Monday, July 6, 2015

Why So Many Lies?

Feeling shitty today after therapy and dumping about my sister. We did manage to talk about some positive things and some improvements that I've made and can make but it wasn't a super satisfying session and coming home to a warm apartment, a bungled pizza pick up (I forgot the hubbo's soda), and a needy baby just ground me down...

So this afternoon I was marinating in negative feelings and felt myself starting to bemoan my situation, wondering "Why so many lies?" in my first family. It didn't take long for me to realize that it doesn't matter. It's a stupid question. Useless.

Sure, I could analyze everyone and everything and find the potential sources of whatever psychological issues my family may have but it doesn't get me anywhere. It may marginally improve my tolerance but the real issue is that I hurt. I hurt and I don't think I deserve to hurt and I don't want to hurt anymore.

My family can't provide the help or support or comfort that I need and I can't expect them to change any time soon... or ever. It's been over a quarter century, I think things are pretty set! But what I can do is manage my boundaries, create some distance, and take care of myself and the family I am starting with the hubster now.

For tonight I will try to bulk up the mental blockade against the stressors from my first family. I have a visual that usually helps quite a bit, I imagine blowing up a giant bubble around myself and then my room and then the entire condo and then the entire building, block, city etc. etc.

I need a safe zone and even if it's a lonely safe zone for the moment, I'd rather have an empty safe zone and be looking for good friends than just hanging out in a stressed, no holds barred, pressure cooker zone.

Baby steps.


  1. I think this. I think it takes a long, long time to outgrow the issues that were brought in front of us as children. I will be 45 on my next birthday and it is only in the last few years that I don't get swept back into the raging ocean that was abuse. My biological father was just plain mean abusive. It was like he thought things up to scare and control us. My brother is two years older than I am and still spends a lot of time trying to figure out why.
    If I would be able to have the golden opportunity to talk to my younger self I would tell her to stop trying to figure out why. Because there really isn't an answer, not really. Yes, my own father didn't have a father and his father didn't have a father either. A whole generational line of absentee fathers and alcoholism and abuse... But why? I don't know. I mean I *chose* to be a good parent and be there for my kids. Why couldn't my dad? And that is where I would tell myself to just breathe and let it go.
    For most of us, likely your mom and dad included, we are hurting and just muddling through. It is so damn hard, Hannah. You know this. It is hard for you and you are going to go out of your way to be the best parent to your son. I did the same for my kids but oh, did I mess up. I messed up a lot.
    I think my generation and those after mine are the first generation to talk and realize there was even a problem to begin with. Your parents probably think they did and are doing a good job. Or at least think they tried. I doubt that they have no idea that they caused you pain and continue to do so.
    I am rambling here...
    You likely will never get an answer to why there were so many lies. People lie for so many reasons. People lie and don't even know they are doing it. It is so...complicated.
    It is so easy for me to tell you to try not to figure it out. It is in our very nature to try to figure things out. I will tell you to be very gentle with yourself. You are lovely and beautiful soul. You do your best everyday despite having to battle with that damn Black Dog of Depression.
    Just for right now, let go of the questions. Go kiss your husband and your son. You are starting anew.
    Much love to you, dear one.

    1. Thank you Birdie, I count you as one of my blessings :) I know as a parent I'll screw up somehow and I know that my parents tried and did the best with what they had, now it's my turn. Acceptance, forgiveness... they're big words for a reason! Thanks for helping me focus on the goodness I have and the road ahead instead of the potholes I've hit in the past :)


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Be well, HBF