My uncle, my mother's younger brother, has had a LOT of issues with drugs and alcohol in his life. He's an addict and always will be. People have told me that my father was an alcoholic and I have no proof otherwise since he died when I was so young. So perhaps it makes sense to assume that I have an addictive personality and that I'm out of control, but the funny thing is that I, the one everyone pegged to have a drug problem and a terrible life, have turned out so well.
My mother assumed I was an alcoholic when I was in my early twenties. It was the summer before my bi polar diagnosis and I was drinking heavily because I knew there was something wrong with me and I needed my mother but I'd always been afraid of her (she didn't beat me or anything like that and I have no idea why I was afraid of her but I was). In reality, I was drinking heavily to obliterate my mind so that I could take a break from the suicidal thoughts and the fear that I would always be fucked up. I ended up going to a psychiatrist on campus and attending group therapy, something that I truly credit with saving my life.
I started again over the last year or so, drinking heavily to avoid the truth because I was afraid of talking to J. I knew I was unhappy and instead of doing the healthy thing of thinking about it and figuring out what I needed and talking to him, I drank a LOT. It might be a surprise to some people who know me in real life, given my personality, but I was scared of J as well. Again, there was no abuse of any kind, not physical or emotional. But I just feared his judgment and, I assume, feared he wouldn't love me if I complained in any way.
But I've been lonely and unhappy for a number of years since moving to Ohio. J has been busy and it was made clear early on that he would be unavailable for a long time because work came first. So to drink and obliterate my feelings made sense. No, it wasn't right or healthy. God it wasn't healthy or smart! But I could have eaten my feelings away and probably J would have had different thoughts.
As it is, he just says "I can't take your drinking." He never asked me about it, why I did it, what I hoped to gain from it. He just assumed that I was an alcoholic, like my mother, and that that was the issue. He never thought to talk to me about it just like he never thought to ask me about the sex issue.
I lost interest awhile ago and instead of sitting me down after a few months and talking to me, he just thought "fuck her, I just won't make a move and I'll force her to make one." When I didn't, he assumed, at first, that I was fucking someone else. Then he didn't know what to think but he certainly didn't think to ask me about it. The truth is, as I know now, that I felt we didn't have an intimate emotional connection so I couldn't connect intimately physically. But instead of talking to me or asking me about my actions, he made assumptions and targeted me with his anger and frustration.
I do understand that, in retrospect. What else was he to think? But what I'm realizing now is that I need a partner who is there with me and for me, who makes me priority number one on the list. I need someone to notice a change in my behavior, like drinking more often, and ask me "hey, what's going on?" Someone to say "we aren't having sex and I wonder if there is something behind that."
J doesn't do that for me and never has. I've told him the above but so far I've just heard "I can't take your drinking" and "now I know your MS may have fucked with your libido." As much as I thought he was listening, he really didn't hear me.
And I wonder if he can. It is not, at all, that he is a bad guy. When I met him, he'd finally started taking care of himself and putting himself first after a lifetime of a bad family situation and his own problems. It was wonderful at first and I have always been happy to put him first because he's wonderful and lovely and I need to make sure he is taken care of. But somewhere along the line, I've taken a back seat and it has been accepted that not only am I not number one, but I have to bring up any issue I have or else it will go unnoticed and, if he doesn't understand or agree with me, it is my fault and probably either because I'm drinking, I'm bipolar, or I'm me.
The first time he's ever shown a true concern without being prompted has been recently and with regards to my MS. It took a lifelong and chronic disease for him to say "please let me know how your are and anything that happens with this." Before, he might realize I was upset and I'd tell him and he'd just say "I'm sorry, Kitty." That was it. No suggestions of getting help or reaching out to friend. No asking if maybe it was this or that.
I could have communicated better and as much as I like to think I don't play games or make people guess, maybe I was hoping he'd step up. But he didn't and I always have. Always.
So I've begun to wonder, regardless of how much I love him and how much I care, how willingly I'd hurt someone who hurt him, if we will be OK. Because I need to be important to the man I'm with. And I need to be important to me.
PS: For the record, there are things I feel an addiction to and they are embarrassing. The one that I feel a physical draw to is diet soda. This is something I try to give up but after a week, I start fiending for it and feel like I "need" it. The other is cheese. I don't mean just simply on food or in food but by itself, string cheese or a block of cheese to cut up and put on toast. This is something I don't know that I have a physical draw to but maybe only because I have not given it up for long enough. But I fucking LOVE me some cheese.
My mother assumed I was an alcoholic when I was in my early twenties. It was the summer before my bi polar diagnosis and I was drinking heavily because I knew there was something wrong with me and I needed my mother but I'd always been afraid of her (she didn't beat me or anything like that and I have no idea why I was afraid of her but I was). In reality, I was drinking heavily to obliterate my mind so that I could take a break from the suicidal thoughts and the fear that I would always be fucked up. I ended up going to a psychiatrist on campus and attending group therapy, something that I truly credit with saving my life.
I started again over the last year or so, drinking heavily to avoid the truth because I was afraid of talking to J. I knew I was unhappy and instead of doing the healthy thing of thinking about it and figuring out what I needed and talking to him, I drank a LOT. It might be a surprise to some people who know me in real life, given my personality, but I was scared of J as well. Again, there was no abuse of any kind, not physical or emotional. But I just feared his judgment and, I assume, feared he wouldn't love me if I complained in any way.
But I've been lonely and unhappy for a number of years since moving to Ohio. J has been busy and it was made clear early on that he would be unavailable for a long time because work came first. So to drink and obliterate my feelings made sense. No, it wasn't right or healthy. God it wasn't healthy or smart! But I could have eaten my feelings away and probably J would have had different thoughts.
As it is, he just says "I can't take your drinking." He never asked me about it, why I did it, what I hoped to gain from it. He just assumed that I was an alcoholic, like my mother, and that that was the issue. He never thought to talk to me about it just like he never thought to ask me about the sex issue.
I lost interest awhile ago and instead of sitting me down after a few months and talking to me, he just thought "fuck her, I just won't make a move and I'll force her to make one." When I didn't, he assumed, at first, that I was fucking someone else. Then he didn't know what to think but he certainly didn't think to ask me about it. The truth is, as I know now, that I felt we didn't have an intimate emotional connection so I couldn't connect intimately physically. But instead of talking to me or asking me about my actions, he made assumptions and targeted me with his anger and frustration.
I do understand that, in retrospect. What else was he to think? But what I'm realizing now is that I need a partner who is there with me and for me, who makes me priority number one on the list. I need someone to notice a change in my behavior, like drinking more often, and ask me "hey, what's going on?" Someone to say "we aren't having sex and I wonder if there is something behind that."
J doesn't do that for me and never has. I've told him the above but so far I've just heard "I can't take your drinking" and "now I know your MS may have fucked with your libido." As much as I thought he was listening, he really didn't hear me.
And I wonder if he can. It is not, at all, that he is a bad guy. When I met him, he'd finally started taking care of himself and putting himself first after a lifetime of a bad family situation and his own problems. It was wonderful at first and I have always been happy to put him first because he's wonderful and lovely and I need to make sure he is taken care of. But somewhere along the line, I've taken a back seat and it has been accepted that not only am I not number one, but I have to bring up any issue I have or else it will go unnoticed and, if he doesn't understand or agree with me, it is my fault and probably either because I'm drinking, I'm bipolar, or I'm me.
The first time he's ever shown a true concern without being prompted has been recently and with regards to my MS. It took a lifelong and chronic disease for him to say "please let me know how your are and anything that happens with this." Before, he might realize I was upset and I'd tell him and he'd just say "I'm sorry, Kitty." That was it. No suggestions of getting help or reaching out to friend. No asking if maybe it was this or that.
I could have communicated better and as much as I like to think I don't play games or make people guess, maybe I was hoping he'd step up. But he didn't and I always have. Always.
So I've begun to wonder, regardless of how much I love him and how much I care, how willingly I'd hurt someone who hurt him, if we will be OK. Because I need to be important to the man I'm with. And I need to be important to me.
PS: For the record, there are things I feel an addiction to and they are embarrassing. The one that I feel a physical draw to is diet soda. This is something I try to give up but after a week, I start fiending for it and feel like I "need" it. The other is cheese. I don't mean just simply on food or in food but by itself, string cheese or a block of cheese to cut up and put on toast. This is something I don't know that I have a physical draw to but maybe only because I have not given it up for long enough. But I fucking LOVE me some cheese.
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