Heidi's Story

The tragedy of trauma and the miracle of recovery

Heidi's Story

As I sit down to write this, the tragedy of my childhood and the self-destructive path it laid out before me, I sense deep emotion within my strong heart. I’ve done many layers of healing work to be able to look upon my past as a caring and compassionate observer, without my PTSD triggering panic and shame. Just as valuable is my resilience to sit with the truth not needing to minimize or deny it.

It was horrible.

It’s over. I survived.

It's finally over now that I have healed a generous amount of the residual effects of imprinted trauma. It was technically over when I became an adult, but even well into my 40’s I was still living as a survivor, not knowing how to take back my happiness and truly live. I spent decades crippled emotionally and mentally in my own cycling prison of shame and pain, denial and avoidance, addiction and self-abandonment. Finding momentary reprieve only to relieve the pain of betrayal, shame and fear over and over again.

Home: Headliner

Today, I am free.

Today, I accept myself.

Today, I honor myself.

Only Love can do that.

Only the Heart can change us.

Recovery is not for the weak-hearted. The journey of reclaiming your soul from trauma starts with the courage to uncover the memories of your own personal holocaust.

To uncover the precious You before you were splintered into a thousand little pieces.
To uncover the truth of the wrecking balls that destroyed your life.
To uncover the blueprint of how you adapted to endure life as a result.
That blueprint holds the key to rebuilding your genuine self and releasing what’s not the real you.

The mind is brilliant! It hides reality until we are safe and strong enough to face it without destroying what’s left of our faith and innocence. It was a long road for me to get ready to valiantly carry the torch of generational trauma from my lineage, and an even longer trek to restore my life to its healthy, natural state of well-being, joy and self-love.

When Codependence Was Born

As a young child, I remember having that well-being within my family, especially in my mother’s loving arms. I joyfully immersed myself in connection, play, touch, learning, and togetherness. I was happy to feel my parents and sisters always around me…living…doing…being. But my parents were both severely wounded and shame-based trauma survivors.

They had escaped their own dysfunctional homes and had continued the cycle of a fantasy-based, co-addicted, enmeshed relationship. Their dysfunction became the blueprint of my life. As my parents cycled through their own hidden codependence and addictions, and struggled to survive their own shame, codependence progressed intensely, with the added stress and triggers of a new family. Children trigger parent’s unhealed wounds, especially when they reach the age of the traumatic events. So the older we became, the more of their childhood shame was triggered, and not knowing how to resolve it, it just added to the boiling cauldron of toxic shame we called Home.

They suffered from alcoholism, fantasy addiction, love addiction/avoidance, sex-addiction, co-sex-addiction, religious addiction, food addiction and workaholism. Parenting is hard work, but it’s impossible when you have no foundation of self-love within and your life is spent chasing any kind of fleeting relief in the substitute forms of pleasure, success, control or distraction. My parents were always trying to medicate their shame with fantasies, but when us kids would get in the way of their ‘fix’, their shame would become rage, control, punishment and threats. It didn’t feel like we were taught how to do life, just punished when we were doing it ‘wrong’. I didn’t realize this was neglect, since I always felt that neglect was being ignored. And ‘wrong’ was whatever triggered their shame on a given day, so it wasn’t an obvious or consistent set of rules or values.

Even as a young child, I felt confused, because my reason for being was to be ‘a good girl’, but that was a moving target. So one trauma at a time, I learned to live on crumbs, walk on eggshells and abandon myself to feel safe and my codependence was born.

Navigating a dysfunctional family

I learned that:

It was bad to want or need things.
Feelings are dangerous and would only lead to getting in trouble.
To be loved you had to be good and do it right.
Rules didn’t apply to the parents, only to the children.
Sex was the most important thing in a marriage, but we were supposed to say that it’s love.
If you care about yourself, you are bad, and if you care about others you are good.
It was very dangerous to be angry and that I should be careful asking questions and never, never ever challenge authority.
If I was proud I should hide it.
That there was no such thing as fair.
When I was in pain it was usually my fault.
If I hoped for something and it didn’t happen it meant I didn’t deserve it.
It was always my job to not be stupid and to figure things out.

I learned to lie to myself so the truth didn’t hurt so much. I learned how to fix my shame and emotional pain by trying to be perfect. I learned how to take care of mom and dads feelings and needs to be loved. I learned that gifts came with a high price and promises felt good for a minute, but they rarely were kept and that was my fault too. I learned that it felt better to whip myself than be whipped by others. I learned that God only cares about you if you don’t care about yourself. I learned that being in my mind was far safer than in my body. I learned to lock away the real me and pretend I was who others wanted me to be. I learned to pretend so much that I forgot I was pretending.

Eventually I only vaguely remembered the other me, the authentic me who carried the shame. I would remember her when I was in trouble, fearful, abandoned and ashamed, being reminded once again that despite all my trying, I would never be enough. I pitied her and hated her. I hated being me.

I learned to never, never, ever admit who I really was.

Entering another abuse cycle

As I grew up, I became deeply entrenched in my parent’s toxic marriage and trauma bonded to them both. I felt responsible for fixing their relationship, the family and keeping the Titanic afloat. Incest began at age 13 and my father began grooming me with attention, affection and alcohol. He went from avoiding and criticizing me to adoring and appreciating me. He had ultimate power over me, as I had no resistance after years of receiving his violent raging wrath and shaming tirades, coupled with the emotional starvation for a father’s love and approval.

He selfishly coerced and molded my already submissive, obedient behavior towards molest with intoxicated, boundaryless sexual conversations, often villainizing my mother and sisters while favoring me, often creating a victim backstory of his own wounded soul that I, alone, could understand. I was gaslighted and brainwashed into believing that he loved me, we were soulmates, and that our love was greater than any earthly laws or boundaries. This, coupled with the terror of his underlying rage, forced me to submit to the sexual abuse and he took my virginity at age 14, convincing me that it was a consensual relationship. I developed Stockholm syndrome and became very compliant and even conspired in my own abuse to give him what he wanted and protect his interests.

My psychosis to love and care for him to not risk his anger and abandonment was interrupted regularly with emotional breakdowns, threats of suicide and fantasies of running away or my mother rescuing me. But eventually, he would beat me down into submission with threats of violence, committing suicide, abandoning me, burning down the house or whatever he could. Then, when I was weak and beaten, he would cry and coerce me back into the fantasy with love bombing and promises of happily ever after. I would hide in that fantasy for a while, avoiding the guilt and shame of being a slut and betraying my mother. It was a horrible nightmare I lived in for 5 years. I was his heroin and he couldn’t live without me.

That was my introduction to love.

There was no way to escape the chaos except to numb, avoid or deny with alcohol, workaholism and fantasy. So my fantasy world became a fantasy addiction, vacillating between elaborate escape plans and far-fetched justification of my Dad’s complete exploitation of my heart, mind and soul. I also used workaholism, obsession and bulimia as drugs, so when one fantasy stopped working, I’d just pick up another, repeat and recycle. Never realizing that I was becoming a hostage to my own mental patterns of self-deception and sabotage, fueled by fear of abandonment and deep shame.

A new beginning of more pain

At age 19, the spell was finally broken. I met a guy, fell in love and finally realized that what my Father was doing was molest. With my newfound courage, I ran away, we got married and I thought that I had finally escaped! The relief was short lived however, as the PTSD began to surface and the intimacy wounds and emotional immaturity turned my first real love into a toxic co-addicted relationship. I was needy, then helpless, blaming, victim, one-up/one-down, worshiping, rescuing and sometimes cycling through any way to change how I felt. I would control him to make him not leave me, but also fantasize about running away. I was doing what I was taught to do and what my family had done to me.

My mind was not my friend but it continued to connive and use desperate measures to control my feelings. Even when I went to counseling, I used my victimhood to justify my manipulative behaviors, emotional neediness and the push/pull of co-addiction. ‘My fault...Your fault’ was a common theme, as well as love-bombing and epic dramatic demands for love and attention. Eventually threats of divorce heightened the intensity of our cycles which, unbeknownst to either of us, were the product of our unhealed childhood trauma. We had a son when I was 22 and I hoped that this new identity and purpose as a mother would change things, but though we both tried hard to create a happy home, we were too codependent.

Eventually my fantasy addiction led me to start obsessing about another man I worked with and before I realized what was happening, I was having an affair at age 27. To medicate the shame, my drinking progressed, and I renewed my old accomplices, Denial and Justification. My love and co-sex addiction were further developed as I secretly created a happily ever after fantasy about a man I hardly knew, while I avoided the ‘real’ man at home who loved me, simply because he no longer 'fixed' my feelings. I proceeded to divorce my husband under the delusion that he wasn’t ‘right for me’ so that I could pursue my obsession. The guilt of divorce and breaking the trauma bond with my husband progressed my addictions even further. When my object of obsession stopped wanting to see me, my world started to crumble and I started doing drugs, adding another level of intensity to my already volatile roller-coaster.

On my child custody off-weeks, I would go out to get high on drugs and have fantasies of meeting someone, but instead ended up in a cycle of re-abusing myself with one-night stands and degrading promiscuity. So my fantasy about a ‘magical night’ ended in hopeless shame-spirals, sick and coming down, curled up in the fetal position, hating myself and hoping I didn’t have a disease or that the creep didn’t steal my rent money. But after the smoke cleared, I defended my addictions with the justification that I had my childhood stolen and never got to date before, so I continued down the bleak path of codependency and addiction, telling myself I was within my rights to finally do something for me.

Then I met the DOC to end all DOCs (btw, that stands for Drug Of Choice) and immediately, my soul-mate fantasy addiction was reactivated. After a handful of meth-induced, enmeshed, boundaryless, overnighters with phrases like, “…never met anyone like you” and “…I could never not adore you”, I was trauma-bonded again and the rest is history. He was a long-time player and said all the right things and kept the focus on me. I had never been pursued so vigilantly (diabolically) but like my excuse said, I had never dated, so I didn’t know the dangers. My poor head said I had finally found the one that made sense of all that I had been through before. That all that I’d been through was just getting me ready for this. I didn’t realize how true that was, but not like I thought. Instead of the story that our love would pull both of us out of our addicted, miserable lives, the chaos quickly escalated, my addictions escalate and within a year I barely recognized myself. The betrayal and emotional abandonment triggered all my childhood abuse and I became schizophrenic, homeless, jobless, and drug addicted. I was arrested, abandoned my son, lost my mind and thankfully, my pride. Finally, desperate and in pain, I prayed for something…anything to help me, or help me end it. The miracle that unfolded was next level grace as I hit bottom with the drugs and became willing to change. I received the divine gift of protection from my sick self as the path to recovery opened up before me. I’d finally had enough. Through attending addiction 12-step meetings I was clean and started to piece my life back together. Slowly I got my son back, my house back, my mind back…and my codependence back.

Experiencing another fantasy/love addiction cycle

As always, fantasy addiction was my go-to and I began to desperately pray for God to get my soulmate (DOC) clean too so we could be together. The intensity of this fantasy medicated my whole life…the shame of my addiction, my failed marriage, my broken family, my sexual abuse … all the way back to my core shame as a ‘bad little girl’. Finally…FINALLY it would all make sense, be put right. I just had to get him to see and get clean. I fervently prayed that he would hit bottom and come back to me. My fantasy was that once he and I were clean, there was no stopping our love! The fantasy masked the pain of my real life and transformed it into a magical fairytale that could be honored in a story of love conquers all. It turned my whole tragic life into a drama of sacrifice for the greater good, and buried the shameful feelings deep inside.

As my obsession for my DOC secretly grew, I proceeded to live a sober life and got healthier over the next couple years. When my DOC reached out for support to quit using, I was certain that God was answering my prayers, and with that evidence in hand, my love and fantasy addiction flourished. Over the next six years in recovery there were great strides in my faith, my emotional stability and my ability to live in reality. But I was always still searching for my safety through my DOC’s love and commitment.

The relationship drama escalated and intensified with multiple breakups, but I would always relapse and brilliantly justify it. After I’d been clean for 5 years I was in a near-fatal car accident in which I sustained a broken neck and traumatic brain injury. In my further compromised state, despite my doubts, I agreed to get married and have his child. The feeling and knowing that things weren’t quite right was medicated with my happily ever after fantasy once again. The truth finally showed up a couple years later, when we had started counseling to work on the marriage. In the counselor’s office, he disclosed the truth of his sex addiction and infidelity as my heart and soul sunk into a black hole. Stunned and shocked, the painful and hopeless desperation of love addiction withdrawal consumed me.

I found myself walking a tightrope over suicidal ideation and frantic attempts to create another fantasy that would put the wrapper back on over my lifetime of pain, shame and fear. With no relief in sight, I went through the motions of trying to save the marriage, getting divorced and starting my life over…again.

The final bottom

Again?

Why was this happening…again?

What was I doing wrong?

Why did God hate me?

How could I possibly try again when there was nothing left of me but a pile of aching, broken wreckage. And yet I was able (with God’s help) to face one miserable day at a time, sometimes finding the willingness solely from the dire need to make sense of what the hell was wrong with me. I got a recovery makeover, started going to codependency 12-step meetings and began walking down the long, lonely, painful tunnel of love addiction withdrawal. I began the deeper dive of reclaiming my ‘self’ from love addiction, trauma, incest and codependence, not knowing if I’d make it out on the other side or if the life I found myself in would even be worth living.

It was messy. I blamed everyone. I took two steps forward and one step back. I denied, justified and raged and in the end, I stayed and fought for my recovery. Over time, I learned to fight me less and fight FOR me more. I learned surrender was my best ally and it allowed for more progress and less pain. I learned the healing came in layers, in waves, in crisis and that my job was mostly just to hang on and keep going. I learned that I wasn’t broken, only wounded and that, with the help of God and others, I could heal myself, my feelings, my thinking and my life. I learned to face the truth of my trauma to reclaim my inner child and reveal my authentic self. I learned about my fantasy addiction and how I used it to survive, which also perpetuated the insanity and terror of my youth.

I learned that life wasn’t against me, but was actually safe and the problem was my trauma and the codependency that I used to survive it. I learned that I could not afford to let my parents off the hook with excuses, but that I could hold them responsible, heal the shame and forgive. I learned that everything I did (housework, bills, groceries, friendships, vacations, etc.) was tainted with shame and I had to learn how to care for my life instead of fix my shame. I learned to tolerate reality, feel my feelings and be in my body. I learned to become emotionally resilient, cultivate self esteem and remodel my shame-based identity. I learned that I was valuable, loveable and precious and that the only way for me to be sane and happy was for me to believe that. I learned to forgive myself, accept myself, like myself and take care of myself instead of looking for someone else to do that for me.

The healing journey of recovery

I learned how to get my brain back on line and that I could begin to trust it again, learn to manage my chronic fear and create sustainable happiness. I learned how to heal my perfectionism and love myself unconditionally so I could be free from attracting inauthentic love or toxic relationships. I learned to create an inner sanctuary of love, safety and well-being which allows my heart to flourish, invites rich relationships with others and is the foundation of my healthy and purposeful life. There is a stillness and strength now I’ve never known, but it’s been hiding there all along behind the chaos and the pain.

I learned to never, ever, ever give up on myself.

I learned that I am the answer to my prayers.

I learned that I am the white knight of my enchanted story.

I learned that I am the one that I’ve been waiting for all my life.

The Freedom of Today

Life is so very different today. So much fulfillment surrounds me and I indulge in life’s generosity. Love is abundant through the healthy relationships I create as I continue my healing, recovery journey. I have a beautiful relationship with myself, strong connections with my children and amazing friendships. My partnership relationships continue to heal and strengthen me as I practice healthy new ways to love without giving myself away. Joy is always within reach as I am deeply committed to my own well-being and happiness. I have a soulful passion for hiking, backpacking, nature and wildlife. I am no longer a victim, or on hold waiting for my ‘real’ life to start. Sure, there are still pieces of my history that come up and areas that still need work. But now that I love myself, have great tools and have learned how to live from my heart, it is a pleasure, not a burden, to take care of me and my life.

What a gift it is from here to look back at those painful younger years with compassion and understanding instead of shame and regret. I see the younger me through the wisdom and love built on so many years of bottoms, breakdowns, breakthroughs, heartbreaks, awakenings, dead-ends, fresh-starts, black holes and miracles, not to mention blood, sweat and tears. Life has touched me, changed me, molded me, evolved me.

Today I know life is my friend and has been there with me all along the trail, calling me back to the truth of who I really am.

My trauma is no longer me.

It is the mountain that I climbed to realize and reclaim the amazing person that I am.

I am Free

I am Safe

My life is mine

The world is mine.

Of course I wish things would’ve been different…..

…and…

I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant giving up the richness and depth of my own becoming.

My Prayer for You

I pray that your courageous hero’s journey leads you to your own inner sanctuary…so that you can delight in knowing your own magnificence.

Heidi Anderson

Heidi's Story

Heidi's Story

When Codependence Was Born

Navigating a dysfunctional family

Entering another abuse cycle

A new beginning of more pain

Experiencing another fantasy/love addiction cycle

The final bottom

Again?

The healing journey of recovery

The Freedom of Today

My Prayer for You