My crazy emotions
Lord, I feel like I am on a roller coaster ride of my own choosing now. Yesterday I felt strong, sure, and determined. This morning I woke up feeling a vague sense of unease which then escalated to full blown panic mode--the whole nine yards; sickness, dizziness, tightness in the chest, trembling--Jesus I am starting to think I really am the one with the damn issues. I have NEVER in my life had panic issues; at least I don't think I have (and I think I would likely know this, wouldn't I?!), but the past week they have been coming fast and furiously. I am just thankful that so far, nothing has happened like what I have heard is possible during a panic attack. I am still able to talk myself "down" from it, and I can still function somewhat normally, but I'm kind of worried that it may escalate.
On a positive note, I am still putting one foot in front of the other--still continuing on with small steps to break free. I guess that is all I can expect of myself right now because even those small steps sometimes feel like taking a hike up a sheer incline. I am exhausted: emotionally, physically, mentally...you name it. There are times when I feel that I can't even express myself properly because the words I am trying to say just are lost to me. At least when I was burying my head in the sand, I think I was able to speak without losing my train of thought or having a freaking anxiety attack. I THINK.
I finally broke the silence yesterday with two family members. I talked to my aunt who hasn't lived in this state for years, although growing up she and I were incredibly close (she is only 8 years older than me and treated me more like her baby sister than her niece growing up). I told her things I have never said to anyone outside of counseling and here on the forum, and we both cried more than a little. It appears that this violent relationship crap is a theme that runs throughout the entire family--or at least most of us. I've been trying to talk to my dad for about a week, but each time I try my words seize up in my throat, I start to go into panic mode, and I end up talking about some mundane crap that I really don't have a shred of interest in just to have an excuse for calling him. What's with that?! Anyway, talking to Toni seemed to shed some light into the situation and made me feel a little bit better--last night at least.
I also had a long conversation with my sister. I was trying to break through her denial and make her see that this has to stop. We are raising this generation to continue the patterns that we were taught as children and that have apparently been going on for generations before we were even thought of. I told her that basically this story is played out and it is time for us to rewrite a new story for their sakes. I also told her that I have been trying to be gentle with her for fear of alienating her, but basically f that. I am her sister and those are my nephews and I am scared for their safety. That she is in denial about how dangerous her situation (and the boys') really is and that I am scared for them. I told her some of my story, parts that she didn't know which correlate almost exactly to her's. That's how I know what is coming and what she is in store for, and most importantly--what the boys are in store for. Mine may not be a drug addict (although the jury is still out on that), but in many other ways they are scarily similar. I think I may have broken through a little bit, who knows. She cried and told me that she had been thinking she was suffering from postpartum depression or that something was really wrong with her because she is so up and down emotionally all the time. It makes me so sad to know that she is going through this, and I pray that together we can find the way out. Sometimes just knowing that someone else hears you and understands helps tremendously I've found.
I am aggravated because I also found out that my youngest brother and his girlfriend have been sleeping in their truck for the past week--the temperatures here have been negative for many nights--I won't even let my cat out for longer than 10 minute spans of time. Apparently he had called my mother and she told him that she was sorry but she couldn't even ask Louie (my stepfather) because he would get angry if she asked for them to stay there. (They have a huge house with 4 bedrooms and just the two of them living there; he let his nephew's pregnant girlfriend move in last year for 7 months when his nephew kicked her out, yet you cannot even offer shelter to family?!) I finally was able to reach my brother, but he refused anything other than a meal and the $11 that I had in my pocket. He said they needed to stay closer to that area because they had places they had to go, services they needed to reach, and they don't have money to drive up and down the roads. I begged, I cried, I tried to badger him into coming to my house--figured I would deal with the fallout later--but to no avail. I get my mom's situation, I truly do...but at the same time, this has always been her modus operandi. I am sad that so many years of being abused have left her unable to feel--I don't know how else to put it. This is just one more thing that I see and I realize that I don't want to go here. I can already see parts of her in myself--the denial, the minimizing, the low self-esteem, I don't want to EVER get to the point where turning my own children away is okay to keep the peace!!!!!!!! Lord, the harder I dig into my own personal situation, the more dysfunction I am uncovering in my own family. This goes so much deeper than my relationship I realize, and I just want it to stop here...I don't want my own kids to have these issues, and I'm afraid it is too late.
I started thinking about an incident when I got so angry with my mother while Theresa was still alive. The cancer had by this point metastasized to her bones and she was in extreme pain much of the time. There were days when she couldn't even get out of bed. My mom didn't work, and she lived right next door to my sister. I was working in Upper Marlboro on this particular day, about an hour and a half from where my sister lived. I always called and checked on her several times throughout the day, but this particular day I had only been able to reach her before I left for work--at which time she told me that she was having a bad day and had fallen trying to reach the bathroom that morning. She said that she was feeling a little bit better and was going to try to continue on with her day as planned. I couldn't reach her the next several times I tried and I was starting to freak out. So I called my mom. Big mistake. She told me she couldn't go over there (literally next door!!) because the phone didn't work that far from the house and if Louie called and she didn't answer he would be angry. I lost it on her. I can't remember exactly everything I said at the time, but I made her cry. I felt horrible, but God I was SO angry with her!!!!!! It was beyond me to understand how she could be so utterly hopelessly controlled (although I do realize the irony of that statement!) I ended up leaving work and driving down there and Thank GOD for that--because my sister was violently ill and unable to get up off the floor in the bathroom. Honestly, I love my mom, but I still don't think I have forgiven her for that incident. It wasn't long after this that my sister passed away. It wouldn't have made any difference to her life span sure, but it would have made a difference to her quality of life, or to make her feel loved and cared for in the end.
Okay, enough sadness and ruminating for the morning.
On a positive note, I am still putting one foot in front of the other--still continuing on with small steps to break free. I guess that is all I can expect of myself right now because even those small steps sometimes feel like taking a hike up a sheer incline. I am exhausted: emotionally, physically, mentally...you name it. There are times when I feel that I can't even express myself properly because the words I am trying to say just are lost to me. At least when I was burying my head in the sand, I think I was able to speak without losing my train of thought or having a freaking anxiety attack. I THINK.
I finally broke the silence yesterday with two family members. I talked to my aunt who hasn't lived in this state for years, although growing up she and I were incredibly close (she is only 8 years older than me and treated me more like her baby sister than her niece growing up). I told her things I have never said to anyone outside of counseling and here on the forum, and we both cried more than a little. It appears that this violent relationship crap is a theme that runs throughout the entire family--or at least most of us. I've been trying to talk to my dad for about a week, but each time I try my words seize up in my throat, I start to go into panic mode, and I end up talking about some mundane crap that I really don't have a shred of interest in just to have an excuse for calling him. What's with that?! Anyway, talking to Toni seemed to shed some light into the situation and made me feel a little bit better--last night at least.
I also had a long conversation with my sister. I was trying to break through her denial and make her see that this has to stop. We are raising this generation to continue the patterns that we were taught as children and that have apparently been going on for generations before we were even thought of. I told her that basically this story is played out and it is time for us to rewrite a new story for their sakes. I also told her that I have been trying to be gentle with her for fear of alienating her, but basically f that. I am her sister and those are my nephews and I am scared for their safety. That she is in denial about how dangerous her situation (and the boys') really is and that I am scared for them. I told her some of my story, parts that she didn't know which correlate almost exactly to her's. That's how I know what is coming and what she is in store for, and most importantly--what the boys are in store for. Mine may not be a drug addict (although the jury is still out on that), but in many other ways they are scarily similar. I think I may have broken through a little bit, who knows. She cried and told me that she had been thinking she was suffering from postpartum depression or that something was really wrong with her because she is so up and down emotionally all the time. It makes me so sad to know that she is going through this, and I pray that together we can find the way out. Sometimes just knowing that someone else hears you and understands helps tremendously I've found.
I am aggravated because I also found out that my youngest brother and his girlfriend have been sleeping in their truck for the past week--the temperatures here have been negative for many nights--I won't even let my cat out for longer than 10 minute spans of time. Apparently he had called my mother and she told him that she was sorry but she couldn't even ask Louie (my stepfather) because he would get angry if she asked for them to stay there. (They have a huge house with 4 bedrooms and just the two of them living there; he let his nephew's pregnant girlfriend move in last year for 7 months when his nephew kicked her out, yet you cannot even offer shelter to family?!) I finally was able to reach my brother, but he refused anything other than a meal and the $11 that I had in my pocket. He said they needed to stay closer to that area because they had places they had to go, services they needed to reach, and they don't have money to drive up and down the roads. I begged, I cried, I tried to badger him into coming to my house--figured I would deal with the fallout later--but to no avail. I get my mom's situation, I truly do...but at the same time, this has always been her modus operandi. I am sad that so many years of being abused have left her unable to feel--I don't know how else to put it. This is just one more thing that I see and I realize that I don't want to go here. I can already see parts of her in myself--the denial, the minimizing, the low self-esteem, I don't want to EVER get to the point where turning my own children away is okay to keep the peace!!!!!!!! Lord, the harder I dig into my own personal situation, the more dysfunction I am uncovering in my own family. This goes so much deeper than my relationship I realize, and I just want it to stop here...I don't want my own kids to have these issues, and I'm afraid it is too late.
I started thinking about an incident when I got so angry with my mother while Theresa was still alive. The cancer had by this point metastasized to her bones and she was in extreme pain much of the time. There were days when she couldn't even get out of bed. My mom didn't work, and she lived right next door to my sister. I was working in Upper Marlboro on this particular day, about an hour and a half from where my sister lived. I always called and checked on her several times throughout the day, but this particular day I had only been able to reach her before I left for work--at which time she told me that she was having a bad day and had fallen trying to reach the bathroom that morning. She said that she was feeling a little bit better and was going to try to continue on with her day as planned. I couldn't reach her the next several times I tried and I was starting to freak out. So I called my mom. Big mistake. She told me she couldn't go over there (literally next door!!) because the phone didn't work that far from the house and if Louie called and she didn't answer he would be angry. I lost it on her. I can't remember exactly everything I said at the time, but I made her cry. I felt horrible, but God I was SO angry with her!!!!!! It was beyond me to understand how she could be so utterly hopelessly controlled (although I do realize the irony of that statement!) I ended up leaving work and driving down there and Thank GOD for that--because my sister was violently ill and unable to get up off the floor in the bathroom. Honestly, I love my mom, but I still don't think I have forgiven her for that incident. It wasn't long after this that my sister passed away. It wouldn't have made any difference to her life span sure, but it would have made a difference to her quality of life, or to make her feel loved and cared for in the end.
Okay, enough sadness and ruminating for the morning.
Replies
Firstly, the roller coaster is NOT of your choosing. You didn\'t choose an abusive partner, you chose a partner who turned out to be abusive.
Secondly, my own panic attacks only started after I realised how desperately I needed to get out, and how hard it was going to be to do so, and do so safely. And they stopped when I DID get out safely. Sometimes, it does have to get worse before it gets better. But keep plugging away at those steps. It doesn\'t matter how small, it doesn\'t matter how often you need to take a break. Just keep stepping. Gonna now plug a bit that I wrote on the board a few months ago about just this: http://www.dailystrength.org/c/Physical_Emotional_Abuse/forum/17263999-mountain
I also want to say that I love that you are seeing this as an intergenerational issue. That you are seeing played out the patterns of past generations - and that you want to stop those patterns playing out in future generations. This is a HUGE point. And you are seeing it so clearly. You can see some of the irony in what you write, about your sister\'s situation and your mother\'s choices. And you can see it has to change.
You may not feel it, but I see a great deal of strength in this journal. A great deal.
Thank you! I want to read what you linked but since I\'m using my phone, it won\'t let me open a new tab. I\'ll haveto try to get to library tomorrow to read it :-)