The biggest challenge in my life was not to find someone to love me. It was to find my love for me. Thirteen years of an early childhood that were a combat zone filled with terror, anxiety, fear, verbal/physical abuse, sleepless nights, screams, helpless to rescue, hopeless to escape, suicidal thoughts, poverty and alcoholism, that left ghosts in the aftermath within me that I carried unaware for most of my life. I still fight them. I was emotionally crippled by a disability that was so insidious that it was only visible in its effects of my movements, poor choices and the resulting consequences that were based on a distorted, warped life filter. I had sub-zero, self-esteem and so I courted and reinforced this image of myself as a loser and so I kept losing. The relationships I had never satisfied that gaping, seeping wound without a name that would not heal or let me go. Why? Because the love that I kept searching for was my own love. More aptly, it supported an ongoing oppression of my value as a person. In essence, this is a journey of loving myself backwards and now forward. I am no longer a restless, dislocated, missing person. I have found myself, alive and well-after all. If your life seems similar to mine I would encourage you to read books about Adult Children of Alcoholics and Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. My thanks to all those people and programs involved in alcoholism and domestic abuse. You are helping to save lives!
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