Re: Understanding my childhood and me today

[Guest guest]

Fiona, I can relate so much to this - I still use escapism heavily and it is no

good for me. Yet I still do it... I read tons of Harlequin novels too and now

the internet has taken over. I always loved the idea of the heroine being

rescued from her dreary life by the dashing stranger. In my real life it was

always the strangers that brought hope or change because what I already knew was

painful and empty mostly.

Rochelle, I often feel the same way that the level of care I need is only

available from the divine. The needs that are created by growing up a KO for me

at least I find hard to meet through ordinary life.

Eliza

>

> Fiona, I experienced something very similar to this, except it wasn't only

about imagining the situations - I even acted them out! I did it with movies and

books too. I used them to escape.

>

> Sometimes I feel like a 41 year-old child. I long to be the wise adult whose

counsel I seek on occasion, but in my mind I'm really just a child who doesn't

want any responsibility for anyone (including myself). I just want to be

comforted and soothed.

>

> Is there really a therapist out there who cares about my story enough to

really take the time to listen and to help? Sometimes I think the only one who

cares is God.

>

[Guest guest]

Fiona, I can relate so much to this - I still use escapism heavily and it is no

good for me. Yet I still do it... I read tons of Harlequin novels too and now

the internet has taken over. I always loved the idea of the heroine being

rescued from her dreary life by the dashing stranger. In my real life it was

always the strangers that brought hope or change because what I already knew was

painful and empty mostly.

Rochelle, I often feel the same way that the level of care I need is only

available from the divine. The needs that are created by growing up a KO for me

at least I find hard to meet through ordinary life.

Eliza

>

> Fiona, I experienced something very similar to this, except it wasn't only

about imagining the situations - I even acted them out! I did it with movies and

books too. I used them to escape.

>

> Sometimes I feel like a 41 year-old child. I long to be the wise adult whose

counsel I seek on occasion, but in my mind I'm really just a child who doesn't

want any responsibility for anyone (including myself). I just want to be

comforted and soothed.

>

> Is there really a therapist out there who cares about my story enough to

really take the time to listen and to help? Sometimes I think the only one who

cares is God.

>

[Guest guest]

I just read this post. It's so brave, insightful and validating for those of us

who have felt similar emotions. I too was ECSTATIC to leave for college, never

once feeling homesick. Thanks for writing this. I don't think I have the same

escapism tendency, but I do have the problem of feeling like I am waiting for my

real life to begin and turning to food whenever I feel an unpleasant emotion. I

would give anything to get to a point where I am comfortable in my own skin.

Above all,my biggest fear is passing this crap onto my daughter. I will never

forgive myself if she has food and/or body image issues.

>

> Hi everyone,

>

> I would like some feedback and to know if anyone else has gone through this

kind of experience.

>

> I've been taking a lot of inventory of myself and have realized that a big

part of my personality, since my childhood, has been escape. Simply put, I am a

recovering avoider. I like to live in my head. Maybe it began as an attempt to

get away from my parents' constant arguments and bickering and my mother's

intrusiveness, smothering (and at the same time, lack of affection), maybe to

not face ugly things in my family, I don't know.

>

> I loved to imagine worlds in my mind where there was love, and romance, and

rescuing. I loved Harlequin novels and read as many as I could. I read ANYthing

just to not be where I was. Bottom line: I always wanted to be someone else and

somewhere else. I was very bad at relating to others. But inside me, that was

different. 

>

> I would create elaborate scenarios in my mind of me conquering crime and

falling in love with Batman (I was little, ok?!). As I got older, the need for

this kind of escapism would increase and I was no longer the leading lady. It

was usually some celebrity who was much prettier and thinner than me. Instead of

Batman, it was Lennon or Sting; but again, it was never me who was the

leading lady. I guess, even in my head, I wasn't good enough for the lead.

>

> Part of my escapism also involved lots and lots of food. I just wanted to

become numb to my surroundings and not have to engage with the reality of my

life. I was very lonely - no sleep overs, after school events, or friends

allowed at my house. My parents wouldn't allow it. I would shove in as much food

as I could: Twinkies, Suzy Qs, half a pack of hot dogs, a box of Corn Flakes and

a dozen donuts. 

>

> I was a latchkey kid and would fantasize in school about how many packs of

candy bars  I could pick up on the way home from school. Our neighborhood was

not the nicest. There was quite a bit of drug activity and other illegal stuff

going on in front of our apartment complex. I'm sure that was another reason for

my wanting to escape in any way possible from the reality of going home to an

empty apartment, knowing my parents, upon coming home from work, would either be

disengaged from one another and me, or be arguing with one another. I felt that

as long as I went unnoticed by them, it was good. Being noticed by them meant

being criticized, scrutinized, questioned, etc. Being invisible was good. Cue

the show in my head, and bring on 2 packs of Kit Kats, 2 Snickers, more Suzy Qs,

and a box of cookies.  My T at one point had asked me to talk to the child who

would come home on her own and who sat in front of the tv with little positive

human contact. I

> just couldn't. Every time I would try, it was too painful. I didn't know what

to say to her.   

>

> My family moved when I was in my senior year in high school. Most kids would

have been distraught to be taken away from their high school and friends in

their last year (and I wasn't thrilled at first), but for me, it was fantastic!

I made new friends and since I was older and the neighborhood was better, my

parents were a little more ok with me being with my friends (just a little more

ok; not that much!). I was busy in school, busy applying to colleges, I was

happy! I lived away at college. I. Loved. It. For the first time in my life, I

felt free and happy and ok to be me. I had to hide how happy I was from my

mother, she was so distraught and freaked that I was leaving. I noticed how

scared and homesick my roommates were. Not me. I was in heaven! I didn't turn to

my silly inside performances or food (well, I did eat quite a bit; but it was

really more of that college social eating than anxiety eating). 

>

> So, I realize looking back that full life and full mind = less need for

self-soothing through fluffy fantasies and numbing amounts of food. 

>

> This fullness of life and mind carried on for ten years, up until after I'd

been married a while ...when the need for my MentalPeace Theater took hold

again. I loved being married to my husband (and am still married to my wonderful

man). He's one of the best people I know. I think I was wholly unprepared,

though, for marriage, for the compromises involved, for getting to know the

other person's moods, etc.  I did what I do when I'm faced with situations that

scare me and take me out of my comfort zone: I would hide, avoid,

compartmentalize, put it away somewhere in my mind where I could tuck it away,

the way someone else might blast the tv or radio to not have to hear some other

noise. And I would eat a lot.

>

> That's how it has worked for me until recently--a few months ago--when I felt

like I woke up from a fuzzy dream and realized I'm dreaming my life away, that

I'm not fully living a real life.  All my life, if I thought about something

pleasant involving a romantic situation, drama, tragedy, it would dull my

experience of an UNpleasant thing in my life that was taking place. It was a

mechanism that worked for me as a child but that I have been turning to as an

adult. As my kids grew older and I had to interact more with other people, it

terrified me and I noticed how difficult that was for me, how scary it was. It's

like a muscle I hadn't used in decades and now it was forced to be used

nonstop. 

>

> Finally after all these years of more of the same, of on and off of turning to

this childhood tool that comforted and soothed me through so much turmoil and

distress and fear and loneliness, I finally feel like God is saying, " when? when

will you put away this security blanket? it's no longer useful to you. You have

me now. I can comfort you and give you peace much more than your imaginings

can. "  

>

>

> I can finally see how turning to this false form of temporary escape has been

directly connected to food and emotional eating for me. All these years, I

wondered....why? why do I eat so much? why do I turn to food FIRST the moment I

feel any distress or anger or just any feelings of any kind?? A big piece of the

puzzle was filled in when I really began to look back and take inventory of

myself. 

>

> I feel like I' m in recovery, aware of my weaknesses, of triggers that could

potentially set me off. I like myself much more. I like meeting new people more.

I definitely still need my personal space...but that's ok. 

>

> If you've read this far, thank you for listening to my story. I have not

shared this with any one really. I think it makes me sound really wacky and

coo-coo.  I'm glad to finally share it with you all and look forward to any

feedback, shared experience, etc.

>

> thanks,

>

> Fiona

>

>

[Guest guest]

I agree, it is brave and insightful. I remember when I drove away from my nada

the first time to move 6 hours away, it was awesome! I never realized until

very recently that I too have an escape mechanism that I rely on even now. Very

few people know about it because I thought I was crazy, but I still seek asylum

in my own little world, especially at night when I can't sleep. I remember too,

as a child the great imagination that my escapes would take on, although my hero

was usually a member of Duran Duran or Cougar Mellencamp (I'm an 80's kid

lol). I am glad to know I'm not totally nuts, even though I was raised by one.

Tina B

> >

> > Hi everyone,

> >

> > I would like some feedback and to know if anyone else has gone through this

kind of experience.

> >

> > I've been taking a lot of inventory of myself and have realized that a big

part of my personality, since my childhood, has been escape. Simply put, I am a

recovering avoider. I like to live in my head. Maybe it began as an attempt to

get away from my parents' constant arguments and bickering and my mother's

intrusiveness, smothering (and at the same time, lack of affection), maybe to

not face ugly things in my family, I don't know.

> >

> > I loved to imagine worlds in my mind where there was love, and romance, and

rescuing. I loved Harlequin novels and read as many as I could. I read ANYthing

just to not be where I was. Bottom line: I always wanted to be someone else and

somewhere else. I was very bad at relating to others. But inside me, that was

different. 

> >

> > I would create elaborate scenarios in my mind of me conquering crime and

falling in love with Batman (I was little, ok?!). As I got older, the need for

this kind of escapism would increase and I was no longer the leading lady. It

was usually some celebrity who was much prettier and thinner than me. Instead of

Batman, it was Lennon or Sting; but again, it was never me who was the

leading lady. I guess, even in my head, I wasn't good enough for the lead.

> >

> > Part of my escapism also involved lots and lots of food. I just wanted to

become numb to my surroundings and not have to engage with the reality of my

life. I was very lonely - no sleep overs, after school events, or friends

allowed at my house. My parents wouldn't allow it. I would shove in as much food

as I could: Twinkies, Suzy Qs, half a pack of hot dogs, a box of Corn Flakes and

a dozen donuts. 

> >

> > I was a latchkey kid and would fantasize in school about how many packs of

candy bars  I could pick up on the way home from school. Our neighborhood was

not the nicest. There was quite a bit of drug activity and other illegal stuff

going on in front of our apartment complex. I'm sure that was another reason for

my wanting to escape in any way possible from the reality of going home to an

empty apartment, knowing my parents, upon coming home from work, would either be

disengaged from one another and me, or be arguing with one another. I felt that

as long as I went unnoticed by them, it was good. Being noticed by them meant

being criticized, scrutinized, questioned, etc. Being invisible was good. Cue

the show in my head, and bring on 2 packs of Kit Kats, 2 Snickers, more Suzy Qs,

and a box of cookies.  My T at one point had asked me to talk to the child who

would come home on her own and who sat in front of the tv with little positive

human contact. I

> > just couldn't. Every time I would try, it was too painful. I didn't know

what to say to her.   

> >

> > My family moved when I was in my senior year in high school. Most kids would

have been distraught to be taken away from their high school and friends in

their last year (and I wasn't thrilled at first), but for me, it was fantastic!

I made new friends and since I was older and the neighborhood was better, my

parents were a little more ok with me being with my friends (just a little more

ok; not that much!). I was busy in school, busy applying to colleges, I was

happy! I lived away at college. I. Loved. It. For the first time in my life, I

felt free and happy and ok to be me. I had to hide how happy I was from my

mother, she was so distraught and freaked that I was leaving. I noticed how

scared and homesick my roommates were. Not me. I was in heaven! I didn't turn to

my silly inside performances or food (well, I did eat quite a bit; but it was

really more of that college social eating than anxiety eating). 

> >

> > So, I realize looking back that full life and full mind = less need for

self-soothing through fluffy fantasies and numbing amounts of food. 

> >

> > This fullness of life and mind carried on for ten years, up until after I'd

been married a while ...when the need for my MentalPeace Theater took hold

again. I loved being married to my husband (and am still married to my wonderful

man). He's one of the best people I know. I think I was wholly unprepared,

though, for marriage, for the compromises involved, for getting to know the

other person's moods, etc.  I did what I do when I'm faced with situations that

scare me and take me out of my comfort zone: I would hide, avoid,

compartmentalize, put it away somewhere in my mind where I could tuck it away,

the way someone else might blast the tv or radio to not have to hear some other

noise. And I would eat a lot.

> >

> > That's how it has worked for me until recently--a few months ago--when I

felt like I woke up from a fuzzy dream and realized I'm dreaming my life away,

that I'm not fully living a real life.  All my life, if I thought about

something pleasant involving a romantic situation, drama, tragedy, it would dull

my experience of an UNpleasant thing in my life that was taking place. It was a

mechanism that worked for me as a child but that I have been turning to as an

adult. As my kids grew older and I had to interact more with other people, it

terrified me and I noticed how difficult that was for me, how scary it was. It's

like a muscle I hadn't used in decades and now it was forced to be used

nonstop. 

> >

> > Finally after all these years of more of the same, of on and off of turning

to this childhood tool that comforted and soothed me through so much turmoil and

distress and fear and loneliness, I finally feel like God is saying, " when? when

will you put away this security blanket? it's no longer useful to you. You have

me now. I can comfort you and give you peace much more than your imaginings

can. "  

> >

> >

> > I can finally see how turning to this false form of temporary escape has

been directly connected to food and emotional eating for me. All these years, I

wondered....why? why do I eat so much? why do I turn to food FIRST the moment I

feel any distress or anger or just any feelings of any kind?? A big piece of the

puzzle was filled in when I really began to look back and take inventory of

myself. 

> >

> > I feel like I' m in recovery, aware of my weaknesses, of triggers that could

potentially set me off. I like myself much more. I like meeting new people more.

I definitely still need my personal space...but that's ok. 

> >

> > If you've read this far, thank you for listening to my story. I have not

shared this with any one really. I think it makes me sound really wacky and

coo-coo.  I'm glad to finally share it with you all and look forward to any

feedback, shared experience, etc.

> >

> > thanks,

> >

> > Fiona

> >

> >

[Guest guest]

Thanks for your feedback, !

I agree with you, I don't want to pass this on to my kids. I want it to end with

me.

> >

> > Hi everyone,

> >

> > I would like some feedback and to know if anyone else has gone through this

kind of experience.

> >

> > I've been taking a lot of inventory of myself and have realized that a big

part of my personality, since my childhood, has been escape. Simply put, I am a

recovering avoider. I like to live in my head. Maybe it began as an attempt to

get away from my parents' constant arguments and bickering and my mother's

intrusiveness, smothering (and at the same time, lack of affection), maybe to

not face ugly things in my family, I don't know.

> >

> > I loved to imagine worlds in my mind where there was love, and romance, and

rescuing. I loved Harlequin novels and read as many as I could. I read ANYthing

just to not be where I was. Bottom line: I always wanted to be someone else and

somewhere else. I was very bad at relating to others. But inside me, that was

different. 

> >

> > I would create elaborate scenarios in my mind of me conquering crime and

falling in love with Batman (I was little, ok?!). As I got older, the need for

this kind of escapism would increase and I was no longer the leading lady. It

was usually some celebrity who was much prettier and thinner than me. Instead of

Batman, it was Lennon or Sting; but again, it was never me who was the

leading lady. I guess, even in my head, I wasn't good enough for the lead.

> >

> > Part of my escapism also involved lots and lots of food. I just wanted to

become numb to my surroundings and not have to engage with the reality of my

life. I was very lonely - no sleep overs, after school events, or friends

allowed at my house. My parents wouldn't allow it. I would shove in as much food

as I could: Twinkies, Suzy Qs, half a pack of hot dogs, a box of Corn Flakes and

a dozen donuts. 

> >

> > I was a latchkey kid and would fantasize in school about how many packs of

candy bars  I could pick up on the way home from school. Our neighborhood was

not the nicest. There was quite a bit of drug activity and other illegal stuff

going on in front of our apartment complex. I'm sure that was another reason for

my wanting to escape in any way possible from the reality of going home to an

empty apartment, knowing my parents, upon coming home from work, would either be

disengaged from one another and me, or be arguing with one another. I felt that

as long as I went unnoticed by them, it was good. Being noticed by them meant

being criticized, scrutinized, questioned, etc. Being invisible was good. Cue

the show in my head, and bring on 2 packs of Kit Kats, 2 Snickers, more Suzy Qs,

and a box of cookies.  My T at one point had asked me to talk to the child who

would come home on her own and who sat in front of the tv with little positive

human contact. I

> > just couldn't. Every time I would try, it was too painful. I didn't know

what to say to her.   

> >

> > My family moved when I was in my senior year in high school. Most kids would

have been distraught to be taken away from their high school and friends in

their last year (and I wasn't thrilled at first), but for me, it was fantastic!

I made new friends and since I was older and the neighborhood was better, my

parents were a little more ok with me being with my friends (just a little more

ok; not that much!). I was busy in school, busy applying to colleges, I was

happy! I lived away at college. I. Loved. It. For the first time in my life, I

felt free and happy and ok to be me. I had to hide how happy I was from my

mother, she was so distraught and freaked that I was leaving. I noticed how

scared and homesick my roommates were. Not me. I was in heaven! I didn't turn to

my silly inside performances or food (well, I did eat quite a bit; but it was

really more of that college social eating than anxiety eating). 

> >

> > So, I realize looking back that full life and full mind = less need for

self-soothing through fluffy fantasies and numbing amounts of food. 

> >

> > This fullness of life and mind carried on for ten years, up until after I'd

been married a while ...when the need for my MentalPeace Theater took hold

again. I loved being married to my husband (and am still married to my wonderful

man). He's one of the best people I know. I think I was wholly unprepared,

though, for marriage, for the compromises involved, for getting to know the

other person's moods, etc.  I did what I do when I'm faced with situations that

scare me and take me out of my comfort zone: I would hide, avoid,

compartmentalize, put it away somewhere in my mind where I could tuck it away,

the way someone else might blast the tv or radio to not have to hear some other

noise. And I would eat a lot.

> >

> > That's how it has worked for me until recently--a few months ago--when I

felt like I woke up from a fuzzy dream and realized I'm dreaming my life away,

that I'm not fully living a real life.  All my life, if I thought about

something pleasant involving a romantic situation, drama, tragedy, it would dull

my experience of an UNpleasant thing in my life that was taking place. It was a

mechanism that worked for me as a child but that I have been turning to as an

adult. As my kids grew older and I had to interact more with other people, it

terrified me and I noticed how difficult that was for me, how scary it was. It's

like a muscle I hadn't used in decades and now it was forced to be used

nonstop. 

> >

> > Finally after all these years of more of the same, of on and off of turning

to this childhood tool that comforted and soothed me through so much turmoil and

distress and fear and loneliness, I finally feel like God is saying, " when? when

will you put away this security blanket? it's no longer useful to you. You have

me now. I can comfort you and give you peace much more than your imaginings

can. "  

> >

> >

> > I can finally see how turning to this false form of temporary escape has

been directly connected to food and emotional eating for me. All these years, I

wondered....why? why do I eat so much? why do I turn to food FIRST the moment I

feel any distress or anger or just any feelings of any kind?? A big piece of the

puzzle was filled in when I really began to look back and take inventory of

myself. 

> >

> > I feel like I' m in recovery, aware of my weaknesses, of triggers that could

potentially set me off. I like myself much more. I like meeting new people more.

I definitely still need my personal space...but that's ok. 

> >

> > If you've read this far, thank you for listening to my story. I have not

shared this with any one really. I think it makes me sound really wacky and

coo-coo.  I'm glad to finally share it with you all and look forward to any

feedback, shared experience, etc.

> >

> > thanks,

> >

> > Fiona

> >

> >

[Guest guest]

Thanks you for sharing. As a child I loved books and puzzles which would allow

me to escape from reality. To this day, I can still escape for hours by reading

a novel, and when I am feeling stressed I will do a crossword puzzle.

> > >

> > > Hi everyone,

> > >

> > > I would like some feedback and to know if anyone else has gone through

this kind of experience.

> > >

> > > I've been taking a lot of inventory of myself and have realized that a big

part of my personality, since my childhood, has been escape. Simply put, I am a

recovering avoider. I like to live in my head. Maybe it began as an attempt to

get away from my parents' constant arguments and bickering and my mother's

intrusiveness, smothering (and at the same time, lack of affection), maybe to

not face ugly things in my family, I don't know.

> > >

> > > I loved to imagine worlds in my mind where there was love, and romance,

and rescuing. I loved Harlequin novels and read as many as I could. I read

ANYthing just to not be where I was. Bottom line: I always wanted to be someone

else and somewhere else. I was very bad at relating to others. But inside me,

that was different. 

> > >

> > > I would create elaborate scenarios in my mind of me conquering crime and

falling in love with Batman (I was little, ok?!). As I got older, the need for

this kind of escapism would increase and I was no longer the leading lady. It

was usually some celebrity who was much prettier and thinner than me. Instead of

Batman, it was Lennon or Sting; but again, it was never me who was the

leading lady. I guess, even in my head, I wasn't good enough for the lead.

> > >

> > > Part of my escapism also involved lots and lots of food. I just wanted to

become numb to my surroundings and not have to engage with the reality of my

life. I was very lonely - no sleep overs, after school events, or friends

allowed at my house. My parents wouldn't allow it. I would shove in as much food

as I could: Twinkies, Suzy Qs, half a pack of hot dogs, a box of Corn Flakes and

a dozen donuts. 

> > >

> > > I was a latchkey kid and would fantasize in school about how many packs of

candy bars  I could pick up on the way home from school. Our neighborhood was

not the nicest. There was quite a bit of drug activity and other illegal stuff

going on in front of our apartment complex. I'm sure that was another reason for

my wanting to escape in any way possible from the reality of going home to an

empty apartment, knowing my parents, upon coming home from work, would either be

disengaged from one another and me, or be arguing with one another. I felt that

as long as I went unnoticed by them, it was good. Being noticed by them meant

being criticized, scrutinized, questioned, etc. Being invisible was good. Cue

the show in my head, and bring on 2 packs of Kit Kats, 2 Snickers, more Suzy Qs,

and a box of cookies.  My T at one point had asked me to talk to the child who

would come home on her own and who sat in front of the tv with little positive

human contact. I

> > > just couldn't. Every time I would try, it was too painful. I didn't know

what to say to her.   

> > >

> > > My family moved when I was in my senior year in high school. Most kids

would have been distraught to be taken away from their high school and friends

in their last year (and I wasn't thrilled at first), but for me, it was

fantastic! I made new friends and since I was older and the neighborhood was

better, my parents were a little more ok with me being with my friends (just a

little more ok; not that much!). I was busy in school, busy applying to

colleges, I was happy! I lived away at college. I. Loved. It. For the first time

in my life, I felt free and happy and ok to be me. I had to hide how happy I was

from my mother, she was so distraught and freaked that I was leaving. I noticed

how scared and homesick my roommates were. Not me. I was in heaven! I didn't

turn to my silly inside performances or food (well, I did eat quite a bit; but

it was really more of that college social eating than anxiety eating). 

> > >

> > > So, I realize looking back that full life and full mind = less need for

self-soothing through fluffy fantasies and numbing amounts of food. 

> > >

> > > This fullness of life and mind carried on for ten years, up until after

I'd been married a while ...when the need for my MentalPeace Theater took hold

again. I loved being married to my husband (and am still married to my wonderful

man). He's one of the best people I know. I think I was wholly unprepared,

though, for marriage, for the compromises involved, for getting to know the

other person's moods, etc.  I did what I do when I'm faced with situations that

scare me and take me out of my comfort zone: I would hide, avoid,

compartmentalize, put it away somewhere in my mind where I could tuck it away,

the way someone else might blast the tv or radio to not have to hear some other

noise. And I would eat a lot.

> > >

> > > That's how it has worked for me until recently--a few months ago--when I

felt like I woke up from a fuzzy dream and realized I'm dreaming my life away,

that I'm not fully living a real life.  All my life, if I thought about

something pleasant involving a romantic situation, drama, tragedy, it would dull

my experience of an UNpleasant thing in my life that was taking place. It was a

mechanism that worked for me as a child but that I have been turning to as an

adult. As my kids grew older and I had to interact more with other people, it

terrified me and I noticed how difficult that was for me, how scary it was. It's

like a muscle I hadn't used in decades and now it was forced to be used

nonstop. 

> > >

> > > Finally after all these years of more of the same, of on and off of

turning to this childhood tool that comforted and soothed me through so much

turmoil and distress and fear and loneliness, I finally feel like God is saying,

" when? when will you put away this security blanket? it's no longer useful to

you. You have me now. I can comfort you and give you peace much more than your

imaginings can. "  

> > >

> > >

> > > I can finally see how turning to this false form of temporary escape has

been directly connected to food and emotional eating for me. All these years, I

wondered....why? why do I eat so much? why do I turn to food FIRST the moment I

feel any distress or anger or just any feelings of any kind?? A big piece of the

puzzle was filled in when I really began to look back and take inventory of

myself. 

> > >

> > > I feel like I' m in recovery, aware of my weaknesses, of triggers that

could potentially set me off. I like myself much more. I like meeting new people

more. I definitely still need my personal space...but that's ok. 

> > >

> > > If you've read this far, thank you for listening to my story. I have not

shared this with any one really. I think it makes me sound really wacky and

coo-coo.  I'm glad to finally share it with you all and look forward to any

feedback, shared experience, etc.

> > >

> > > thanks,

> > >

> > > Fiona

> > >

> > >