I will be okay, I always am

When I ponder upon my depression and anxious feelings, I'm filled with a deep shame. A shame that I've heard people refer to but never admitted that this, in fact, was my life too. Putting into words the feelings of dread when I think about how terribly erratic my moods have been, how uncensored my words have been, how I've put down those around me to make myself start to feel okay. 

I've never understood the bullies who treated others badly for their own well-being, I've never believed that I could become that person. Yet for the second time in a five-year period, I've had to relook at who I am and what I'm doing. I've had to turn the tables and ask myself pertinent questions - Who do I WANT to be? WHERE do I want to be? What is my unconscious self doing when I'm not living and practicing mindfulness?

My go-to reaction seems to be anger, resentment, and irritation, I see this and I acknowledge this. It's the undying shame of who I was, who I am, and what I will become that mortifies me, terrifies me, and eats me alive. I'm stuck in a loop of, what have you done-don't say that-what have you done?

I feel like I live a fairly 'cushy' existence, I work from home (when I want to), I get to spend unlimited amounts of time with my awesome pets (who drive me nuts but keep me sane), and I'm able to study and finish my degree (a feat I know others would give limbs for). Yet when it comes down to it, I feel like an isolated spoilt brat, I'm never satisfied (not by choice), I never want to DO anything and when I do I somehow expect appraisals and all the rest. 

I guess admitting you have a problem is the first step- although, I think I've admitted this plenty of times, people who know me, know that there are some things I just can't voice, some things that get stuck in the back of my throat like breathing in a lozenge, and the shame that goes along with the depressive and anxious feelings, is what keeps me breathing that lozenge back in, whenever I have managed to dislodge it from my throat. 

I need to heal, I want to heal... I want to stop feeling the shame of sickness that I didn't ask for, that I didn't ever want but that I now have. I am trying to be better, I have a routine that I'm trying my utmost to stick to, hubby and I are moving closer to my fam-dam and I can't help but feel things will only get better there. The frequency of seeing some friends and most of all my momma will bring me back to earth and I will be okay, I always am.

Dear Dad (explicit content)

*Disclaimer, possible triggers in here and I apologize in advance to my friends and family who don't know my language use like this, but I'm sure you'll understand. 

Dear Dad,

I thought about sending this to you in some way, but you probably wouldn't give half a fuck, that is until you're drunk and you think you can still verbally abuse me over the phone (if I allow it.) But let's be honest, this is for me, not for you.

It's been a while hasn't it? As far as I remember you still tried lecturing me on the dangers of weed while drunk off your ass (I won't even go into the irony there because it would probably just go straight over your head.) In case you're wondering, I'm doing alright, apart from the depression, anxiety, panic attacks and triggers, I'm doing just dandy.

I used to think I was crazy, I used to think I was alone in the world, but mental health awareness is getting stronger daily, and I realize now that I am just ill. I have an illness, and I'm working everyday to heal myself from the hurt, from the neglect (yes you neglected me), from the abuse.

Did you know that I sought a father figure in every man because I thought that was what was missing from my life, if I had guidance from a father figure I wouldn't be so miserable, irritable and aggressive? Did you know I used to be ashamed of the anger that boiled up inside me every time someone would mention you in my company? Did you know that I don't anymore?

You see it hit me like a ton of brick this morning that you,you fucking monster, did not only physically and emotionally abuse my mother, you manipulated my brothers and I until you could no longer, you used your booming voice, your eyes and the threat of hidings from the one woman that nurtured us - you emotionally abused us... You are my abuser, and for a long time I was your victim. No longer.

I recognize the trauma you put me through, making me believe that my childish mistakes (from your child no less), somehow made me a bad person, making me feel inferior because you yourself felt inferior. You never have and never will recognize the despicable beast that lives beneath your surface, you will never acknowledge that you are the beast and deal with your own emotional trauma. And a while back I realized I could push back - you made three young children and one abused woman quake with fear, do you feel strong? So your calls are no longer answered by me, neither will I wish you a happy anything, I don't believe you deserve happiness, but I'll just let the universe take care of you.

I have forgiven your actions, I have forgiven the fucked up bullshit you put me through, but I am still reeling from the flinging tables, the animal abuse, the emotional abuse and your own , the screaming matches and drunken parties. My conditioning is something I'm still unlearning and day by day I'm getting better. I have my good and bad days but mostly you don't factor into my conscious choices. 

I am a survivor of your abuse, my mother is a survivor, the only victim now is you.

Good Luck, and good bye.