Surviving Abusive Relationships- Prologue and Part One

cloudy sky above tree

As promised, today I will begin to share sections of my book.  I will continue to add segments daily until the entire book is here for everyone to read.  It is my hopes that posting Surviving Abusive Relationships here will help others to get through similar situations.  I am not a professional therapist and this in no way includes any advice- medical, psychological, or otherwise.  I just hope that my experiences will help others to cope with their situations and enable them to find a healthy way to work through them.

Prologue

It was not easy for me to write this.  There were some rough moments.  There were moments when I thought I was going to cry.  At one point, I had to take a break for a few days because I knew I just couldn’t write anymore at the moment.  I had some nightmares.  There were stressful moments when I wasn’t quite sure how to write the next thought.  One of my biggest concerns was that writing this would trigger more memories.  Fortunately, that did not happen.

I was determined to finish though because I am hoping my experiences and insight will help others trudge through their own journeys of recovery.  I want to prepare you, however, that reading this may trigger memories or anxiety for you.  Working through issues such as this require a lot of strength, support, and determination. 

Be brave and don’t give up.  The only way to make it through this journey in one piece is to take one step at a time.  Find someone who will hold your hand and walk through the fire with you.  If the first—or the second—person you approach is not up to the task, keep seeking until you find that person.  They are there, and you will need the support.  And remember—life is an adventure, live it to the full.

Living a Life of Denial

I drank my first beer when I was twelve years old.  It was a Michelob and I really liked it.  I liked the way it tasted—and I soon found out that the more I drank the better I felt.  First, I would feel like I was floating.  After a while, all of my problems disappeared.  As long as I had a drink in my hand, all was good.  What I did not realize at the time was I was creating a more complicated situation that I would have to unravel later.

My beer of choice soon changed to Budweiser, and I soon graduated to stronger alcohol.  I was introduced to Vodka and enjoyed that greatly—until I discovered Rum.  Budweiser and Rum soon became my main go-tos, although I would drink basically anything alcoholic if my favorites were unavailable.  I recall one occasion when I drank Mad Dog 20/20 mixed in Kool-Aid with my pal because we could not afford anything else.  It tasted good and had the desired results, so I was cool with it.  Hey, don’t judge—I was only around 14 and didn’t have a developed sense of discretion yet.

I continued to drink heavily through my teenage years.  I really don’t know how I made it through high school.  As the years passed, I spent less and less time at home and more and more time intoxicated.  I never got a hangover, which didn’t help matters.  I truly believe that if I had experienced some of the more negative aspects of drinking I would have avoided alcohol.  I have never liked feeling sick.

Not only was I developing the bad habit of drinking way too much, but I was also learning how to hide it.  My drinking pal taught me the many ways of concealing my drink when outside visitors showed up.  She also made sure sufficient amount of time passed between my last drink and returning home—which was becoming more and more rare.  I learned how to mask my inebriation and even fooled a police officer once.  That was a scary situation.  I was sure I was caught.  To this day, I don’t know how that officer missed smelling the alcohol on my breath.  On that particular occasion, my friend was arrested and her mom had to take me home.

My journey down disaster lane continued to escalate.  The only thing that diverted it was the fact that I got pregnant when I was 18.  I remember shortly after I became pregnant, my mom, my fiancé, and I sat down to drink a couple of beers.  I got half way through first one and couldn’t drink anymore.  I know doctors say it is okay for pregnant women to drink a moderate amount of alcohol, but my conscience was completely beating me up.  I did not drink another drop of alcohol for the rest of my pregnancy. 

A few months after my daughter was born, I resumed drinking.  My imbibing was not as drastic as it had been in the past, but at times I went a little overboard.  I always drank at home and I never caused any trouble, still I was causing serious problems for myself that I would not become aware of for years to come.  So, why am I telling you all of this?

Tomorrow, I will add another portion of the book I wrote.  I hope you come back to read part two.


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