A Healing Journey by neverstaybroken

007 – Say What You Need to Say (WordPress Writing Prompt)

December 14th, 2023

Daily writing prompt

Tell us one thing you hope people say about you.

I have an answer for today’s writing prompt, but it isn’t the one I expected.

”Tell us one thing you hope people say about you.”

Growing up, people said a lot of things about me. Much of it was behind my back. I was a shy, awkward child who belonged to one of those offshoot, crackpot religions. You know, the ones that like to knock on your front door or try to stop you on the sidewalk. I was never comfortable with my religion, but I was a child and I was stuck.

My father was abusive, to say the least. Between him and my religion, I was programmed fairly well. Help them. Serve them. Conform to them. I wasn’t supposed to think for myself. My father and my religion told me what to do.

Throughout my process of growing from child to man-child, I learned much about how to keep others happy. I measured most of my self worth by the feedback and acceptance of others, particularly those people I valued.

I did this to the point where I couldn’t really tell who I was anymore. I had no idea where I was at in life, or what I actually wanted. I was without direction. I was unable to love myself.

I cared WAY too much about what other people said about me.

It went beyond that, still. I cared what they thought. I played tapes in my head of what I thought they thought. Quick, casual interactions with strangers would turn into huge events in my head, and soon I would know, without any shred of doubt, that this person (or that person) thought I was a creep because I said hi weird.

Then of course I discovered alcohol, and for years I did my best to drown it all out*.

That worked until it didn’t. But I kept doing it. I did it because it was what I knew. I did it until someone finally came into my life who was patient enough to show me there was something better, and that I was good enough to have it.

Or maybe I was simply ready to listen, and she just happened to walk into my life at the right time. I suspect the real answer doesn’t matter so much as the healing itself.

Part of my healing process is learning to put less of my self worth on what people think or say about me. It involves getting back in touch with myself, listening to myself, and above all learning to love myself.

What do I hope you say about me? Not a damn thing. I just hope you can read my words and be inspired.

* Please read 002 – I’m a Survivor, I’m Gonna Make It (And So Are You) for more on substance abuse.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

006 – I’m Moving to Japan (Poem)

December 2nd, 2023

I decided I’m going to
Sell all of my belongings
And move to Japan

So I can live in
One of those
Micro-apartments
That they show on YouTube

Where the kitchens are so small
They can barely hold
A hot plate
And a mini fridge

And the bed is
Little more than
A cupboard with a ladder

What a joy it would be
To stand on my
Two-foot wide balcony
Watching the traffic alone
Because there isn’t enough room
For a visitor

Oh, the peace I would have
In my tiny shower stall
By myself with
My one bar of soap
And my bottle of shampoo
Knowing there was no one
Waiting for me
To hurry up and finish

I would cook simple meals
Of veggies and noodles
And I would have fish on Friday nights

I would sit
In front of my only TV tray
And watch what I wanted

And when the smell of
Warm supper
Wafted through the building
No knock would come to the door
Because truly,
Nobody would care to join me

And when the steady thrum
Of outside noise
Became too much

And the demons from my past
Came a tap tap tapping

I would crawl into my cupboard,
Close the door
And cover my head

Because there is no room
In my Japanese micro-apartment
For anxiety and sorrow

Image by Masashi Wakui from Pixabay

005 – Why I Deleted My Earning App After Three Years

October 10th, 2023

I have an app on my phone that pays me to walk. I’ve made almost $200 using it. Here’s why I’ve chosen to delete it:

I’ve been using the app for over 3 years. It also pays me to play games, and watch a few ads every day. It even has a scratch off lottery where I can win coins (usually one, but they can pay up to a thousand at a time).

Once I earn enough coins, I can exchange them for any of dozens of gift cards, including Amazon.

But, I’ve realized it’s holding me back. So I’ve decided to remove it.

Most of these activities pay just a small handful of coins, even if I grind. 200 coins a day for walking. 25 for watching ads. Generally 1 coin per scratch off. And the games have this neat little trick where they slowly pay you less and less the more you play. There is a limit on every activity.

Sure, it’s a fun little app, but I often find myself getting hyper-focused on it. I want to get 20,000 steps a day, scratch all my lotto tickets, watch all the ads, and play some games. I get a nice little endorphin boost each time I earn a gift card. Plus, it’s good to set goals.

Right?

What started off as a fun little way to earn gift cards eventually became a chore. It turned into something I had to do every day. If I didn’t, I felt guilty for not achieving my daily goals.

But what about my other daily goals?

I can’t write while I’m walking. If I’m playing scratch offs, I can’t work on my books. And I’d be hard pressed to make an Instagram post if I’m grinding Match Masters for 64 coins in 1 minute, (then 2 minutes, then 3 minutes. Do you see their trick?).

Every time we choose what to do with the time we have, it comes at the expense of something else.

Do you get your steps or write?

Do you watch ads or clean the house?

Do you play a mobile game or visit family?

It can be argued that one can do both at the same time. But in doing so, are you truly vested in either?

Granted, sometimes you need a break, and playing a mindless mobile game while droning Harry Potter and flicking Frito crumbs off your chest is exactly what you need to do. You deserve to be happy, and you should do what makes you happy. Within reason, of course.

I’m choosing to do what makes me happy. As time goes on, I’m learning how to discard the rest.

Today, it’s a mobile app.

But who knows what tomorrow holds?

Have you ever given up something because it was holding you back? Let us know in the comments.

Image by Pete Linforth

004 – Resilience and Liberation: Escaping a Childhood Cult’s Influence and Embracing Self-Acceptance

September 20th, 2023

I was raised in a cult.

At the time, I didn’t know that’s what it was. I knew I was different. I felt abnormal. And I accepted it. My life was my life, and that’s just the way it was supposed to be.

I was taught to listen and follow. From a very young age, my entire sense of self worth was measured by the approval of my religion and my parents. And if they weren’t happy with me, then I wasn’t happy with me. I needed to do better.

My religion didn’t celebrate holidays. They were considered worldly. Because of this, I wasn’t allowed to attend birthday parties or sing Christmas songs in choir. If another child in my class brought cupcakes for their birthday, I would sit at my desk quietly. I tried to ignore the curious stares of the other children as they ate.

I knew I was different, and they knew it, too.

In choir, the music teacher would have all the kids stand on a small set of bleachers. She would stand in front of them and conduct. She put me in a chair behind her, near the center of the room, where I sat quietly. This happened for a few weeks every year. Sometimes she let me go to the library. Sometimes she made me sit.

The other children watched me the entire time, trying to understand why I wasn’t practicing Christmas songs with them. Maybe the music teacher didn’t notice. Maybe she didn’t care.

I knew I was different, and they knew it, too.

I was different at home, too. My father made sure I knew who his favorite child was. And it wasn’t me. After my parents divorced, he built my brother a bedroom in his new house. I had to sleep in the camper out back. Some weekends I didn’t get to go over at all. My brother did, but I didn’t.

The rest of my father’s new family got to sleep inside, but I didn’t. My childhood was spent being separated from others.

I knew I was different, and they knew it, too.

I internalized these feelings of being different at a very young age. Over time, I began to revel in them. On the surface, anyway.

Fast forward to adulthood, and I’m still trying to belong. I’m still learning to allow myself to be loved.

It’s difficult and scary to say the least. I’m learning I don’t have to belong. If I am true to myself, then the right people will accept me. I don’t need to fight for anyone’s approval.

And that is such a liberating feeling.

I am no longer in the cult, but the psychological effects are still very much prevalent in my life. I struggle with codependency. If Kim changes plans, I wonder what I did wrong. If we go more than a day without talking, I begin to worry she might leave me.

Sometimes I give too much of myself. I ignore my writing because I need her to know I’m there for her. I ignore my family and friends because I need her to validate my worth. And I have trouble allowing myself to believe my wants and needs are valid, and not just selfish. I try to accomplish so much, I become overwhelmed and burned out. Then I feel like a failure when I’m truly an amazing human being.

I am not a failure. As long as I get back up and keep moving forward.

And every day, I’m getting better. I’m not there yet, but I’m getting better.

I’m not going to be relegated to anyone’s camper anymore. I’m learning to accept myself and be happy. I will sing whatever songs I want.

And if I want a birthday cupcake, I’m eating the damn cupcake.

What is something you have had to overcome? Let us know at the bottom of the page.

Image by Goran Horvat from Pixabay

003 – Understanding the Symptoms: Healing from Childhood Trauma

July 30th, 2023

You are allowed to heal.

My fear, and a desire for control, are the symptoms of my drinking disease. A disease that was brought on by consistent, constant, and repetitive childhood trauma. Which was a symptom of my dad’s disease, and the collective spiritual sickness of a whole group of people.

The things my father did to me are not my fault. Just like the things his father did to him are not my father’s fault. However, this understanding doesn’t make the trauma, and its resulting symptoms, any less real.

Focusing on the symptoms is like focusing on the smoke when you have a grease fire in your kitchen. The smoke is merely a symptom of the actual problem. The trauma. Sure, you can open a window. Maybe set up a fan. But is that REALLY what you’re going to do?

No! You’re going to turn off the stove and pour baking soda on the pan. But not water. Water will only make it worse.

I didn’t know how to deal with the problem, so I instead focused on my symptoms.

When we focus on our symptoms, we often end up making the actual problem even worse. I chose to ignore my fire and drown out the smoke. Unsurprisingly, I made it worse.

Throughout my drinking career, I neglected my health, my finances, and my responsibilities. I put liquor before my loved ones. All of this out of fear. Fear of abandonment. Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. And a whole fat list of other fears. I constantly felt guilt and shame, because I wasn’t able to live life like a normal, responsible human being.

Well to hell with normal. I’m healing. And I am ALLOWED to heal.

I am tired of dealing with the smoke. It’s high time I started dealing with the fire.

But what exactly IS this fire I’m supposed to be dealing with? For me, it starts with identifying what happened to me and accepting it. This doesn’t mean AGREEING with it. Far from it.

“This is the thing that happened. This is how it made me feel. It wasn’t my fault. And I am allowed to heal.”

You are ALLOWED to heal.

I am not ashamed to be in therapy and sobriety. Quite the opposite. I am proud. And I will talk about it openly.

So I invite you to pack up all your mental baggage, lay it out neatly for everyone to see, and burn it to ash.

YOU. ARE. ALLOWED. TO. HEAL.

Are you healing? Share your experience with us at the bottom of the page.

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

002 – Healing and Happiness: A Personal Journey of Recovery and Understanding

July 23rd, 2023

You deserve healing. You deserve to be loved. And you deserve to be happy.

For some, those words can be incredibly difficult to hear, and nearly impossible to believe.

I used to struggle heavily with drinking. I drank daily. Even when I began to make an honest effort, I struggled. Over time, I began to notice the signs that I was about to drink. I never understood the reasons behind those signs, but I recognized them nonetheless.

There were days when I gave as much of myself to others as I could. I would be more outgoing at work. My customer service was phenomenal. I was there for my friends and family. I gave absolutely anything I thought they needed, and offered even more that they never asked for.

When I was in this mode on my days off, I would come home and deep clean. Dishes, walls, floors, the toilet. I was a machine. Sometimes I would spend hours rearranging the furniture, or placing new decorations I had purchased.

Then I would sit on my clean floor with nothing to do. I had distracted myself, but I hadn’t actually dealt with anything. Almost inevitably, I would drink. Even though I didn’t actually want to. And I couldn’t understand why.

I considered the possibility I was “rewarding” myself for a job well done. Something about that conclusion never quite felt right, but I couldn’t come up with anything else. It took four months of sobriety and therapy for me to figure it out.

I’m sharing this with you because I don’t want you to go through the same struggle of realization that I did.

Alcohol wasn’t a reward for taking care of others and cleaning my house. Taking care of others and cleaning my house was a substitute for processing a trigger.

Something, somewhere along the line had happened to me in the days or weeks leading up to drinking. And although I recognized the signs, I could never understand them. I didn’t know how to PROCESS them. But I did know how to take care of others and clean. So I did that instead.

The things my father did to me as a child aren’t my fault. They were never my fault. His actions were the symptoms of a sick man, who himself did not know how to process.

What his father did to him isn’t his fault either. Those actions were the symptoms of another sick man who didn’t know how to process.

I’m learning how to process and understand. It’s been a tough road, sometimes joyous, sometimes tragic.

But it has been FULFILLING.

There are times it feels like I’m walking through a pitch black forest alone. There are threats all around, waiting to pounce on me the moment I take one step off the path.

But they can’t get me. Not as long as I stay on my path.

There ARE patches of light, however. Beacons in the blackness to guide me. In the form of compassionate friends, sympathetic family, and professionals who can truly understand.

I am learning to use my light.

And for the first time in my life, I’m excited to see where it takes me.

I deserve healing. I deserve to be loved. And I deserve to be happy. I have the right to be okay. And so do you.

Do you have a recovery story? Let us know at the bottom of the page.

Image by Piyapong Saydaung from Pixabay

001 – Rain, Reflection, and Recovery

July 4th, 2023

I have trouble believing anybody will want to read anything I write.

I’ve been like this most of my life. I feel like I’m not good enough. I’m uninteresting. Awkward. Ordinary.

Disposable.

And yet here I am, writing. Over analyzing every word wondering if they’re going to make any difference from one to the next. I just came in from the rain. I’m sitting at the computer, air drying in the nude and processing my life.

My girlfriend-who-isn’t-my-girlfriend-anymore-but-one-day-might-be-again, expressed surprise when I told her I might not go to the Cheyenne fireworks show with her and her daughter if it rained. This is a surprise for two reasons:

First, I love the rain. I love the way it washes over me. Cold and pelting drops cascading down my face and chest, making me shudder and gasp. It’s a healing experience, but I’ve never been afraid to stand outside in front of God and everybody and look like a sopping wet weirdo.

But today, I wasn’t feeling it. That is, not until I looked out the window and saw sheets of rain rolling across the parking lot. Suddenly I needed it.

Now I’m naked, cold, and wet, and I don’t regret it.

Second, when Kim and I were dating, I often forsook my well-being. I also neglected the well-being of my loved ones for her. I would give up the things I cared about because I thought I wasn’t good enough. I needed to remind her that I was there for her. And if I didn’t prove myself constantly, she would realize she could do better and leave.

She always told me the opposite of this, of course. But I couldn’t hear it.

Until she left.

It took a while, several weeks, but something had been planted in my brain. A tiny seed of understanding that is only now beginning to sprout. I hear them whispering in the wind, almost silent.

But not quite silent.

“You are lovable.”

“You deserve forgiveness.”

“You are good enough.”

Through therapy and sobriety, I am learning to believe these things. It’s a tough journey, but somehow her and I are still making it. Separately when we need to. Together when it’s appropriate.

Is it as friends? As a couple? That, I don’t know. And truthfully, I don’t care. I’ve realized it doesn’t make a difference.

What matters is the journey. Regardless of the rain.

What are some positive changes you have made in your life recently?

Image by nini kvaratskhelia from Pixabay