Lately, after my last hospital stay and trauma in November I have been reflecting on how my abuse as a child changed the person I might have been. I can pinpoint it back to the time I was in elementary school, how things seemed different for me. How I didn't interact the same as other kids did. Maybe I am doing what if's, but I know I don't have the life I would like or the life I should of had. I have had some successes, but they were almost torture. I ran and did so competitively, but I was completely obsessed with it and my diet. I later had to stop because of osteoporosis due to my eating disorder and my inability to let myself recover when needed; I pushed beyond human limitations. I am well educated; I did so while working. Yet, I obsessed over my grades and I worried constantly about if I was good enough. Now, I don't give myself credit for my education because I don't feel I went to good enough schools. The stress from being perfect took a toll on my health both physically and mentally.
I am 45, retired and disabled. I had kids early because I rushed into marriage and family (trying to get that family I never had, but always wanted). I'm divorced and alone. Having kids early, means they leave early. Mine didn't just move down the street, they went into the military. It's not even just the physical aspects of it all. It is the misery I feel day in and day out. The lack of judgement that I seem to exercise over and over. I should of been so much more.
I haven't spoken about it. It just came out in therapy, but my inability to exercise boundaries and my lack of judgement hurt me again. Boundaries are the single most difficult concept for me to learn. Like an idiot, against my better judgement, I let someone in my house to drop off something after a night of drinking. Drinking has been an issue and I've been doing well after my latest inpatient treatment. I was drunk, then passed out. I only have two memories I was so drunk, but it is enough. This was in November, November 9th to be exact. A different person wouldn't have gotten into that situation.
And yet, while all of this has already been on my mind, Barbara Streisand said "it didn't kill them." I beg to differ, I think it killed me in a way that she cannot understand. it profoundly influenced my life in a negative way. I read the other day that there are people who are alive because their kids are. I thought that was beautifully stated and so very true.