There is so much going on in my life right now, and it can all be summed up by 1 word – complicated. Every single aspect of my life has been defined by me and everyone else as “complicated”.
My kids health? COMPLICATED. My past and trying to come to grips with that all while dealing with my present? Complicated.
Getting (more or less) repeatedly sexually assaulted by someone in my life who I can’t avoid, like…literally can’t avoid him at all? Wanting so badly to hate him…but feeling so many things that just make me feel too guilty to hate him. Not even understanding my own emotions about it… So complicated.
Then there’s the other kid. The birth son. Ohhh boy, now that’s complicated. How can something, someone, I love so much cause a gut wrenching amount of pain with every thought? Wanting him, but seeing him – even a picture, opens up a thousand wounds that I don’t think will ever heal…
So my therapist is like, dead set on this whole “writing book” idea. So I guess that’s just a thing that’s going to happen now. Last night she said that by the next time I go (Friday) I need to start writing about a chunk of it..but like…with emotion. Ugh.
See, but that’s the thing. With so many of the “complicated” things about my life…my emotions attached to them are also complicated. Which I think distracts me from being able to actually identify them. Writing about my birth son and my experience with that is probably the only thing I actually can write about with accurate emotion. It sucks, and I don’t want to…but I can. That is a story that (although shitty and horribly uncomfortable), I can tell. I just don’t want to.
But this other situation…the other story that I need to be able to tell. The one with the shitty family member that is essentially the current cause for my likely demise…I can’t talk about it, I don’t know how to. I literally just can not find the words or the emotions, or even state the facts. Nothing about what happened over the weekend (when I’m mostly certain I was drugged) even came up in therapy last night. And that’s fine, I guess.
We still talked about important things, so it’s not like we talked about nothing. But this stupid thing is so big in my life right now. Among all of the other complications and the chaos…I’m consumed with fear and thoughts of him.
Hey, guys. You know what’s super fun? Trying to maintain a healthy life (and marriage) when you’re massively fucked up. When someone (ya know, like my husband) touches me and I just immediately freak out and all I can see and feel is someone else. But he has no idea I’m feeling that way. So, yeah. It’s all just…
IT IS ALL SO COMPLICATED. And I don’t know how to deal with it or talk about it or just like…ever be okay again.
So, again. My Question.
How the fuck am I supposed to tell a story when I have no idea how tell it? When I have no idea how to talk about it, or how to identify how I feel, or even how I’m supposed to feel? That’s the other thing…I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. I don’t know what’s okay and what’s not okay.
But I just feel so lost right now. I’m feeling so incredibly broken and beaten down and I just need this to stop. I can’t control any aspect of my life. I can’t fix my kids, I can’t un-place my son for adoption… There is no part of the massive hurt that my life is that I can do anything about. This feels like another thing that just…is.
I can’t have this be a thing that just *is*. It’s too much, and honestly, I don’t understand it.
I’m writing this post completely sober (a rarity whenever I write at night), which means I’m unintentionally filtering myself quite a bit. And if I started this post an hour from now, I’m sure it would sounds much different, much more blunt. But really, this shit hurts. And I’m struggling. It’s affecting me in a huge way. And I feel stuck. I don’t know what to do.
Oh wait…I do. I guess I’ll just drink the pain away. Ugh. Sorry. I’m just…
How can I be okay with being repeatedly assaulted by a (non biological) family member who lives …rather close by… and just like…be expected to function? I’m running out of ideas here.
I just wish I could fucking talk about it.