Thoughts from the Battlefield

Another step

What would you do if you could tell the world one thing about yourself?  What would that one thing be?  Would it be something profound or would it be something simple?  Would it be a deep, dark secret or would it be something that is common knowledge among your circle of friends?

I hurt inside.  I feel hurt...inside.  Maybe if I finally admit it then I can start healing whatever it is. 

I know that the hurt has been there since I was in my early teens and I have no idea why.  It was like a light switch was turned on one day and hurt has been my constant companion from that time forward.  I've been in therapy for years over the hurt and still have yet to get to the root of whatever it is.    For as many different therapists I've had and for as many ways as I've tried to approach it, I can't seem to make headway into the hurt. 

With my marriage in limbo and my life in pieces, I hurt now more than ever. 

I wonder, though, if admitting that I'm hurting over all of this will somehow help me face my hurt.  I wonder if giving voice to my fear, pain and anger will finally allow me to address them head-on.   I wonder if I'll be able to summon the courage to face my demons when the time comes.  I wonder if I'll have the strength to conquer those very demons once and for all and begin to get on with the rest of my life.  I wonder if it's too late to salvage my life in all this chaos.  Mostly, I wonder if I'll be the same person on the other side or if I'll be someone I hardly recognize. 

Again, the fear rears its ugly head. 

I hate living like this.  I hate hurting every day.  I hate waking up to face another day of fear, pain and anger.  I want to break free from these chains that have bound me for so long even if it means that I no longer know who or what I am anymore.  I don't want to live like this another moment. 

Maybe admitting these truths is how I begin my journey...

My name is John, ...and I'm an addict.

Now what?

Recovery is a bitch.  Just let me put that out there now. 

I fully expect this to be a long and painful process.  To make matters worse, I also expect this to be an ongoing process for the rest of my life.  I'm told that you can never fully recover from co-dependency but that you merely become aware of its existence.  Great.  Lucky me.  I can't begin to describe the feeling you get when you get news like this.  It's got a way of ruining your weekend....for the rest of your life.

Recovery is going to force me to turn my insides out in order for me to try to understand why I am the way I am.  It's going to make me dissect each part of my life to determine where my problems areas are and shine a big friggin' spotlight on them.  In short, it's going to make me feel like I've been rubbed raw with acid and then rinsed with salt. 

I realize this will be a good thing in the long run.  However, I now have to face myself, alone, and deal with the results.  I'm not sure I'm going to like what I find.  Maybe that's the fear talking.  Maybe it's the dread of not knowing what's down there waiting to make an appearance.  Who am I kidding...it's fear. 

Facing myself is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done.  I'm quite sure of it.  For many years, I thought marriage was the toughest challenge. I've got a feeling I'm going to be proven wrong in spades on this one.

My name is John, ...and I'm an addict.

Time to get real

For too long, practically all my life, I've denied a simple truth.  I figure that with my life in pieces (a marital separation, a job that leaves me woefully under-employed and financial ruin) there is no better time to start getting real with myself.  After all, I've got nothing left to lose.

My drugs of choice over the years have been fear and control.  Co-dependency and nearly 25 years of a deep depression are the results of my indulgences. 

Step One of my recovery tells me that I have to admit that I am powerless over my addiction and others and that my life has become unmanageable.  I am now admitting the nature of my addiction in the hopes that I can begin the healing.  No more lies.  No more excuses. 

My name is John ...and I'm an addict.