My dad was an alcoholic. Most of my childhood memories revolve around some sort of family drama. My mom was always so wrapped up in the struggle of living with an alcoholic that I always felt that I had no one to depend on, and that I had to not only take care of myself, but everyone else in the family too. No one was there to take care of me. That pattern continued throughout my life, in both work and relationships. I don’t let people see when I need help. I’m always the “strong” one. I hate that more than I can tell you. I’m the strong one because no one else was.
I want someone to take care of me. I want someone to know when I am hurting, or needing reassurance without having to ask for it.
I want to be able to let someone help me, but I am afraid they won’t be there for me when I really need it, so I don’t even ask. People tell me that I’m always so calm and in control, but they are only seeing the surface. That’s all I let them see. They tell me that I handle everything so calmly. What choice did I have? And now it’s so hard to be any other way than “the strong one”.
I yearn for someone to tell me that it’s all going to be okay.
I yearn for someone to wrap me up in their arms and give me a hug just because I need a hug. Strength isn’t always a good thing.