WolfieKate
10-09-12, 15:15
Where do I start... I am 43 and I have 2 young kids at school. They just went back today into Yr 1 and 2.
My life seems to have been one big mess and I do not know where to turn next for help. You don't have to read all this. I just want to write it down once.
I was born into a dysfunctional family in 1969. And I was a bit odd too. As a child my mother took me to the doctors numerous times. I would not hug her and was withdrawn. I used to have fits and they diagnosed me with epilepsy but that one Dr said no a "weak nervous system" and I was given malt extract to build my nervous system up. I soon discovered alcohol and by 8 was totally hooked on the stuff. I used to top up my small port or gin bottle from the drinks cabinet and my parents gave me alcohol when ever I wanted it really as they subscribed to continental view that children should be introduced to drink young. I have been an alcoholic ever since.
When I was 9 my mother finally gave in, she hated being a parent and wife and thus disappeared, she ran off with babysitter leaving me in hands of depressed, narcissistic, aspergers, victorian father. My Mum's Dad killed himself with an overdose in 1976 and I think she was traumatised. So for 9 years I think I just went to school and read sci fi books. I started to comfort eat and as a teenager I blew up like a balloon. My father was a fat nazi and told me I looked "as fat as a pig". My self esteem was through the floor any how as he was impossible to please and quite nasty. I think I had an idolised picture of him as a child as he was the only parent I had and I always tried to make him happy as he was so miserable. He made life very unpleasant really, food was something I got for myself and he didn't like being a parent. When the washing machine broke he refused to replace it and we washed all our stuff in buckets or the bath. Life from 9-18 was making my dad feel OK or avoiding him. He did not like us contacting our mother and was foul if she rang so she rarely did. We all walked on eggshells around him. Narcissistic critical man.
So I went off to University and by March 1988 I was in hospital with anorexia. I dieted so I wasn't fat but I couldn't stop. I weighed 4.5 stone. I spent a week in hospital but in those days they didn't have a clue so once I said I would start eating they let me go. My mother magically reappeared to get me back to university and through my degree by feeding me alcohol as she thought that would make me eat. I developed bulimia and my weight tripled in a year as I ate anything that moved even off the floor or stolen. Binge eating became my way of life. Eating till I vomited as so full. I hurt my tummy so badly I remember once being so sick that all that came up was yellow bile. I wasn't even making myself sick, I was eating till I couldn't eat anymore and then it would often come up.
At 22 I went to London for my first job. I started running to keep the weight off and developed compulsive exercise disorder so I used to go home at night alone to my bedsit, drink 2 bottles of cheap wine, get up at 5am, run for ten to fifteen miles, home go to work. And all the time I was eating abnormally.
I came to Bristol in 1995 as my Mum lived here and I got a job. The exercise, drinking, binge eating carried on until I was 31 when my knees gave out, I couldn't walk and I threw myself on the mercy of my GP and said I needed help. She was great - I got CBT for the bulimia and prozac for the ocd. A dietician saw me. I looked as if I had got better. The exercising and food controlling stopped.
My mother meanwhile had replaced my own brain functions with her own. She made all my decisions - how to have my haircut, what to wear, what house to buy, who to go out with. She micro-managed my life and became what a counsellor called an auxilliary ego. As I had no self esteem or decision making capacity of my own, my mother replaced them by being them.
During all this time I had bad relationships. I usually found myself with abusive controlling men often married who used me as I was so eager to please. Bit like replaying my life with my dad over and over. I was always rejected at the end and I drank and drank. My mother was there to prop me up and tell me what to do. I was a high functioning alcoholic and my career did fine and my mother was happy. How I felt was never relevant to either of my parents.
I finally met a man who has been a life saver for me and I have been with him for 11 years but goodness knows how he puts up with it all. I was tired of being a worker all the time and the drinking was taking its toll so I had to think of a way of leaving work that my mother would agree with. So I said I would start a family. So I had my first child in 2005 to please my mother in order to leave work with her approval. I had my second child as I wanted plastic surgery and my surgeon wanted me to finish my family first so my second child arrived in 2007 to please my surgeon. I had 6 operations and she was of the opinion that I have body dysmorphic disorder.
In 2008 my family emotionally clubbed together and forced me into buying a flat for my dad round the corner from me so I could care for him. Mum was ten mins away down the hill. I had a total breakdown, sold the flat and no one in my family now speaks to me. My father calls me despicable and describes my imaginary mental issues as "pseudo". I cut him off totally as I do not know what else to do, he terrifies me and I would rather not know him. And my brother disowns me. I row with Mum and I do not speak to her for 6 months. And she does not speak to me. I am left with no family caring for 2 tiny kids. I sneak off and get married as an act of defiance and I am very glad to ditch the family name.
Mum comes round with a white flag and we get back together but something isn't right, she losing lots of weight. A year before in 2007 a gynae cancer consultant tells her she just has an ageing bowel. In October 2008 we find out it was actually ovarian cancer. 10 days later she dies horribly in my arms at the local hospital and I am completely traumatised. Her death disturbs me a lot and I have flashbacks. I can not live or function without her and I had to watch cancer destroy her. 4 years on and I still can not live without her. Controlling and manipulative, my counsellor tells me my Mum probably had borderline personality disorder.
I see a counsellor as not getting over Mum's death. Still drinking. She goes through my life with me and confirms all the above. But she keeps telling me I am smart and will go somewhere great and I keep thinking that Mum would have wanted me to go back to work. My counsellor gets me off the booze and I look for work as my youngest starts school.
Six months later and here I am burnt out again. I moved my addiction from alcohol to online valium and as the job takes it's toll on my home life I take more valium. One night I take way too much and realising what an addict I have become I flush the rest away but with nothing to rely on the next day I drink a bottle of gin till I am sick and sit in bed trying to cut my wrist. The next day my husband tells me to get help or move out.
So here I am. 2 weeks on. Kids at school and I can scarcely function to go out the front door. Wondering what the F happened for me to deserve the life I got and how bad does it have to get for someone anyone to want to help. I went to A and E and saw psychiatric nurse and alcohol nurse and everyone is basically treating my issues as an addiction issue. So I go to a booze group on a wednesday night thinking my issues are bigger than this. I saw my GP and on top of my 15 years prozac I am now taking pregabalin but it's not really helping. I am so depressed I wonder what on earth I am doing here. What purpose do I serve? My poor kids were conceived to please other people and I think my eldest has NPD or aspergers but my husband won't have him assessed as he thinks I am already too much in "the system". I love my kids but I hate the life it has given us. We have no help and no family near and I have no friends so it's just us four and me and my husband are exhausted.
So I sit in bed, zonked out on pregablin and depressed. Full of existential angst and wishing someone would just swoop in and take over and take care of me but no one will. My scars are healing and I wish they had been worse so maybe the psychiatric team would have been more interested instead of handing me back over to my GP. I wish my GP was more interested but she can only give me pills and suggest I do a parenting course. I could scream inside as I flounder through each day with no purpose.
I am thinking of seeing a private psychiatrist as my life has zero meaning now. I exist but I have no role. I do not enjoy being a mother while at the same time loving my two kids. Without my Mum my brain is inadequate. I am scared of dying but also wonder if it will reunite me with the one person I loved the most. Did I love her or just the fact she was in charge. I no longer know.
That is my life. I am scared that one day I will really hurt myself because I drink too much or sober I can not take it anymore. I have few friends and those I have live too far to meet. I am all alone and floundering.
So I see my GP on friday and review the pregabalin and "how I am doing" and all I can think is look at my life lady! How do you think I am doing! :shades:
Story over. x
My life seems to have been one big mess and I do not know where to turn next for help. You don't have to read all this. I just want to write it down once.
I was born into a dysfunctional family in 1969. And I was a bit odd too. As a child my mother took me to the doctors numerous times. I would not hug her and was withdrawn. I used to have fits and they diagnosed me with epilepsy but that one Dr said no a "weak nervous system" and I was given malt extract to build my nervous system up. I soon discovered alcohol and by 8 was totally hooked on the stuff. I used to top up my small port or gin bottle from the drinks cabinet and my parents gave me alcohol when ever I wanted it really as they subscribed to continental view that children should be introduced to drink young. I have been an alcoholic ever since.
When I was 9 my mother finally gave in, she hated being a parent and wife and thus disappeared, she ran off with babysitter leaving me in hands of depressed, narcissistic, aspergers, victorian father. My Mum's Dad killed himself with an overdose in 1976 and I think she was traumatised. So for 9 years I think I just went to school and read sci fi books. I started to comfort eat and as a teenager I blew up like a balloon. My father was a fat nazi and told me I looked "as fat as a pig". My self esteem was through the floor any how as he was impossible to please and quite nasty. I think I had an idolised picture of him as a child as he was the only parent I had and I always tried to make him happy as he was so miserable. He made life very unpleasant really, food was something I got for myself and he didn't like being a parent. When the washing machine broke he refused to replace it and we washed all our stuff in buckets or the bath. Life from 9-18 was making my dad feel OK or avoiding him. He did not like us contacting our mother and was foul if she rang so she rarely did. We all walked on eggshells around him. Narcissistic critical man.
So I went off to University and by March 1988 I was in hospital with anorexia. I dieted so I wasn't fat but I couldn't stop. I weighed 4.5 stone. I spent a week in hospital but in those days they didn't have a clue so once I said I would start eating they let me go. My mother magically reappeared to get me back to university and through my degree by feeding me alcohol as she thought that would make me eat. I developed bulimia and my weight tripled in a year as I ate anything that moved even off the floor or stolen. Binge eating became my way of life. Eating till I vomited as so full. I hurt my tummy so badly I remember once being so sick that all that came up was yellow bile. I wasn't even making myself sick, I was eating till I couldn't eat anymore and then it would often come up.
At 22 I went to London for my first job. I started running to keep the weight off and developed compulsive exercise disorder so I used to go home at night alone to my bedsit, drink 2 bottles of cheap wine, get up at 5am, run for ten to fifteen miles, home go to work. And all the time I was eating abnormally.
I came to Bristol in 1995 as my Mum lived here and I got a job. The exercise, drinking, binge eating carried on until I was 31 when my knees gave out, I couldn't walk and I threw myself on the mercy of my GP and said I needed help. She was great - I got CBT for the bulimia and prozac for the ocd. A dietician saw me. I looked as if I had got better. The exercising and food controlling stopped.
My mother meanwhile had replaced my own brain functions with her own. She made all my decisions - how to have my haircut, what to wear, what house to buy, who to go out with. She micro-managed my life and became what a counsellor called an auxilliary ego. As I had no self esteem or decision making capacity of my own, my mother replaced them by being them.
During all this time I had bad relationships. I usually found myself with abusive controlling men often married who used me as I was so eager to please. Bit like replaying my life with my dad over and over. I was always rejected at the end and I drank and drank. My mother was there to prop me up and tell me what to do. I was a high functioning alcoholic and my career did fine and my mother was happy. How I felt was never relevant to either of my parents.
I finally met a man who has been a life saver for me and I have been with him for 11 years but goodness knows how he puts up with it all. I was tired of being a worker all the time and the drinking was taking its toll so I had to think of a way of leaving work that my mother would agree with. So I said I would start a family. So I had my first child in 2005 to please my mother in order to leave work with her approval. I had my second child as I wanted plastic surgery and my surgeon wanted me to finish my family first so my second child arrived in 2007 to please my surgeon. I had 6 operations and she was of the opinion that I have body dysmorphic disorder.
In 2008 my family emotionally clubbed together and forced me into buying a flat for my dad round the corner from me so I could care for him. Mum was ten mins away down the hill. I had a total breakdown, sold the flat and no one in my family now speaks to me. My father calls me despicable and describes my imaginary mental issues as "pseudo". I cut him off totally as I do not know what else to do, he terrifies me and I would rather not know him. And my brother disowns me. I row with Mum and I do not speak to her for 6 months. And she does not speak to me. I am left with no family caring for 2 tiny kids. I sneak off and get married as an act of defiance and I am very glad to ditch the family name.
Mum comes round with a white flag and we get back together but something isn't right, she losing lots of weight. A year before in 2007 a gynae cancer consultant tells her she just has an ageing bowel. In October 2008 we find out it was actually ovarian cancer. 10 days later she dies horribly in my arms at the local hospital and I am completely traumatised. Her death disturbs me a lot and I have flashbacks. I can not live or function without her and I had to watch cancer destroy her. 4 years on and I still can not live without her. Controlling and manipulative, my counsellor tells me my Mum probably had borderline personality disorder.
I see a counsellor as not getting over Mum's death. Still drinking. She goes through my life with me and confirms all the above. But she keeps telling me I am smart and will go somewhere great and I keep thinking that Mum would have wanted me to go back to work. My counsellor gets me off the booze and I look for work as my youngest starts school.
Six months later and here I am burnt out again. I moved my addiction from alcohol to online valium and as the job takes it's toll on my home life I take more valium. One night I take way too much and realising what an addict I have become I flush the rest away but with nothing to rely on the next day I drink a bottle of gin till I am sick and sit in bed trying to cut my wrist. The next day my husband tells me to get help or move out.
So here I am. 2 weeks on. Kids at school and I can scarcely function to go out the front door. Wondering what the F happened for me to deserve the life I got and how bad does it have to get for someone anyone to want to help. I went to A and E and saw psychiatric nurse and alcohol nurse and everyone is basically treating my issues as an addiction issue. So I go to a booze group on a wednesday night thinking my issues are bigger than this. I saw my GP and on top of my 15 years prozac I am now taking pregabalin but it's not really helping. I am so depressed I wonder what on earth I am doing here. What purpose do I serve? My poor kids were conceived to please other people and I think my eldest has NPD or aspergers but my husband won't have him assessed as he thinks I am already too much in "the system". I love my kids but I hate the life it has given us. We have no help and no family near and I have no friends so it's just us four and me and my husband are exhausted.
So I sit in bed, zonked out on pregablin and depressed. Full of existential angst and wishing someone would just swoop in and take over and take care of me but no one will. My scars are healing and I wish they had been worse so maybe the psychiatric team would have been more interested instead of handing me back over to my GP. I wish my GP was more interested but she can only give me pills and suggest I do a parenting course. I could scream inside as I flounder through each day with no purpose.
I am thinking of seeing a private psychiatrist as my life has zero meaning now. I exist but I have no role. I do not enjoy being a mother while at the same time loving my two kids. Without my Mum my brain is inadequate. I am scared of dying but also wonder if it will reunite me with the one person I loved the most. Did I love her or just the fact she was in charge. I no longer know.
That is my life. I am scared that one day I will really hurt myself because I drink too much or sober I can not take it anymore. I have few friends and those I have live too far to meet. I am all alone and floundering.
So I see my GP on friday and review the pregabalin and "how I am doing" and all I can think is look at my life lady! How do you think I am doing! :shades:
Story over. x