a liar she is I no longer believe anything she has said.
But I feel so betrayed. I have spoken with my father about this and he says that he thinks she conned me and used me. I think so too. I am in so much pain and I just hate her now. I loved her so much and thought about her all the time. If I found a cute pair of shoes for myself I would often buy and send her a pair too. I sent her care packages in college. I found the best florists and bakers in the city that she lives in and sent her cakes and flowers for birthdays. I am not perfect but I was never unkind to her. I don't understand.
The weird thing to me about her is that she seems to synthesize information and situations very differently than I do. I mean I don't yell and curse at her. In her blog she claims that she has to walk on eggshells around me because she never knows when I am going to start screaming and cursing. That has never happened. I wonder if in her mind, when I disagree with her if that counts as "screaming"? I certainly curse sometimes too but never at her so maybe I cursed once and that is part of the "screaming and cursing" she claims that I do. I just don't know. This makes no sense to me.
The worst part of this, for me, is that deep inside I wonder if I am a nice person. It's something I struggle with all the time. I try to so hard to be nice to people but I know how to stick up for myself...a childhood of being bullied by my mother taught me what to do if someone pushes me around. I am not known as being someone who suffers fools gladly or a woman who takes crap from anyone. I guess you could say that my Achilles heel is this feeling that I am not a good enough person and that no one likes me. My husband says differently and I certainly have a large circle of friends but that thought is always there in my mind just lurking and waiting for someone to say something to confirm it. One of the things my sister says about me behind my back is that she never thought I was a nice person in the first place. That hurts most of all because I truly thought we were close despite our age difference.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Friday: I Drank on Thursday and I Regret It
Things were going so well this week. I went to the rodeo last night (we have box seats) and drank 3 beers. No big deal, right? Well the beers weren't but then I came home and drank a bunch of Flor De Cana rum, or as I call it, "evil juice". I was hungover and unproductive today. Ate badly and didn't work out. I think that is what made me the maddest at myself. When I drink too much I don't meet my goals of eating better and working out every day. I feel like a total loser. I hope I have the strength not to drink tomorrow night at the rodeo finals.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Wednesday Morning, Feeling Good
Last night around 10 pm when I was winding down for the day I contemplated "just 1" drink and, fortunately, was able to talk myself out of it. I slept so soundly last night and now I feel really great. I hope that I a can hang in there for awhile because my business is so busy now...many new clients and I really really want to write my book proposal this year. I keep talking about it and not doing it and that is one of my pet peeves: procrastination. I hope I sleep well tonight because there is a spin class at the gym that someone recommended to me that I really want to try.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Monday and No Drinks
Ann and AnyBeth- thanks again for your sweet and supportive comments. It means so much to me. I drank yesterday. I think i really need to avoid rehashing childhood memories. I got so depressed after I wrote in my blog. Actually, the writing part was therapeutic but afterwards I was bummed. And then I drank which led to a poor nights sleep and a less than productive day. But, no drinks tonight and I did work out today so I am sure that tomorrow will be a better day.
Thanks so much for your support. I love being able to reach out via blog because it makes me feel anonymous which, in turn, makes me feel safe. I don't ever want to be known as damaged goods or have people associate my face with tragedy, child abuse, sexual abuse or anything like that. There is an older woman I know (70s) who went through unspeakable sexual abuse as a child...I mean she seriously has the worst stories I have ever heard. You know how I know? Because she recently wrote and self-published a book detailing her childhood. She says the book is supposed to be sort of a roadmap to healing but I don't think that is really what she created. It's just 200 pages of stories about how her dad used to make her stay in a public restroom and guys would pay him to have sex with her. She was about 6 at the time and its just the saddest thing I have ever heard.
This poor woman has spent much of her life in and out of mental hospitals getting all kinds of awful treatments including shock therapy and its all in the book. She is part of a women's social group that I am part of so when she started selling her book I bought a copy to be supportive. I read it and I cried and cried...it was just beyond depressing. I really respect her for overcoming her past but the problem is that when I look at her I recall many of the horrific details in her book. That is pretty much all I think of when I see her although I am sure she has many other wonderful qualities that she would rather be known for. But that's what happens when you tell people the things you have been through - they identify you that way.
I don't want to be that person...the person who is known for a tragic past. I have worked too hard to accomplish other things that define me more than a sad childhood including earning an undergrad degree and MBA from a top-5 school, a great career, a great husband, and wonderful friends. That is why I like being able to blog about what I am going through and find support on the internet - it allows me to be anonymous while sharing with others.
Thanks so much for your support. I love being able to reach out via blog because it makes me feel anonymous which, in turn, makes me feel safe. I don't ever want to be known as damaged goods or have people associate my face with tragedy, child abuse, sexual abuse or anything like that. There is an older woman I know (70s) who went through unspeakable sexual abuse as a child...I mean she seriously has the worst stories I have ever heard. You know how I know? Because she recently wrote and self-published a book detailing her childhood. She says the book is supposed to be sort of a roadmap to healing but I don't think that is really what she created. It's just 200 pages of stories about how her dad used to make her stay in a public restroom and guys would pay him to have sex with her. She was about 6 at the time and its just the saddest thing I have ever heard.
This poor woman has spent much of her life in and out of mental hospitals getting all kinds of awful treatments including shock therapy and its all in the book. She is part of a women's social group that I am part of so when she started selling her book I bought a copy to be supportive. I read it and I cried and cried...it was just beyond depressing. I really respect her for overcoming her past but the problem is that when I look at her I recall many of the horrific details in her book. That is pretty much all I think of when I see her although I am sure she has many other wonderful qualities that she would rather be known for. But that's what happens when you tell people the things you have been through - they identify you that way.
I don't want to be that person...the person who is known for a tragic past. I have worked too hard to accomplish other things that define me more than a sad childhood including earning an undergrad degree and MBA from a top-5 school, a great career, a great husband, and wonderful friends. That is why I like being able to blog about what I am going through and find support on the internet - it allows me to be anonymous while sharing with others.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Sunday
Well I drank again last night. I am disappointed in myself but I am going to start my quest for sobriety anew today. If I can make it through today maybe I can make it through the whole week. Usually if I can get avoid drinking the day after I have had some drinks I don't crave it the day after.
I think I might order a book called "The Courage to Heal" that was suggested to me. My response to Ann's post the other day got me to thinking more about my childhood which I am not sure was a good idea. Sometimes I feel like everything seems so complicated. I have no idea why my parents treated us the way they did. Why have kids if you don't like kids? I mean my dad was from a relatively normal Irish Catholic family...his dad was abusive and alcoholic but it was within what is considered socially normal. My mother, on the other hand, was from a family that was so abusive and dysfunctional (well her mom anyway) that it's almost unbelievable. So why would she have kids? She told me once that she didn't want kids but my dad did so she pumped out 5 of them. I guess that kind of explains it but it is just so irresponsible.
I made a decision years ago not to have children because I figured that the cycle of abuse would continue with me. I am now 40 years old and I feel almost a sense of relief that accidental pregnancy is pretty unlikely now. I don't really like children very much anyway so it has worked out OK.
I read a blog the other day in which the author talked about the importance of feeling pain and not running from it. Specifically she was talking about pain associated with past sexual abuse. I guess I have always felt that my childhood was so nightmarish that I just want to do my best to have fun for the rest of my life. I can't think of any good reason to get into a therapy situation where I would have to relive all of what I went through again. I figure I have about 40 more years on this earth so why spend several years of it being miserable? I literally can't recall any pleasant or fun memories from my childhood. Mostly my siblings and I were scared, lonely, and on a constant state of alert to make sure we didn't upset my mother in any way. When my dad would get drunk and bad things would happen at night we weren't allowed to discuss or acknowledge them the next day.
Until I was about 13 I thought about suicide every single day and tried to think of a fool proof way to kill myself. Then one Sunday morning when I was sitting in church I thought through a suicide attempt and what the possible outcomes might be. I have always thought that God was guiding my thoughts that day because I figured that there were 2 outcomes to trying to kill myself: 1. I would be dead and everyone else in the world would just go on about their lives and I wouldn't have the chance to get away from that little town that I grew up in. 2. I would fail at the attempt and either permanently cripple myself or, worse yet, would attract unwanted attention to myself. I wasn't exactly sure what would happen but I was pretty sure that the outcome of a failed attempt would be bad.
So, I quit thinking about suicide and just thought about escape. I knew that if I ran away I would eventually be found and brought back which, again, involved unwanted attention and even fewer privileges than I already had. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to be invisible. Not surprisingly I was very shy and sad as a child. When I looked sad it seemed to make my mother even angrier at me so eventually I figured out that if I smiled and made jokes sometimes that it deflected attention from me. I used to watch kids at school to see what they talked about and laughed about and tried to integrate some of that into my persona so that she would ignore me. It worked too. My younger brother was so sullen and unhappy that she started to abuse him more than me. Its terrible though...she really destroyed him. He is almost 40 yeras old and hasn't worked in years, is overweight, has no friends, and is a very angry and bitter person. He is what I would call a non-functioning human being and I feel so sorry for him...its not his fault he is this way.
Man she hated us. It's hard to explain because it sounds so unbelievable if you grew up with a mother who had even a little love for her kids which most people did. When I was growing up I only had a couple of friends and they had seen what it was like at my house with their own eyes. I never tried to tell anyone else because I didn't think they would believe me.
Each day I would get up and get dressed, get my siblings dressed (oh did I mention one of my sisters is retarded...needed constant supervision, couldn't talk, couldn't dress herself, and needed help going to the toilet.) and make them breakfast and their lunches. I also had to make my mother coffee and when she whistled from her bedroom one of us would have to take her a cup of coffee.
We used to fight over who had to go up there and take her the coffee. It was like walking into a spider's web. Whoever went up there stood a decent chance of getting slapped but mostly she would look at whatever you were wearing and make you go change. Sounds like no big deal right? No. See my mother refused to let us wear jeans and shirts to school like the other kids. Oh no, she would shop for the cheapest double knit pants with elastic waistbands that were never even remotely in fashion and of course all the other kids made fun of us. I know that sounds so petty but for the same amount of money she could have gone to Wal Mart and let us get jeans and shirts but she refused. The thing is that my parents had money...its wasn't a financial issue. It was about the fact that she had to have complete and total control. We weren't allowed to make even the smallest decisions and if we did she would beat us or take away privileges. And by "privileges" I mean being allowed to check books out of the library or watch Little House on the Prairie. We didn't have privileges like normal kids who could go play in the neighborhood or ride bikes together.
Anyway, after delivering coffee to her she would make us beg her to take us to school. She actually went through various phases where for a few months she would want us to ride the school bus and then suddenly she would change her mind and tell us we weren't allowed and that she would take us to school. When she was in one of her "I will take you to school" phases she would take her own sweet time getting ready in the morning so that we were late to school all the time. It was so embarrassing because I used to get in trouble every morning from the principal at our middle school for being late. If we tried to rush her she would get angry and scream, take away privileges, or smack us around. After school she insisted on picking us up but she was always late for that too. And the worst part about riding home from school with her was that as soon as you got in the car she would either scream at us or slap us around for some kind of infraction that she had either been stewing about all day or something she just thought up as soon as she saw us. By the time we got home she would have thought of more things to take away from us or would just start spanking us when we got in the house.
Then when we got home we could do housework, yard work, or our homework. We weren't allowed to watch TV or sit and read in the living room. If you were caught looking like you were having fun or not working at something there was trouble. Then she would tell us what she was cooking for dinner and tell us what to prepare...we did all vegetable chopping and other preparations plus setting the table. And then we cleaned up after she cooked. It was like she was doing us all some huge favor by cooking for us. I tried to escape to my bedroom as soon as I could after dinner to read or do homework. And that was pretty much what life was like. Sometimes if you were in your room she would throw open the door and scream about something you hadn't cleaned properly or other infractions. My dad was at the office most of the time and when he came home he was often drunk but at least he was usually nice to us.
When I was about 7 I had this beautiful long blonde hair that I loved and one day she said it was too much trouble so she put it in a ponytail and cut off the ponytail. I cried and cried and cried. She made me wear short hair forever after that. As an adult I now have beautiful long blonde hair. I can't figure out why she hated all of us so much. It had to have taken a lot of energy to stay so mad and to continuously ambush us with accusations. You never knew what would set her off so you had to always listen carefully to see if you could hear her coming around a corner. There was this one spot in our backyard where we sort of hollowed out a cave in some of the bushes and that was a good place to hide. If my dad was drunk and doing who-knows-what to my mom in their bedroom late at night and she was screaming I used to get my siblings together and we would just hide out there until things got quiet again.
OK thats enough depressing crap for now. Even as I write this I think that no one would ever believe this happened to anyone because I dont know anyone else who had a mother like this.
I think I might order a book called "The Courage to Heal" that was suggested to me. My response to Ann's post the other day got me to thinking more about my childhood which I am not sure was a good idea. Sometimes I feel like everything seems so complicated. I have no idea why my parents treated us the way they did. Why have kids if you don't like kids? I mean my dad was from a relatively normal Irish Catholic family...his dad was abusive and alcoholic but it was within what is considered socially normal. My mother, on the other hand, was from a family that was so abusive and dysfunctional (well her mom anyway) that it's almost unbelievable. So why would she have kids? She told me once that she didn't want kids but my dad did so she pumped out 5 of them. I guess that kind of explains it but it is just so irresponsible.
I made a decision years ago not to have children because I figured that the cycle of abuse would continue with me. I am now 40 years old and I feel almost a sense of relief that accidental pregnancy is pretty unlikely now. I don't really like children very much anyway so it has worked out OK.
I read a blog the other day in which the author talked about the importance of feeling pain and not running from it. Specifically she was talking about pain associated with past sexual abuse. I guess I have always felt that my childhood was so nightmarish that I just want to do my best to have fun for the rest of my life. I can't think of any good reason to get into a therapy situation where I would have to relive all of what I went through again. I figure I have about 40 more years on this earth so why spend several years of it being miserable? I literally can't recall any pleasant or fun memories from my childhood. Mostly my siblings and I were scared, lonely, and on a constant state of alert to make sure we didn't upset my mother in any way. When my dad would get drunk and bad things would happen at night we weren't allowed to discuss or acknowledge them the next day.
Until I was about 13 I thought about suicide every single day and tried to think of a fool proof way to kill myself. Then one Sunday morning when I was sitting in church I thought through a suicide attempt and what the possible outcomes might be. I have always thought that God was guiding my thoughts that day because I figured that there were 2 outcomes to trying to kill myself: 1. I would be dead and everyone else in the world would just go on about their lives and I wouldn't have the chance to get away from that little town that I grew up in. 2. I would fail at the attempt and either permanently cripple myself or, worse yet, would attract unwanted attention to myself. I wasn't exactly sure what would happen but I was pretty sure that the outcome of a failed attempt would be bad.
So, I quit thinking about suicide and just thought about escape. I knew that if I ran away I would eventually be found and brought back which, again, involved unwanted attention and even fewer privileges than I already had. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to be invisible. Not surprisingly I was very shy and sad as a child. When I looked sad it seemed to make my mother even angrier at me so eventually I figured out that if I smiled and made jokes sometimes that it deflected attention from me. I used to watch kids at school to see what they talked about and laughed about and tried to integrate some of that into my persona so that she would ignore me. It worked too. My younger brother was so sullen and unhappy that she started to abuse him more than me. Its terrible though...she really destroyed him. He is almost 40 yeras old and hasn't worked in years, is overweight, has no friends, and is a very angry and bitter person. He is what I would call a non-functioning human being and I feel so sorry for him...its not his fault he is this way.
Man she hated us. It's hard to explain because it sounds so unbelievable if you grew up with a mother who had even a little love for her kids which most people did. When I was growing up I only had a couple of friends and they had seen what it was like at my house with their own eyes. I never tried to tell anyone else because I didn't think they would believe me.
Each day I would get up and get dressed, get my siblings dressed (oh did I mention one of my sisters is retarded...needed constant supervision, couldn't talk, couldn't dress herself, and needed help going to the toilet.) and make them breakfast and their lunches. I also had to make my mother coffee and when she whistled from her bedroom one of us would have to take her a cup of coffee.
We used to fight over who had to go up there and take her the coffee. It was like walking into a spider's web. Whoever went up there stood a decent chance of getting slapped but mostly she would look at whatever you were wearing and make you go change. Sounds like no big deal right? No. See my mother refused to let us wear jeans and shirts to school like the other kids. Oh no, she would shop for the cheapest double knit pants with elastic waistbands that were never even remotely in fashion and of course all the other kids made fun of us. I know that sounds so petty but for the same amount of money she could have gone to Wal Mart and let us get jeans and shirts but she refused. The thing is that my parents had money...its wasn't a financial issue. It was about the fact that she had to have complete and total control. We weren't allowed to make even the smallest decisions and if we did she would beat us or take away privileges. And by "privileges" I mean being allowed to check books out of the library or watch Little House on the Prairie. We didn't have privileges like normal kids who could go play in the neighborhood or ride bikes together.
Anyway, after delivering coffee to her she would make us beg her to take us to school. She actually went through various phases where for a few months she would want us to ride the school bus and then suddenly she would change her mind and tell us we weren't allowed and that she would take us to school. When she was in one of her "I will take you to school" phases she would take her own sweet time getting ready in the morning so that we were late to school all the time. It was so embarrassing because I used to get in trouble every morning from the principal at our middle school for being late. If we tried to rush her she would get angry and scream, take away privileges, or smack us around. After school she insisted on picking us up but she was always late for that too. And the worst part about riding home from school with her was that as soon as you got in the car she would either scream at us or slap us around for some kind of infraction that she had either been stewing about all day or something she just thought up as soon as she saw us. By the time we got home she would have thought of more things to take away from us or would just start spanking us when we got in the house.
Then when we got home we could do housework, yard work, or our homework. We weren't allowed to watch TV or sit and read in the living room. If you were caught looking like you were having fun or not working at something there was trouble. Then she would tell us what she was cooking for dinner and tell us what to prepare...we did all vegetable chopping and other preparations plus setting the table. And then we cleaned up after she cooked. It was like she was doing us all some huge favor by cooking for us. I tried to escape to my bedroom as soon as I could after dinner to read or do homework. And that was pretty much what life was like. Sometimes if you were in your room she would throw open the door and scream about something you hadn't cleaned properly or other infractions. My dad was at the office most of the time and when he came home he was often drunk but at least he was usually nice to us.
When I was about 7 I had this beautiful long blonde hair that I loved and one day she said it was too much trouble so she put it in a ponytail and cut off the ponytail. I cried and cried and cried. She made me wear short hair forever after that. As an adult I now have beautiful long blonde hair. I can't figure out why she hated all of us so much. It had to have taken a lot of energy to stay so mad and to continuously ambush us with accusations. You never knew what would set her off so you had to always listen carefully to see if you could hear her coming around a corner. There was this one spot in our backyard where we sort of hollowed out a cave in some of the bushes and that was a good place to hide. If my dad was drunk and doing who-knows-what to my mom in their bedroom late at night and she was screaming I used to get my siblings together and we would just hide out there until things got quiet again.
OK thats enough depressing crap for now. Even as I write this I think that no one would ever believe this happened to anyone because I dont know anyone else who had a mother like this.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Thursday March 6, 2008
First of all, thanks to Ann and AnyBeth for checking in on me over the past couple of weeks. I really appreciate it. I stayed sober for a whole week and then we had a dinner party. I had a little wine with dinner and after the guests left I drank too much vodka while watching a late night movie. Bad move. Recently a friend of mine died after a 2 year battle with cancer. She was only 32 and its just been so sad for so many of us. It hasn't made me drink but it has made me sad and a little down. I have been drinking some but not to excess.
I drank a few cocktails last night and didn't sleep very well which sucks. I have been really cutting back because I have been so busy with work including some public speaking engagements. Nothing keeps me sober like having to speak in public...the last thing I want to do is babble like a fool because my brain feels like mush and I can't find the words to say what I want.
Ann wrote a post yesterday that just broke my heart. She talks about the difficulty she is having, now that she has tried to cut back on drinking, with dealing with overcoming some traumatic incidents from her past. That can be so tough. I have never told my husband about the horrible things that happened to me when I was a teenager. He knows about my parents abusive and alcoholic household but that is only part of the story. My father used to climb in my bed late at night and touch me when I was about 13. He finally stopped when my mom caught him but he has always looked at me inappropriately and he used to say really inappropriate and uncomfortable things to me about my body when I was in my late teens and early 20s. I always made sure to wear extra clothes and cover up when I was around him so he couldn't see much of my body.
Now my father is almost 70 years old and he doesn't do that anymore but its always been something I can't forget or really get over. I can't stand for even my husband to touch me in certain ways because it reminds me of what my dad used to do to me. I have only told one person in the world about what my dad used to do to me -- it was an old boyfriend and he just couldn't handle it. I haven't told my husband because he adores my dad and I don't want to take that away from him. I have always tried to make sure that no one could ever guess as I, too, am close to my dad but deep inside I still cant understand why he would do that to me and I feel confused about why I can't hate him.
Also when I was 17 and a virgin I was gang raped by two guys on our high school football team. I tried to just put that behind me and forget about it. I had told my "best friend" in high school who turned around and told everyone in our 400 person high school that I was a slut who had sex with 2 guys at once. That was my senior year of high school and since I lived in the Bible Belt I spent the last semester of high school and the summer afterward as a pariah. No one would talk to me because I was a slut. Suddenly guys came on to me in the most disrespectful ways and it was so hurtful. Bear in mind that prior to that incident I never really went to parties because I was home taking care of 4 younger brothers and sisters and I was considered a "good" girl. I couldn't believe that all of the sudden everyone would just turn on me and believe a rumor. No one even took me to my senior prom because of the slut label. I left that little town and moved 1,000 miles away to go to college to try to run from that. In a way that was more painful than what my dad used to do to me because at least no one knows what my dad did so they can't judge me.
After I had been out of high school for nearly 15 years I would occasionally get a phone call or random email from someone from my class who would say, "you know I have been thinking about what happened to you...I am sorry I wasn't there for you". But those calls just piss me off. I have put it behind me so when someone calls me because they feel bad about the way they treated me many years ago they are doing so to make themselves feel better. The call isn't about helping me because if it was they would just stay away and not remind me of that awful time. Plus, as far as I am concerned all those people who were so mean to me and the 2 guys who raped me can rot in hell. I am not very forgiving as you can see.
The girl who was my supposed best friend in high school tracked me down a year ago and sent me an apologetic email for what she had done. Made excuses about how she didn't really understand that I was hurting and a lot of other crap. I told her that she betrayed me and that to this day I have never nor will I ever go back to that town because of what happened. She sent me this bizarre email which just made me think she was unbalanced so I didn't reply. It was so upsetting to just be minding my own business and to receive an email that reminded of me of one of the worst times in my life.
I don't know why I just typed all that. Maybe its to let Ann know that whatever happened to her, she isn't alone.
I drank a few cocktails last night and didn't sleep very well which sucks. I have been really cutting back because I have been so busy with work including some public speaking engagements. Nothing keeps me sober like having to speak in public...the last thing I want to do is babble like a fool because my brain feels like mush and I can't find the words to say what I want.
Ann wrote a post yesterday that just broke my heart. She talks about the difficulty she is having, now that she has tried to cut back on drinking, with dealing with overcoming some traumatic incidents from her past. That can be so tough. I have never told my husband about the horrible things that happened to me when I was a teenager. He knows about my parents abusive and alcoholic household but that is only part of the story. My father used to climb in my bed late at night and touch me when I was about 13. He finally stopped when my mom caught him but he has always looked at me inappropriately and he used to say really inappropriate and uncomfortable things to me about my body when I was in my late teens and early 20s. I always made sure to wear extra clothes and cover up when I was around him so he couldn't see much of my body.
Now my father is almost 70 years old and he doesn't do that anymore but its always been something I can't forget or really get over. I can't stand for even my husband to touch me in certain ways because it reminds me of what my dad used to do to me. I have only told one person in the world about what my dad used to do to me -- it was an old boyfriend and he just couldn't handle it. I haven't told my husband because he adores my dad and I don't want to take that away from him. I have always tried to make sure that no one could ever guess as I, too, am close to my dad but deep inside I still cant understand why he would do that to me and I feel confused about why I can't hate him.
Also when I was 17 and a virgin I was gang raped by two guys on our high school football team. I tried to just put that behind me and forget about it. I had told my "best friend" in high school who turned around and told everyone in our 400 person high school that I was a slut who had sex with 2 guys at once. That was my senior year of high school and since I lived in the Bible Belt I spent the last semester of high school and the summer afterward as a pariah. No one would talk to me because I was a slut. Suddenly guys came on to me in the most disrespectful ways and it was so hurtful. Bear in mind that prior to that incident I never really went to parties because I was home taking care of 4 younger brothers and sisters and I was considered a "good" girl. I couldn't believe that all of the sudden everyone would just turn on me and believe a rumor. No one even took me to my senior prom because of the slut label. I left that little town and moved 1,000 miles away to go to college to try to run from that. In a way that was more painful than what my dad used to do to me because at least no one knows what my dad did so they can't judge me.
After I had been out of high school for nearly 15 years I would occasionally get a phone call or random email from someone from my class who would say, "you know I have been thinking about what happened to you...I am sorry I wasn't there for you". But those calls just piss me off. I have put it behind me so when someone calls me because they feel bad about the way they treated me many years ago they are doing so to make themselves feel better. The call isn't about helping me because if it was they would just stay away and not remind me of that awful time. Plus, as far as I am concerned all those people who were so mean to me and the 2 guys who raped me can rot in hell. I am not very forgiving as you can see.
The girl who was my supposed best friend in high school tracked me down a year ago and sent me an apologetic email for what she had done. Made excuses about how she didn't really understand that I was hurting and a lot of other crap. I told her that she betrayed me and that to this day I have never nor will I ever go back to that town because of what happened. She sent me this bizarre email which just made me think she was unbalanced so I didn't reply. It was so upsetting to just be minding my own business and to receive an email that reminded of me of one of the worst times in my life.
I don't know why I just typed all that. Maybe its to let Ann know that whatever happened to her, she isn't alone.
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