Need something for anxiety?

Hi Team,

As you are aware from the below message, its been tough the last week.

Why am I writing to you? Because I’m determined to know what’s preventing me from living life.

Part of Belen leaving was the lack of awareness on my part, to notice her, our children and do something economically, while moving forward seeking justice for the why.....

Belen came home last night, we fought in the afternoon and I nearly vomited as I watched the only person who made me feel safe since 10 years old walk away.

How many complexes can one person have at 41?

The answers seem to me anyway, clearer. I am afraid. I’m afraid of losing her, afraid of not being heard and afraid that should I talk no one will listen anyway. And afraid if I do it will create more pain and suffering each day. Now its complicated. I haven’t been able to see a future since from memory 15…. The future was only golf, as anything else seemed irrelevant. As what pulled me through the trauma I was enduring in silence was the belief that Golf would set me free of him. And I was good at it. Its part of why I believe anyway, that he used this one talent to manipulate me into believing if I would achieve that, I needed him. And must do as he says as look at his independence. 

How wrong I was. I feel like shit every day because I believed in a monster. And felt I must suffer his abuse because it was the only way to be free of him.

What is the cure to fear?

Oh how I wish I believed the answer. As the answer doesn’t seem real.

When I rang for help around the house on Wednesday or Thursday at ACC, I was told a case manager would call me back. I waited, waited, waited and then got angry. Angry that my life really is irrelevant to the very system set up to save lives.

Now it’s a complex, A complex about me. That has burned from childhood in silence, and the more conscious I became the more anger developed towards others there to help. As I needed real help, and couldn’t talk or ask for it. 

Belen is home. We are separating, and Belen wants to move onto other healthy relationships. And I can’t feel anything but resentment, pain, anger and betrayal. And loss for me. That even in seeking justice, finally sober and in crisis. That its still not enough.

So I get it, how does a wife who fought for years to save you get you talking and living survive on nothing, begging for help, begging for answers to even the man who abused me. And to be told by that abuser, to take my children and go back to Argentina and get as far away as possible from me because I’m trouble. 

Talking about the isolation I feel is terribly hard, as I don’t believe its relevant in any capacity. How can the person who did unthinkable things to me be asked, why? Or provide a version.

So I went to the gym the last few days, tired, worn down, financially broke and low and cycled for me. I love my wife, yet my actions say otherwise. Belen feels controlled even by a process that feels hopeless and soul destroying for me, her and the 3 children.

I don’t want to control anyone. I don’t want to look like him, smell like the old spice that used to linger over me. I just want to break free of the belief humanity doesn’t really care even if the evidence to crimes to me exist. My silence for so long has played out in the brothels, drug dens and believing in all the wrong people who said they would help.

I have learned that I can love and feel love. I don’t want to lose the only person or 3 persons who joined my life 3 weeks after running from the monster to New Zealand where I had no life growing up, and knew nobody but a few extended family and another abuser from childhood who I felt was going to save me too.

Have applied for a couple of jobs and will try to explain to someone that I am kind, bright and deserve an opportunity to provide for my family while I continue to advocate for justice, and also highlight the injustice through sharing the stories of the men and women of the Innocence project.

I am humiliated this morning, in the afternoon and evening. I don’t deserve to run, struggle or pretend to a society to be someone I’m not. I’m a survivor, and I am brave as shithouse to still be walking and sober.

God Bless






Shop now