The picture above is an accurate representation of how my heart feels. When I was little, my mother made no secret of her negative feelings toward me. To her, I was a mistake that she should have aborted.
Later in childhood, she took me away from my aunt and great grandmother who I considered my moms. They took great care of me and seemed to make the days fun. Instead, I was not able to see either of them before they died. I hate that I could not have one more conversation with them.
Kids at school bullied me constantly. Going to school was torture. I knew that from the time the first bell rang until the time I arrived home, the other students were going to say hurtful and mean comments.
In high school, every girl seemed to have dates to dances. They had boyfriends or guys that liked them. I watched as they talked about going out with friends on the weekends. I was at home. It was like I could never seem to fit in no matter how much I tried.
My first marriage ended with me losing my three children and seeing them for less than 2 months of the year. Up until that time, I was a stay at home mon who took them to school, speech therapy, and was by their side when they needed surgery. After months of negotiations, I could not handle what was happening. I signed an agreement that I regret to this day.
Fast forward to my second marriage. Maybe I realized to late that it was falling apart. That he no longer wanted to spend time with me. Now, I have become a ghost in the house. Rarely having any communication.
How many more pieces can my heart be broken into? I am not sure how much more I can take and I am scared that I will do something stupid to relieve all of the feelings of abandonment that have been with me since I was a little girl.
Life is bad right now. My insurance does not have benefits for any long term care for my PTSD. I am struggling to tie memories and emotions together and struggling with safety. If I have to go into the hospital, it will be another bill that I cannot afford to pay.
My house seems like it is conspiring against me. The oven went up. The heat pump needs to be replaced or we will not have heating this winter. The other day I came into the room and noticed water on the blinds. Most likely the wood is rotten and needs to be replaced.
All of this has put so much strain on us. I am scared that we could lose our home if systems and large ticket items do not stop breaking down.
I am at a loss for how to get money, I am on a fixed income and can barely afford the essentials each month. The thought of selling my car comes to mind. Then I would not be able to get my kids or drive to therapy each week. Therapy is essential right now with my impulses the way they are.
I am hoping things get better, yet it feels as if I am being sucked into a black hole.
Over 10 years of therapy and relatively nothing has changed. Treatment resistant, medication resistant, unable to assist. All of those have been written on my paperwork.
I told my therapist the other day that I want to die, yet no way of dying is 100%. It has been suggested that I get out and join a club. I tried a book club. The book had to many triggers and the discussion was even worse. Child abuse, spousal abuse, and substance abuse were all a part of the book.
Then I am told to go out and do normal activities. I have panic attacks at the store that leave me frozen and feeling like the store is closing in around me. I always feel like I will be attacked at places that do not have many people around like gas stations. My vocal cords seem to freeze up when I want to ask for something.
I have resorted to buying things online. Even then, I do not answer the door when the doorbell rings because I am scared of who may be on the other side. I feel like people can tell I am damaged by the way that I shake and avoid eye contact.
Then there is the anger that can be activated at any time. This is not normal anger. I am afraid I will actually hurt someone else. Anything can set off the anger and once it begins I have trouble stopping.
Where is my place in society? What do I do if I cannot leave the house and am scared to hurt people? How do I perform everyday tasks while the space is closing in on me and I am shaking to the point of just wanting to sit and scream for help?
How do I begin to work through this? When are my thoughts not automatically going to go to not existing? Who am I ? All of these are questions that I need to answer, yet do not seem to know how.
My surgical wounds are almost entirely healed. I am finally able to do the things around the house like laundry. Tomorrow is my post operative appointment. Hopefully everything is fine and I will not have to go back.
I was supposed to have another procedure next month, yet I am putting it off until June. I am still trying to get used to the life changes after this procedure.
Mentally, I am not doing as well. It is hard to have to cut out so many foods from my diet. Cooking is triggering for me. I may have to start though. There are some easy recipes out there.
I still wake up in the morning with the cats and feed them. Then I cannot seem to keep my eyes open. I know that I should try to go for a walk or to the gym, yet I cannot seem to find the motivation. I also seem to be remembering more lately. Combined with the verification from my mother that I was really not wanted I think I just need some time to get my head around everything.
Part of me just needs to accept life as it is and stop worrying about everything that I have lost. I also need to stop worrying about if the kids will decide not to come over. That is not something that I can control.
Life is challenging for everyone. Right now I need to get through some things. My oldest child is still not communicating with me. His siblings share what has been going on. I miss talking to him and seeing him. Pretty soon he will be an adult and maybe he will contact me then.
My other kids seem to be holding their heads above water. The problem is that I feel they are just treading water and are not as stable as I would like them to be.
A change in income has occurred for the worst. I am worried about losing our home and how we will get by. I am also worried about my husband. He is strong, yet there is only so much one person can take.
On top of it all I need to find new health insurance. That is stressful. There is so much information out there. Again, my issues are nothing compared to others. I guess it is because it is all happening at the same time.
For some people fitting in is easy. They can talk about their jobs and kids. They can have a “normal ” conversation.
Then there is me and some others like me out there. I have spent time in mental hospitals and have more than one diagnosis. Due to my mental illness and my ex’s expensive lawyer, I lost custody of my kids. That is public record along with the fact that he gets child support.
I have had parents at a rec council question my ability to complete my job. Then every little detail seems to be magnified. Even when I went to school for social work, it was discouraged to try to be placed in a child welfare setting.
Then there is my PTSD. Any drug test showed the medications that I am on. One reason that I wanted to become a social worker was to help others navigate the health care system. Instead of seeing that as a positive , I was called into the head of the school systems social work program and told that I was not a good fit for the job.
After beginning my internship, my supervisor seemed to use any occasion to bring up my illness. Going as far as to accuse me of diagnosing my clients. After only three days at that internship, the principal stated that he did not want me in his school. I no longer had an internship. All of the work that I had done for the classes requiring that I be in an internship was worthless.
It got worse when I heard that I would have to go through a hearing just to see if I could continue at the school. The stress became to much to bear and I opted to take a medical leave.
That leaves me with the question of what do I do now? I cannot stand for long periods and could not complete nursing school. People do not want a teacher who has lost custody of her kids. A social work program turned my PTSD into something horrible instead of helpful.
Right now I feel lost as to what to do with my life. I wish that society accepted mental illness, yet most do not. I wish that I could tell my experience and others like me to Congress and have them realize that there are those of us with mental illnesses that can be productive members of society if given the chance. Right now, I think that most feel that people like me belong locked up for society’s safety. Things have to change.
I have finally moved. It is so quiet and the people are so different. They do not seem to be in a constant rush to get things done. Today I am scared because I have no choice but to go out of the house until we have working appliances.
I did not tell my abusers where I was moving. There was some disagreement among parts , yet in the end it was best to just leave all of the physical reminders of the trauma behind.
Not that it helps with the mental piece of the trauma. It is still there. I will be so happy when the house is relatively moved into and I can begin to write and complete art projects again.
The visitation with the kids is going as well as I expected. There is no agreement. In fact, he wants to take visitation away. That is not ok with me. It looks like court may be in the future.
It is nice being in a place where I have a chance for a fresh start. I need to get to know the neighbors. That will be a challenge along with the crazy hours that my husband works during the week. He has been able to get a lot accomplished this weekend.
My next post will most likely be tomorrow since the internet and some of the house is worked out.
Packing up somewhere sounds like it will be easy. Then the packing begins, and all of these old memories come up. Suddenly, things that have not been seen have meaning. The house actually becomes more of a mess as trash is separated from keep. Then, there is the I have no idea pile. At least I know that progress is being made.
I overreacted with my daughter yesterday. She was playing with all of the other kids. There was an adult around who reminded me of the past and freaked me out. I yelled at my daughter to come sit by where I was. I cannot explain the panic and fear that took over me in that moment. I do not ever want her to have negative experiences if I can prevent it.
Maybe I have been through to much and have done to much research. A person can still be a pedophile if they have kids or if they are older. There is not just one description. I do not care if they are at the same party, a background check was not done to get into the party and something could happen.
Luckily, my daughter and I had a productive talk last night about the incident and I assured her that it was nothing that she did.
Today means more packing and getting the house ready for pictures. Should be a busy day.
My husband and I are looking to move. If I were “normal”, I would have a job and income to use for the paperwork. Unfortunately, my PTSD symptoms are not controlled. I still have panic attacks around people and places that I do not know. My short term memory is messed up. I swear that is from the ECT.
And then there is the feeling of anger that I try to suppress each day so that I can at least get through the day.
Because of the complications from my mental illness, we may just have to stay where we are and I am going to have to learn to be ok with that. It just sucks that I am such a large part of the problem.
Some people would bring up getting damages from my abusers, yet the statute of limitations has passed. It still makes me feel like I am limited each day due to the symptoms of my illness.
No one chooses to be abused as a child or suppress those memories. Yet, it seems like we are blamed when we cannot hold a job or function as everyone else does. We fought a fight that we did not choose, yet we get blamed. Why didn’t you just tell someone or why did you not move out. I wish it were that easy. If I would have told, things would have been much worse. I was frozen for so long. I just did as they said to not rock the boat. It was not really a choice, it was a way to get through each day with the least amount of pain.
I just wish recovery would happen sooner. It just seems to take so long and involve so many aspects of my life. I just have to do what I can. Keep going to the doctors and seeing my therapist. One step at a time!
My therapist has a new goal for me: to say hello to people at counters and restaurants. I have become an expert at being invisible over the years. It has led to not having friends and isolating myself inside the house.
I like the house, it is safe and I feel comfortable. I feel like a freak outside. My scars are so noticeable from all of the self harm. I am going to try to have one removed or at least decrease the size.
Therapy is going ok. My therapist and I have come to the realization that my feelings are buried so far down, they may never come up. We are working on trying to feel in the present. That is hard as well. I am used to shutting down.
Right now I am just trying to take one day at a time and know that I did the best that I could each night before I go to sleep.
Maybe I will be able to make friends. There is always hope!