Although this chapter of my life feels like a stinking brown shit spiral, although what I am living through seems impossible to exit, I am learning so many truths about myself. Maybe it’s all worth it. Or not. I’m not sure. My thoughts turn like giant wheels that never advance, a tractor stuck in the mud. Every solution brings me back to part of the problem. It’s quite smothering. I can’t sleep, I am failing at abstaining from alcohol….these two factors alone hinder my job search, make me even weaker than I already feel. Without money I cannot leave my husband, with my husband I can’t keep myself from drinking. Nor hating myself. Etc fucking etc.

I have always been into research. I read. I was interested in psychology at a young age, sexuality as well. At twelve I knew that my mother was in a codependent, abusive relationship. I knew that nothing my step-father ever said to me was true. I knew that he was the weak link. I knew that he needed to put down others, to hurt others in order to validate himself. I knew that I was someone worthwhile….

I knew about how abused children recreate the same hell in their adult lives. I figured that since I was so smart, that kind of shit could never happen to me. The fear I felt then has never really left me. Along with a strange sensation that every problem known to man is somehow my fault. I guess these two huge character defects have led me to where I am today.