My therapist has asked me to write down a list of my emotional traumas.
A list of all the emotionally and physically traumatic experiences that have happened to me in my life, that have contributed to my Bipolar Disorder and PTSD.
Right now, my therapist doesn’t feel as though I’m ready for the therapy called Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR). As far as I understand, I have to relive physical and emotional traumatic experiences, have the proper emotional response, get over it, then have Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) so I can develop some sort of coping mechanism for the future.
But until my medications are adjusted and I’m in a better place, I have to wait.
So, here is my list:
Sexual abuse around age 3 by a family member. I repressed this memory until it slapped me in the face at age 12, causing an intense anxiety attack.
Constant arguing between my parents, thanks to my father’s alcoholism, gambling and pain issues due to needing a hip replacement. The pain issue turned into an anger issue; turned into a power tool being thrown at my mother, missing, and going through the window and landing at my feet; followed by an argument on a holiday with my father resulting in me taking a heavy duty power torch to the head.
As a “gifted child,” I was bullied a lot in primary school and high school. I still carry some of those emotional scars with me.
Funnily enough, my brain is currently trying to stop me from accessing more memories. Suck it, brain; stop being a whiny bitch and let me write this shit out.
When I was 16, my mother – being severely depressed – attempted suicide several times. The last time she tried, she had an argument with my father (now a better man, nothing like his days in my earlier life), and downed a ton of pills. I found her and her suicide note. I actively suppress the things written on that note thanks to the emotional trauma but I know how it began.
That sentence haunts me in my dreams. She is fine now, thankfully, but I refused to talk about it with anyone and pretended it never happened.
I was diagnosed with severe anxiety disorder when I had a panic attack at high school so bad my heart rate was 180, and I had to be rushed to hospital for fear of doing damage to my heart.
Since that day, I regularly have heart palpitations.
I had a psychotic episode at 17, when voices told me to stab my mother. I became paralyzed in my own bed while lights shone down from the ceiling, and I was convinced aliens were coming for me, despite my logical brain telling me I was being stupid.
I was diagnosed with endometriosis and told I should probably have children before 25. I’m currently a week away from my 24th birthday. Talk about another emotional trauma.
I dated a Muslim man for eight months. Toward the end of the relationship, I was emotionally abused, when he called me a dog. I went running into the arms of a male friend.
I decided I was the worst person in the world and went off screwing any guy who looked my way, drinking myself into oblivion, and eating pills like candy, just to numb the pain. I wanted to be used. I asked my male friend – now my fuck buddy – if he was using me for sex. He replied yes. I cried and said, “good.
” Turned out he wasn’t using me: he was in love with me; as a result of my promiscuity, and his inability to tell me how he felt, he quit university, broken-hearted.
I started dating my current partner, whom I have been with for five years now. We lived with his sister, her fiancé, and their daughter. His sister is a lazy bully who cannot look after herself, let alone children (currently a total of three). Her fiancé is a violent, alcoholic gambler. After being made a prisoner in my own bedroom, we got our own place.
My diagnosis of fibromyalgia explained my constant pain and tiredness. Yay for inheriting every single shitty illness my parents have.
Recently, I have started to have feelings for a close friend, who also has a partner. While drunk, we have made twice. I have feelings for him, but he is just attracted to me. I have immense guilt over betraying my partner, who is emotionally stunted. I think I’m just attracted to my friend because he has the social and emotional skills my partner lacks.
I was severely bullied at my last job until I began having daily panic attacks and getting into a screaming matches with a higher-up and former friend.
I decided to self-harm and contemplated suicide when the medication I was taking for five years stopped working. Unfortunately, while the medication stopped working, my now non-existant libido did not return.
Have also suffered dermatillomania (chronic skin-picking) for most of my life, particularly my feet. It is disgusting.
Currently, I am plagued by insomnia, headaches, anxiety, shame, severe depression, guilt, and every other horrible feeling imaginable. According to my therapist, I have feelings of low self-worth. According to my friends, I have a much lower opinion of myself than everyone else does of me.
I am both numb and emotionally unstable. I can’t cry, even though I really want to let it out. I think of myself as selfish and horrible, a terrible person who doesn’t deserve what I have. I theorize that I have some subconscious need to sabotage myself. Every time something is going well, just to add some drama in my life. Why I do this, I don’t know. And as I have written this list in such a cold, emotionless manner, I find it odd that I can be so numb and feel so many negative emotions at the same time. I feel like a robot.
I don’t want sympathy. At least, I don’t think I do. I am just tired. Tired of struggling through every day with these issues. I want the problems to just magically disappear because I’m tired of fighting.
I know it’s a long road ahead to my recovery. And as much as I don’t want to relive the aforementioned memories, I am also excited for the first time in ages because maybe, finally, with proper therapy…
A traumatic experience can mean a number of different things, from being a victim of some form of abuse or life-threatening situation, to witnessing any event where a person’s life or physical safety is threatened or where sexual violence occurs.
Many people report few symptoms or are able to bounce back relatively quickly after experiencing a trauma. And while resilience is our natural tendency as humans, some people find that the typical course of healing goes astray and many symptoms remain. This persistence of symptoms is known as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
PTSD symptoms, including nightmares, upsetting memories of the event, avoiding reminders of the trauma, and increased depression, anxiety, guilt, shame, and irritability or anger, can remain with a person for a long time, even many years, after the initial traumatic event is over. These longer lasting symptoms can interfere with our lives and prevent people from achieving some of the goals that may be most important to them, including performing well at work or school, or forming close and trusting connections with friends and loved ones.
Trauma and addiction have a two way relationship: people who have experienced trauma in the past are more apt to abuse drugs and alcohol as a means to cope with emotional stress; while people who abuse drugs and/or alcohol are more likely to experience a traumatic event due to their addictions. Recent studies indicate that nearly half of people who have PTSD also meet the criteria for substance use and abuse, and 75% of people who are dealing with addiction have experienced trauma(s) in their lives. In addition, many people who abuse substances also have underly
It’s unfortunate that while addiction and substance use and abuse often do help with the feelings of trauma in the short term; however avoiding emotional issues can’t last forever.
Understanding Vicarious Trauma, Compassion Fatigue, And Burnout:
Vicarious trauma generally involves a shift in the way you view the world; your beliefs about the world may be altered and/or damaged by repeated exposure to traumatic material, for example.
Compassion fatigue and burnout are related concepts that share some similarities with vicarious trauma, and a person might find themselves experiencing one or more of these states at the same time. For the purposes of this resource page, we are going to use vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue interchangeably, but for reference, the comparison is written below.
Compassion fatigue is the condition of emotional and physical fatigue that results when you feel compassion for those you care for, see on the news, hear about on the television but do not have adequate time away to refuel and care for themselves. It differs from vicarious trauma in that it is not typically characterized by the presence of trauma-related symptoms and does not necessarily involve a change in one’s world view.
Burnout is a term sometimes used interchangeably with vicarious trauma, but this condition does not necessarily involve a traumatic element. People can experience burnout when they have a toxic work environment or when they feel themselves to be doing tedious or otherwise trying work without getting enough time for rest or appropriate self-care.
What is Vicarious Trauma?
The term was first used by in 1990; vicarious trauma described the constant barrage of life and death situations experienced by nurses, doctors, therapists, first responders, and the police. To really nail down this definition, the American Counseling Association defines vicarious trauma as a “state of tension and/or preoccupation of the stories and trauma experienced by others.” It’s also sometimes referred to as secondary trauma or compassion fatigue.
With all that’s been going on in the world, it’s no wonder so many of us of walk around like zombies, trying to understand how to feel good when life – and the world seems so terrible. Social media has connected us, obviously, but it also tends to show us much suffering of others. And with all the events screaming through your Facebook (or Twitter) accounts, it can become incredibly difficult for us to feel happiness. A lot of us take social media breaks, only to find the same issues blaring at us through our television.
And it’s hard to look away; you want to support campaigns like #MeToo, send love to the survivors of mass shootings, and pray (if that’s the sort of things you do) for those losing house and home. It’s the number of awful of events occurring every single day that can make us fearful, unhappy, depressed, apathetic, and/or pessimistic.
As the speed of news flashes before us, barely giving us the chance to breathe in between horrifying things going on, it’s important for us to understand how these traumas affect us. Are they leading to bad, awful feelings? Are we reminding ourselves to take extra care of ourselves during this stressful time? Are we isolating ourselves from loved ones? Are we behaving differently; as though the constant threat is looming over us? Vicarious trauma is considered to be the cost of caring for others.
For many years, vicarious trauma was considered in terms of the helping professions: an ER doc, a hospice nurse, a therapist, a firefighter, a police officer. These were the people on the front lines: they saw things no one else had to, experienced things that not everyone would understand, and it tended to increase as time went on. How many years can a therapist listen to rape victim(s), doctors try to save dying people, nurses put into untenable situations that no one really understands before it’s all too much to handle.
It’s the advent and increasing access to the news as it happens that’s now causing previously unexposed people to feel these traumatic situations as if they were right there.
Caregiver Stress and Burnout:
When we typically discuss vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue, it’s assumed that we’re talking about medical staff, therapists, and first responders. Perhaps, though, the biggest number of people who are experiencing compassion fatigue and vicarious trauma are those who are unpaid, untrained caregivers. Caregivers are unpaid people who care for a number of different kind of people:
And if you’re a full-time caregiver, it’s likely a 24/7 job with no breaks, no reprieve, no time for personal care, no time fo fun, and no time to process anything that is thrown at you every minute of every day. This can lead to major health issues, mental health issues, feelings of being overwhelmed and not appreciated.
Please read Caregiver Resources for more information on caregiver burnout, stress, and ways to help alleviate some of that stress.
Most notably the sandwich generation, which is a descriptor for people who are both caregiving for their older adult parents who are sick AND trying to care for their children – sometimes they try to work as well. This is a major stress and often, with finances being drained quickly, caregiver stress can feel unmanageable.
As people around us age, “learning to parenting your parent” is becoming increasingly common. People in this Sandwich Generation are generally stuck in the middle between caring for aging parents and caring for their own children. The ever-increasing lifespan of people means that more and more of us will be put in this position – many of us having to do this on top of a full-time job. While living longer and longer can be excellent, each year that goes by means that age-related problems are becoming a burden on the members of the sandwich generation. These problems can include chronic illnesses, long hospital stays, multiple medications, dementia, deafness, becoming bedridden, and eventually unable to properly care for themselves. Often, without the funds, these caregivers must care for their aging parent in their own home – often with parents who need round-the-clock care.
This is nearly impossible feat and it can put a strain on everything from finances, to relationship issues, to being unable to properly parent your child.
How Do We Know If The Impact Is Too Much For Us To Handle?
As is the case with any type of traumatic event, some people will be able to handle vicarious trauma and have it not affect their daily lives. Others feel a sense of hopelessness and feel overwhelmed. Don’t expect that your response will be the same as, well, mine. This isn’t a contest and there are no real rules as to how vicarious trauma affects us. If you’re wondering if you’re experiencing vicarious trauma, look below and see if you see yourself in these symptoms:
How’s your daily mood? Is it the same as it usually is? Are you experiencing mood changes?
Are you increasingly worried or irritable?
Do you feel unsafe?
Do you feel hopeless and helpless?
Are you isolating yourself from your loved ones?
Are you engaging in risk-taking behavior by drinking or drugging to escape your daily life?
Has it become hard to concentrate?
Do you find yourself constantly thinking about the traumas?
Has your beliefs about the world changed?
If you see yourself in these statements, you may be dealing with vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue.
Who Is at Risk of Being Affected by Vicarious Trauma?
Really, anyone who has been working with trauma survivors, trauma as a part of their job, or those who experience vicarious trauma from the news can be affected. These factors may increase your vulnerability:
Having lived through other traumatic experiences
Difficulty discussing your feelings
Having traumatic experience happen on the regular at your job
Feeling social isolation, loneliness – both at work or in your personal life
People who withdraw to avoid experiences, feelings, or blame other people in super stressful situations
At work, people who’ve not been properly prepared, oriented, or trained in their job
If you’re newer and less experienced in your job
Unending, constant intense exposure to trauma on the job
Lack of availability of people to support and help you discuss your trauma
What Are Some Of The Warning Signs That You’re Developing Compassion Fatigue?
Physical Warning Signs
Getting sick more often
Sore back and neck
Total exhaustion
Insomnia
Headaches
Irritable bowel, GI distress
Rashes, breakouts
Teeth grinding during the night
Heart palpitations
Hypochondria
Behavioral Signs
Not returning phone calls at work and/or at home
Anger and Irritability at home and/or at work
Avoiding social events
Using drugs and/or alcohol
Bingeing a ton of Netflix/Hulu/TV at night
Watching high trauma shows and news as entertainment
Decreased decision-making abilities
Increasing issues in personal relationships
Challenges with intimacy and/or sex due to trauma
Frequently negatively gossiping
Changing in eating – restrictive eating or overeating
Inability to stop thinking about the trauma
Emotional/Psychological Signs
Emotional exhaustion
Negative self-image
Depression
Increased anxiety
Feelings of hopelessness
Guilt
Reduced ability to feel sympathy and empathy towards clients or family/friends
Cynicism
Anger
Resentment of demands asked of you at work and/or at home
Diminished sense of enjoyment/career(i.e., low compassion satisfaction)
Depersonalization – spacing out during work or the drive home
Disruption of world view/heightened anxiety or irrational fears
Intrusive imagery
Hypersensitivity to emotionally charged stimuli
Insensitivity to emotional material/numbing
Suicidal thoughts
What Are Some Other Symptoms That May Indicate Vicarious Trauma/Compassion Fatigue?
While many of the below symptoms can be described as symptoms of depression, there’s much more to symptoms of vicarious trauma; these symptoms are a bit more like PTSD because they are in relation to a number of involuntarily traumatic situations. It’s the culmination of a large number of problems and trauma all rolled into one.
Avoiding talking about the trauma
Beginning to feel numb to what they are experiencing
In a constant state of fight or flight or flee or free
Survivor’s guilt
Sleep issues (sleeping too much or insomnia)
A free-floating anger or irritation at others
Losing sleep
Fear that they’re not doing enough to help others
Dreams being overtaken by trauma
Feeling less and less joy for things they once loved
Feeling trapped and helpless; unable to get out
Intrusive thoughts about the trauma(s)
Less feelings of satisfaction and feeling like they’re not making a difference
Absenteeism and tardiness to work
Rejecting interpersonal and physical closeness to other people
Dropping out of activities once enjoyed
Dissatisfaction with like and other people
Blaming other people for the trauma
Low-self image
Hopelessness and/or apathy
Problems with interpersonal relationships
Changing their world view
Coping With Compassion Fatigue And Vicarious Trauma:
With the news constantly spitting out horrible images of people dying, planes crashing, and catastrophic events, so naturally, we have to find ways to manage and overcome vicarious traumatizations. Let’s go over some good ways to cope:
First, you need to recognize that you’re experiencing this and start to make your very own self-care plan. This may look different for everyone, but the following ideas are the basic tenant of your recovery.
Second, make sure you’re spending quiet time alone. If you can practice meditation, you may like to try it. If you don’t, make sure that you spend some time coming back to the core of who you are. Returning and reminding you of your former self can be very centering and help you achieve some inner balance.
Third, you also need to connect and have meaningful conversations at least once a day. Talking to someone about something other than just pleasantries can do your soul a whole lot of good; especially if you’ve managed to isolate yourself.
Fourth, do something you love every day that’s good for you. Vow to learn to cook, take up a hobby you have time for, and do it every single day.
Fifth, self-care is a total must. Most of us, when we develop compassion fatigue through vicarious traumas have a tendency to avoid taking care of yourself. This isn’t an option when you’re struggling with compassion fatigue.
This is gonna make a lot of people mad, but this is important, create your own principles about dealing with vicarious trauma and your exposure to it – turn off the TV, get off Facebook, and turn your phone totally off when you’re not feeling as though you’re able to handle it. You’re not going to die if you don’t constantly read status updates or see what your BFF is making for dinner.
If your in the medical field, a therapist, or a first responder, making a plan isn’t as easy as clicking a button. This requires some serious soul searching: what makes you happy? What (pardon the phrase) sparks joy in you? These questions should help you understand some principles of care to use in traumatic situations. For example, if you’re emotionally exhausted while thinking about your job, maybe it isn’t the gig you wanted it to be. There are always a zillion different jobs for medical professionals, therapists, and first responders.
No news is good news. It’s a familiar enough phrase, between accounts of natural disasters, sexual assault, child abuse, and maltreatment in detention centers and violence against racial, ethnic, and sexual orientation, and gender minorities, there is more than enough going on in the world to lead one to feel anxious and sad.
The emotions and reactions, along with a number of other thoughts and feelings, are challenging enough to cope with. For people who have survived a trauma, this barrage of information can be particularly overwhelming and can result in feelings of hopelessness, despair, paralyzing fear, and rage at the people and systems who commit or condone violence.
The Don’ts of Managing Compassion Fatigue and Vicarious Trauma:
Unfortunately, as much as we don’t like hearing about the don’ts in life, it is necessary when it comes to healing yourself from vicarious trauma.
Don’t blame other people for your issues. They are your own and you must deal with them; even though developing compassion fatigue isn’t your fault. Wait until you’ve healed so that you can properly see what needs to change in your life.
Do not make big decisions: now is NOT the time to buy a new house, divorce your spouse, buy a fancy car. When you’ve recovered emotionally and physically from compassion fatigue, you can better assess what you really need. Even though you get an endorphin rush from a big purchase, it won’t last. And when it stops, the guilt creeps in. Always, always, always, always remember that old AA saying “wherever you go, there you are.”
Don’t bother trying a quick fix – drinking and/or engaging in risky behaviors only cover up your feelings only delays them. They’ll be right there with you when you wake up. Addiction and addictive behaviors can only escalate your continued downward spiral.
This is a toughie for most of us, because complaining can feel sooooo good, especially with people who share your views, but don’t make complaining a habit – it’ll only serve to make you feel worse. If you want to share your feelings, talk to a close friend, loved one, or even a therapist. That way, you’re dealing with your emotions and feelings in a safer, more constructive environment.
Help! My Loved One Has Compassion Fatigue and Vicarious Traumatization!
One of the best things you can possibly do to help someone struggling with compassion fatigue and vicarious trauma is to be kind and supportive. In fact, be kind and supportive to everyone you meet!
If your loved one is disclosing their compassion fatigue for the first time, it can be extremely hard to hear that what they’ve thought they’d been hiding is being noticed.
With the main focus on treatment of compassion fatigue and vicarious trauma is to do more self-care and find better work/life balances, some people feel blamed – as though they’ve caused this issue themselves and not as a result of their work – “if you feel compassion fatigue, YOU are not doing enough to care for yourself.”
See, the biggest contributions fo developing compassion fatigue is your work location, your workload, the amount of support staff available, working conditions, and whether or not you’ve gotten training in dealing with trauma-related stress.
Self-care, a wonderful ideal, doesn’t look the same for everyone, it must be figured out based upon how we’ve dealt with other types of stresses in our lives. For some, it can involve leisure activities, doing fun things, developing a satisfying physical activity regime, or getting yourself on a consistent eat and sleep cycle. The balance between self-care and vicarious traumatization is incredibly important to give yourself and your body time to process the event.
When you’re feeling overwhelmed, being social and finding good social groups to join is one of the very best things you can do for yourself.
When you can’t avoid exposure to traumas and retraumatization, you may feel helpless and hopeless. This is where getting a sense of control in other parts of your life comes in. Helping others, attend local counsel meetings, do something good for others can honestly help to counteract the feelings of helplessness or hopelessness.
Limiting your exposure to traumatic situations is important when you’re trying to reduce vicarious trauma and managing symptoms as they happen can do a lot toward making you feel better about yourself and your life. If you’re in a helping field, reducing your hours, or changing your job to a less-traumatic one can really help reduce vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue.
Additional Resources for Compassion Fatigue and Vicarious Traumatization:
The Offices For Victims of Crimes offers strategies and a toolkit for professionals and lay-people alike to help to learn to understand traumas and begin to heal
American Nurses Association did a study on compassion fatigue, PTSD, and vicarious trauma. These are the results – they’re dense but can be applied to any helping professions.
Happily-ever-after dies when his suffering takes center stage. There is no room in my home for me. I am not enough or I am too much. HE TAKES EVERYTHING OVER. There is no room for my anguish and sadness. There is no place to hide my face. There is no safe place. He has taken them all.
Blast.
Gave up a dear friend, she was toxic to our relationship, but I loved her like WHOA. When my mother passed away in 2007…Michele would have known how to be present. She would have known what to say and when to be silent. She would have reminded me of things I had said. She would be encouraging. But I couldn’t reach out to her. When all doors where closed and all paths were blocked… I turned to Jesus… the first place I should have gone.
Thwack.
Work becomes more important. I am valued here. I am celebrated for my vision, my word, my inappropriate humor. I am secretly trying to think of ways to work overtime and contribute more to after hours events.
Zap.
I explain my desires, my needs. I dive deep, despite the risk, and ask for him to play the role of Daddy and let me be the little girl who needs to be safe and protected. He shames me. He has starved me out. I fall deep into self loathing and hatred. Trust has been severed. Heart has turned stone. I have shut down any trust I ever had. I never speak of my sorrows or pain to him anymore. Initially he’ll try to help…. But then…. In the next couple weeks, when we’re arguing, he uses it against me — ultimate betrayal.
He is constantly nudging me and giving me looks to act appropriately.
I can’t be me…when he’s around. I celebrate with joy when he leaves the house.
I run around foolishly and make a huge mess.
BANG.
I confront him. Air out my grievances. He doesn’t remember any of it. I am in a puddle of hormonal rage and anxiety. I AM NOT CRAZY! God speaks to me clearly and tells me to commit to doing a 40 day fast. During the fast, he shows me his favor. He shows me my strength. I emerge as a warrior. If I can fast for 40 days, I can fucking do anything. My faith is stronger than ever. Jesus will never fail me. I need to commit to only relying on him for all my needs. Mortal men are the most pitiful of creatures. Why was I so blind?
Zip.
He leaves me a note by my nightstand. It’s this long paragraph of lovely words I’ve heard before; Something about him recommitting to us, to me, and becoming the man he needs to be for me.
((( Pause for rolling of the eyes )))
The time and energy for him to write that letter, he could have just taken action. He is all talk. TALK TALK TALK TALK!
If he wants to be the man for me… then bring me coffee in bed, don’t let me worry about putting gas in my car or its maintenance needs. Remove money as a concern for me. Obtain employment that can carry the family and cover us with health insurance so I don’t have to … be the man of the house. Be the spiritual leader that we need. Be the captain of the ship. Be honest about who you are what you need. Don’t suffer in silence. Don’t be so chicken shit. Run interference for me so I can be the wife, mom, and Christian that our family and community craves.
((It’s not too much to ask.))
Smack.
Emergency room visits, doctors that are worthless, procedures and surgeries that do more harm for his crippling debilitating disease. Come to terms with the fact that I will his caretaker. Make plans for WHAT IFs. Keep accurate medical records. Organize it all. Learning to be knowledgeable about his health conditions. Understand his lack of memory is not his fault. Pain is all consuming. Find a support group. Learn to ask for help. Cry more. Learn to be ok with anger but try not to let it consume your soul. Ask Steve the hard questions. Write down his eulogy. Face the facts. Time is not on our side.
Whack.
He comes in this morning and interrupts my workout. I take my headphones off and he informs me that he can hear me laughing all the way on the other side of the house… it’s a 2800 sqft house. So what? I can’t listen to my podcast and laugh in my house now? HE FUCKING TAKES EVERYTHING FROM ME!!!!!!!!
I asked him about having another baby. Nope. He took that away from me too.
I mentioned Viagra and invoked world war three!
Slam.
His only autonomy in our relationship is the ability to say no. No to my advances. No to all my solutions.
It’s the only real strength and control he has. He builds constant brick walls in conversation.
When he looks down on me and berates my music choices because there is swearing… that does not make me want to be better or do better. It just makes me feel as if I’m in a play and I have no idea what my lines are, what role I’m supposed to be play.. He just makes me feel like a total fuck up.
Wham.
A rift, a fault line separates us. We are on divergent paths. I don’t know where to go from here. I have read all the books, signed all the contracts, invoked all the spells, prayed and fasted, repented for my wicked ways only to cover my face and cry, “ABSALOM, ABSALOM!”
This fight with addiction, the stigma of addiction... it’s a THING – with a capital T H I N G – and it can be beyond exhausting some times. I’m reminded on a daily basis (second by second?) that I don’t have the luxury of “just one sip” to ease my anxiety, celebrate an accomplishments, or escape the day’s troubles.
This is a forever journey. I’ve fought for every single sober second I’ve experienced. I’ll continue to claw and scrape forward to battle the sirens call to take a wee sip of that burning rum again and I will be victorious.
I’ll come out on top because I’m learning how to love myself again. I’m worth it. I’ll win because there’s nothing more important to me than my children and family. Their love and support humbles and grounds me. I’ll be victorious because of the hard work I do EVERY! SINGLE! DAY! to make myself a better person as I try to ensure those around me feel loved, heard, and respected.
I may not feel presentable to the outside world, but I promise you this: I will never stop pushing myself to be more grateful, more loving, and more empathetic towards myself and others in my *most imperfect, messy, unique, authentic way*.
Honestly, I’ve already tried living the lie of perfectionism and look how that turned out for me? Instead I actively chose to see how embracing my truthfully messy life goes.
Cheers to another 7 years of sobriety, fought for one moment at a time.
If you or someone you know needs help with alcohol dependency or addiction, please contact the National Drug & Alcohol Treatment hotline 24/7 at: 800.662.HELP (4357).
I wrote you a letter in purple pen. I was high again. Relapsed the day before after having 6 months clean, and I knew that you knew I was high the last time I saw you at the Care Center. I felt so guilty because I felt like I was crawling out of my skin to get out of that room.
Not because I didn’t want to see you, but there was nothing to do in there with your hospital bed; you could barely get out of and the TV was constantly running. We talked about how you needed to find a new place to live and how I could live with you again and help you out, writing all these ideas and plans.
A few days later, I helped pack up your apartment, trying to save everything because I knew how much you loved all your knick-knacks and junk. You and I were always the sentimental ones. After going through and packing it all up, putting it into storage, just until you were out of the Care Center.
I should have come to see you. I was literally just down the street. Wouldn’t have taken more than 10 minutes to see you. But I was coming down.
All I could think was lets’s get this done so I can go pick up. I didn’t even stop by or call you that day.
I went to the park after getting my fix and started writing you a letter. Telling you how sorry I was that I wasn’t the best kid, and didn’t always appreciate you, and that I know you did your best with what you could; that I loved you.
The next day I was at work and get a call from grandma.
She tells me that you had a heart attack, and you were gone.
