I'm Addicted to This Site
ForeverFighting
Registrant
Why are we drawn to tell our histories? Why can't I leave well enough alone?
I try to break my cycles of acting out so I can live another life, but the alternative is doing this work. I can live with that, but I've been doing this work a long time (I fell apart in 1993), and sometimes it's like the pressure to feel never ends no matter what I do. I started coming here to MS, and to hear the stories of people dealing with the same things makes such a difference. It's about not being alone, being acceptable for who I am even if I do have these horrible scars that little old grandmas would like to think doesn't happen to anyone anywhere. Now it's like I'm addicted to being here. I must tell my story, tell how awful my dad was, how cold and heartless my family was/is, I must break free, and this place is the closest thing I've ever felt to that. There's no MS group out here in the sticks. I've never been anywhere where men have spoken so honestly and openly about the traumas they've faced. Where my history felt real, my pain acknowledged.
This isn't a normal life. I know it will get better. It always does. It's just that I restarted this work to feel better, to overcome the cycles of acting out, but I don't feel better, and the old brain still throws the acting out thoughts at me. (I almost fell off today.) A couple of weeks ago I said something like, 'and if I have to go to therapy until I'm 112 and log on here every day in order to make that happen, then that's what I'm going to do.' Today I'm, "Um, well, I can probably keep doing this for another 4 days or so..."
My parents from hell, my goals that are always just out there because of my emotional limitaions, the perps that got away and live like nothing happened, the intrusive thoughts that disgust me, the secrets that I still have to keep.... I'm just not sure anything in this system can fix that. Maybe I'm losing a little hope. I was willing to go back to therapy and face my closets full of bones, but I didn't want to feel like this again. I came in for an old hiking injury and now I'm looking up at bright lights in the operating room, my therapist holding my guts in his hand. My wife says she can't go through this again. She should stand here.
I must feel every day. If I don't, the ghosts come back.
So I have to keep coming back to this place. You guys are incredible. It's such a good site. I really believe a place like this must exist so we can heal and see ourselves more like others see us. I guess the question is, Can I live a normal life without looking inside? And am I satisfied to not reach some of the goals I'm striving for because I can't stand this pain? Can I live a life outside here while I heal? The answers are, No, No, and I don't have a choice. And that makes me angry.
I try to break my cycles of acting out so I can live another life, but the alternative is doing this work. I can live with that, but I've been doing this work a long time (I fell apart in 1993), and sometimes it's like the pressure to feel never ends no matter what I do. I started coming here to MS, and to hear the stories of people dealing with the same things makes such a difference. It's about not being alone, being acceptable for who I am even if I do have these horrible scars that little old grandmas would like to think doesn't happen to anyone anywhere. Now it's like I'm addicted to being here. I must tell my story, tell how awful my dad was, how cold and heartless my family was/is, I must break free, and this place is the closest thing I've ever felt to that. There's no MS group out here in the sticks. I've never been anywhere where men have spoken so honestly and openly about the traumas they've faced. Where my history felt real, my pain acknowledged.
This isn't a normal life. I know it will get better. It always does. It's just that I restarted this work to feel better, to overcome the cycles of acting out, but I don't feel better, and the old brain still throws the acting out thoughts at me. (I almost fell off today.) A couple of weeks ago I said something like, 'and if I have to go to therapy until I'm 112 and log on here every day in order to make that happen, then that's what I'm going to do.' Today I'm, "Um, well, I can probably keep doing this for another 4 days or so..."
My parents from hell, my goals that are always just out there because of my emotional limitaions, the perps that got away and live like nothing happened, the intrusive thoughts that disgust me, the secrets that I still have to keep.... I'm just not sure anything in this system can fix that. Maybe I'm losing a little hope. I was willing to go back to therapy and face my closets full of bones, but I didn't want to feel like this again. I came in for an old hiking injury and now I'm looking up at bright lights in the operating room, my therapist holding my guts in his hand. My wife says she can't go through this again. She should stand here.
I must feel every day. If I don't, the ghosts come back.
So I have to keep coming back to this place. You guys are incredible. It's such a good site. I really believe a place like this must exist so we can heal and see ourselves more like others see us. I guess the question is, Can I live a normal life without looking inside? And am I satisfied to not reach some of the goals I'm striving for because I can't stand this pain? Can I live a life outside here while I heal? The answers are, No, No, and I don't have a choice. And that makes me angry.
