Talking it Out

I started doing something last week that simultaneously terrifies me and delights me. I started talking about what I remember with my therapist. These are things that will never be discussed on my blog because these are painful, sometimes pretty horrible, things to discuss. At the same time, these are things that need to be talked out because keeping them bottled up inside does more damage than the events themselves did. Even knowing that, digging into the past worries me. I keep these things bottled up inside me because, when I let myself think about things, it hurts worse than anything I've experienced to date.

She and I are both really happy that I finally trust her enough to talk about these things, though. It takes a long time to build the level of trust in someone where you can give them your deepest, darkest secrets and know that you will never be judged or looked down on. Instead, this person will tell you it's alright and lift you up to feel better about yourself for not only living through these things, but allowing yourself to become a stronger person for it. I have that level of trust with a few friends, but I don't want to burden them with the hurts of the past. For them it's personal because they love me. Same with my family, only that hurt would go even deeper because, as my family, they feel that they should have known and stopped what was going on.

The relationship between a therapist and client is surface friendship, without the deeper emotions that go with it. That level is hard to obtain and even harder to retain, but it's necessary for the purposes of being in therapy. Empathy is necessary to be a therapist, and if you're not careful that empathy can cause a lot of hurt all around. I watched her as I discussed some of my past last week and I could see the surprise and hurt register there. I don't think, no matter what I've said, that it registered with her how much pain there was and how deep it went because of the things that happened for a very long time. I know, though, that we are in a good place for this and we will tread that thin line that's necessary for this to continue. I really need for this to continue. I need someone who I can talk this out with, because I don't ever want to break again.

I think most people think "How horrible!" when they hear that a child was molested by a family member, but they don't realize that it starts long before the molestation, teaching that child to fear so that once it starts the abuse and tyranny have already gone on for many months or years. People will say "I'm so sorry." when they hear that a woman was emotionally abused, but they don't think about how gradually that abuse built up (and only in the home, so it's easy to think she's taking things to personally or just making it up) until she was too afraid to bring anyone into her troubles for fear they won't believe her anyway.  Combine those two and you have someone who learned to fear being called a liar early in life and the pain that will be inflicted if the person causing you grief were to find out, and someone who it was easy to convince, due to those already instilled fears, that she is stupid and useless and should rely solely on her abuser for everything in life.

These are the things my subconscious needed to forget for a time. The healing process started when I realized how strong I was without those voices screaming in my head every day. Now the healing process needs to continue, because those voices get louder with every memory and all the work of the last almost two years will go down the drain if I don't step up and stop the cycle NOW!!

Life's Little Problems

I've discovered something most unpleasant about myself.....I'm an avoider. I don't face the problems life throws my way until I feel "ready." Sometimes that means that for days, or even weeks, on end I will bury my head in the sand and pretend that nothing is wrong, nothing is going on. It took seeing that tendency in someone very close to me recently for me to face up to my own issue with it. I nearly corrected them on their avoidance behavior before I realized I do the same thing.

I don't want to be one of those people. I want to face the challenges life hands me head on, with my face set and my mind in "battle mode", ready to face whatever I'm dealt with a calm demeanor. That is what I will strive to do from now on. Even the issues I've been avoiding the last couple of weeks, which will be harder to face for having avoided them, I will deal with in a calm, rational manner no matter what happens. (Well, I'll try anyway, but "calm and rational" take a lot of work for me, so it might not work out as well as I'd like. All I can do is try and hope for the best.)

This is where I run into my favorite part of the amnesia....learning who I am and correcting myself where it's needed. I realize this is something anyone can do, with or without the startlingly life-altering event, but I can truthfully say that I see these things about myself differently than I did before. I would notice them and try to change them before, but they were far more deeply ingrained in me before. I'm still "learning" how to be me, how to be an adult, and these behaviors are much easier to correct now. Also, when I see these things, it tends to be suddenly, and with a crystal clarity that I didn't have before. I don't know if that's because I wasn't much of an introspective person (I thought I was, but I now know I was pretty shallow when it came to how I viewed myself) or because every day I remember something new and these revelations often come with the memories.

I may falter, and I may fail often at the endeavor of bettering my "ostrich" attitude, but I will continue to try no matter how often I bruise myself on the trail to successful change. That's one tendency I don't ever want to give up. My intense tenacity and stubbornness when it comes to improving myself.

Why I "Left"

Please note, this blog is not meant to be used for blame. It is not an excuse for everything that has happened. It is an epiphany, nothing more, nothing less!!

This has been weighing heavily on my mind of late. I've been wondering if I should say anything or let my mind clarify what has been bothering me first. Well....as of tonight, my mind is clear, but my heart still isn't. People will take from this what they choose. Some people will take from this the opportunity to blame. Others will realize that there is no blame being placed by what I have to say, only me relieving my heart of a burden I can't carry alone.

I remember why I left. I don't remember how or the events immediately leading up to and during my disappearance, but the stress behind the fugue is something I truly believe I understand.

I don't believe I ever made the conscious decision to leave, but I do know that the mind can only handle so much stress before it just shuts down. Some people just need a "day off" from the world. Some people hide in books, movies, or television, temporarily escaping from the stresses of every day life. None of that was enough for me. When that's not enough, some people suffer from a nervous breakdown, but others box off their life and go into a fugue state to escape what they can no longer process. This is what my subconscious did to survive.

I was drowning. Oh, not literally, obviously, but drowning in stress and the feeling of complete and utter failure looming on the horizon. I had been told by different people since my childhood that I was a nobody, a nothing, not worth listening to or believing, and definitely not worth the mud on the bottom of certain people's boots. I was still being told that by one person in particular every time that person would get angry about something they construed as insulting or threatening to their reputation or well-being. Being told you're worthless and a failure wears on you after a while. The feelings those words inspire get to the point where they are always inside you. You are so sure that they are correct that you start to self-sabotage to make it true.

Never was that more true that what happened April 9, 2011, for me anyway.

I felt like life was too much. I was exhausted, but determined to keep wading through the quicksand. I refused to give up. I thought this meant that I was a strong person. That this would prove to everyone once and for all that those naysayers were wrong. That I was worthwhile, but all I was doing was setting myself up for the biggest fall yet. I piled on more and more stress, but through it all I continued to allow myself to be verbally attacked and continued to make excuses for those attacks instead of defending myself and talking about my problems with people who would have gotten me the help I needed.

That day, I failed to turn in a school assignment that was due by noon. That was it. That was the last straw, I guess. I felt like I couldn't breath when I realized what I'd done. I was exactly what they had said I was. A failure. That was when I decided to step out, run to the store, get some ice cream, take a breathe, and start again later after I'd calmed down. (That's the missing piece to the puzzle. That's why I gave in to the urge to grab a snack. That is what I wasn't ready to remember. It's so small a thing in retrospect, but at the time it was the end of everything I was trying to build for myself...by myself.)

That didn't happen, though. Something else happened. I don't know what, but I am extra glad I am not that same person. Yes, there are a couple of people left out there that my reactions to are controlled completely by my subconscious. Those people who have ingrained fear into my reactions to them so deeply that I can't think about them without feeling it and an immediate need to protect myself the only way they would let me in the past, just obey. However, overall I am a much healthier person now than I was in my "past life."

Before, I would talk some about what bothered me, but then I wouldn't talk it through fully and would continue to worry about it, wallowing in my fear and eventual self-loathing. Today, I don't let stress rule my world. There is always someone who will listen. A friend, a family member, or my blog followers. No stress stays locked up inside. No decision remains unmade. No situation is allowed to fester. Apparently, when I was reset, my brain learned healthy ways to deal with the daily stresses that come with being human.

I've been told by two psychiatrists and a psychiatric nurse (in the hospital in Joliet), that I have less of a chance of ever experiencing another dissociative fugue than someone that has never experienced one in their life, and the chance drops even further if I can figure out why it happened and deal with the problems. Well, apparently my mind already knew the problem and started dealing with it before it let my conscious mind discover the truth. I am thankful to know that my friends and family will never have to experience what they did for those 3+ weeks that I was missing (with a 99.999% certainty anyway.)

If any of you are in a situation where you don't feel like you can talk to others about your stress, but you are drowning in your troubles, please find someone to help you before it's too late. Don't let what happened to me happen to you, or something different and just as bad. Please remember that there are people who care. I care. I may not know you personally, but I still care.

Shockingly, I Have Amnesia

Okay, I realize this isn't a surprise to anyone, but sometimes my life is going so smoothly that I forget that I have amnesia. There is so much that I do remember that I don't think about it every moment of every day like I did in the beginning. This is fantastic for me.....until my mother, speaking about something my brother posted online, says his middle name and I realize I didn't know it....or my sister, casually discussing where I used to live with my parents, husband, and kids, says something happened and I suddenly realize I have no idea what she's talking about....or someone asks me if I've seen a certain movie and I don't know what to say, because chances are good that the answer is yes, but I'm not sure and I don't remember the story regardless.

It's unnerving to realize how much I don't know about who I was. I know there are things I remember that I still have no emotional frame of reference for. I remember that things happened and that I made decisions, or that I was shy about putting myself out there, but I don't really understand why I behaved that way, or decided what I decided, or where that shyness came from. I'm not shy and I don't make decisions for the sake of hurting people who have hurt me and I don't hate people no matter their past behavior towards myself or others. That's just not who I am....but that is who I was.

Faced with these random statements from others about what has happened in my life and how I used to behave and memories of decisions I've made, I am forced to remember I have amnesia. Not HAD, have. It doesn't define my every day life like it did for the last year plus, but it's there and I am still dealing with the questions of who I really am versus who I was, what I don't remember and the possibilities of why those memories haven't returned, and how much I'm going to allow my past to dictate my future.

And I move forward every day, because (still sometimes) shockingly, I have amnesia!!

Man of Courage

Sometimes it is easy to let our fear of telling the truth interfere with the telling of it. Sometimes we worry so much about what others are thinking that we try to stop thinking something.  Well, today is Father's Day and that makes this the best day to say this.

Out there is a man of courage who was one long before the call was made. He was the one who stayed when things went south. He was the one that kissed his children, tucked them into bed, and told them that he and their mother loved them. He was the one who took them to school events, showed up for concerts, went to sporting events, and got to know the classmates, parents, and teachers. He was the one who played with the kids, fed them after school, and made sure they were bathed. He kissed them when they fell down and got scraped, he listened when they had problems with friends, he taught them how to ride their bikes, and he answered their questions when they wanted to know about anything.

He was there when I didn't step up to the plate and take care of what should have been taken care of. He was truly a hero. He still is. To my kids......and to me.

Happy Father's Day, Teague. Whether you see this or not.

Out of Reach

We all have things we want to achieve in life. Some of our dreams are bigger than others. It seems like, if we have small dreams we should be able to reach them with a little work. Days like today, however, it feels like those small dreams are even more out of reach than the big ones.  I have dreams of going back to school and getting a degree (in chemical engineering, no less.) That's a pretty big dream. I have a dream of owning my own home and having a "normal" life (well, as normal as MY life could ever be considering how crazy I am on a daily basis.) Also, a pretty big dream.

I have a dream of moving back up to Michigan, getting a basic office job or even just flipping burgers if it affords me enough to support myself, my kids, and my sister, seeing my kids, and living a simple life for a couple of years. Not too big. Not too unattainable, right?  Not so much.

I got a letter in the mail yesterday that may make all of this null and void if I can't get the problem fixed. It's frustrating and infuriating that people just can't think for five seconds. "Gee, I'm sending this letter to an address several states away. She probably couldn't swing a face to face meeting, since she can't even come up with the money to send a little bit each month. Guess we should set this up for an over the phone deal." 

Could I really lose my "little" dream that everything is built around right now because someone is not thinking? Yup, I really could. Things just feel unattainable right now.

Bad Impressions

It has been brought to my attention by someone that I love that I have made a bad impression on some people by posting blog posts that are more personal than necessary. This person is my brother, and he is absolutely right.

I would love to say that I have posted what I've posted because it all pertains to my recovery, but that wouldn't be the truth. That's not to say that it doesn't pertain to my recovery. Learning to deal with the repercussions of my past is an important part of what I've had to do, often before I even knew what that past was. However, more often than not, when I wrote posts about my ex-husband and my past with him, I wrote those posts out of anger, not out of a need to explore how I deal with those memories.

The Truth is Out There

If someone was professionally diagnosed with ADD, would you believe them? How much respect do you think you would lose if you publicly denounced that person? How about someone diagnosed with depression or anxiety?  There are no physical tests to prove that people have any of these ailments, yet people believe when others say they have them.

Together

Based on this poster, I have a very large family. I have many people whom I've never met in person who still make me a part of their life. People who accept me for who I am, the good, the bad, and the really, REALLY ugly. They send me goofiness over Facebook or e-mail and tell me regularly that they are praying for me just as I am praying for them.  Some days the reminders from these people that I am loved are very needed.

It's so easy to let myself forget that I am loved. Some days I see so much of the bad in me that I forget there is good. I remember so many rotten things that, at times, they overshadow the good. Or the good things that I remember are twisted by other people in my life to be proven that they were just a lie, which is worse than an actual bad memory. Worse because it feels like someone has taken something beautiful and crushed it until it's unrecognizable, then poured bleach on it just to make sure the job was done right.

I have some very precious memories that, as they have returned to me, sustained me through some very dark hours. Then, recently, someone informed me that all the good memories I have of us together were a lie. They never really liked me, but used me to make their life easier because they were going through something difficult. Funny, but it sounds like I was displaying the love I had for that person, they just refused to accept it.

The love I have for this person has not, and will not, change. I still want this person in my life, with a changed relationship of course, but still there. I accept them for who they are, the good, the bad, and the really, REALLY ugly. I would do anything to see this person smile again, even if the only way for that to happen is to just leave them alone. (i.e. Still be there, but not invading. Keeping my distance, but being available when they decide they need me, even if it's just to use me to make a difficult situation easier.) And, most of all, I will love this person no matter what. Adding one more item, not there but most important, I will pray for this person to find joy and forgiveness.

Sometimes the people we love the least is blood, but we love them because we have to. Sometimes the person we love the most is the one who loves us the least.  In the end, God will see us through. If we continue to love one another, than we are making use of the greatest resources He provided us with, EACH OTHER.
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"I'm just like everyone. I like to feel togetherness with someone." ~ Lucinda Williams

Getting Better At This

It's amazing how God chooses to work in our lives. I though the decision to have a yard sale was just a way to consolidate mine and my sister's homes and make a little cash. God had other plans, obviously. Plans besides the devious "I'll completely wear her out moving around boxes for the next couple of weeks so that she won't feel up to doing anything come vacation time. Bwahahahahaha!!" (No, I don't really thing God is devious, it just felt like it yesterday when I couldn't move because my hip kept shifting in the joint. Not good. NOT GOOD!!!)

He is using this amazing opportunity of me going through nearly everything I own (some of the boxes of kids toys was just scary and I left well enough alone after one glance.) At first, it was really hard. I would look at some things and memories would come shooting into my head. Those were the easy things to take out and know what to do with. Then there were the items I would pull out and stare at for a while before I would shake my head and decide that I'm destined to not have any clue where it came from or if it held any significance for me. Those were the ones that made me want to cry.

Following Instructions

Yesterday was an interesting day. It was one of those days when I realize, yes I've come very far, but I still have so far to go. Maybe it's a confidence issue, maybe it's not. Maybe I'm just not introspective enough to figure that out. And, maybe it doesn't matter either way and I should just stop rambling about it now since it doesn't really affect the outcome of what I have to say here.

I learned (relearned?) yesterday how to fold down the back seats of my car to extend the cargo area. (Within that sentence lies the problem.) Sounds innocuous enough I suppose. That's really no big deal. I picked up the owners manual of my car, looked up how to do something, and did it.

Remembrances

Yesterday I unpacked some things that just made me smile. A mug that I picked up when my oldest son and I went to Taquamenon Falls and another one that I picked up on Mackinac Island (both during the same class trip.) A mug that I got when my youngest son and I went to the zoo on a class trip. The kids hot chocolate mugs that friends gave us for Christmas a couple of years ago. My "Dragonfly Inn" coffee mug (well really soup mug, but I was really addicted to coffee!) that one of my best friends (almost wrote "besties" by accident. I really hate that word. I totally annoys me whenever someone writes in on FB. If you say it out loud it sounds like your calling someone a beast in a cutesy way. Ugh!) ummmmm......oh yeah....gave me for my birthday one year. Socks that I knitted for one of my boys. A sweater that I knitted for another. A hat of my oldest boy's filled with pins from that same Mackinac Island trip (I think he though it was gone, but YAY!! I have it.)

Little Things

Happiness comes in small packages.

Meeting a new friend and being able to discuss things that have happened in my life, PAST and present, to help them better understand me.

Talking with my grandfather on the phone and knowing who he's talking about when he mentions different people from the church that I grew up in. Both who they are and what they mean/meant to me.

Going through boxes of my personal belongings from the storage unit and remembering when and where I got each item and re-examining the reasons why.

Talking to my kids on the phone and being able to say "Do you remember......?" (and sometimes hearing them say no, and smiling because I remember something they don't which means they couldn't have told me about it. Therefore I remembered it on my own.)

Remembering little things that people are amazed I remember (like the circumstances behind receiving something as normal and every day as a cup with dandelions in it, although that's maybe not so common since I am allergic to dandelions, but still.....)

Tasting something I've eaten before and remembering times when I ate that same thing. (Tastes are something I haven't been able to remember until I actually eat or drink something. I get the impression that's weird or something, but it is ME we're talking about!)

Tasting something I've NEVER eaten before. (Really just experiencing new things. I love new things!! My sense of adventure is at an all time high.)

Just waking up in the morning, because it's the little things that make me happy.

Taking Things to the Extreme

I had a couple of friends reminding me after "Everything Happens For a Reason" that self-destructive behavior is normal under the circumstances of my past. However, I do have this way of taking things to extremes.  I always say that it makes me sick when people use their past as an excuse for their poor decisions and bad behavior. If I sat here and blamed what had happened to me for my choices, that would make me a hypocrite.

So, I need to clarify something to all of you. I blame only myself for my past. My decisions were mine. I could have risen above circumstances, but chose to let my circumstances rise above me.  I also refuse to look at the past and beat myself up for those bad decisions. I have to forgive myself in order to move on with my life. That is my choice now. I forgive all. I forgive myself and I forgive those around me who made poor choices that effected me. I cannot forget because I am human, and to forget the past is to doom yourself to repeat the mistakes of that past. I choose to no longer let that past and those past mistakes rule my future. I allowed that for too many years and I am done.

I'm Screwy, but OK

Does anyone else find it as weird as I do that my fight or flight instinct is pretty skewed (made fairly obvious by my last post), but I still managed to make my way home. No I didn't do it the easy way, probably because I never do ANYTHING the easy way, but I still made my way home. As much as my subconscious wanted to get away, it didn't want to stay away. I'm not just talking about family. For Pete's sake, I was in Georgia and I still went back up to the freezing weather up north. Obviously, I missed it or something.

Well, I'm doing it again, only in a more conscious way. I am moving back up north. Going back to home sweet home. I realize it's been warm up there this week, but that's what we call a freak weather event. Winter is not over in Michigan despite signs to the contrary. Down here in Georgia however, it is spring. Albeit, temporarily with summer type weather, but spring in March! Me being the glutton for punishment that I am, I am voluntarily moving away from this beautiful weather. All because I love my kids.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Sorry it's been so long between posts. I needed some time to reflect what has been coming back to me lately. I wanted to remember my life and why I reacted to things and certain people the way I do and I got my wish. Unfortunately, now that I remember I realize I shouldn't have wished for that. It's like being caught between a rock and a hard place. I know how horrifying it is to not know your past, and I know what it's like not to want to know.

My psychiatrist pointed out to me once that I chose to leave my life. Not consciously, but it was still a choice that my mind made. Whether I chose to leave due to a physical threat, a mental threat, or just something I perceived as a threat, my subconscious chose to leave the life I had because it couldn't handle something in it.  I think I know what that was now.  I left behind every plastered on smile, every heartache I had caused and received, every hat I was wearing that was weighing me down with a life full of lies. I hated myself and what I had allowed myself to become, and the more I pretended the opposite the harder it was to move away from the lies. I was so busy pretending I was happy that I was making myself miserable.

Stress Management

Did you know that if you suffer from mild depression medication may not help you?  My doctor flat out asked me if I want to be on medication and I think she was please when my response was no. Please, don't think I hold it against people who decide medication is the best treatment option for depression or that people should take those that are available. Quite frankly, I am happy that medication is available if needed.  I just don't think I need it.

I do believe, however, that I suffer from mild to moderate depression, with some bouts bordering on incapacitating. I also believe it is manageable with a good support system and a lot of effort on my part. Yes, I could choose to make this all easier and go on medication (if I could afford it, which is just another thing adding to my stress pile these days), but we cannot guarantee what effect that would have on my memories returning. Depression medication is designed to change the way your brain functions, and my brain is functioning differently enough, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!

I Bet You Thought My Brain Had Melted or Something

So, I did it. I made it through the first three Star Wars films.  It was grueling work, but very worth it to have a conversation with my 10-year old son that I was able to contribute to and understand without having to ask a million questions that normal mothers probably never have to ask.  Questions like, "Who's Anakin Skywalker?" and "Why does Yoda talk like that?" (I realize that noone knows that answer to that one, but I didn't before I realized he just always has.)  Here are my opinions of the first three movies. 

#1.  It was okay. The special effects were good and the acting was something I could handle.  I wanted to shoot my television after a while thanks to Jar Jar, but decided that it wasn't my televisions fault that he was so annoying. Then, I wanted to shoot Jar Jar, but since he's a fictional character, I had to just get up and do some kickboxing instead. It helped, but not enough. I still think it's weird that a 9-year old Darth Vader built C3PO and that he was actually being passed off as some sort of virgin birth or something. Maybe I misunderstood that part. Easy to do as, by then, my brain was in defensive mode. "We just need to get through this. If we can survive this, we can survive anything!!" And, indeed we did. I chose not to tell my brain at that point that we had 5 more movies to go.

What Was That?!?! (Hint: It's name is Jar Jar)

Well, I did it. I watched Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace. It was........ummmmm, unexpected. I vaguely recall Star Wars from when I was a kid, and although everything I watch from when I was a kid is way worse that what I recall, I'm pretty sure Star Wars Episode I was actually a mockery of the original Star Wars. The whole movie was unrealistic in a way that was rediculous even for sci-fi. I think my brain is in shock.

Don't get me wrong, the kid was cute. (Although, since when did Anakin Skywalker build C3PO. What a load that is, huh?) I really like Liam Neeson, Ewan McGregor, and kinda like Natalie Portman (I understand she did an excellent job in Black Swan) but a few big names didn't make the movie better, just more disappointing. In the end, all the movie succeeded in doing is making me just really confused (not that that's hard to do, but SOOOO not the point right now.)

Back In "School"

I have been given an assignment.  My assignment is as follows. Tomorrow (Wednesday) and Thursday I am to watch one Star Wars movie each day. In fact I have been told to watch all of them starting with Episode I and going through in order. I am under orders to do the same with all of the Star Trek TV series, but that isn't part of this current assignment. Thursday night, I am to call him to discuss the storyline thus far and which at this point is my favorite character. I am sure at that point the assignment will be expanded to include more movies before the next time we talk on the phone.