A Tale of Survival

I survived.

Sometimes barely.

But I did.

It's difficult to put into words what it's like to grow up with someone who deals with PTSD, is an alcoholic, and exhibits many narcissistic behaviors. Someone who is one of the most anal, type-A, crazy people you will ever meet.

But I'll try.

You know what it's like?

It's being told that you make up things, that you lie. They deny their part in things. If they can't remember, it didn't happen. If you remember it, then you're crazy.

You argue with them. You get mad. You cry. It gets you no where. So eventually....you stop. And they win. And you hate that. But it's just easier.

It's not knowing what character of the person will walk through the door. It's bracing yourself for the absolute worst, but hoping for the best.

It's screaming matches. It's yelling. It's covering your ears at night to try to drown out the noise.

It's the answering machine telling you he will be home late, because of work. But it's not because of work.

It's never measuring up. Never being good enough for them. It's trying over and over to win their approval, but never getting it.

It's being manipulated. Coerced. Tricked. They play with your emotions like it's a game.

They throw around the word love and offer fake praise when they want something from you. And if you don't give it to them, they throw out the insults once more.

It's them never being able to own up to their mistakes, their poor choices. They are always the victim. Always the abused, but really they are the abuser.

It's being accused of things you never did or said. It's the mentality that it's their way or the highway. And honestly, you start thinking the highway doesn't look so bad.

It's trying to get you to be the "middle-man" and place you in positions you don't want to be. It's trying to get others fighting over issues they think is important. It's pitting family member against family member.

It's playing with your mind. It's emotional and verbal abuse. And sometimes physical abuse.

It's watching them crush the spirits of the ones you love. It's the hatred you see in the eyes of your family members and in your own eyes. It's seeing them take your family member's love and passion and making it die.

It's them not being there. It's them being absent when they are there. It's knowing that somehow they are disappointed in you, but you have no idea why.

And then you grow up, all confused and hurt and broken. And the cycle doesn't stop. The person is still like that. You find yourself like that at times and it makes you sick. You literally get sick.

You sit in your bed at night and the lies come back to whisper in your ear. His voice sounds so real and it makes your breathing heavy.

The images flash in your mind and things you wish you never knew have a hard time escaping from your brain. It doesn't matter if your eyes are open or closed. It's still there.

You wonder if anyone could truly handle all of this. If anyone could truly love you. Jesus, you know, yes. But a person, outside your family? You aren't sure.

You think to yourself, who would want to deal with this? Because you don't even want to deal with it.

You are broken and hurt. But you are restored and redeemed. God's Words bring healing. You cling to them. You run to Him each time the lies make their way into your head again. And you feel safe. Loved. Protected. You don't know what is going to happen in the future, but you are glad He is by your side through all of it.  The good days and the bad ones.

The days you forget all about it and go on with life. And the days you stare at the bath water like it can somehow solve your problems and drown you without you really trying. The days you laugh and talk with friends. And the days you secretly sob in your room plagued by the past.

So what's it like to have a PTSD, alcoholic, narcissistic parent? It's deep and dark depression. It's anxiety. It's panic attacks. It's night terrors. But it's also knowing how to cope with it. It's learning how to breathe when you feel like you are drowning. It's learning how to reach out to others.

It's sharing your story. To let people know...they can survive too. Because I survived.