What my mom didn't do, I can (how I can save myself)

[Gabriel8]

It just kept getting worse, and there was nothing I could do to make it better.

   This morning I woke from an upsetting PTSD nightmare. This one was about being bullied. I have a lot of PTSD nightmares. The setting changes, but the theme is always the same: things are getting worse and worse, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. 

   It is the feeling of utter helplessness that is the most terrifying thing to me. To know that I have no power whatsoever over the scary thing in the nightmare, be it bullies or something else. I've had so many of these dreams now, I find myself wondering about this secret and unspeakable terror that I have; which keeps showing up in my sleep. My greatest fear in life has long been falling apart, and being utterly helpless to stop everything that I have and am from losing itself; like a house of cards in a light breeze. 

   I couldn't halt or stop my mother's alcoholism from destroying her; from taking from her everything that she had and was, until all that was left of her was a shell of her former self. I couldn't stop the progression of her disease (alcoholism). All I could do, as a child and a person, was to watch her slowly and die; knowing that by her refusal to get help that there was only one way this could end (her death). I could do nothing as her son and as a boy, except to be torn apart by watching helplessly as the first person who I had loved in my life was whittled down to nothing. 

   I hated her for her refusal to get help. I hated her because I had loved her so much, and I desperately wanted whatever it would take for her to get better. I hated her but I wasn't able to feel my hate because I was too busy trying desperately to save her. 

   I found her hidden liquor bottle and emptied it on one occasion. I worried about her constantly; even though I was her son and only a little boy. I tried to be the "best" son I could be; and to behave as I thought she wanted and needed. I joined her in blaming the world and people and everything else for her suffering; everything except for her own self, and her poor life choices (the one thing that could have saved her). 

   I could not have saved my mother. There was "nothing I could do to make it better." I wanted to save her, and would have given anything as a boy to do so. 

   I could only watch helplessly as she slowly died from her disease and, most of all, from her unwillingness to get help. 

   And I suppose that what happened to her became my own greatest fear because I believed that I had failed her, and that there was something I could have done to save her. However much I may have believed so as a boy, there wasn't a thing in the world that I could ever have done for her that could have saved her. While she, and then myself (for some years), blamed everything and everyone for her plight; she was truly the only person who could have saved herself, by asking for and accepting help. She did not die because she was an alcoholic; she died because she was unwilling to reach out for help. 

   There are so many things in my life that I can't control that the list is endless; but I can control my decision to reach out for help when I need it. And while my body may be ravaged by disease or injury, or my mind may be reduced by traumatic brain injury or (eventually) alzheimer's or dementia; I will always have control over what I choose to say and do (for the most part). And I hope that I can take comfort in knowing that I can continue to choose to reach out for help when I need it. 

   What happened to my mom was avoidable, but only by her own choice. I am so sorry to my inner child that I could only watch her die. I can assure him, however, that while he was helpless to save her; he (& I) can avoid her end by making better choices (something over which I do have control). The boy I was could not have known that; but the man who I now am can (and does). 

   My story can have a happy ending, after all! 

[reader]

Dear Gabriel,

I'm so sorry for your pain and sorrow. I'm glad you are taking the time to share your story. I know it will help a lot of other people.

Thinking of you.

[Gabriel8]

On January 11, 2018 at 1:07 PM, reader said:

I'm so sorry for your pain and sorrow. I'm glad you are taking the time to share your story. I know it will help a lot of other people.

Thinking of you.

Thank you, @reader. I really appreciate your support and encouragement. 

It helps me to know that there is something positive that can come out of what was so painful and hard. In fact, a sense of meaning and purpose changes the entire landscape of sorrow, for me.