Soulshine

  Prior to recovery, I never thought I could be someone who made ME happy. How can someone who thinks he/she is a complete loser-- because they are so wounded deep down inside-- provide happiness for themselves? Impossible. The thought that I could be the "someone" who was going to make me happy never occurred to me. No. That was someone else's job. It was my job to find that person who was going to rescue me from my self-hatred and make me happy. Of course, everyone I ever assigned that job to failed miserably. Now, I know that it wasn't their job to make me happy. But back in the heyday of my codependent crazies, I had no clue-- no matter how many people failed to make me happy. I'd just lick my wounds and then go hunting for someone else to be responsible for making me loveable. Of course, I believed that I was also responsible for making them feel loveable and happy. The old cliche "I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine" fits an active codep

  It's one of THOSE days. I just feel miserable inside. I feel bluer than blue, but I can't cry--even though I feel the tears behind my eyes. I'd like to talk to someone, but I don't know who. I know this particular feeling. I've felt it a million times. It should be out of my system by now-- but it's not. I refer to it as the Parental Wound. Some people have Maternal Wounds, others have Paternal Wounds, but I have both. And this feeling is like a disease I just can't shake away, feel away or face away. I've tried and tried. I know we have to face feelings by FEELING them-- and allowing them to pass through us as they gradually wear themselves out. But this one never seems to be finally gone-- no matter how many times I face and feel it. And this makes me wonder if the feeling is a forever ghost from the past, or just a means of my being mean to myself-- when I have nothing else wrong in my life? Sure. I realize I'm lonely. I left the West Coast a ye