So my marriage collapsed last year. Which brings with it a degree of self reflection. A huge amount to be honest. I have struggled for years and blamed it on feeling stressed, tiredness, depression, being pregnant, having a baby, hormones. Always trying to pretend it had nothing to do with absolute mess I spent my childhood in, something I had buried years ago.
But sadly I can now see. I constantly crave reassurance, while refusing to accept praise. I take on the responsibility for the mood of others. Always the negative, never the positive. So if my husband was slightly quiet or a bit moody, I was see that as my fault and my responsibility. I constantly think people are angry with me, or hate me. I panic at intimacy. Particularly if I feel I will dissapoint him if I don't feel up to doing the deed. Which means I back off entirely with no real explanation. I fear anger and rage, conflict of any kind I avoid. I react fiercely to the strangest things. I can't deal with stress or sudden upheaval. I have low self esteem. I'm an absolute bloody mess and a nightmare to live with.
When I was very young my parents were both alcoholics. I remember not really understanding at that age, the insane highs and the terrifying lows. The fights, shouting, violence, drunken dancing to ABBA.
Later my Dad gave up and either enabled my Mum, or had a fit of conscience, where he would empty all her home brew down the drain, and she would hit him round the head.
Dad took jobs away from home, so generally me and my little sister dealt with Mum on our own. Often she would pass out on the sofa and we would have to try and get her to bed, because she had a shift in the morning. She would be verbally abusive. Or she would then put her TV on so loud that we couldn't sleep, and had to creep in at 2 in the morning to turn it off.
Sometimes we had to sober her up after school before Dad came home on a Friday otherwise he would go ballistic.
I knew our neighbours hated us. Some of the parents of other children even pitied us I suppose. But my Dad was in a job where if any of this was found out, or the police got involved, he'd be sacked.
I remember the split lips Mum had, Dad's broken glasses. I remember once screaming at him, because I thought he'd killed her. Sometimes he had knocked her out, sometime she would play at it. Both terrified the shit out of me.
I hated the weekends. They were times of conflict, and booze. We never went anywhere other than pubs. I feared Friday, because Dad pandered to Mum to keep her happy, so any small misdemeanours in the week would be bought up when he came home and he'd shout at us.
I remember finding out about his affairs, and trying to keep the peace by hiding it from Mum. She realised I knew, and made me say on him. I was piggy in the middle on a hideous scale.
To vent the anger they couldn't vent on each other, we ended up getting it.
I remember filling the booze bottle with water, after we'd tipped it away, or putting the hidden ones in her room in the bin.
I remember fearing that slur and slackened face, when we returned from home after school. Knowing it was going to be a horrid evening.
And now my life is an utter fucking mess. Oddly I'm pretty successful. I have a decent Civil Service middle management job. But I think its really hit me what a mental mess I am. I still love my husband. But honestly I'm a complete mess. And I have no idea what to do about it. Finances are tight. I've tried counselling before and I really don't think it did much so I'm loathed to throw money I don't have at it.
How can I help myself? How do I break this cycle of shit?