childhood trauma

Old Wounds (Mercury Retrograde)

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-from my convo with ChatGPT today-

I’ve been struggling a bit lately, and as wild as it may sound, I feel like mercury retrograde has something to do with it. When mercury is in retrograde, the past is brought back up. Whether it’s people from old relationships showing up, old wounds being reactivated, or really anything that is making you feel like “I’ve been here before,” the past is making its way back.

The ideal way to handle mercury retrograde (in my opinion) is to now handle these situations with more wisdom and patience than you had before. In a sense, we want to be able to navigate these circumstances from a higher awareness- a Higher Self. If we’re constantly distracting ourselves from feeling and dealing with these issues, then they will continue to repeat in different areas of our lives.

This time around, I’ve been in a bit of a shame spiral. I’ve been eating horribly lately, and I am actively not doing anything about it. I am thinking about food in an unhealthy way again, yet I don’t even feel worthy of changing to live a heather lifestyle. I feel like I actively sabotage any goal I have for myself (i.e. eating healthy, starting a podcast, writing a book), and I can’t tell if it’s just because I am a lazy POS or I genuinely don’t think I deserve anything of these things.

I have not been giving myself grace lately, and I know that I’m in a bad headspace when I am having such rigid, black and white thinking. I am very “all or nothing” right now, leaning heavy into the nothing part of it. I know that I still have issues with self trust, which stems from growing up in an alcoholic home, but it’s just annoying that I am literally avoiding the things that I could do to build self trust, because I’m scared of becoming obsessive or letting my perfectionism take over.

I had a little conversation with ChatGPT today, which actually kind of helped me just feel more validated in how I have been feeling. I asked it: “How do adult children of alcoholics who grew up as only children of alcoholics learn self worth and self trust?” and it really helped lay out some tools and steps for what to practice. I then ended up asking it: “What if the adult child feels that whenever they do start a routine or working towards self trust that they become obsessed and they fall into perfectionism?” and this is what came up:

I honestly didn’t even have this ah-ha moment until now- my black and white was never really “me”- it was a response to growing up in that extreme environment. It did feel like it was either good/bad or safe/dangerous often, and I also didn’t have any sibling to validate my feelings with- I internalized it all. I live with this in me, but it does not have to define me. I am always healing, and the more I understand how my brain operates, the more grace I give myself which makes room for more love and growth.

Deep down I know these heavy feelings I have right now are temporary and I will feel better again; I do feel it is important for me to actually pay attention to what’s coming up and try to feel and heal through it all. I am enough exactly as I am. We’re all complex humans with different life experiences, and we all could use a little more grace. We’re all here on earth for the first time (that we know of), and we’re all just trying to navigate our way through this chaotic, unpredictable life. Sometimes we’re in survival mode, other times we’re living and thriving, but regardless, we’re always evolving.

Father’s Day Feels

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Father’s day is always a bit weird for me. My father is alive and still very much married to my mother, and I am not even going to say that he is a bad guy or horrible person, because he is truly just unhealed. Hurt people hurt people, and my father must suffer a lot internally. I would too if I fucked up having a genuine connection with my only child.

As a teenager I would have told you he was terrible though. I would have told you how angry and mean he was to myself and my mother when no one was around to witness it. I would have told you how the more he drank, the angrier he became, and how you could 100% tell if he took something else along with his Jaeger.

Depending on how close we were, I may have told you about the time he slapped my glasses clean off my face for standing up for myself after he called me a “bitch.” Maybe I would have told you about how he cornered me in my bathroom, while I looked behind him at my mother with fearful eyes. Maybe I would have told you that after the cops came that night and we didn’t press any charges that it somehow got even worse after that.

I would have told you that my parents didn’t love each other. Hell, I’d still probably tell you that today if I hadn’t been on the healing journey I’ve been on. Now to be able to see the wounds and codependency, and I can understand why they would feel love for one another, especially when they have been together for 35 years. I just could not be apart of a relationship like that- and I have my father to thank for that.

As fucked up as my childhood was at some points, it definitely showed me a lot of what I did not want my life to be. I always knew I wanted calm, comforting love with my future husband. I knew I wanted to be with someone who handled their emotions well, and who wasn’t an angry drinker if they did have an occasional beer.

I knew I wanted a partner who saw me as a beautiful person and addition to their life; a true teammate to do this shitty thing called life with. I knew that the man I would marry would never hurt me physically or mentally, nor would he do that to our future children. I knew I had a chance to build a life outside of those walls once I got old enough, and I can’t help but be thankful for the motivation that kept me focused.

No, it wasn’t right. The rage and hurtful words I heard and witnessed was not necessary. The control and disrespect as I became an adult who was taking classes at community college was unacceptable. The lack of love I felt and lack of support for my own emotions made me realize that I’d never have a partner like that in my life- and luckily, I have the complete opposite.

My husband makes sure that I feel beautiful every single day. He does not raise his voice, nor does he have outbursts. He respects me, as well as my values and beliefs- even if he doesn’t always hold the same beliefs. He is someone who I am proud of and happy to come home to; he is someone who makes me feel safe. I am so blessed to have him in my life, and I just know that one day, he will be the best father to our child(ren).

I still will see my father today, I just make sure to go early when no drinking is happening yet. I have set my own boundaries quietly which have worked for me to have less problems and resentment over the years. I pray that he is able to heal and face what haunts him so he can put down the bottle one day, and until then I will still love him, just from a distance.

Father’s day

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Father’s day has never been my favorite. I never feel like I can say that since I know there are people out there who have lost their dads, and I also know there are people who are close with their dads who are still here. My dad and I have an improved relationship now that I have been out of the house for about six years now, but it’s still not my favorite.

I do love my dad, but I cannot say that I really like him entirely. I’d like to say I have forgiven him for what he’s done in the past, but that’s probably a lie and I definitely haven’t forgotten. I don’t sit and dwell on the past anymore like I used to, but I also won’t pretend that my dad was a great parent.

Apparently in my younger years he was very involved and happy to be around me, but once I turned seven everything changed. My dad’s cousin brought us a computer for my seventh birthday, and although it was for me, my dad said it was for him. I was able to use the computer sometimes, but for the most part my dad got lost in music and MySpace. When he’d get home from work, he’d go right to the computer and stay there for the remainder of the evening.

Another thing that happened was my grandpa (mom’s dad) died when I was seven. This sent my mom spiraling into alcoholism which my dad willingly followed her. My parents drank every single night, and although this was to “help my mom sleep,” instead it left me with restless nights of listening to their drunken rages against each other. The weekends were always worse because the drinking started earlier.

I’m now twenty-five, and they still drink every night. Luckily I moved out at 19, and it took time to stop the obsessive worrying about if my mom was okay or not, but now I know it is not my problem and there is nothing I can do about it. People will only change if they want to. Not once have they tried to get sober, and I hope they realize that this will have quite an effect on them once I decide to have children, because I cannot trust them to watch my child with their alcohol addiction.

Recently during a phone conversation, my mom tried to tell me that my dad “was nice for the most part,” to which I simply told her that was not true. I reminded her of the time where during an argument my dad screamed at me and said “who pays for the health insurance that you’re about to need if you don’t shut the f*ck up.” Of course she didn’t remember this (as they both are always drunk) and started apologizing. The intention was not to guilt trip, I was simply stating a fact.

Just because I have grown up and done well with my life, doesn’t mean that we can just pretend the traumatic shit that happened didn’t happen. Yes, I have moved on and the relationships have been civil, however that does not erase history. I don’t really prefer to talk about what happened with my parents, because my dad lives in denial and my mom lives in guilt; it’s not worth having a conversation over.

Despite everything I have been through, I did see my dad for father’s day, and I also gave him a gift that I made him which he appreciated. I do wish that he would do some self-reflection and realize what he did and how he needs to change, but at the same time it’s not my problem.