Reflecting on my past-lowering my bar of standards
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Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Kansas
Posts: 10,182
Reflecting on my past-lowering my bar of standards
I'll never forget when I met hubby #2. I was picking up my then only daughter from the babysitter, and this wild haired tattooed man came strutting through her living room, with the babysitter's son, and I asked the sitter who in the world was that???!!!!
Well, she told me that was her son's recent cellmate from the penitentiary and they had both been recently released on parole.
It was lust at first sight!
Mind you, I had my own alcoholism/addiction issues I refused to recognize, and was just recently divorced from hubby #1 who was a good man but could NOT live his life with an addict/alkie, and so I was on the rebound.
I never ever, not once, had brought a whole and healthy me to the table in any of my relationships.
And so began the whirlwind romance with that wild haired tattooed bad boy.
He wined and dined me, whispered sweet nothings in my ear, and the sex was hot hot hot!
Never mind that he appeared to be having difficulty in finding/holding a job. I'd take care of him!
He was just misunderstood! My gosh, those two stays in the penitentiary were just because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people!
No one had ever given him a chance, and by God, I was going to be the one to do that and we'd live happily ever after.
I'll never forget the first time that he hit me. I was devastated.
He wasn't high or drunk at the time either.
And then those words came out of his mouth, '"I am so so so sorry, I have NEVER EVER hit a woman in my life."
At that moment, the stage was set for the next five years of my life.
There was something inherently wrong with me, and I deserved to be hit because he had never EVER done that to a woman to me.
His alcoholism/addictions progressed, and so did mine, along with my insane codependency.
Every time he beat me, every time he told me I was worthless and it was all my fault, and I just needed to get off of his ass, a little part of me died inside.
His parole was violated two years into our relationship, and off to the pen he went for a year's stay.
All those letters that I got from him were full of promises, of hope, of 'it will be different' this time.
I didn't hesitate for a heartbeat to marry him as soon as he got back out.
And it got worse.
He got sicker and sicker, and I got sicker and sicker.
There were times I should have gone to the ER after he was done with me, but I knew he'd beat me worse if I went.
I was hit in the back of the head, body-slammed to the floor, kicked in the ribs, and thrown down the wooden basement steps.
Every time he got done with me, a little more of me died, and I knew this was what I deserved because I was 'less than'. You see, I never ever brought a whole and healthy me to the table in a relationship.
And a little girl watched all these horrors, and often ran to her room to hide in terror.
Now that little girl is a 30 year old alcoholic/addict, and can't remember most of that because she's blocked it out of her mind as a survival technique.
I have pictures of her 6th birthday party, and I am in the background, skin and bones, haggard face, dead eyes, and it still renders my heart in two when I look at it. I was not there for that daughter.
It took me another 12 long years after I got into recovery from my own alcoholism/addictions before I was finally willing to look at my codependency issues.
The then fiance of 15 months had just walked out the door after cleaning out my bank account, after I had spent a month caring for his two daughters who had come for a summer visit (and I fell in love with both of them), and after I had once again brought a less than whole and healthy me to the table in a relationship.
I watched my then 11 year old daughter cry. I watched my 3 year old granddaughter cry.
It was then, and only then, that I truly understood that my continuing pattern of engaging with unhealthy men because I was not whole, had not only hurt me, but there were other casualties, children who had no choice but to live with the decisions I had been making.
That was my codependent bottom.
Well, she told me that was her son's recent cellmate from the penitentiary and they had both been recently released on parole.
It was lust at first sight!
Mind you, I had my own alcoholism/addiction issues I refused to recognize, and was just recently divorced from hubby #1 who was a good man but could NOT live his life with an addict/alkie, and so I was on the rebound.
I never ever, not once, had brought a whole and healthy me to the table in any of my relationships.
And so began the whirlwind romance with that wild haired tattooed bad boy.
He wined and dined me, whispered sweet nothings in my ear, and the sex was hot hot hot!
Never mind that he appeared to be having difficulty in finding/holding a job. I'd take care of him!
He was just misunderstood! My gosh, those two stays in the penitentiary were just because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people!
No one had ever given him a chance, and by God, I was going to be the one to do that and we'd live happily ever after.
I'll never forget the first time that he hit me. I was devastated.
He wasn't high or drunk at the time either.
And then those words came out of his mouth, '"I am so so so sorry, I have NEVER EVER hit a woman in my life."
At that moment, the stage was set for the next five years of my life.
There was something inherently wrong with me, and I deserved to be hit because he had never EVER done that to a woman to me.
His alcoholism/addictions progressed, and so did mine, along with my insane codependency.
Every time he beat me, every time he told me I was worthless and it was all my fault, and I just needed to get off of his ass, a little part of me died inside.
His parole was violated two years into our relationship, and off to the pen he went for a year's stay.
All those letters that I got from him were full of promises, of hope, of 'it will be different' this time.
I didn't hesitate for a heartbeat to marry him as soon as he got back out.
And it got worse.
He got sicker and sicker, and I got sicker and sicker.
There were times I should have gone to the ER after he was done with me, but I knew he'd beat me worse if I went.
I was hit in the back of the head, body-slammed to the floor, kicked in the ribs, and thrown down the wooden basement steps.
Every time he got done with me, a little more of me died, and I knew this was what I deserved because I was 'less than'. You see, I never ever brought a whole and healthy me to the table in a relationship.
And a little girl watched all these horrors, and often ran to her room to hide in terror.
Now that little girl is a 30 year old alcoholic/addict, and can't remember most of that because she's blocked it out of her mind as a survival technique.
I have pictures of her 6th birthday party, and I am in the background, skin and bones, haggard face, dead eyes, and it still renders my heart in two when I look at it. I was not there for that daughter.
It took me another 12 long years after I got into recovery from my own alcoholism/addictions before I was finally willing to look at my codependency issues.
The then fiance of 15 months had just walked out the door after cleaning out my bank account, after I had spent a month caring for his two daughters who had come for a summer visit (and I fell in love with both of them), and after I had once again brought a less than whole and healthy me to the table in a relationship.
I watched my then 11 year old daughter cry. I watched my 3 year old granddaughter cry.
It was then, and only then, that I truly understood that my continuing pattern of engaging with unhealthy men because I was not whole, had not only hurt me, but there were other casualties, children who had no choice but to live with the decisions I had been making.
That was my codependent bottom.
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Join Date: Mar 2008
Location: Baghdad
Posts: 2,822
Originally Posted by Freedom1990 
I'll never forget when I met hubby #2. I was picking up my then only daughter from the babysitter, and this wild haired tattooed man came strutting through her living room, with the babysitter's son, and I asked the sitter who in the world was that???!!!!
Well, she told me that was her son's recent cellmate from the penitentiary and they had both been recently released on parole.
It was lust at first sight!
Mind you, I had my own alcoholism/addiction issues I refused to recognize, and was just recently divorced from hubby #1 who was a good man but could NOT live his life with an addict/alkie, and so I was on the rebound.
I never ever, not once, had brought a whole and healthy me to the table in any of my relationships.
And so began the whirlwind romance with that wild haired tattooed bad boy.
He wined and dined me, whispered sweet nothings in my ear, and the sex was hot hot hot!
Never mind that he appeared to be having difficulty in finding/holding a job. I'd take care of him!
He was just misunderstood! My gosh, those two stays in the penitentiary were just because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people!
No one had ever given him a chance, and by God, I was going to be the one to do that and we'd live happily ever after.
I'll never forget the first time that he hit me. I was devastated.
He wasn't high or drunk at the time either.
And then those words came out of his mouth, '"I am so so so sorry, I have NEVER EVER hit a woman in my life."
At that moment, the stage was set for the next five years of my life.
There was something inherently wrong with me, and I deserved to be hit because he had never EVER done that to a woman to me.
His alcoholism/addictions progressed, and so did mine, along with my insane codependency.
Every time he beat me, every time he told me I was worthless and it was all my fault, and I just needed to get off of his ass, a little part of me died inside.
His parole was violated two years into our relationship, and off to the pen he went for a year's stay.
All those letters that I got from him were full of promises, of hope, of 'it will be different' this time.
I didn't hesitate for a heartbeat to marry him as soon as he got back out.
And it got worse.
He got sicker and sicker, and I got sicker and sicker.
There were times I should have gone to the ER after he was done with me, but I knew he'd beat me worse if I went.
I was hit in the back of the head, body-slammed to the floor, kicked in the ribs, and thrown down the wooden basement steps.
Every time he got done with me, a little more of me died, and I knew this was what I deserved because I was 'less than'. You see, I never ever brought a whole and healthy me to the table in a relationship.
And a little girl watched all these horrors, and often ran to her room to hide in terror.
Now that little girl is a 30 year old alcoholic/addict, and can't remember most of that because she's blocked it out of her mind as a survival technique.
I have pictures of her 6th birthday party, and I am in the background, skin and bones, haggard face, dead eyes, and it still renders my heart in two when I look at it. I was not there for that daughter.
It took me another 12 long years after I got into recovery from my own alcoholism/addictions before I was finally willing to look at my codependency issues.
The then fiance of 15 months had just walked out the door after cleaning out my bank account, after I had spent a month caring for his two daughters who had come for a summer visit (and I fell in love with both of them), and after I had once again brought a less than whole and healthy me to the table in a relationship.
I watched my then 11 year old daughter cry. I watched my 3 year old granddaughter cry.
It was then, and only then, that I truly understood that my continuing pattern of engaging with unhealthy men because I was not whole, had not only hurt me, but there were other casualties, children who had no choice but to live with the decisions I had been making.
That was my codependent bottom.
Well, she told me that was her son's recent cellmate from the penitentiary and they had both been recently released on parole.
It was lust at first sight!
Mind you, I had my own alcoholism/addiction issues I refused to recognize, and was just recently divorced from hubby #1 who was a good man but could NOT live his life with an addict/alkie, and so I was on the rebound.
I never ever, not once, had brought a whole and healthy me to the table in any of my relationships.
And so began the whirlwind romance with that wild haired tattooed bad boy.
He wined and dined me, whispered sweet nothings in my ear, and the sex was hot hot hot!
Never mind that he appeared to be having difficulty in finding/holding a job. I'd take care of him!
He was just misunderstood! My gosh, those two stays in the penitentiary were just because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people!
No one had ever given him a chance, and by God, I was going to be the one to do that and we'd live happily ever after.
I'll never forget the first time that he hit me. I was devastated.
He wasn't high or drunk at the time either.
And then those words came out of his mouth, '"I am so so so sorry, I have NEVER EVER hit a woman in my life."
At that moment, the stage was set for the next five years of my life.
There was something inherently wrong with me, and I deserved to be hit because he had never EVER done that to a woman to me.
His alcoholism/addictions progressed, and so did mine, along with my insane codependency.
Every time he beat me, every time he told me I was worthless and it was all my fault, and I just needed to get off of his ass, a little part of me died inside.
His parole was violated two years into our relationship, and off to the pen he went for a year's stay.
All those letters that I got from him were full of promises, of hope, of 'it will be different' this time.
I didn't hesitate for a heartbeat to marry him as soon as he got back out.
And it got worse.
He got sicker and sicker, and I got sicker and sicker.
There were times I should have gone to the ER after he was done with me, but I knew he'd beat me worse if I went.
I was hit in the back of the head, body-slammed to the floor, kicked in the ribs, and thrown down the wooden basement steps.
Every time he got done with me, a little more of me died, and I knew this was what I deserved because I was 'less than'. You see, I never ever brought a whole and healthy me to the table in a relationship.
And a little girl watched all these horrors, and often ran to her room to hide in terror.
Now that little girl is a 30 year old alcoholic/addict, and can't remember most of that because she's blocked it out of her mind as a survival technique.
I have pictures of her 6th birthday party, and I am in the background, skin and bones, haggard face, dead eyes, and it still renders my heart in two when I look at it. I was not there for that daughter.
It took me another 12 long years after I got into recovery from my own alcoholism/addictions before I was finally willing to look at my codependency issues.
The then fiance of 15 months had just walked out the door after cleaning out my bank account, after I had spent a month caring for his two daughters who had come for a summer visit (and I fell in love with both of them), and after I had once again brought a less than whole and healthy me to the table in a relationship.
I watched my then 11 year old daughter cry. I watched my 3 year old granddaughter cry.
It was then, and only then, that I truly understood that my continuing pattern of engaging with unhealthy men because I was not whole, had not only hurt me, but there were other casualties, children who had no choice but to live with the decisions I had been making.
That was my codependent bottom.
She met me in the parking lot at Kohls, and insisted on hashing it out-in front of the kids!?!? I naturally refused, quietly pointing out that the kids were there and it wouldn't be appropriate, not adding that it would have been pointless anyways. We were going to have the same circular discussion that we always do, nothing ever getting resolved.
I'm not going to be part of that unhealthy dynamic anymore, have seen first hand what being raised in an alcoholic household does to children, and do not want that on my conscience down the road.
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Kansas
Posts: 10,182
Originally Posted by Bernadette
Freedom thank you for this incredible biography!! Wow.
What were the most powerful steps you took to get "whole?"
Peace & thank you for your honesty-
B.
What were the most powerful steps you took to get "whole?"
Peace & thank you for your honesty-
B.
I made a commitment to myself that I was not going to act on those feelings when I hit the tough spots in life, and was going to get past those feelings of being less than, not whole, if I didn't have a man in my life.
Today I can honestly say that although I have not had a significant other since the ex-fiance left in 1999, I am so much healthier and whole as a person, and I enjoy my 'me' time and being independent.
I'm enrolled in college full-time (all online classes), am active in my recovery, and am so grateful that I decided to embark on that journey of self-discovery.
God's Kid
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: New Zealand
Posts: 1,820
Thanks freedom.
Great story!
As I read I began laughing out loud. My 1st ever serious relationship began when I was 15 and I met a guy (alcoholic) who had run off from the treatment centre, he was court order to, after putting his last GF in hospital.
But like you, yes I beleived it would be different for me since I would/could really understand him. He was tatooed and wild haired too!
If I knew then, what I know now about alcoholism, I would have had a different life.
I have found recovery from co dependence alot harder than getting sober off chemicals. I am an alcoholic too - 10 years clean and sober.
I pray that never again will I get into a crazy relationship.
Great story!
As I read I began laughing out loud. My 1st ever serious relationship began when I was 15 and I met a guy (alcoholic) who had run off from the treatment centre, he was court order to, after putting his last GF in hospital.
But like you, yes I beleived it would be different for me since I would/could really understand him. He was tatooed and wild haired too!
If I knew then, what I know now about alcoholism, I would have had a different life.
I have found recovery from co dependence alot harder than getting sober off chemicals. I am an alcoholic too - 10 years clean and sober.
I pray that never again will I get into a crazy relationship.
Member
Join Date: Aug 2008
Posts: 163
What an awesome, awesome thread. I wish every parent who is struggling with situations like this could read this. It really brings it home, it is not just us and or the addict that is hurt but whole families. Thanks so much for writing this.
Member
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 1,322
Freedom, I think you are just wonderful. Thank you for this post from your heart. It has really touched me, and I am saying a prayer of joy for you tonight that you are doing so well for yourself and now for your other girls. It's never too late for them to see what "healthy" looks like. Just look at yourself. What a woman.
Formerly known as soconfused11
Join Date: Jan 2008
Location: Colon, MI
Posts: 410
Devon, you are a wonderful woman, and I also have the syndrome of trying to find the next man to fix me. Thanks for bringing me back to reality with this awesome post.
XOXO
Lexi
XOXO
Lexi
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