Entry One

I'm alone in this room having an inner battle within myself. I know what I should do. I should get up and keep my mind busy, but I won't.

I'm seeing a therapist and it helps. But honestly, it feels like I'm just patching up an empty hole. An emptiness that could easily be unsealed.

Easily unsealed.

It makes me think of rain and potholes on the road. It doesn't matter how much we can fill that emptiness with rocks or dirt, a simple rain could easily wash it away. Unless we restructure the roads of course.

What I feel is tiredness, sad, angry, and scared. I learned from therapy, I had an early traumatic event. I lost my father at age 15. I'm sure thousands of people would kick me upside the head, figuratively speaking of course, and say "Duh dummy, you've had an early traumatic experience. You lost your dad! Your best friend! The first man you ever looked up to!"

Well what I would say to that…

At that moment, somehow, I learned to shut down. I can't remember the exact moment, but I let a numbness take over me, a numbness to care for me. I didn't cry at his funeral. I just moved on to the next day, and the next day.

Now looking back, I see how easily I shutdown, my childhood was not rainbows and butterflies. My parents were toxic towards each other. Individually they were amazing parents. He was an amazing father, and she was an amazing mother. But put those two together, and hell broke.

I grew up with dad wanting to party, and hangout. A mother fighting to have a companion. My dad was a complete narcissist towards my mother. He could never accept his wife beside him at the club or hangouts. Her duty was house and children.

I don't remember my parents ever being affectionate towards each other. A father telling his wife, "I love you."

Nope, not in my house.

What I do remember is a father falling asleep on the couch or in his metal lawn chair out in the back. A mother who slept alone and made an excuse, "He watches tv late at night," or "I can't stand his snores."

Now that I'm older, I don't want to imagine what it was like, but history has a way of repeating.

Looking back I now realize, every decision I made was probably not the healthiest, mentally. From school, friendships, and relationships. I notice through my adolescence, I was just getting by.

I didn't get an "F" on my grades, "hey! That's a win!"

I was looking for acceptance in my social circle, "yes! They wanna hangout!"

or, "What can I do new, to keep him wanting me?"

My whole life I was looking for acceptance. I wanted to be a people pleasure. I always lied to myself, "Im a strong independent women, who doesn't need blah! Blah! Blah!"

But was I really? I've always been dependent on someone. Of course my parents, but then my husband came in the picture.

I met him my freshman year in high school. Honestly, our relationship has been rocky, toxic. The first year was nice, but going into our second year together was a slap in the face. I was young and naive to know if a person chose to hide your relationship from the world, it's a bad start. But I stuck around.

Hell, right when I turned 18 I was already talking about being his wife and starting a life. But something clicked. For a short period, I was done being with him. I had a short lived single life.

I enrolled myself in a community college, held down a part-time job and took over one of my mothers car. I had a sense of independency and self confidence. I was learning to love me at the time.

But luck was never on my side. Now I had my mother pestering me for money and an ex boyfriend who couldn't let go. Til this day, I'm dumbfounded that my own mother would hustle me for money. She had her own, and still have plenty of it.

Ha! At one point I had my mother put her two cents in my relationship that I shouldn't let him go. She just kept to the same tune, "I shouldn't let a good man who can take care of me go."

Eventually, I do what I always do, I caved in. I took him back. Then one thing led to another and I'm now taking the next step in moving in with him.

By 19, we were already living together. In the beginning it was nice, we learned a lot together. Had dinner every evening, did laundry together, and cleaned together.

While I was playing housewife, and him having his role as head of household, our friends were out enjoying their lives. Taking off when they pleased. We eventually wanted a taste of youth.

I remember every weekend I'd be out with the girls, flirting with society. Coming home four in the morning, until I needed a wake up call. One specific event that comes to mind, promising him we'll have lunch together and showing up hungover. I can see the disappointment. "Go home, in the future don't ever bring up lunch." Is what he told me.

Since then, I stopped going out with the girls and stayed home. Cooking, cleaning and tv shows, that was our life.

I lost myself.