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About this blog

Stream of consciousness ramblings / a place to pour out my heavy heart.

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lunarosa

Hi, my name is Luna and my father is an alcoholic.

Hi, Luna.

A lack of motivation mixed with depression, a sprinkle of anxiety, a smattering of apathy, all mixed together and made it impossible for me to work after high school. That's why I'm 25 years old and living with my parents. I have to be around my father now and he is an alcoholic. 

When I was younger I didn't really understand that my father had a problem. I grew up with uncles coming over and drinking just as much so I just thought that's what adults did. Once I was in middle school the reality of his problem hit and by the time I was in high school I was very open with my lack of respect for him because of his drinking. Sometimes, I think maybe I'm being unfair. That he has a problem, that it's a disease. That's what everyone tells me (my siblings the kings and queen of all enablers) tell me that he has a disease and that's why he drinks. I know it'd be extremely problematic and close minded of me to say that I don't think alcoholism is a disease because I myself have never struggled with a substance abuse problem so I can't really speak on that. 

It doesn't take away the pain and embarrassment of his drinking. He reeks of alcohol, he goes on drawn out rants about any little subject that he can latch on to and he yells and screams and whenever he starts I feel like I've aged in reverse. The minute I get a whiff of alcohol on his breath and he starts yelling I feel like I'm seven again for some reason. He's the reason I hate when people yell at me and I immediately start to cry when anyone raises their voice at me, it's embarrassing but it's almost involuntary. 

My father never hit me he never did anything bad to me except yell and drive me around while he was drunk and say things that hurt me while he was drunk. Once, when I was a teenager, we were driving back from my sister's house and he kept driving up on to the curb because of how wasted he was. My mother and I were both terrified and I asked him to please slow down and try to focus on the road because I was afraid we were going to crash and die. He scoffed and told me he wished I'd die, wished I'd kill myself. He probably forgot what he said as soon as he said it. And everyone seems to think that alcohol is an excuse for never apologizing or being aware of the things that you say to hurt people. He's beginning to have health issues now as a result of his alcoholism and I don't want him to die. Part of me feels so horrible for feeling like I care less and less though. He's hurt my mother so much, not physically but with words and actions. He's hurt me the same way too. I'm tired of living in a home where I'm afraid to leave my room because I don't want him to start screaming at me or provoking me to get in to an argument (which he seems to love to do).

I'm pissed and sick of this and sick of him and I'm not supposed to feel that way because he's my dad but sometimes I hate him. 

I just want to disappear right now. I just want him to stop drinking. I just want to move out but I want my mom to be OK too.

lunarosa

I was 22 years old when I got married. I hadn't worked a day in my life. I was depressed and lost and unsure of myself. I met a nice guy who I cared for deeply but now I know I was never in love with him. I just told myself that I was because I needed a way out. How horrible is that? This man who did nothing to deserve me wasting his time and giving him a few years of lazy, half-assed "love".

I'm not dumb enough to paint him in a pure light though. He definitely had his evil side and he made me feel absolutely awful about myself. Does that justify the hurt that I put him through? Sometimes I'm haunted by the baby I never had. Sometimes I'll have dreams where I'm pregnant and whoever the father is in my dream will tell me the same thing my ex told me that day: "if you have this baby, I'm not going to love it." I was crushed. We had planned for the baby that I became pregnant with. We discussed it and agreed that we should try for a baby. Then I got pregnant and things changed. I didn't go through with the pregnancy, the pain of his words was so heavy on my shoulders and my heart and my mind. I remember how much I convinced everyone who knew what had  happened that I had chosen that path but I hadn't. I begged him to reconsider. He didn't. While I know that ultimately, the choice was the best thing judging by how our relationship crumbled quickly, I still get sad. I had the procedure a week after my birthday and he acted like it was no big deal. 

I want to be a mother so badly. Maybe one day, Luna...maybe.

Now, every thing is finally getting sorted out. The divorce is almost finalized and I can (almost!!!) close this chapter of my life for good and move forward with trying to find peace and comfort and love within myself. 

I'm attempting to take responsibility for my actions more lately. To stop trying to use the way people treat me or have treated me as justifications for my actions or choices. To stop making excuses. It can be hard. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just going to be stuck in this victim mentality forever. I don't want to be a victim, I don't want to be a survivor. I just want to be me. A person. A normal human being. I need to stop making myself the victim in every situation, I definitely feel like that's what I do.

I'm not even sure why I'm writing tonight. I can't sleep and I'm starting to feel anxious for the first time in a very long time and I'm not sure how to deal with it. I can already feel that it's going to be hard to sleep for me. I remember at the peak of my depression when I couldn't get to sleep until like 5am. I sincerely hope that isn't happening again.

My mind is racing. My anxiety is growing by the minute and I don't know how I'm going to keep it from spiraling.

I'm sending out only good and positive energy now for all of my stresses to dissolve. For any issues that I have to find attainable resolutions and for a clear head and at least four hours of sleep tonight.

Not a good night.

lunarosa

No matter how much I feel like I'm improving or feeling better or handling things better, some days seem impossible to get through. The past month has felt too hard. It takes everything in me to force myself to go to work and smile and be "on". I feel drained despite not really doing much. I feel unloved. I feel a million different things and none of them seem to be good. Nothing is interesting anymore to me either. I'm irritated by everyone and everything. I hope these entries aren't too repetitive, this is the only place I feel safe saying how I feel and what I'm thinking. I don't really have anybody to talk to and keeping a physical journal is always a bust. I always end up giving up on it or not writing in it. At least this way, nobody knows who I am and nobody that I know will ever find this or ever read it and that brings me a lot of comfort. 

The biggest things bothering me lately are feeling like I'm not doing enough and feeling unloved in general,  by everyone. I'm working a retail job that gives me hardly any hours and I'm barely scraping by on bills. I got a different job recently but I haven't started yet and I'm just feeling impatient. I'm hoping that this new job doesn't make me feel the way my current one does but I'm sure that any job would make me feel this way, it's probably due to my depression. I feel like I've started everything too late and I'm running out of time. Sometimes the inevitability of an ending to my life overwhelms me so much and makes me feel so lost and scared. There isn't any comfort in an ending for me, I just end up feeling like I'm wasting my time and at the end of my life I'll have nothing to show for myself. I fear being alone forever and never having a family and never finding a place where I feel at home and safe and comfortable. I'm just afraid of so many things. 

It's embarrassing to say out loud but I feel like nobody loves me. Even my mom. I feel like the people who claim to love me just go through the motions and they don't actually mean what they say. I struggle with feeling worthy of anything. How am I even deserving of love? I'm not a good person despite what everyone seems to think. It's like nobody really knows me or something. Nobody knows all of the awful things I've done or the way I've treated people. How manipulative and mean spirited I've been in the past. I want so badly to be good and kind and honest and to love myself but at this point, is it too late for any of that? I think maybe it might be. 

It's days like today that I just want to lay in a quiet room and daydream about disappearing and going somewhere where nobody knows me. I just want to be left alone and stop being a burden on everyone in my life. 

I know that getting in to a relationship right now isn't the best idea for me. I'm aware of that, I repeat this fact to myself all of the time. I still want to find someone to spend my life with. I just want to find someone that I love and who loves me back who'll work with me to build a good, strong relationship and I don't think I'm ever going to find that person. I hate when I voice this to people and they try and tell me that I have plenty of time but I don't want to hear that. I just want someone to listen to me for once. I know how pathetic I sound when I say I want to find a man but it's how I feel, I can't help it. Even now I'm tearing up because I don't know when it'll happen for me and I just feel so lonely. I can't keep going on the way I am, seeing J and sleeping with him and going through the motions of being in a relationship without any commitment. He could walk away from me at any moment and I'm so SICK of feeling that way! Of feeling uncertain. I want a sure thing, I want commitment.

I'm sad. I want a hug. I want to be isolated and alone at the same time. I just want someone to listen to me and tell me that everything is going to be OK but I have nobody and I'm tired of having nobody, not even a friend to reach out to. My family will never be there for me, they don't care about me and they don't have time for me.

 

I'm alone. I will continue to be alone for a long time, most likely and I'm just going to have to get used to that. I'm going to have to let this sadness go and try and move on and live and push myself to be OK and live my life.I need to grow up and go to work every day and be an adult and a normal person. I want so badly for the good things to come but I'm afraid they never will. 

lunarosa

*possible trigger warning*

I know.

I am totally and completely aware that dwelling on or even thinking about what if's or what should have been's or whatever is completely counter productive. Totally unhelpful and maybe even harmful. It was pretty much the only thing that I did towards the end of high school and in to my (very early) 20's (I'm only 25). All I could think about as I was attempting to navigate the murky, traumatic memory filled waters of my depression was one question: "What kind of person would I be now if I hadn't been molested?". That question, sometimes worded differently, flashing in my mind in my darkest, saddest times. A bright, buzzing neon "what if".

It's harmful to think about that, I think. (What would I know, I haven't seen a therapist yet). Harmful to visit that place where I daydream about this girl, this version of Luna that is completely OK. She's about fifty pounds lighter, she has clear skin (whoever claims the secret to better skin is to drink more water is seriously mistaken, I think I'm the most well hydrated person out here and I still have awful skin). She has a good job or she's about to finish school and get a good job, a job that she's passionate and happy about. She has a great boyfriend and they are planning to get married and start a family soon. She never got married at 22 to a man she didn't love simply because she felt suffocated and trapped and like she desperately needed to escape her own self-imposed prison. She has great friends and good habits and she doesn't let men use her as a stand-in until they find the person that they want to marry.

I know that I will never be able to change what happened to me. Never. I will never have true justice. That Luna that haunts my daydreams, that mocks me from her secure and neatly put together bubble doesn't exist and she will never exist because the real Luna got molested and it changed her brain and changed the way she coped with things and shaped the choices she made and the way that she saw herself and lots of other things. The anger that I felt has lessened considerably. The pain has lessened as well. Surprisingly, it's been a change that I hardly even felt happening until I look back now on the way I felt a year ago, even. It will never fail to cause a twinge of anger when I consider that one decision that was out of my control changed the course of my life. 

Who told my brother that it was OK? That he was allowed to make a choice that would destroy me? Has he ever thought about it? Has he ever gotten therapy for what he did to me? Does he ever feel sorry or guilty or anything? Does he ever want to apologize to me for what he did? I think this is the first time I've typed these questions out without crying. I think I'm finally approaching some kind of peace with this situation and for once I'm not, not crying because I feel numb. I just generally don't want to cry.

It's hot and I'm sleepy and and I miss J, I'm at his house until tomorrow because I like to prolong my suffering and spend days at his place even though we aren't dating. He'll be home from work soon and I'll be my usual stupid self: begging him to give me attention and being hopelessly in love with him.

lunarosa

II

I have a job, that's good. I'm grateful but I feel restless and like I'm "supposed" to be achieving so much more than I am. I feel like my anxiety has vastly improved. I feel like I'm a different person than I was a year ago but then there are the moments where the anxiety overtakes me and the negative self-talk overwhelms me and I feel like I'm back to where I started: feeling utterly and completely hopeless and useless. 

I'm back in CA, where I belong, I suppose. I've always felt like I feel more at home here than any other place I've been. Maybe it's just that there are so many familiar people. 

My life is about to change a lot soon. If I can manage to push pass the intense anxiety at even the idea of applying for community college, I'll be starting school in Spring. If I'm able to get any financial aid. And that depends on if my ex gets our divorce finalized next month the way he's supposed to so that I can use my parent's tax information because I'm a dependent. I hardly make any money and couldn't possibly make it living on my own let alone pay for college. I can't even pay my bills.

I feel like I have things much more together than I used to but some parts of life are still a mess. I'm still engaging in some sort of weird non-relationship with J. He calls me his best friend but it's more than that. Right? Best friends don't typically sleep together and kiss and hold hands and tell each other they're in love. Despite the fact that I haven't seen my ex or really spoken to him in...wow...a long time...J insists he can't be with me until my divorce is finalized. Which I totally understand, I just wish it hadn't taken so long for me to get it taken care of. Thank my anxiety for that, always putting uncomfortable things off until the last minute because it stresses me out to even think about them. But I have the suspicion that even after the papers go through and I'm officially single it won't make a difference. Part of me is convinced that we won't ever be together. That maybe we don't belong together. He seems so great but then I really start to think about things and I wonder if this is healthy. If he's right for me. I finally feel like I deserve quite a bit in the romance category, I'm not as self-conscious as before and have a much better sense of my worth. There are a lot of things I could type out here about his temper and his lack of communication skills and how terribly frustrating it is for me to feel like he doesn't tell me anything (despite the fact that he repeatedly tells me that he feels such a strong connection with me and wants to tell me everything and I'm his best friend). One of the biggest things I think about is when I was living with him last year, before the break up, I got a UTI. The worst UTI I've ever gotten in my entire life, I was in so much pain I couldn't even stand up straight and walk and I had a horrible fever. I told him I needed to go to an urgent care because I couldn't take the pain, it was terrible. I wasn't crying or anything, I can buck up quite a bit in the face of physical pain (usually). I wasn't working at the time and he was getting ready to leave for work. I half expected him to offer to drive me to the clinic but he didn't. He didn't even really come over and comfort me or say much....at all. I ended up telling him I was going to take a Lyft to the clinic so I could get some medication to clear it up and he still didn't offer to take me...I was too embarrassed to ask him to come at that point even though I was anxious as hell to go to urgent care and I hate doctors and had never felt this sort of intense pain before so I was just all around scared in general and could have used him there for support. But I said nothing and he didn't seem very worried at all. So I grabbed a water bottle and waited for my car to pick me up and he gave me a kiss and told me to let him know what happened. That's it. I had to ride in a Lyft to Urgent Care in intense pain, alone. And wait to be seen by a nurse for about an hour and a half, alone. Still in pain and still terrified and anxious. Later, he called me and gave me a half-hearted apology: "I should have taken you." 

I'm still hurt by this, isn't that strange? There's nothing like being in pain and your boyfriend let's you take a car service to the clinic without comforting you for you to feel like he doesn't give a crap about your pain or you. Yet, I still go see him. Still consider him my best friend. Still miss him and love him and hope he means it when he says he feels the same. I wish I could read minds sometimes.

This post was just a rant about my "relationship" (friends with benefits sounds so....blegh). But this is what this blog is for. For me to spill my guts out since I have nowhere else to turn to and no real friends to speak of. Besides J. But it would be a little strange for me to rant about him to him, wouldn't it.

lunarosa

One

I can't read anymore. I love to read but I can't anymore. Every time I try I feel like my mind is clouded by too many thoughts and memories and I can't push past them and focus on the words. My eyes recognize them, they're familiar but they don't register as much in my brain. I read the same paragraph four times. My eyes don't want to focus on anything anymore, driving seems impossible because I don't feel like I'm anywhere. I feel like I'm floating somewhere just outside myself, performing tasks and answering questions like a robot. Saying things I think I'm supposed to say, going along with everything because that's what I do best. I've never had very good control of my own life.

Here I am now. Closer to 30 than I ever thought I'd get with no job and no prospects. Married even though I don't want to be but without enough guts to demand things be resolved as quickly as possible. And who am I to demand anything? I can't even pay for a divorce, I can't even pay for gas. I can't even pay for a package of soup or feminine hygiene products. I ignore the bills that pile up in the background, the phone calls demanding minimum payments. I wonder if I would ever get up the nerve to end everything and know I am too afraid of death to accept that option although sometimes it seems like the easiest. I'm falling apart completely. I am floating aimlessly. I just want to be independent and successful and happy and not feel so wretched all of the time. Like my muscles and bones hurt constantly and I'm fat and useless and ugly and lazy and.

I can't close my eyes lately without hearing all of the things he said when he abused me. I can't sleep because I just play back the incidents that I remember and the new ones I'm starting to remember. I want to cry, I want to start my life all over again as a baby, fresh and new and clean and pure and unused. I want to start all over again with no older brother. With no family members who don't care or don't understand or don't believe. Start over and become the confident and normal and stable person I know is hidden somewhere in this mess. Instead, I'm forced to try and pull myself out of this despair and take responsibility for my actions and be assertive and bubbly and put things behind me. Why is it so hard for me and so easy for other people?

I'll stop. My muscles are aching and sore, I feel decrepit and ugly. My eyes hardly want to focus on the screen. 

I can do this, I can do this, I can be OK.

 

Where do I start?

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