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I had lost my parents. My childhood memories<br />
felt tarnished. Meanwhile, the rest of my<br />
friends were living their best lives at college<br />
while I struggled to survive.<br />
Did I ask for help? Did I let others into<br />
my world of pain and inner turmoil? No! I<br />
needed to stay ‘the man of the house’. Act<br />
tough, put on a brave face, and impress<br />
others with my resilience. I turned to alcohol<br />
a lot. It temporarily numbed the pain. I was<br />
that obnoxious, loud friend, always up for<br />
another beer. I lied to myself that this is who<br />
I was and wanted to be.<br />
In 2010, I met my future husband, my knight<br />
in shining armour. I could never understand<br />
why he loved me or wanted to be with me.<br />
I felt like I wasn’t worthy of him, and that<br />
he could do so much better than me. As<br />
such, I only allowed him to see the tip of the<br />
iceberg of my pain. I feared that my complete<br />
openness might chase him away. I had already<br />
lost too much to lose again.<br />
This hurt eventually turned into anger. My<br />
perspective soured as the years went along.<br />
I was bitter at the world, at my family, at life<br />
I began to embrace vulnerability;<br />
I felt empowered each time I let<br />
my guard down<br />
for handing me this unfair deck of cards. My<br />
loving relationship with my husband grew tense.<br />
Bickering progressed into arguments and tears,<br />
usually as a result of my abusive relationship<br />
with alcohol. I turned to beer to escape my pain<br />
and insecurities, while still masquerading as a<br />
happy-go-lucky guy.<br />
In 2020, I bottomed out. My weight and selfrespect<br />
reached an all-time low. My drinking<br />
and frustration hit an all-time high. My husband<br />
expressed his concerns, and in this moment of<br />
weakness, something awoke in me. He opened<br />
my eyes to the pain and hurt in my childhood,<br />
and the damage I was doing to myself now.<br />
He recognised my pain and, in a move of<br />
independence, I did too. I realised I was broken.<br />
I ached. I needed help. The following Monday,<br />
I called my doctor and started my road to<br />
recovery. I began working through personal<br />
issues with my therapist, who helped me better<br />
understand my anxious and OCD thoughts, thus<br />
enabling me to address my disordered eating.<br />
38 | September <strong>2021</strong> | <strong>happiful</strong>.com