Learning in Loneliness

I am a social butterfly. I love people for the most part. They are a drug to me I enjoy the interactions and I especially enjoy my close friends and family. I am not built to be alone, yet here I am alone again. I have been alone my whole life, never marrying and I have no kids. I have do not have many romantic relationships and the ones I do never last for very long. As soon as the relationship becomes more intimate than “just friends”, I run the other way, usually finding an excuse as to why it won’t work out. I self-sabotage the relationship before it even gets off the ground.

I realized that these actions are learned behaviors from my childhood trauma. I don’t trust many people and even the close friends that I do; I still have my guard up; always waiting and looking for any indication as to why I shouldn’t trust them. This creates problems, because any little hint of frustration from them or negative comment, I deeply internalize in a big way. This creates depression and insecurity for me and I automatically think they don’t like me and very soon the friendship will crumble. That is when I become unsure, needy and tend to act irrationally because of the fear of losing a very meaningful relationship/friendship in my life.

I have lived most of my life in a tremendous amount of loneliness. I wonder if I will ever be truly loved and if I will ever marry and feel valued. Being Lonely isn’t the same thing as being alone. I believe being lonely is inner emptiness caused by our pre-disposed image that we are not worthy of anything good, including loving friends, committed relationships and even God. Abuse survivors feel isolated in their emotions being closed people only letting a select few in. Those select few become our nucleus and we rely on them heavily which is not fair to them. Trust issues lead to our loneliness. If we trusted more we would have more people in our lives.

I was often lonely and depressed as a child and I have taken this into my adult life. As a result, I don’t have the ability to form social relationships in a healthy manner. I do get along with people but if they hurt me even once whether intentionally or unintentionally it is hard for me to trust them again, especially if they do not mean that much. I have a hard time speaking up for myself for fear that if I do that person will leave me. Therefore I sacrifice myself, my feelings, my emotions, and my dignity out of fear.

I have chosen a lot of the time to cut myself off from people because I am tired of being hurt by them. I have never been one to have a large number of friends. I can’t handle them. I feel socially isolated much of the times and my interpersonal skills sometimes suffer.

It has been noted that Childhood abuse creates two distinct interpersonal styles of relating: Both are dysfunctional and stem from the abuse. Adult survivors may adopt one of two interpersonal styles: avoidant or intrusive.

The avoidant style is characterized by low interdependency, low self-disclosure and low warmth. People with the avoidant style have few interpersonal ties and few friends. They are less likely to be involved in relationships with others and less likely to be married.

The intrusive style is at the opposite end of the spectrum. This is me for the most part. These People with the intrusive style have extreme needs for closeness. There is excessive self-disclosure, and relationships are smothering. This style is overly demanding and controlling of others. Both the avoidant and intrusive styles are dysfunctional and are likely to result in loneliness.

I recognized this monster early in my life. It is a chapter in my upcoming book “Shards Of Glass” called Monster’s in my Closet. I knew I had a dysfunctional way of relating to people when I was in middle school. I knew I had an addictive personality clinging on to those that met an unresolved emotional need within me. I knew my shortcomings then and the tendency for this behavior to resurface now, whenever I feel threatened or unappreciated feeling the friendship/relationship slipping away.

I wish I could just be “Normal” and relate in healthy manners with the people I love and care about. Every day is a constant battle to relate to people in societal healthy parameters. I don’t usually expect the friends I have to stick in my life and stay for long periods of time. I usually expect them to leave in tragic, gut wrenching ways leaving gaping holes in my life and in my heart!

My daily prayer is that I will continue to learn and recognize the new healthy ways to relate to people and the proper place to put those meaningful people in my life without relating to them unhealthily. I pray for healing and for discernment whenever I start to revert back into old patterns of relating. I pray for the courage and knowledge to step out of the negative patterns.

I don’t want to be lonely forever! I don’t want to be lonely one more day! I don’t want to suffer in loneliness and worthlessness for one minute longer! I refuse to let any past negative behaviors rule my present and my future! I am choosing to live in Victory and to live Positively with others from here on out! This is my Declaration to myself and the ones I love. I ask for forgiveness, understanding and patience as I move from ingrained relating patterns out into new uncharted waters! Stepping out in Faith that I can do this! I pray those friends who I have hurt and mistreated haven’t left me! But if they have, I trust that from here on out, my friendships will be healthy and meaningful.

I pray that I will never be lonely again!

Comfortable in Chaos

As an adult survivor of severe physical, mental, and emotional abuse, sexual molestation, and rape, I was constantly subjected, involved or a witness to everyday chaos in my home environment. There was no such thing as “Normal” in my household, and every day was filled with constant anxiety and fear for when the next horrifying event was going to happen. At that time, I did not realize how dysfunctional things were, I did not know that it was odd or strange to have every conversation or interaction end either in a fist fight/beating or a verbal altercation so damaging, it would take the paint off your skin.

What is Normal? Conforming to the standard or the common type, usual, not abnormal; regular, natural .

What is Chaos? The state of utter confusion, lacking any order or organization. -Dictionary.com.

Well, in an odd sense, my childhood was normal; I learned to conform to the standard, common regular traumatic daily events occurring. This was my “Normal” throughout my entire young and teen life. I did not know that these situations were wrong and abusive. I thought all families lived like this, at least when I was younger. I realized by age 10 that my family was severely “Messed Up!”

Every day was spent on guard, waiting for the next damaging or horrific event to occur. I learned to be hyper-vigilant, always in a fight or flight state, always scanning my environment for danger and adopt danger avoiding behaviors. Children who are raised in a physically, emotionally or sexually abusive environment live in a state of chaos. “Walking on Eggshells,” just waiting for the next event. This creates a pervasive fear, a common core belief developed by children in this situation is, “something bad is always going to happen.”


As adult survivors, we learned very early unacceptable ways of communication, coping, reacting, thinking and interacting with others. As most psychologists will concur, what happens during those first years of development has a strong influence later on in life. When children are exposed to adverse situations, such as violence and abuse, the outcomes of that play a significant role later in life and how we react.
In a normal, loving, nurturing environment where the child feels safe, protected and secure they grow up believing they are “Lovable” and that “People can be Trusted” and “The world is a safe place.”

I grew up believing just the opposite, that I am “Unworthy of Love or Good things in my life”; “Nobody can be Trusted”; “The World is a cruel/unsafe place,” and “Something bad is always going to happen!”
We learned our coping skills in a dysfunctional environment and carry them with us into the adult world, where they simply do not work! We have been so “Normal” in functioning in Chaos because it is all we have ever known. We interact with others; react to situations, display anger and outrage in very unacceptable, “Abnormal” ways. We often sabotage any happiness and relationship we do find, or when circumstances and issues in life are going smoothly because the dysfunctionalism is much more familiar, we can cope and deal with crisis better. Sometimes we do this unintentionally. We learned early that hopelessness, and haplessness was how we often felt and how life should be lived-In a constant state of Chaos and agony. I know I feel unworthy at times to have anything “Good” happen in my life. I often feel that I am unworthy of love and acceptance by others.

It is easy for me to reverting back into old patterns of thinking, interacting with friends/loved ones, emotions, and self-destructive actions. I have had to unlearn these negative coping skills that were engrained patterns from my youth. It is a constant daily battle not to let emotional triggers or stressful situations affect my life. My insane coping skills were taught at such a young age that things that are natural and normal to me, others find crazy and weird. When I am emotional and distraught the familiar mechanisms of coping come rushing back into my life and if not recognized immediately, will take hold causing irrational thinking and behaviors to surface. To the average person who did not grow up in chaos, they don’t understand the constant battle adult survivors of abuse suffer from. We seem abnormal and never thankful or content with the good in our lives. We think that at any moment that security can be ripped away, so rather than wait for the inevitable to happen we self-sabotage because the chaos and crisis feels and seems normal to us! We know how to operate, cope and adapt to chaos and crisis environments because it has been all we have ever known. We have no idea, until we have healed, and have learned positive coping skills by putting them in to daily practice, how to function “Normally” in society.

I am learning that I am worthy of “Great” things happening in my life. I am worthy of love, appreciation and value by others. I do not have to live in a constant state of chaos and crisis because it is physically, emotionally and mentally draining. I have learned to cognitively realize that those childhood belief no longer apply in my adult life or environment. I will not sabotage the positive good things in my life and will be surer to enjoy them when they are there. Happiness is not a feeling; it’s a state of mind, where you are content in whatsoever circumstance you’re in. Knowing and trusting that the Lord has “Got This.” I will not create crisis and chaos in my life!

Emotional Neediness

I was recently told by a dear friend that my neediness is sometimes overwhelming and frustrating to deal with. She seemed angry that my interactions or texts with her and others sometimes seem desperate, where I look unsure,unconfident,and helpless. I asked her why this bothered her so much and she said, “Because I don’t want others to see you as this needy helpless person. You should have more pride and respect for yourself.” Her concern was not selfish but spoken to help me see my actions and be a better person and act differently. Since this conversation my Neediness has been on my mind. I am a confident person most of the time but when life circumstances or emotional swings occur all I hear in my head, are these words, yelled at me by my father throughout my entire childhood; “Your fat, stupid, ugly, never going to amount to anything.” Those words, no matter how desperately I try to prove wrong, seem to surface constantly, especially in my interactions with friends. I do have denial and although I pride myself on being a very unselfish person, when it comes to my emotional needs being met I do tend to become very selfish with others at times, especially when I start to panic, and I want them to make me “Feel Better.” It is not my friends, family or anyone else’s responsibility to make ME feel, Loved, Appreciated, Accepted, or Valued. I must! I am the only person who can. These emotional needs stem from my lack of self-esteem, which was shattered, due to my childhood abuse and abandonment. I never see myself as a victim, however these traits are ingrained in the Adult Survivor and unless they are seriously dealt with by a professional and brought to light, the consequences WILL lead to many failed relationships and the loss of important people in your life. My major fear is “Rejection,” and that fear makes my behavior irrational at times. I interpret events or actions by other in the context of this fear. It is then processed and filtered through my anxiety and I quickly start to panic. I am usually unaware that I am being needy with people as these are habits and tendencies ingrained in me from childhood. I then think and act irrationally and become NEEDY! Neediness is a weakness and I know I rely on my friends for much of my support, I always have and especially in high school, they were ALL I had. My family was not where I gained any emotional support or stability. It is where it was torn apart by my father’s extreme abuse. I have taken this pattern into my adult life and until the other day; I have never really had someone hold a mirror in front of myself, causing me to not like what I see regarding my neediness. My friend has mentioned this before, but until the other day I dismissed her comments and continued to be selfish in my needs. I should never let anyone control my worth and happiness. I am the only person, through God’s love and tender healing that can build me up. It is okay for someone to make me happy, but they cannot be my only source. I cannot get angry or upset when they are not around, demanding their time or constant interactions. Those people will soon feel guilty, obligated and eventually they may even become resentful towards you because you are just “Too Much.” Neediness also stems from lack of trust. As an Adult survivor of abuse I have tremendous trust issues and fear that I am not good enough for anyone. I feel that I am always the inferior person in whatever the relationship and I then take on the needy role. I am not a weak person, and in fact many of my friends have said in some form or fashion that, “You are the strongest person I have ever met.” If I am so strong then why am I needy and appear weak? Even though I don’t want to be in denial or make any excuses regarding this, I do carry “baggage” from my less than perfect childhood. I pray my friends; family will understand that I am a work in progress that I am actively pursuing change and to relate on healthy levels of equals with those I hold dear. I am not inferior, I am not weak, and I am not in need of someone else to make me feel better about myself. An analogy I read that has really helped me in gauging my interactions with friends is viewing conversations and interactions with others as a game of Tennis. You initiate contact; you hit the ball into their court and wait for its return. You don’t start to immediately panic, thinking they don’t like you or you’re not important enough for them to respond timely back towards you, when that ball is not hit back directly. They may be very busy, have many obligations, dealing with issues themselves or because, you are bothering them too much, becoming a nuisance, an energy zapper rather than a friend! There are days when we all feel vulnerable and crave encouragement. Where we need to vent our feelings or just need someone to tell us how special and wonderful we are. There is nothing wrong with that. But if we require such affirmations continuously, then those relationships and friendships will soon crumble because people do not like to be so needed by another all the time. I know I don’t like that either and it amazes me that the very thing I really can’t stand about someone else, is within me. Starting today I am actively aware now of my tendencies and will change this destructive pattern. I am growing every day and I am thankful I have true friends who do actually care by sharing with me the truth regarding my unhealthy actions instead of just walking away or bailing on me! I am thankful for my friend who shared this with me not to hurt me but to help me be a better person and friend! I am not helpless!

Abandonment Issues...

I remember one Sunday afternoon all of my family and I piled in the car for an afternoon drive. On occasion, when my father was in a good mood and relatively stable, we would go to the local Ice Cream Parlor and get milkshakes then take a long scenic drive in the country. I look forward to them as it was usually a fun time and I Loved "Milkshakes!" Who Doesn't? On this particular day as we were driving I don't recall exactly what I said or did but my father stops the car on this desolate country road and pushes me out of the car. I immediately think to myself, "This must be a joke or something." It was no Joke! He slams the car door and then continues down the road with my family, leaving me abandoned and all alone on the side of the road. I stand there for what seems like an eternity gazing in the direction my family followed eagerly awaiting to see the car turn back around and come and rescue me. The car was nowhere in sight. I began walking back in the opposite direction as I had an idea as to where this road led. As I was walking I started to panic, tears streamed down my face, my heart was racing and my breathing out of control. I then started a slight jog and then a full blown sprint. Running as fast as my legs would carry me. I don’t recall how long I was on that side of the road, alone and frightened but I do know it was for at least a half an hour. There is a lot of panic and stress that can occur within that time frame. My mother says she pleaded for my father to turn around and so did my siblings. He would not. But eventually, after he assumed I had suffered enough he did come back for me. That scenario and the countless others I endured as a child left me feeling abandoned and not protected by those who were supposed to be my protectors. I do not blame my Mother; she was at the mercy of my father on many occasions. She tried her best to protect and care for us, but she too was a victim of sever Domestic Violence and often was fighting for her life as well. As an adult I have a fear of Abandonment and Rejection that is overwhelming most of the time. I know the emotions and thoughts and I try desperately to take every thought captive to the knowledge and obedience of Jesus Christ, but often I succumb re-creating the experience of being abandoned in my relationships. I am scared of connecting with people on any level for fear they will run away! If the relationship is of great importance to me the greater the risk and more is at stake which then leads me to act unhealthy in the relationship. I try to control them; I am hyper-vigilant for anything they do that appears as withdrawal and constantly seek reassurance that they are not going to leave me. Most people who are unfamiliar with how the effects of child abuse damage the adult with almost every area of relating in relationships, emotions, thoughts, self-esteem and will run! They see our behavior as “Weird” and “Crazy”, when all we are trying to do is ensure that they love us back, care for us and will stand by our side no matter what. I have driven many close friendships and relationships away because of these behaviors. I am learning to live in the present with my Relationships and not look into the future where fear and the unknown reside. I am learning to accept the Relationships/Friendships where they are presently are and not focus on the gamble of them leaving me. It is a hard lesson to learn and I have lost a lot of meaningful people in my life as a result of my fear of Abandonment. It is a never-ending process and one that I have yet to master. It is part of the recovery, part of self-examination. I want desperately to have people who love me in my life, but the fear and rejection is so strong that it is a constant battle. In a few select friendships, I have managed to trust by them proving they are people who will “Stick”. Those successes help me to strive again in trying to build positive Relationships. I want friends/relationships and desperately need them in my life. An amazing quote by C.S. Lewis that I used in my book sums up how I feel regarding people and friendships: “Friendship is unnecessary, like Philosophy, Like Art. It has no survival value; Rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.”

"Objects of His Affection" Excerpt from Book on Instruments used to abuse me

I once read in an online article somewhere that one single act of physical; emotional or sexual abuse on a child is enough to cause long term trauma and do permanent psychological damage. I experienced fourteen years of sustainable long term abuse from the hands; closed fists; foot; boot; stick; belt; broom; truck; gun or chunk of wood by my father. Basically anything that was readily available and at an arms distance was fair game. There is significant physical harm in the use of objects because the abuser is unaware of the force of the blow they are inflicting, as with the case of my father, the abuse can last for longer sustainable periods of time because the impact is not hurting the attacker! I had many non-accidental injuries growing up, and I often wonder why nobody ever noticed or spoke out about them. Back then there were no such things as battered women’s shelters or child protection services in our area. Domestic battering; physical, emotional and sexual abuse were taboo subjects rarely talked about. My extended family knew, his relatives and friends of mine, but nobody ever spoke out or tried to help in any way. His own parents knew! My Grandparents! When I would say to them that “Dad” was hurting us they would dismiss what I said, making some sort of excuse and brushing it off! Everyone held their peace back then. My fathers preferred method was his fists, I would often receive blow after blow and remember covering up my face with my hands as often as I could. He also loved to walk by when I was at the kitchen table either eating or doing homework and out of the blue, slap me so hard in the head or back that the force would knock me off the chair falling on to the floor. While I am lying on the ground I asked him once, “Why did you hit me? What did I do?” His reply was, “This is for all the things I didn’t catch you doing.” He had this belt that was all leather and thick. It was forty inches long, three inches wide and a quarter inch thick, it was brown and those little times that it was not in use, he rolled it up and placed it in an easy accessible location. Needless to say, when I was lucky enough just to be hit with the belt, it would leave large, deep welt marks that hurt like hell and would sting so bad that you almost passed out from the pain. After the beating it was almost impossible to try falling asleep with those welts stinging. It was impossible to take a shower for obvious reasons, when that water hit the freshly inflicted wounds it stung and when you used soap and water it was a double shot of pain and agony all over again. Not only with the initial beating did you feel the effects but days afterwards until the welts became less fresh and your every movement did not aggravate them. Imagine going to school and having to run around in gym class where your t-shirt is constantly rubbing on them or when you are playing dodge ball and another opponent hits you in the back, which is where he usually liked to whip me. The sting and constant reminder of the pain lingered long after the final assault. He also used the broom quite a bit and would not hit me with the bristle side because that would not hurt or torture me enough; it always had to be with the wooden handle side! One of his favorite games to play came when he was chasing me throughout the house. I would run down the hall as fast as I could hearing him right behind me, I would then go into my Parents bed room and slide underneath their bed. It was an antique bed with a clearance from the floor of a foot and a half. I know this fact because once I measured it to assure myself that as I got older and bigger that I would still have this option for escape. They had a king size bed so it was hard to grab me from either side once underneath and I would constantly roll from side to side away from his grasps. He would try on the ground but only his arms would fit through the opening as he was a fairly big man. He could never reach me completely so he would grab the broom or that damn belt and sling it under the bed trying to hit me. I believe this was when I developed my agility and coordination for sports because you were constantly moving from side to side to avoid contact. Those times when it became horrifying were when he would lie on top of the bed where I could not see him and then have to guess from which direction he was going to attack me from. He usually gave up and got tired because he could never get to me. That bed, Praise the Lord, was really heavy and I remember only once where he tried to picked it up from the foot to reach me, but he had to use both hands so when he did that he could only kick me. The time that he lifted the bed after being kicked in the head I ran out from under it and darted for that damn door making my escape out into the corn field. That day he was especially pissed at me for something and chased me out that door. I was a fast kid and I would fly out that door jumping off the porch and would run towards the road because it was downhill and I could run faster. If I could out run him and outlast him he usually gave up. That day he was relentless and fast on tail, cussing and screaming and I could hear his footsteps just a few strides back. This scenario happened so often in my childhood for any reason at any time of the day or night and during any kind of weather. There were only a few times that he actually caught me because I would trip and fall. That day, I tripped! This was one of the more vivid memories because he was psychotic by then with his failed attempts to get to me from underneath the bed that he just unleashed. Kicking, punching, slapping over and over; repeated blow after another until I could not move and he became too tired. After he was done this particular time I just laid there and cried and cried wishing I were dead. I could hardly move and I was exhausted from his game. That game I lost terribly that particular day. I eventually, after many years of getting hit by it, got up the nerve to get rid of the belt. I remember taking it and throwing it out somewhere by the road far away never to be found again and it was no longer in the house. My father once accused Marie and I for taking the belt and we each got a beating for that, but I know the object that day was not going to be by the big brown belt. Another object he used to inflict permanent emotional distress and absolute panic was his shot gun. When my Mother, Marie or I darted for that door and started running, sometimes the asshole was lazy and did not give chase. He would just grab the shotgun which was usually loaded by the front door and start shooting towards us. Of course your back was turned in the other direction so you only knew that you were the object of target practice when you heard the shots! I believe that is by far one of my most personal horrifying situations that I experienced as a child. A gut wrenching fear of utter helplessness and sense of death! There is no greater source for anxiety then having a gun pointed at you as he did to my mother on several occasion and me witnessing it or when you are running for your life with your back turned and hearing bullets whizzing past your ears and hitting those objects that you’re passing by. Later after he calmed down he would always say, “I wasn’t really trying to hit you, I was just shooting in your general direction.” Like that made I or anyone else feel any better about the whole fucking situation. Last but not least was his frigging truck. When the gun was not loaded and he did not feel like chasing after us because we had a substantial lead, he would just jump in his truck and try to run us down, revving his engine and only a few feet away from you! I cannot recall the countless times I would be down town and he would try to catch me and I would start running up the hill towards the house and he would be revving that damn engine again. He was only about 3 feet away from you, close enough where I could see the headlights out of the corner of my eye. I knew I could not slip or fall then, If I did he would not have the reaction time to slam on the brakes and I always feared he would run me over forcing me to run as fast I could out of fear and pure adrenaline after being utterly exhausted. I would dart left and then right, up embankments and through bushes and brush and he would be right behind me never taking me out of his sights. It was a mile run all uphill and by the time I reached a place where I could safely get out of his path where the truck could not go I would be hyper-ventilating, fall to the ground and lay there on the verge of passing out from sheer panic and exhaustion until I got my breath! A lot of these occurrences happened when he had been drinking or was drunk and in one of lunatic moods where he had no perception as to how close he was or how fast he was pushing you to run and I no reaction time if I had slipped and fallen. As I laid on the ground, I would be relieved that I had survived another one of his games, but I would cry out of panic and fear, and be so very alone, helpless to change my life. These are the games I played with my Father while growing up. “Wanna play?”