Triggers

There are many good days anymore.  However, once in a while, there are some doozies, that end up turning into more than a day, but weeks.  There are events that happen to cause unwanted effects.  Mine are in the form of panic attacks, or anxiety if you will.  Many times, it's outright fear.

I went to a specialized group for abused women and learned many things.  I, along with some of the other girls, couldn't figure out why random emotions would hit.  We would have a good week, then BAM, complete devastation in one way or another.

The past week and a half have been that way.  Not sure exactly what triggered the emotions, but it apparently was enough to cause some issues.

I don't mind when people ask what happened, or what the abuse was.  However, there were so many instances of so many different natures, that it's hard to pinpoint it down to one instance.  For example, someone could touch me, and it would send me spinning into the reactions of a previous event.  Although, it takes a while to pinpoint exactly what the event was.  It's blocked somehow from memory, and all you know is the reaction you have, even though it doesn't make sense.  There are times that it happens with someone you love, and you can't figure out why it would happen.  The reaction doesn't make sense........

This week, I think it's time for another trip to my therapist to try to sort it out.  Another step of healing is apparently in the works, and demanding attention.

Families are Forever and other fun trials...

A year ago, I had taken most of my family out of my life. Not out of malice or hate, I just couldn't deal with everything that was going on in life, and watch their interactions, too.

A neighbor was sending hate mail once again. Why? Who knows? I think I had the privilege of being the lucky one to receive their jealousy, anger, and judgement. Over the past couple of years, I've been accused of everything, from being an adulterer, a hussy, selling myself online, a bad parent, a horrible yard keeper, and the others went unread. However, I'm sure the local police station got a kick out of them, since the writer chose to use a typewriter and be anonymous. I only chose to take them in, since I'm not the only one who receives them, and would feel horrible if someone decided to end their life due to the absolute brutality of them.

At the same time, my own mother decided to disown me, my boyfriend at the time decided monogamy and honesty were too difficult to maintain, someone hacked into my computer/broke into my house to download things onto my laptop, my children started anxiety attacks over going to school every morning, I was trying to get into the local university, we all had swine flu, I had a horrible illness on top of that, lost 10 pounds and had a fever for a month, and still had to live life normally.

I think I lost my mind for a while, or at least my Bishop thought I was going to, since he had me coming in for sanity checks quite a bit. One of my brother's happened to call on a not good day, and got the brunt of what was happening. He came over and changed my locks and helped me with some safety measures for windows. I was relieved, but still was paranoid. Another day, my dad decided to call and start in with his smart remarks, luckily I was delirious with fever so I got away with telling him EVERYTHING that was going on and he actually had some sympathy. My other brother called and thought I was insane, however he understood why.

Why opt to remove my family? Because of a lot of reasons:

The ones who could do something, wouldn't. And the ones who would do something, were too far away to do anything.

I think it was the most devastatingly LONELY time in my life. I've never felt so alone... NO ONE could help me do anything. No one could come over, for fear of getting sick. I had a couple neighbors who brought us dinner, and a couple who helped with laundry, which I am grateful for. However, I couldn't allow the young women to come and help with cleaning my house. If my suspicions on who wrote hate mail to me were correct, then they would be questioned when they got home, and I'd receive even more. It wasn't fair to them and I wasn't in the frame of mind to deal with more... life.

I couldn't handle all the dysfunction that had come out into the open. I was tired of feeling the odd man out in a family that I was apart of, but had always wished I was in. When it came down to it, I was on my own from the beginning, and I had just realized it. It was a difficult pill to swallow and completely unfair. I loved them so much, and yet, wasn't a part of their lives in the way I wanted to be.

Now that I'm learning more about love, the walls are coming down, bit by crumbling bit. I'm crying more than I did. I'm feeling more than I did. I'm able to actually think I might be ok to be around them and let them in.

More baby steps..............

Deep Thoughts...... or maybe just semi-deep... :)

Children are made to be loved, adored, and cherished. There are far too many who aren't. I used to have such intense pain at the thought of not having that. I fear for my own children, who desperately need it, and I feel they get it from me to the best of my ability. I read a blog tonight about a child who was "broken" by his father. It broke my heart. I thought about my own life, and my parenting abilities. Then I thought about all of the amazing examples I've had in my life about HOW to be a family and what NOT to do.

It's funny how just when you think you are doing great, reality comes and you find the flaws in your abilities. Tonight, after the article, I know I'm not perfect, BUT I also hope that my children know how much I love them.

I can honestly say I do my best to be the best mom to them. I do the best with the talents and abilities I've been given. I say abilities, because I've been having some health issues lately. My poor children have had to grow up a bit and help out. It's sad. It depresses me. I wish it were better and that they could stay children. The inevitable has to happen though. They have to grow up. :(

I'm proud of all that they accomplish. I'm proud to call them my own. I'm proud of the fact that I spend more time with them than anyone else. I'm proud that I have a job that allows me to take them to work with me and spend even more time with them. I'm proud that THEY are proud of me for my accomplishments, big or small. (They're also proud of my faults.) :)

I've been blessed beyond measure, and I'm so thankful for my Father in Heaven who has allowed me to have these angels in my life to guide me to being a better person. I'm learning more and more what true love is all about and the different levels it has. I'm finally learning that my Father loves me...... and I'm feeling it.

Life is hard, it even sucks rocks sometimes.... I'm glad I have my angels to help me remember that it's worth it. I'm glad I have a cabana boy who helps me remember my worth.

Life is good......... and I'm thankful for the humbling moments that remind me of that.

Love................ What's that?

So I've met the man of my dreams. I know, I know, is it real? Well, I hope so. However, a friend of mine told me that considering my background, she feels that I don't know what it's like to be loved and feel loved. Another friend told me to stop sabotaging it!

Oh yeah! I'd forgotten! I'm in CULTURE SHOCK!

Actually, I never forget, although to be truly loved, or even semi truly loved, is something of a culture shock. Kind of like Annie when she's in the Orphanage. She's a tough cookie and protects everyone, while earning their love and respect. When Daddy Warbucks' assistant rescues her, she looks around the mansion in wonder. She soaks it all in, in case it's not real. She has no reason to trust this person, and no reason to NOT trust them either. She claims that the experience will last her a lifetime, just for those few moments in that house.

I can relate. Love is overwhelming and anxiety filled to me. I cherish it, adore it, and want it, but at the same time, the walls are there because it doesn't seem real. Love leaves some people feeling vulnerable and open to loads of heartache. It also heals completely, the broken, the dying, and those who simply aren't whole... if they allow it.

I guess you could say the bad thing about putting your heart out there is the risk factor. There's always a risk that your heart will get broken. If you're lucky, it's all unintentional. I don't think there are many who go around breaking hearts on purpose.......... except for that one guy, oh yeah, and that other one........ and probably a couple girls too.

Ok, I lied, BUT I would hope that they see the error of their ways and decide to go for the real and golden true love instead of the momentary love.

I call him my "Cabana Boy." I've always wanted one, and now all i'm missing is the tropical island. However, if we do get married, I'm sure he'll deliver on that, too. :)

Decisions...

There are so many decisions placed on young children. I honestly don't know how they have the ability to decide some very difficult things when they don't understand the consequences yet.

At 7, I was asked by the judge who I wanted to live with. My mom or my dad. At 7, I looked at both of them and picked the one who seemed the saddest. My mom. I found out later that the judge was blind and wanted to get a feel for the situation. That was one of the scariest things to go through at that age, a courtroom, where both parents had the potential of being hurt, and I was the cause.

However, I think if the judge would have been able to see clearly, I would have been put in foster care. I was told numerous times that if anyone would have seen the conditions that I lived in, I would have been taken in a heartbeat. Growing up in it, you don't see it as bad, it's life and normal. Yes, I wished I had a different life, but I couldn't change it, so I lived for the moments when I could be with other family members who had a "real" family.

Another decision I made, was figuring out a game plan on what to do in the event of anything happening. I remember at 8, I woke up on the side of the freeway, in the car, with my mom no where in site. I started to formulate a plan. I knew we were just off the exit somewhere, so I just hoped someone good would stop and pick me up. After what seemed like eternity, my mom showed back up, having been in a police car behind me. I couldn't see her, and honestly, I don't think I really cared other than being scared of what the future would hold.

That wasn't the first time that had happened. I seemed to always be locked in somewhere, and she wasn't there...

It's funny the things that you remember that could be construed as so many things other than love.

*The purpose of this blog is not for sympathy or pity, it's for discovery and helping others. If by my pain, someone else can be healed, then I have served my purpose. I know that sounds dramatic, but the reality is, that is how I am. I have in myself a desire to take other's pain. Not that I want it, but I don't want them to suffer and be in pain.*

I Made It!

I arrived at my undisclosed location late last night. I was ok walking in, with all of my things. Though once I started getting ready for bed, it was a different story. All the fears came up to smack me in the face. I took all the precautions that I have to reduce the anxiety so I can sleep, shutting doors, etc. I finally went to sleep at about 1 AM, after being online for a while.

This morning, I woke up and was relieved that I had made it. The boogey man hadn't gotten me. I hadn't caved to my desires to just call someone and have them come over, just to have someone. It every bit of will power, but I did it.

Now that I am thinking of the night and the silliness, I am thinking that not only do I not like being alone, I don't like going to sleep. Unfortunately, those are two things a person has to do. I guess the next step is figuring out why I don't like to sleep...

First Weekend Alone...

I must say that this weekend has me in survival/freakout mode. The closer I get to the time I have to take my kids to their dad, the more anxiety I experience. I'm half tempted to tell everyone I know to be on alert for a call that I can't do it, and to come rescue me.

This is my first weekend alone since the big discoveries of why I can't stand forced solitude. Most of the discoveries have to do with abandonment as a very young child, others are from the mind games others have played. However, the fear runs deep, and has for so long. 33 years is a LONG time to deal with monsters in the dark that are unidentifiable. Some of the monsters are silly, and if I wasn't the one dealing with them, I may blow them off, or offer different solutions. Other's are real demons that attack every fiber of my being. Now that I can see them on paper, and know that it's me, it's so real and... terrifying.

I have my baby doll, and will be grabbing a stuffed animal soon. I'll be staying at an undisclosed location, so no one can rescue me unknowningly, unless I need them too. It may seem drastic, but I'll feel safer somewhere else and close to people who know what's going on, for this first round. I hope I will anyway.

I have to conquer this. Realistically, I won't be getting married again anytime soon, and eventually, my kids will grow up and leave the nest. What a daunting thought! :( Also, the more I think about the reasons I have to do this, the more angry I get. Maybe the anger will overcome the fear. Maybe.

Wish me luck!