Addictions and Abuse

This is going to be a very serious post for those that can't handle it, just stop right here. A lot of you don't really know me as well as you might think you do. I have a very addictive personality. I'm also very ADD, so I haven't stuck with an addiction long enough to get physically addicted to anything. There are advantages to that and disadvantages. I've never had to go through the intense withdrawals that I've heard other people have had to go through. (Thank God I've never had to watch anyone go through it! Plenty of my friends have gone through it though!) But I also find it dificult to define what it is I'm recovering from! I HATE that question!!!! When people hear that I'm involved in a recovery program they ask me what I'm recovering from and I don't know what to tell them. I'm not really an alcoholic, cause I can choose to drink in moderation. I've done it many times. I have friends who would probably disagree with that, because they have seen me drunk a few too many times. Not recently but definitely too many times! I was only in high school when I had a very brave and concerned teenage friend (yes, another teenager and I don't even remember which friend it was) come up to me and tell me, 'Shellie, I'm really worried about you. I think you have a serious drinking problem." That's when I switched to something else I think, probably. I tried to avoid anyone noticing that I was doing anything excessively. I smoked Marijuana, I drank, I smoked cigarettes, I even starved myself for a while. The really sickening part of all of this was my parents complete ignorance. I mean, I'm sorry, but if my daughter lost 15 pounds in two weeks, I wouldn't only notice, I'd also say something. Especially when she never showed up at the dinner table, so as far as you can tell she doesn't eat. I most definitely hardly ever at for an entire summer and during one two week period I did lose 15 pounds. I was having black-out for crying out loud. Some friends noticed and practically force fed me. A counselor even once talked to my parents (with my permission of course) about the possibility of me going to a drug and alcoholic treatment place for teenagers. My mother refused. She gave many reasons for me not being able to go, but it boiled down to she didn't want anybody to find out about me. She didn't want anybody to think there was anything wrong. (Like they didn't already know, right?!) This was after I was caught trying to kill myself. She told the counselors I didn't need help. That I was just trying to get attention. (Excuse me, but maybe I needed some.) I am begging you, if you are a mother or a father who has a child with these sorts of struggles and they come to you or send someone to you to ask for help, give it to them! I couldn't have begged harder if I'd wanted to. My own mother did not believe me when I told her I'd been sexually assaulted. She really thinks the statistics on that are blown way out of proportion and that many women have not been sexually abused. I really don't know why anybody would lie about something like that, but I do believe there are a few, but I don't think most people do and if my daughter who was obviously in pain told me something like that, I'd get her help. I wouldn't call her a liar. In my home I was not allowed to feel anything. If I cried I was either smothered to death or I was told to knock it off. If I got excited, people thought I was crazy. To be honest with you it's the same way where I'm living now. Plus I'm just afraid of what would happen if I really started feeling what has happened to me or anything that might happen to me. I don't drink anymore, but, Oh, man, would I like to. I have Jesus in my heart, but I still don't know how to feel and I'm afraid of what my husband would do if I did. I've never really grieved any loss in my life. Not all the way through. Whenever I start thinking about things in my life and it's obvious my mind is wanting to process some of it, I immediately find something else to do before my husband or children see me in tears. If I cry my children want to know what's wrong and I can't tell them, because it's stuff they don't need to hear, so I don't know how to respond to them. I've even tried to just tell them that mommies and daddies get sad sometimes to and it's okay, but it's still not a good enough explanation for them to just leave me alone. So it's not like I'm ever going to get anything processed through anyway. I live in a 900 square foot trailer house. Everybody can hear everything! So even at night when everyone's asleep I can't process. I wish people would just learn that feelings are not our enemies, so they'd just let people process things. As it is I'm not sure I've processed anything in my life and on this blog I've only told you about a fraction of what I've been through. Granted, there are many others who've had it worse. I've had friends tell me that the way my parents treated me was not that bad. I'm sorry, but that really doesn't help. They say my mother really does love me. I will never believe that. I forgive her, because I don't think she really knows how to love. But she most certainly didn't love me. Someone who loves someone is willing to put their reputation on the line for that person. I know some people are going to read this and not believe a word of it, but I don't care. If it opens up one person's eyes to the pain and struggles that some of this world have been through and going through, then it's worth it. I hope someday I will be healed and whole, but it's going to be a while.