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Jenton 
My last visit with the therapist we spoke a good deal about how I felt during different events during my childhood such as the abuse from my mother, her suicide attempt and when she killed my father and the aftermath. Sue would ask me “did you feel afraid for your life?” or she stated “so you felt abandoned”. I had talked to her about my mother’s total lack of emotion. After the session, this led me to thinking about the emotions that were experienced in our home that I remember growing up. Oddly, the only emotions that I really remember were fear, anger, anxiety, sadness and depression (if depression is an emotion).
I do not remember hardly ANY happiness, joy, or pleasure. I do remember once when my daddy took me by the hands and tried to "dance" and sing a silly song with me. I remember pulling away because it frightened me. I was so unaccustomed to any such "fun" I didn't realize what he was trying to do. Later on after I did realize what he had been trying to do that day I was so sad and so regretted not realizing he was trying to be happy and play with me and I missed the opportunity because I didn't even understand and pulled away which probably made him feel I was rejecting him and thus not attempt it again. But at least when I think back I smile to myself remembering his attempt. One small glimmer of joy.
Just a couple of days ago, my nephew’s cousin on his mother’s side (Vicky) posted some old family photos on facebook some of which had my nephew Philip as a baby as well as my brother Sammy in them so I went to her album to look at them. I knew most of her family as well. She had many, many old photos. They seemed to have gotten together frequently and had big family meals. Then something struck me. In all these photos all the people are almost always smiling! These were poor people like we were. A couple of the women had skin cancer so bad it had eaten their faces nearly off and finally through the years they were bedridden until it killed them – yet they were still in the photos and all still smiling! That is what a family is supposed to be like. That’s what life should be like. Their life was hard; they had their share of hard times for sure. But they had love and some joy and they had good times with one another and that makes life worthwhile. It makes life livable and that’s what I’ve never had but always longed for.
I thought about what very few photos there are of our family. And there were none of big family gatherings like those, yet our family is huge! But the most striking thing is, of all the old photos I can remember there are hardly any smiles, even the little kids. Even at my sister’s wedding at our home. It looked more like a funeral on the faces than a wedding! Just solemn faces. Always.
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Today would be my 32nd anniversary. Been divorced about 2+/-years. Some good years, some good memories but the last 10 years were hell. Steve must be remembering too. He sent me an email with a picture of the two of us somewhere smiling at each other. No message, no nothing, just the photo. I was a bit surprised since the last communication I had gotten from him was a text page to call me a
bi%ch to which I did not respond. I wish things could have been different, I wish he would have went to counseling and taken antidepressants but he refused. I wish he could have understood that coming from a violent childhood I could not take even a hint of violent behavior. Screaming, shouting, breaking and throwing things sent me into shock and kept me a nervous wreck.
But in other ways he was a good man. He was a generous person. He would give anyone whatever he could that they needed. There was not a lazy bone in his body. He worked very hard. He embraced and loved my family and did more for them than probably most men would.
Sometimes when I think about the affairs and the lies and the things he said and what I let him do to me I feel like I hate him. But I know I don't hate him. I just hate what he did. I know he had a mid-life crisis. I know he was bipolar and refused to get help and I hate that. I hate how stubborn he was. But I don't really hate him. Just some days I feel like I do, I think it is just anger trying to come out though. If I did I would not have wanted to have made a pot of soup last week to send to him when Sam told me he was sick with the flu. I didn't because I don't want to send the wrong message to him. I still care. I still deep inside love him. But as some old song says, "sometimes love just ain't enough". I still can't live with him.
Even though I'm lonely I have peace and I don't feel stress like I felt living with him. I have to remind myself how I would get out of bed before he did to enjoy a few minutes of peace in the morning and the minute I heard his feet hit the floor I would tense up wondering truly which side of the bed he got up on that day and it was usually the "wrong" side and there was no way of knowing what the reason was or why. Years of this stress really took it's toll. Mentally and physically. I've read that for every 4 years you were married it takes 1 year to recover from divorce. We had been married 30 years when we divorced, I guess I have a long way to go!
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Yes, maybe you do have a long way to go.....but it also sounds like you truly have come a long way, too!
You sound as if you are in a good place now, and generally when that happens.....other good things follow! You seem to be very patient, tolerable to a point, know what you will & won't accept, and seem to know yourself very well.
I hope that you get over the loneliness, and that you find very good friends who you can talk to, as well as socialize, and i have a little prediction for you. YOu will find love again, when you least expect it!!!
Thanks for sharing your journal. I think it will be very insightful for many women. Lonely is one thing, but it is a little better, a whole lot better than being under constant stress and walking on eggshells!
I'm proud of you for your progress. Thanks again for sharing!
Now that I'm done whining about all I've lost it felt better to let it out. But I feel guilty for complaining. So many have things worse. I am still very grateful that I have a warm place to live with a roof over my head, a good job, even though we are furloughed with a pay cut which hurts financially, I still have a job, which many do not. Good insurance. A really good car, though it is well used, it is paid for. And a little brother who thinks he can not live without me nor go 2 days without talking to me. ;-) For all these things I am thankful.
UPDATED GOALS
Exercise at least 3X week
Progress 10%
Encouragements: 1
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Sweetie, it's not whining, it's journalling -- if you can't let it out somewhere, I think heads have been known to explode (well...not literally...but if you've waded through some of my uber-whiney journals, you know that I'm not immune...). But really, we all need a safe place to say that sometimes life stinks....not all of it, not all of the time...but if it were perfect here, we'd call it heaven. I am glad you are also able to find to little sparkles of heaven that are among us all...and glad that you've reduced the chances of EHS (Exploding Head Syndrome)!
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Hey Jenton, I have to agree with frogerina. Keep doing what your doing. You sound alot better. Just getting it out makes you feel better. I'm with ya. I hope you have a good weekend. Even tho we have been having rain all week. BIG HUGE HUGS, Peach
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Goal Updated
Yupp, Jenton, I know what you mean about those blank stared photos with little emotion, similar to those holocaust victims. It is a shame that your childhood was not even sprinkled with more good memories of love, attention, and happiness. It's a shame that you, too, lived a life, modeled for you, by a very very sick mother, who never got the help, she needed.
Thereby, she raised a little girl, who grew up way too fast, with no real coping skills or tools to deal with this stuff. I can imagine that you did feel very abandoned emotionally, isolated, and very sad. I, too, have had a similar upbringing in which Mom was abusive (thank God things turned around later in my adult life), and was controlled by fear, lots of fear. Then we grow up also, being huge worriers, afraid of things, and so often these terrible memories come back as we get older when we feel we're being abused at the workplace, and the cycle repeats itself, and we feel that post-traumatic stress over and over again! How can it not repeat itself? It's all we've ever known!
Just wanted to share with you, that I can relate, and I so comiserate with you for your horrible past. Your was worse than mine, in the sense of your mother actually murdering your father, and her being suicidal! Gosh, how I wish, I could turn back the hands of time, and just pick you up, and embrace that sweet little girl, you were, and to have pulled you out of that misery, and aloneness!
We are indeed, two sisters of a kind, plus my other 3 sisters have also encountered alot of problems due to our sick childhood! Just know, that you can now, embrace your inner child, and relive your life the way you must, and that is one way that I've overcome some of the hurdles! It's not perfect, never will be, but it is getting better! Take care of yourself, and thanks for posting. Everytime I read your stuff, I could just break down in tears! Huge hugs to you sister!
blondegal55
Oh yeah, another thing I forgot...
Talk with your therapist, if you haven't already, about that concept: post-traumatic stress from your childhood, and the possibility of it resurfacing, and how to deal with that! My counselor helped me a lot, in giving me validation (which we both probably got hardly none in our childhood), and that helped me alot in knowing and sharing. It makes you realize that you aren't off the deep end, and that it's a miracle you are alive, and even doing well in your life. So many bad things could have resulted due to our childhood upringing! In one way, we are huge survivors, and we also need to have validation, approval, and acceptance, all the things we missed out on! It's kind of like, going thru developmental stages, so we can grow and mature! Anyway, it helped me a lot, when my counselor told me that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, cuz now I could put a label to it, and I knew that I wasn't exaggerating anything. It also helped to explain more pieces of the puzzle, so that I could learn to, and I had to, move on, after tons of grieving!
Again, best of luck to you! And give that inner child a huge hug for me!!!
blondegal55