Sunday 14 October 2012

Burning House

I'm trying really hard right now to balance venting my pain and examining my contribution to the fact that my home is currently burning to the ground. I'm not very good at digging deep and I'm even less at ease with (or even aware of) where exactly I went wrong.

Have I overly victimized myself so that I don't have to believe I am responsible for some of the things that have contributed to why my family is struggling so badly? Is that the identity I have created in my own head so that I can live with myself?

I have many qualities and a few big demons I hide. If you were to meet me in the street or in a business setting, you would probably say I appear confident, cautious, even-tempered, considerate. Yet, those are probably the least authentic traits about me. I suffer from anxiety attacks daily and have since I was 18 or 19 years old. Sometimes they only happen mildly once a day, more often they hit me up to 6 or 7 times a day and I believe that I am dying. Nobody knows when I'm having them, but I am always having them. I am introverted, painfully shy at times and haven't created a genuine intimate relationship with anybody in over 7 years. I don't have a best friend (even though a few people think they are my best friend, it's really not true). While I work very hard at keeping my emotions in check, I am at a point where I become easily exhausted and I have melt-downs at home a few times a week. I used to only loose my temper every few months. I am also shrewd and manipulative. I create distractions and illusions to convince my work peers, my relatives and my acquaintances that I am loyal, hard-working and committed to the greater good of the company, family, etc...The truth is that I am just throwing cover to make sure you don't see how weak, fragile and emotional I am.

I have had no contact with any member of my own family (on purpose) for more than 10 years. I will share that story another time. I think of them often and every month or so I google them to see what they are doing, where they are with their lives, do I have any nieces or nephews, and if anybody has died.

I sound cold and callous, don't I? Maybe even a bit nuts...Seriously though, you would never know any of this if you met me at a Starbucks, at a meeting or passed me in the hallway. I am all smoke and mirrors.

My son wasn't born an addict. My husband might have been one before I met him, but his disease certainly progressed over the past several years we have been together. Am I the match that lit the fire to start the fire in my burning house? Someone please call the fire department and pull us out of this burning house! Is booze and heroin the only way out of this burning house that I lit fire to?


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