Dealing With Pain From The Past and Finding A Way To Move On…

Hey all,

(This part was written after the whole post was finished)

Now before I start, I just want you to know that I get into some serious in depth details about my childhood, and the things that forged me into who I am now. I just wanted to warn you because after this post, none of you may look at me the same way. I’m okay with that. I’m pretty drunk, and especially so when I wrote this… So It might not make any sense.

And here goes nothing…

One of the biggest issues I have with being Bipolar is lacking the confidence to be myself around people. I dont have a lot of people in my life that honestly know how I really am, warts and all. It’s a defense mechanism. And it makes me really lonely. It’s hard to let anyone beyond the walls I’ve built around myself, because I suppose at the end of the day, I dont feel “normal” and I guess I’m not comfortable in letting people see the real me. It’s why I’ve never been able to establish a real meaningful relationship, either romantically or personally. But the question I find myself asking most is it all worth it? I’ve spent my whole life wanting to feel like someone understands me, but how can anyone get me if I simply don’t let them?

I suppose it’s because I dont want to risk rejection if someone knows me for everything. If someone doesn’t want a part of anything of me and they dont know who I am, it’s a lot easier to handle than someone who knows me inside and out and still decides to reject me. Is it such a bad thing to want to protect myself from people, and more importantly protect others from me?

I don’t really want to be so guarded from people, but I guess I’m still dealing with how I am makes me feel so different from everyone else. I wish I could just switch things off, and be who I really want to be. But I don’t know if that’s even possible anymore. Sometimes I really like who I am, but for the most part, I feel like I’m a crazy moody freak.

Being unable to sustain anything rational for an extended period of time can be very trying. For me, and for those who know me. It serves to isolate me from the world and I really hate it. It’s at times like this that I wish I was on meds, and able to act remotely normal. But I decided the path I was on was worth more than adhering to rules set by others, and I dont want to be anything other than who i am, even if it means driving people away.

It’s just a hard path to have to tread on my own, that’s all. I’m simply insecure and bonkers. We are all products of circumstance, and unfortunately my circumstances were especially horrific. At least they were for me.

I’ve always felt worthless and unloved. It all started as a kid, being beaten by my father, and being told I wasn’t what he wanted as a son. All I’ve ever wanted was to feel accepted for who I am. My dad wanted a kid he could show off to the world, but I was always happy being in my own world of video games and comics. He simply wanted a son who was active, good at sports and outgoing.

And that wasn’t me.

One memory particularly stands out.

He returned home from playing golf with my Uncle Rod and Barry and after ordering me to pack away his golf clubs, he told me that everyone was talking about their kids. Barry was talking about how Chad (his son) was doing this and that, and Rod spoke about Shane getting into cars. Then he looked me in the eyes and said something that always stays with me, no matter how much I love my dad…

“Do you know what I told them about you? Nothing. Because I couldnt think of anything I liked”

It gutted me.

I hated my father during those terrible years. You see, every boy idolises his father… but my dad didn’t think I was worth a damn. Do you have any idea how it feels to have the man you look up to more than anyone else, telling you you’re a piece of shit? Every time he came home from the pub drunk only to bash everyone only made me hate him further.

I attempted suicide 3 days after that.

I can still remember how the metal of the gun tasted in my mouth, how in the second when I had my thumb on that cold stiff trigger, that I could just pull it and end it all. But one thing saved me. How much I love my sister and my mum. I couldn’t ever put them through finding me like that, brains all over the room. So I made a pledge to myself on that night, that no matter how terrible I felt, no matter how alone I was, that I’d never ever put them through it. I’d never give up.

I’d never allow myself to be the failure my father thought I was.

I’ve never once told anyone this. I dont know why I chose a blog to finally share it with the world but what’s done is done.

Now it took a few more years of this abuse for me to finally find some respect in my fathers eyes. After a particular heavy night of drinking, dad came home and went off harder than usual. He couldn’t get into my room, I’d barricaded the door so he started on my sister. My sis has always been so strong like that, she wouldn’t back down from anyone. I love her so much. She never once backed down from him, and attacked him when he started on her. And he didn’t like that… Not one bit.

I remember it so vividly. Hearing mum screaming at dad, the thumping of her head hitting the wall. But it was a simple sentence that did it for me.

“P***r, you’re killing her!” (I’ve omitted dad’s name for obvious reasons)

That was enough for me. I dont know what came over me, but I’m glad it did. I’d scared to think what might have happened if I didn’t act.

I tore away the couch from the door and charged down the hall. There they were and time seemed to slow. The memory is still fresh in my mind. In a way it was a moment in my life that defined me. Dad had her by the throat and she was off the ground, her feet flailing about, face turning blue. I just charged up and hit him with everything I had. He dropped her and fell away. I stood between dad and my mum and my sister and said…

“If you ever touch them again… I’ll Kill You” And I honestly meant it.

I was no longer that scared quiet boy. I was the protector of those I loved, from the devil who only loved us when it suited him. In that moment, I was invincible, no longer scared for myself…

Dad took one look at me, and for a second I believe he was considering attacking me too… But then something in his eyes changed. He cried. It was the first time I’d ever seen my father cry. And it humanized him in my eyes. At that age, I had no idea what he’d gone through and seen in Vietnam, but I always loved him. I suppose that’s why I hurt so much. And why it still does.

Here’s a quote that always rang true with me…

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold.” Frodo – Return of The King

Dad decided to get some help after that. Many years of therapy and medication has finally turned my dad into a real father, someone I love with all my heart. But the overall effect of the whole thing is still with me now. Sadly, it’s things like this that still affect you as an adult. Things that are beaten into you, that they never really leave. No matter how much you try and kid yourself that they’re gone.

I’ve finally discovered that by talking, and getting the burden off your chest that the healing process can finally begin.

For so many years, I hid myself behind lies and masks just so I could feel that I could be loved. But as I got older I came to realize that it was all pretend. I couldn’t hide from myself anymore. No matter how much sex I had or how many drugs I take, I was still me when the morning came. I still had to look myself in the mirror.

I’ve accepted I’m messed up and terribly emotional. I’m a good person inside and out, and I don’t need to feel ashamed for being who I am. I’m no longer the boy I was, I’m a man who needs to get past the “past” and embrace the future. Life is mine for the taking! I’m still on that journey, but this post is a step in the right direction.

At the end of the day, I am who I am. I’m by no means perfect, but I’m learning to love myself for who I am. When I finally get there I’ll be so much stronger for it…

Well I think I have had enough sharing for the time being. I’ll write more next post.

Till next time…

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2 thoughts on “Dealing With Pain From The Past and Finding A Way To Move On…

  1. You’re a good fella, Adam. There are so many ways that you could have turned out from that kind of upbringing, yet you stood your ground and became one heck of a trooper. Any healing, of any kind, is living proof that your life does indeed matter to someone. Keep that thought with ya on your journey!

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