In second grade when I was 7 years old, many things happened in my life...  among the many, one time my mother looked at me & sd, "you look so beautiful when you cry".  (& pls don't get me wrong, I have forgiven her for these words & have dealt with this &/or maybe still dealing with it but I do not blame her for anything).

In my childish brain, these words made me furious & enraged.  I made a conscious decision NEVER to cry in front of her again. 

The sad truth of the matter is that, while I shut out one part of my emotionalism...  other parts shut down too.  At that age, you can feel EVERYTHING but you have no way of articulating any of it.  I eventually became so shut down, so out of touch with all of my feelings...  by the time I was 15 (had already run away twice) came back home or was dragged back home - enrolled in my old high school.  The second day, my mother sd she "couldn't handle me & was going to send me to a boarding school".  I stared fuming out of the car window - frozen in a fire of ice & knew what I was going to do.

Without saying another word to her the entire trip home, we walked into the house, I walked upstairs & took the 38 snubbed nose gun by her bedside (we were living in NOLA - it was a dangerous enough place to warrant having a gun) - locked myself in the bathroom, layed on the floor, put the gun in my teeth, bit down & pulled the trigger as hard as I could. 

As I tried to fire the gun threw the neighbors window & beat my hand with the gun in the wall, trying to make it fire...  my mother & step-father called the police.  The lock on the door was a chain lock.  When the cops showed up they could see me through the cracked open door, sitting on the ground via the reflection in the mirror.

I was hysterically telling them my story pounding the clenched gun into my chest as I spoke.  They eventually convinced me to put the gun down, stand up & bend over the sink to splash water on my face.

You can imagine what happened next...  two cops & the door came flying into my 5'2" 102# frame throwing me across the bathroom into the tub & a huge chunk of the door (imagine a splinter 14" long & 3" wide) went up into the side of my calf.

I don't even remember walking to the squad car, I think the police carried me.  I LITERALLY collapsed in the back seat, emotionally & physically exhausted.  It was similar to an out of body experience...  I could hear the officer's talking but I couldn't move, I couldn't even open my eyes.  They sd stuff like, "what a beautiful girl"; "what a waste"; "how could anyone so young be so upset as to try suicide".

Yes the gun was confiscated by the "man" yes I was placed in a private hospital for a few months, to "re-learn" my emotions again. 

When I was first admitted...  I was on PC (personal contact) which meant I had to be within arm's length of a counselor.  I went in on a Friday so I never saw a doctor until Monday.  It was demoralizing having a woman watch me shower to shave my legs. I think I had to sleep with the door open, I guess they thought I was going to hang myself with a sheet!

When the psychiatrist saw me, he immed took me off of "PC" he sd, you need help & were deperately acting out but you are not suicidal.

I was depressed for 20 years...  I did "fantasize" about being out of pain but I never wanted to die - I simply wasn't living, I didn't know how nor did I have a clue as to help myself.

Jump to 22 years later...  today I am learning how to live for me.  After months of struggle & focus, I no longer feel "guilty" thinking about my needs -- with practise it does get better & no situation is hopeless.  I may have acoa patterns to focus on & change but the abuse stops here - I am co-dependent no more!

Forgiving myself helped a lot, so did forgiving my ex husband (an addict).  Each day with focusing on my HP... it is getting better.  I did not have hope for over 20 yrs - today I have hope & still a flicker of love emanating from within for myself...  gives me a lil feeling of joy which is so new & different to experience...  I am eternally grateful to the program, the loving Souls in it & to God that has allowed me to reach this moment in my life.

Thanks.

holy moly!!!  kitty this share of yours, i can SOOO relate.....the perp  felt more powerful if we cried/ showd pain....and if you loved somthing like my beautiful german shepherd??? he would kill it......so i quit crying....i quit feeling....i quit!!!!!   but the emotions didn't go away...they went *under*    ...how did i deal????   drinking/ tranquilizing drugs. to keep my *demons* at bay

finally after numerous/ failed suicide attempts, i got into here........now i know there are OTHER emotions than just  fear and rage!!!!  and i feel them!!!!!  i don't stuff ANYthing any more.....

i am so glad you got to this point where you can FEEL!!!!!  it is our RIGHT!!!!!!   love and hugs/  rosie

(((((((((((Kitty))))))))),

Thank you for such an open and honest share. I want to hug the little girl for all the pain she went through, and hug the beautiful women she turned into. I can not even begin to imagine all that you went through. I believe you are a walking, talking, alanon miracle.

Much Love,

OMG KItty

 I can totally relate to you.... I have trouble crying big time.... I dont cry and I always pretend I am happy... I know I am not... I just lie to myself. I dont know how many times suicide had  been in my head. I have like 5 different ways I could kill myself. And what rosie said about the dog triggered something.

 My dad was evil I mean evil he was jelous of my brother and i... He used to break our toys at Christmas...

And this is soo sad, about 2 years ago i went back to live with my dad to try to save my brother from him.... anyways he bribed me to stay with a dog... LOl im dumb, but ok i stayed for a while thinking he had changed and he was  nice to me for 2 days. Then he started to get mad at the lil dog it was a puppy for crying out loud. He beat it one day while I was at school and I came home to see the poor dog all bloody... I then wanted to kill the bastard. Then he started crying for some strange xxxx reason. then the puppy came crying to me shaking to go near my dad. I said what did you do to this dog??? then he got mad and took the dog from me and was about to beat it, and I said pick on someone your own size... Then he said ok ill get you. I said fine... he took off his belt and started to beat me I didn't care as long as It wasn;t the dog or my bro he was hitting... I was numb i felt nothing...... and if I cried he only did it more and harder......

My escape from all of this was cutting or not eating.. I thought I could make myself invisible....

~~*** It hurts me to know that I never cried out to someone.. or even in general.. I always held everything in, and still do sometimes to this day. The only way people truly know h ow I feel on a daily basis is through my poetry....

Through poetry I am able to let my inner child feel.....

Lauren~

"I was numb i felt nothing...... and if I cried he only did it more and harder......"  Lauren, this is what happened to my mother & her sisters -- my g/ma would go out & drink & come home tear up the house, dumping out drawers, dragging them out their beds by their hair, pulling them down the hallway.  If the spoke back or cried she would say "Oh, I'll really give u something to cry about!"  They all would get beaten in order of their age...  my g/ma had them in Catholic schools & would say junk like, "u don't think i would ever hit u where someone could see!"  so she knew if any of them ever told --- they would get it worse! 

My mom was the middle child, she talked back & stood up to her.  She says she felt genuine love from her mom.  The older one got pregnant & married @ 14 to get away.  She had 4 kids beat the f**k out of the first 2 -- by the 2nd ones, let 'em off the hook.  But she seriously had fist fights with her first two kids. 

 The younger one, whom my mother virtually raised, to this day says, "I never remember momma ever hugging me or holding me"  she was the last to get beaten so she said watching the other two get beat first & all of that fear & psychological damage was worse then the actual beatings themselves.  She had one baby girl -- I remember (she was 2.5 yrs younger than I) she would lock her in a broom closet (it is a teeny tiny space not even 1x1 ft i don't think.  Now my "lil" cousin has 3 kids... she ways over 450 # - I posted about her the other day -- she beats up her husband & I guess when she gets tired, she has her 17 year old beat up on him too.  I fear the worst for her other kids that are 8 & 3 (I think). 

"My escape from all of this was cutting or not eating" Lauren, I starved myself from 15 years old to I guess 33 - a year after I got home - after running away from my addict of a husband.  I still forgot to eat for a whole year, I was dating a marathon roller blader at the time & he got me eating.  I was way emaciated -- now I have put on 60# -- it was more I took about 10 # off -- I think if I lose about 20 or 30 more I will look pretty thin again -- I don't need my hip bones sticking out anymore. 

Plus having been a gymnast forever, I weigh 25 # more than I look cuz of all the muscles.  I put the weight on slowly & gradually & I plan to take it off the same, slow & easy, that way it is more likely to stay off.

PLEASE EVERYONE THAT READS THIS, KNOW I DO NOT BLAME MY MOTHER FOR PSYCHOLOGICALLY HURTING ME, SHE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT SHE WAS DOING.  I LOVE HER SO MUCH, I AM ALMOST EMBARRASSED BY THIS POST, I HOPE SHE DOESN'T READ IT, IT WOULD CRUSH ME IF IT HURT HER FEELINGS...  THIS IS NOT WHY I WROTE IT.

I wrote about my "young self" because I have been reading other ppl's posts about their A's & their kids & families.  I just want everyone to know that kids suffer anyway -- the only way to protect them is to get out of a dysfunctional environment & get counseling -- MY HUMBLE OPINION, OF COURSE.

THIS IS ALSO WHY I WROTE "EMOTIONAL ENMESHMENT" SO PPL COULD UNDERSTAND HOW IT HURTS THE ENTIRE FAMILY.

love to all, you are all my friends in recovery, MAY GOD BLESS & HEAL US ALL, I PRAY

kitty....

I can relate to you on many levels.... I would like to talk with you more in private