Detoxing - Fentanyl with hell, my life. - Part 23

By lostlygirl · Nov 27, 2014 · ·
  1. Aahhh, yes, JD, there is definitely a dark side to all of this, a very dark side. I haven't reached that part yet or what happened after she died. I wasn't sure if I was even going to write it, but perhaps I will. I have several journals she wrote which give me a small glimpse into her thoughts. I have also asked people she was close with to write their perspective on her.

    Your story, JD, the one with your grandfather, was a betrayal beyond words. I can understand your anger at your mother, which was already a complex relationship to begin with. Why did your mother not protect you? It is interesting that you had very controlling parents, and yet they didn't control your grandfathers access to you? Why?

    I am beginning to understand where you are right now quite a bit better. I have several questions which I will hold back on until you are ready to answer them. They cut right to the core, meaning, that they are going to be emotionally painful and difficult questions. Just as your question to me a while back cut through the crap and right to the core. (Which I still haven't answered. I have not forgotten it and fully intend to answer it, I'm getting there, lol! :) ).

    Let me know when you are ready. Timing is important in this journey. We have to be ready to listen to our answers. Interestingly enough they only involve your attacks in relation to your current relationships, physical beauty, and underlying motivations. When revealing ourselves we often start with the stories that play a supporting role, but are not typically the main event. I have a feeling neither of us have truly delved into that yet. Sarcastically, happy days await!

    I am off to put the turkey in the oven!

    Hugs, xxoo

    lostlygirl added 23 Minutes and 16 Seconds later...

    JD, I realize you posted the story of your grandfather to point out that there are events in our parents life we often have no idea about.

    I have a feeling there may be walls around you and that you let very few people in (and then not even close to all the way), and only for a short time. Have you ever let anyone in all the way? How far have you let your counselors in?

    I am asking because I love you, my friend, and I apologize if the question/observation is incorrect, as it very well could be.

    Hugs, xxoo


  1. Jungledog

    To answer your questions, yes, I have let my husband into my hurt. All the way? No. Does anyone really let another person in all the way? I think not. I think there are parts that are reserved for ourselves only. Have I told my shrink? Parts of it but again there are things I am not willing to share. Not sure if I ever will. I have written much of it out for myself and that helped me sort it. Of course, I then erased what I wrote.

    My key emotional issues surround the unhealthy relationship I have with my mother and my rapes. These events left me feeling physically and emotionally vulnerable. My husband came along early in my life and made me feel protected. When our marriage began to crash and burn, my security blanket ceased to exist. I found not safety but numbness in the oxycodone. Perhaps that will answer some of your questions.

    I am quite aware of my issues. I grew up in a very pressured environment and a dysfunctional family. My parents were busy living perfect lives. Why did she not protect me? I don't know. Perhaps she was afraid of him as he was violent. Perhaps she just wanted to hold on to the illusion of a perfect family and ignoring the situation helped her do this. I do know that her poor choices led to me being a very good mother. I was probably a bit overprotective when it came to my children. NO adults were ever given unsupervised access to my children except my parents and in-laws (and although both sets have some fucked up issues, none of them are sexual predators). I talked to my kids very early on and taught them about inappropriate touching, that it is not ok, and what to do if it happened. I have raised two very empowered and strong young women. My son is strong and yet thoughtful. They are also very happy. I watched them laugh and giggle today at our holiday dinner and realized I don't have that joy...that untethered happiness that comes from growing up in a secure and safe environment.

    When my daughters were about 4 and 6, my grandfather's new wife (whom I think was the first person he loved and for whom he had sobered up and turned into a new man) asked if they could have the girls over for the night. She was a lovely person and I know she would have been fine. But I told her "I don't allow my children to sleep away from home." When she left the room, my grandfather asked again and I told him "Over my dead fucking body will you EVER have access to my daughters." He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. I have never told my father. He loved his Dad and I just don't see the point of hurting him. He is dead now anyhow.

    As for my rapes, why did they happen? And why do men think it is totally appropriate to touch me or ask for sex? I am not sure. I think part of the problem is I am attractive. Most of my life I have been a size 2 and very well proportioned. I used to worry that maybe it was the way I dressed, or spoke, or behaved but I realized I was simply blaming myself for what they did. I think that some men think of physically beautiful women as simply objects. Objects that they can do with what they want.

    How has this affected my current relationship with my husband? Well, I think I originally was attracted to him because I knew he could protect me. He is a very large man who has a black belt. He can kill you about a 100 different ways with just his hands. As I got to know him I realized his heart was as big as the rest of him and he loved me for me, not for my body. Our greatest issue was him refusing to treat underlying mental health issues that he had. After 20 something years of dealing with this, I finally told him either get treatment or I am getting out. I FINALLY started thinking about me. I have spent my life caring for everyone (my family, patients, friends) except myself. It is why I have AI. Part is the opiate use but in reality the opiates were just icing on the fucking cake...they pushed a lifetime of stress, indescribable hurt, and anger over the line of what I could manage. Ironically, opiates probably saved my ass. This was the wake up call that I was destroying myself over past hurts. Resolving the hurts is my path to healing. I know that but it doesn't make it any easier, ya know?

    Anyhow, yes I was pointing out that it is quite likely that your mother had a deep hurt somewhere. And I bet she didn't put that hurt in her journals as I know I journal and I have never written it anywhere as I do not want my children to or ever. What purpose would that serve? I think for you the greatest challenge was that you lost your mother when you were still a child. Your memories of her are not adult memories but those of a confused, lost teenager who wished more than anything that her mother had been strong enough to stay. I am sad for your loss and it should not have happened just as all the shit I survived should not have happened. But it did and somewhere in the hurt we both have to find our injured childhood selves and walk their confused asses to present time.

  2. Cmenot
    JD, I had a thought that maybe your Mom never thought for a moment that grandpa would commit an incestuous act. There is a VAST difference between hitting on his son's wife who is not a blood relative and molesting a related child. Honestly, some people's brains don't go there, especially in the older generations when these type of things were NOT discussed. So maybe the possibility never occurred to your Mom. I'm so sorry that it happened to you..
    LG your story is very interesting and you write very well. I look forward to more..
  3. Jungledog

    Yes that is a possibility. I really no longer hate my mother. On many levels I feel sorry for her. She seems so very out of touch with reality. I have tried to have some sort of relationship but we are very, very different. She is proud of me but sometimes I think she is more impressed with my PhD than with me as a person. I don't know. Relationships are so complicated.

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