May I Vent for a Minute? Today I Need to Be Honest

Sitting here alone in the apartment, I am riddled with emotions that I do not know what to do with. It is a rare for me to have the apartment to myself and it gives me a chance to catch my breath and try to figure out what I’m going to do and how I’m going to handle the rest of my life.

I know some of you out there in Internet-land may think of me as a pillar of something or other, but I’m here to tell you today, that is a pile of shit.

Choosing Craziness Over Sanity

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In July 2012, I did something that I am now deeply regretting, I moved in with my brother and his new wife. When I saw new wife, I mean Angie and my brother Mike were married two weeks after we moved into a house here in town.

At first, everything seemed okay. Mike was working, Angie was doing a little of the housework, and I had returned to college. Mike and I had an understanding that he and I would split the rent and utilities so that both of us and Angie would have plenty of money.

Mike seemed to have his emotional problems under control. He was extremely involved in a church, had his alcoholism in remission, and didn’t raise his voice to get his way as he had in our childhood years.

Then something, I’m really entirely unsure what, changed.

Things Begin to Go South

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Angie and Mike announced they were pregnant with their first child. We all rejoiced, but Mike’s demeanor changed overnight. He was no longer in control of his rages, and because of what we now know is an anxiety disorder, quit his job.

Instead, for a while, he fixed clocks for a living. He’s very good at plying this trade but lacked the discipline it takes to run a small business.

By January 2012, we were in desperate need of financial help. I applied for us to have food stamps, we started going to food banks, and we ended up moving here to federal low-income housing.

“Okay,” I thought, “We’ll be capable of leaving soon.” That was now six going on seven years ago.

I continued to go to college and Angie’s pregnancy continued, but Mike’s temperament became turbulent. He began yelling and telling off Angie who, because of her own traumatic childhood, stood there and took it.

I cannot stand shouting or confrontation, so the sound of my brother being so belligerent had and still has me tied up in knots inside.

To be fair, Michael developed this coping skill very young and because no adult tried to cope with his behavior, it hasn’t changed.

Tragedy Strikes

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In early April 2013, Angie woke up and complained to my brother that she hadn’t felt the baby move for a while. Unconcerned but being cautious, Mike drove her to our local emergency room where the baby was pronounced dead in utero. She was only a few days from delivery. The doctors induced labor and after a grueling delivery of a dead baby, both parents came home empty-handed.

The aftermath of the death of Jimmy was akin to a tidal wave to our family. Any peace we had before his death was instantly gone and replaced with the turmoil that was itself a tragedy.

Mike climbed out of life and into a beer can almost immediately and remained there for several years.

Angie stayed in their bedroom quietly crying and singing Christian songs to comfort herself.

Me? Well, I finished the semester at college and soon was in a crisis of my own as I was diagnosed with breast cancer in February 2014.

I know, I know you, can’t make this shit up!

Breast Cancer

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In February 2014, they removed my right breast. At that time, Mike was drinking like a damn fish and would drive me to my appointments drunk. That winter was horrific with tons of snow and lots of ice and I would sit in the passenger seat convinced I was going to die.

To be honest, I prayed before the surgery that I would die. I just could not and still do not reconcile all I had been through as a kid, what I had been through in therapy, having lived in a stupid inpatient facility for over seven years, and now having cancer.

I was beyond angry, felt completely betrayed, and felt so damn helpless that my fear became a new monster, terror. I hadn’t felt that way since I was a child when I could not get away from the abusive circumstances I was in.

I lost what little trust I had forced myself to have in god, and it has never returned.

I Own My Conundrum

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Now I sit here in the back of our apartment struggling.

Although Mike is sober again, they have a healthy little boy also named Michael, and they are now expecting a second son, the crap that has gone on around me is making me sick.

No, not making me! I am choosing to allow the shit around me to make myself sick!

It has become clear as glass that both Angie and Mike are disabled by the maltreatment they both received in childhood. Both live in their own little world’s of hurt and don’t seem to know the steps to take to get out. As a result, Mike nor Angie work.

They are both in therapy now, but I feel outraged all the time.

I sit in my room in the back of our apartment consumed with rage inside with feelings of entrapment, hopelessness, and anger towards my brother’s family, even though it is I who chooses to stay on this goddamn train wreck.

The resentment is building and I know that sooner or later I will be forced to make a choice. Abandon ship, or die.

However, I feel that if I take my bat and ball to play elsewhere, I would feel guilty although it would bring me much more peace than I’ve had for many, many years.

I fully expect to drop dead of either a stroke or a heart attack any day now. Peace and security was and will never be for me.

But the toll their turbulent lives are having on me is enormous.

You want to know the shit of it? My brother and his family are clueless that I feel the way I do.

Neither of them works or has an income, (although Mike has applied three times now to get on disability) meaning I am the only person with an income in our house. Somehow, I manage to support a family of 4 soon to be 5 on $1,013 a month from SSDI.

That’s right folks, I pay everything I have to allow myself driven completely bonkers.

To be honest, I handled the situation I’ve gotten myself into rather well for several years, choosing to believe that things would eventually improve.

So, now I sit in my room raging inside with feelings of entrapment, hopelessness, and anger towards my brother’s family, even though it is I who chooses to stay on this goddamn train wreck.

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I guess I should expect this shit, my entire life is nothing but a long, drawn out, train wreck.

The resentment is building and I know that sooner or later I will be forced to make a choice. Abandon ship, or die.

However, I feel that if I take my bat and ball to play elsewhere, I would feel guilty although it would bring me much more peace than I’ve had for many, many years.

I fully expect to drop dead of either a stroke or a heart attack any day now.

Peace and security was and will never be for me. Sigh.

I know what I live in is a co-dependent relationship, something I said I would never allow myself to fall into again. And, again, I have chosen this shit, no one has forced or coerced me into being the doormat who takes care of everybody else but herself.

I love my family so much, and that affection is killing me.

I have made the choice to be here. I still make the choice to stay.

Who is responsible for my pain? Is it my brother’s? Is it my sister-in-law’s? Is it my nephew’s?

No, the responsibility is mine.

All mine.

There is More to My Pain than Meets the Eye

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I am very, very, very lonely. I have no close friends IRL that I can sit with and tell things to in confidence. I also have no prospects for any because I’m terrified of being hurt.

Betrayal measures large in my repertoire of emotions gleaned from the abuse for so many years perpetrated by people whom I should have been able to trust and count on.

I’m in so much pain.

So much pain.

Since my therapist Paula retired in 2016, I have watched myself falling apart at the seams.

The therapist I see now is very kind and I like her a lot. However, something is missing. I’m not sure what that thing is, I just know it is not there.

I would love to find someone to love and who will love me and hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.

But, there is no one.

None.

My anxiety is so high that I wish I could get high on prescription drugs like I did for over forty years, but I won’t.

I have remained sober for three years now.

My reasoning?

I want to remain as conscious of what I am doing as possible because I’ve spent too many years lost in the quagmire of DID and not knowing what I’ve said and done.

Besides, the last time I abused prescription meds I woke up in the hospital on the Alzheimer’s Disease wing.

I Have Just Given You a Rare Glimpse

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I have just given you an extremely rare glimpse inside my mind and life, something few have ever been allowed to view.
I mostly keep my pain and inner turmoil to myself.

I’m not sure if you should feel privileged or run away as fast as you can in horror.

I guess that’s up to you.

I do not know why I wrote this piece today. I guess to give you a sense of where I am today and to let someone in on my pain.

Or maybe I’m tired of suffering alone and I needed to show you how I really feel inside.

I’ve run out of tears and am so exhausted that I cannot use the coping skills I know to use. Just taking the next breath is hard.

My heart is so broken that it actually hurts.

You know what I want from life?

I want to live in peace

I want to feel safe

I want to feel happy

and

I do not want to die alone

I guess those things are too much to ask and to expect.

I do regret that I do not have an uplifting and brave ending to this article. I just don’t feel that way today, and I’m tired of lying.

All I can offer today is just my raw emotion.

I hope you can handle it because today I can’t.

I will leave you with the lyrics to a song by Avril Lavigne.

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Nobody’s Home

Songwriters: Ben Moody / Avril Ramona Lavigne / Don Gilmore

I couldn’t tell you
Why she felt that way
She felt it every day
And I couldn’t help her
I just watched her make
The same mistakes again

What’s wrong, what’s wrong now
Too many, too many problems
Don’t know where she belongs
Where she belongs

She wants to go home

But nobody’s home
That’s where she lies
Broken inside
With no place to go

No place to go

To dry her eyes
Broken inside

Open your eyes
And look outside

Find the reasons why

You’ve been rejected
And now you can’t find
What you left behind

Be strong, be strong now

Too many, too many problems
Don’t know where she belongs
Where she belongs

She wants to go home

But nobody’s home
That’s where she lies
Broken inside
With no place to go

No place to go

To dry her eyes
Broken inside

Her feelings she hides
Her dreams she can’t find

She’s losing her mind
She’s falling behind

She can’t find her place
She’s losing her faith
She’s falling from grace
She’s all over the place, yeah

She wants to go home

But nobody’s home

That’s where she lies
Broken inside
With no place to go
No place to go to
To dry her eyes

Broken inside

She’s lost inside, lost inside
She’s lost inside, lost inside

Nobody’s home

2 thoughts on “May I Vent for a Minute? Today I Need to Be Honest

  1. Wow, Shirley. It has been several days since you posted this, but I just wanted you to know that I read this and that I am so sorry you are in such deep pain and are feeling so alone. I hope sharing some of your feelings brought a little bit of relief and knowing people out here read what you write reminds you that there are people out here in the world who are thinking of you, sending good, peaceful, encouraging thoughts your way. You are honest, strong, sober, clear minded, extremely insightful and bright… Don’t wait to die in a train wreck. Get off the train. 🙂 ~Lemony

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    1. Thanks Lari. Again, I needed to hear this. The train is at least a slow moving one so I can get off the tracks anytime I want. Do you feel like the entire world has lost its mind? That’s how I feel about the state of what is going on here in the states and globally. I can’t be the only one who wishes they could be beamed up and taken away from this crazy situation. I feel terrified inside and that intensifies my symptoms. Sigh. I hear the horn on the train blowing and have no place to go. Just like when I was a kid. Anyway, I deeply appreciate your helpful words. Shirley

      Like

Thank you for commenting! Shirley

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