I keep trying to write.

I keep trying to write, the words make no sense.....

I'm living in an abyss of raw emotion. I am having difficulty finding reason. There seems to be no balance. I have tried to learn, put up boundaries, only to have them collapse. I find it impossible to be strong where I need to be. I spent 3 days in the same cloths, the guilt of doing so made sure the dishes were done and the floor was clean. I crawl my way out of bed to let the dogs out and feed the fish, only because they can't fend for themselves. I don't really care. My head is filled with numbing cotton at the same time it is spinning  fast enough to take flight. I think I know where the problems lay and what I need to do....or do I? Same as alcohol; I couldn't imagine my life without it, now  there are things in my life that are even more seductive that I can't imagine my life without. If it is hurting me, why would I want it. Is it because I enjoy the pain? Am I so conditioned to accept pain and misery as my cross to bear that I welcome it? Rebecca wrote, I teared up, actually had a tear on my cheek. First time that has happened in years. Then it was over. Living with a lump in my throat has become my normal. I don't have enough energy to be angry, I don't have enough energy for much of anything.
My poor kitties know something is up, have tolerated the dogs to get to my lap. I don't know where to go from here or how to get there.

Here I am now whining in print. I hurt so badly it has to go somewhere. I had a dream or rather nightmare the other night that was a recurring dream I had for years when I first confronted my family with my abuse. It is violent, demeaning, tragic, and more memory than dream. I used to be looking from the outside in. Now I am looking from the inside trying to see out. The cave I reside in, is deep and dark. I spent many years flooding it with drink, I don't know how to find my way out.