WHY??

I now know why I had trouble writing the last few days. Every time I tried to type words my fingers refused to cooperate. I would look at the screen and the only word staring back at me was a big WHY with a BOLD question mark.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? 

Why have I slipped again? Why has this addiction become a center of my life again? Why have things changed since last week when I was strong? Why a few days ago was I able to resist? Why am I so drawn to this? Why won't it go away and leave me alone?

So many questions and no answers.

I am slipping tumbling down a slide, to fast, to hard. I try grab onto the edge to gain stability. I want to slow down. All I receive is a painful friction burn.

I'm scared actually I'm terrified. Fear has a grip so tight it has paralyzed my heart. I can't do this again. I don't know if I have any fighting power left in me. 

On the outside I appear to be the typical young married kollel wife with a 4 month old infant. Inside I am a war-zone full of darts and swords. These two sides of me are constantly wrestling with one another fighting to win. How much longer can I continue living a double life?

How much longer can I continue hiding this from my husband, my family, my friends. I don't know how much longer I can survive the blade of the giant chainsaw that is splitting my body into two.

I want my life back the one I've had the last few months the peace, the tranquility, the happiness, the laughter, the joy. I don't want to return to a life of struggles, of wars, of screams, and pain.

I knew if I didn't deal with this addiction it would return. I thought if I could ignore all the warning signs I could pretend it wasn't there.

I was wrong it lay simmering underground like a bubbling volcano. Lying in wait for the perfect moment to erupt. And now it has exploded hard and fast with no intention of calming down.

What do u do when a volcano erupts? Is there any way to stop the deadly lava? Any way to outrun the blast?

What do I do now? Where do I go from here??? 

More questions I don't have answers for. Some days I just wish I could disappear.

Moments

We all experience moments on our lives we would rather not be in. Times in our lives that are embarrassing, boring, traumatic. Times that cause us mental discomfort.


We day dream when bored, wish the ground would open up and swallow us when embarrassed, disassociate when traumatized. Our bodies may be physically there but our heads are somewhere else. Our minds have found us an interesting place, a familiar place, a safer place.


The years of my childhood were filled with many traumatic moments. I learnt at a very young age the safest way to ensure the least pain was to disassociate. It wasn't a consciouses decision it happened naturally and became an important part of my survival. 


As I got older I found I could turn it on at ease. Moments when my mother was giving one of her never ending lectures on how terrible we were. Moments when she would tell our friends that we were worthless and forbid us to talk to them. Moments when her rage controlled her and she slapped, kicked, and beat us until she tired out. Getting in touch with the anger, the shame, the guilt only created more pain.


But it's the moments filled with emotions that I vividly remember. The first teacher who took me aside and told me she believed in me. The first time I stayed at a friends house and saw the meaning of a loving family. The first time someone did something for me just because they cared. It is these moments that stand out the most.


While turning off my emotions has always been easy turning them on is so much harder. There were days that I would walk around completely numb an empty hole in my heart where my feelings should reside. It was like my heart has been encased in an impenetrable glass box. The self harm started because I needed something intense to break though those walls of glass imprisoning me. I wanted to feel and pain seemed a better option then numbness.


When the glass box would shatter my emotions would break free and overwhelm me. They seemed to be magnified and to much to bear. So again I would turn to the self harm to help me reign in my feelings and make them more manageable. It was a never ending cycle.

Now I am a mother I need to be able to carefully open the glass box of my emotions. I want to feel the unlimited love for my baby, the pain when she is hurt, the pride in her progress.

Day by day my daughter is slowly teaching me to get in touch with my feelings without letting them destroy me.

On addiction

There is a lot I can say about addiction. What ever the addiction is it can get to a point where it literally can take over your mind, your body, your life. All you are able to think about is how soon are you able to next engage in the destructive behaviour.

It is a scary place to be in the cravings, the urges the need to fulfill  the intense desire.

Although I am not battling with my addiction at the moment there are constant triggers that remind me of the cravings and each time it is a struggle to resist. Every time I am tempted to lose the battle and surrender I read this poem I wrote a while back.  I look at my daughter and know I need to win.

The trigger is pulled

the weights lowered

crushing

full

of my mistakes

parts of me I know exist

memories

I cannot forget

immense pressure

forced

to cower in fear

frightened

the addiction

overwhelms me

takes over my senses

I try to search

to reach

looking for strength

to hold

I lose control

give in

addicted

I have failed

The trigger is been pulled again

the weights lowered

heavy

full

of past mistakes

parts of me

I wish did not exist

memories

I struggle to forget

irresistible pull

forced

to bend in fear

afraid

it will overwhelm me

take over my senses

I search deep

for love

grab onto it

hold it

light as a feather

it gives me strength

to stand again

gain control

I have succeeded

Postpartum Depression

I recognise the signs. I have been down this road in the past. The footsteps lead into a wild overgrown jungle. I know I need to follow the path carefully to emerge safely on the the other side.

My thoughts are racing. My mind in chaos. My heart a mess.

I am slipping. Falling into a big black hole. The hole is filled with quicksand. The more I struggle the more I sink. I need to calm down.

I block my ears, close my eyes. Breathe in, Breathe out. I try and put a name to my emotions, identify my feelings. They are buried to deep. I can not reach them. 

I wake up in the morning tired, frightened of the nightmares that have terrorised my sleep.
I hear my husband talking my mind drifts I can not concentrate. Focus I tell myself. It is to hard. I give up.
I look at the food in front of me. I have no appetite. I have lost the desire to eat.

I want to flee. Distract myself. Lose myself in old addictions. They beckon me to take comfort in their familiarity. My mind rebels it knows the pleasure is short lived, temporary. Self hate and guilt follow. It will only make me feel worse. 

I look at the old scars. They are faint now but they force me to stay grounded. I allow myself to cry release some of the pent up emotions.

Sometimes I wish I could run away and leave myself behind. Step out of my body. Escape the fogginess of my mind.

I wish that just for one day I could be someone else.

Just one day to know what it feels like to be normal.
One day to get up without the hole in my heart.
One day to leave the self hate and the guilt behind.
One day to wake up refreshed from a good nights sleep.
One day to know what it feels like to have a mothers love.
One day to be without memories.

Just one day that I can accept who I am.
One day that I can reach beyond my flaws.
One day that I am not hiding parts of me away.
One day that I am not fighting the pull of the dark side.
One day that my inside and outside match.
One day that I am not scared to face the world.

Just one day that feeling good is not just my imagination.

But I need to stop dreaming. I need to focus on the reality. I need to search in order to find the answers I so desire. 

Step One: Put my pride aside. Admit I have postpartum depression.
Step two: Rid myself the feeling that there was something I could have done to prevent it. This was not a test of my strength.
Step three: Make an appointment at the doctor. Anti depressants if necessary.
Step four: Talk to my therapist.

Maybe if I follow these steps I can climb out of the pit I have found myself in. Pick up the scattered pieces of my world that is disintegrating around me.

I know I can do this. It will only make me stronger. It will only help me be better mother for my daughter.  

Unconditional Love

Last night I read the diary I kept during my pregnancy. I'm only 8 weeks postpartum so I can easily recall the sense of eager excitement as my due date drew near. I had a difficult pregnancy. Physically the baby was healthy and well, emotionally I was a train wreck.

At around 6 months pregnant I began battling with my addiction again something I thought I had left in the past.

It was the love for my unborn baby that kept me strong. Many times it helped me stop in the tracks from doing something that could have been potentially harmful. Before I even met my daughter I knew I only wanted the best for her.

The minute my little miracle was born I felt a huge rush of maternal love and as the weeks have flown by it has only grown.

Waking up at least three times a night, eating literally every hour during the day, refusing to get into any schedule, bringing up on my newly dry cleaned clothes just as I'm running out the house,  all parts of her I love.

Sure it bothers me once in a while and I do occasionally miss the freedom I had before she was born. But it is something called unconditional love. A mothers love for her offspring. The kind of love that no matter what your child does you would do anything for them. For no reason other then you are their mother, the person who loves them more then anyone else.

My mother lives 2 streets down from me and I have seen her once in the past 4 years.

I grew up without that unconditional love, a need every child deserves to have met. When I was young I would try my hardest to earn it. Work tirelessly to please my mother hoping she would be proud of me. I was to young to understand why it would never be good enough for her.

As an adult I stopped asking for it. I realised even when said the words were meaningless. ''I love you'' does not hold any significance when two minutes later her mood had changed and it was '' I hate you''  or ''you don't deserve to live'  or the worst ''you are unlovable''.

Hearing those words drummed into me day after day I began to question if there was any truth to them. I convinced myself it was only words, I refused to let it hurt me. But obviously it did affect me till this day I find it hard to believe when my husband says he loves me.

My friends laugh at me when I tell them I don't let my baby cry. I read somewhere that babies feels a sense of security when their needs are met straight away. I'm determined my children will always feel safe, secure, and most importantly loved. And while I may go over the top a bit, overcompensate, my guess is that to much love is a way better alternative to no love.