I wont abandon me. (ptsd)

If y’all remember, I had to stop editing my book because of the memories and flash backs I encountered.  It was very puzzling to me that this was happening to me now.  I have worked on this book in some form for the last 12 years. So I wondered, why now?

I immediately found a therapist to help me cope and process the feelings that seemed so over whelming.

Along with the flashbacks and memories came intense emotions.  I would resist the feelings.  I would find distractions so I did not have to experience this stuff.  I had some events happen in my life that triggered my mind and body to relive one of the most traumatic experiences that happened when I was five.  I had not dealt with this in therapy because I had forgiven the people involved.

I learned I still have to process the emotions that are buried in my psyche.  Now is the time my body and mind have chosen to deal with this at this time in my life the only thing I have focus on is myself.  No more hiding behind children and spouses I am ready to create and reveal the life I deserve.

I am at a place where I can move forward to complete this book.  I am still in therapy dealing with my abandonment issues and working diligently to find  peace with the memories.  I am going to start a new page as I go through the process of dealing with these issues and how they have showed up in my behavior and my relationships.

I am striving towards healing to allow me to have more healthy relationships.  It is not something that can be dealt with quickly because i have learned that the mind will bring these memories and flashbacks to surface when i am ready to deal with them.  As i have learned the hard way, if i don’t deal with the feelings they will deal with me.

As i continue on my journey to healing and mental health and stability hopefully someone will be encouraged to start their own healing.

I promise the little girl in my that I will not abandon her and will stay with her for as long as it takes to learn how to live with PTSD.

Thank you for going on this journey of my soul with me.

 

On Purpose

I am doing the last editing of my book and the feelings that are coming up this time are intense.  I want to feel so I can grow but the overwhelming sense of abandonment is making me want to not feel anything.  This is why it has taken so long to finish.

Reliving the events that have been the inspiration for this book is excruciatingly painful.  I have made an appointment to see a therapist because I am going to need some help with this part.  At least I know there is resolution if I move through these feelings I will have gained better insight into why I keep repeating the same patterns.

Applied knowledge is power.  They say awareness is half the battle.  I am determined to stay on purpose.  Hopefully I can finish this time and move on to more pleasing endeavors.

So, I will leave you with an excerpt from the book that will explain some of the emotions I am dealing with.

excerpt from “Life in Poetry”

looking and searching for something

that was supposed to be my birthright

why am I called out to endure such a trial

how is it that people overlooked the fact

that I was a child

now as an adult

what can I do to undo what has been done to me

by mozayik “the souls’ poet”

.

no fairy tales (my issues)

i wasn’t raised on fairy tales

i never thought the prince was coming

i did not look or wait for him

to march in on his horse

no matter the color

i grew up knowing

i had to save myself

i had no visions

of royal kisses in the moonlight

on a castle’s balcony

i took care of myself

i had no dreams of being taken care of

or fitting like a hand and glove

i saw the men come

i saw the men go

no words or show

just go

they were here today and gone tomorrow

leaving behind sorrow

tears and shame

but they were never blamed

it was up to the women

to carry on

make everything work

smiling instead of cussing

laughing to keep from crying

all the while dying for some love

Going to hell changed my life (dedicated to Alfreda Lanoix)

Below is a journal entry of mine from August 2010.  I thought my life was over and I felt good for nothing.  I have Fibromyalgia and Rheumatoid Arthritis.  I was grieving the loss of my former active self.

In March of this year I purchased a book titled “Go to Hell  by Alfreda Lanoix.  This book changed my life.  I know people throw those words around a lot but this is my truth.  Reading her book gave me courage to stand up and try again.  I can not really explain it except to say I was a ready student and the teacher showed up.

I found beauty in me.  I saw God in me.  I knew love in me.

I felt if she could start over so could I.

I said to myself “if her story can help me, then my story can help some body”  The rest is mystory.  I found my voice and have not shut up since.  I love you Alfreda.

I dedicate the rest of my life to telling my stories in hope that a life will be transformed.

written in August 2010

Suffering in silence. not seen nor heard

I’ve become cynical and jaded about the medical community. I am tired of being treated like I am crazy or a drug addict seeking drugs. My pain is real, damn it. If I am depressed it is because I am tired of hoping every day that this day will be better than yesterday, it is getting hard to hold on to hope.

Some might say it could be worse. Well my answer to that is the only thing worse would be death. I am tired of hurting but more than that I am tired of not being heard. I am Tired of not being seen. I really do not know how much more of this I can take. I am not lazy. I am not faking. Who would choose this?

I am a mother of twins and triplets. I’ve worked two jobs many times in my life. I was always on the go. While my children were little I went to college full-time and maintained a 3.5 GPA. All while teaching Sunday school, singing in the Choir, serving on the Usher board and the Nurse’s board at church. I was also taking care of my ailing grandmother. I was a wife, mother, student and servant in my community as well as at church. I went out of my way to help those more disadvantaged than myself.

I was active at my children’s school serving as P.T.A. President and was Coordinator and Liaison for Practical Parenting Partnership. I was responsible for establishing the Free Breakfast program in our school district and getting Drug Free School Zone signs installed in our neighborhoods.

Now I feel like a lazy bum although, that is not true of me. That is how I feel when I spend my days in bed crying in pain.

I am able to do less and less. I spend more time in bed than I do out and it is starting to drive me crazy. If I try to push myself to do more it only causes more pain. I live in fear of pain. I am always anxious about what I have done or might do to cause more pain.
It is so bad that I do not take my pain seriously. If I am hurting anywhere on my body, I just chalk it up to that is just the way it is. That has cost me dearly. I almost died because I did not listen to the pain. And the medical community is horrible. I have to change my doctor of twelve years because I to wait up to three months to see her or see the nurse practitioner. I don’t want to see the nurse practitioner.  She is not a doctor nor is she my doctor.

While waiting to see my doctor about the pain in my side my appendix almost burst. At the hospital they treated me like a crazy, drug seeking addict and sent me home without relieving my pain saying I was constipated although I was vomiting violently, so much that bile was coming up from my liver. They made me feel like being constipated was my fault when (that is a symptom of appendicitis).

I have so many medical conditions to manage that I have become overwhelmed. I am really at the point of giving up. With no one to talk to about this, because everyone is tired of hearing it, I have no outlet. Truth be told, I am tired of hearing it too.

I feel old, boring and a bother. Maybe it is my fault. I try not to whine. I try to act like everything is okay but I am not okay. I am suffering, alone in silence.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A YEAR MAKES

I feel younger, more interesting and well worth your time.

Hopes and Dreams and Scattered Things

Hopes and dreams,

and scattered things

and I can’t find myself

a part of me is missing

lost in the cares of life

that kept my dreams at bay

a part of me is missing

don’t you hear what I say

a part of me is missing

and I want it back today

woke up today

did not know where I was

why was I living

someone else’ dream

here I go again giving away self

just to get some loving

I’m asking me

where I be

and who is this we are

what happened to my dream

is it on a shelf, in a jar

waiting

while I follow some one else’ star

has it died

or just been deferred

will I go back to sleep

or finally wake up

knowing

everything has a price

love is never enough

if the price is myself

hopes and dreams

and scattered things

and I can’t find myself

What I know about love has been hard-earned.  I once thought sex was love.  I believed if I gave my partner enough mind-blowing sex they would love me like I craved to be loved.  I had no concept of self-love.  When someone usually a therapist or a well-meaning friend would say you have to love yourself first.  I always thought to myself that it was easier said than done.  They would make the statement as if it were so easy.  Something that comes naturally to all of us.

What the hell did loving self-love look like?  I tried all the things I thought self-love was.  I faithfully went to the hair stylist and nail technician.  I made sure I had my pedicures and nice clothes.  I would even take myself out to dinner or cook a candle light dinner at home with a bubble bath and sexy lingerie.  None of these activities filled the gaping hole in my heart.

I have had lovers that made my every wish their command and still I did not know love.  I have done things trying to acquire love that put my life at risk just to be loved unconditionally by somebody, anybody.  That feeling of safety is what you get in the first years of life from your parents.  A normal childhood does not come with worries about closing your eyes at night.

I misplaced my trust and allowed people into my life that did not deserve to be there and meant me no good.

My journey to love started when I got real with myself.  When I forgave myself for believing that it was my fault that bad things happened to me as a child.  When I was able to tell the little girl inside me that she did nothing wrong.  I told her it was okay to be afraid and vulnerable.  I told her I would protect her from harm to the best of my abilities.  I promised her that when I knew better I would do better.  I had to rely on my instinct to always do what was in my own best interest.

I had to mother myself.  Even after having six children of my own I could not tell you what mother love embodied.  I could not relate to a close mother child relationship where your mother would give her life to protect you.  That was a foreign concept to me.  I sometimes weep knowing what my children and I missed out on.

That explains why it was so easy for me to detach from people.  Because of the neglect I endured as a child my ability to bond was disabled.  People became disposable.  But as the years went on I started to notice the pattern and through therapy and self-help books I discovered the pathology of my family of origin.

As I gained an understanding of myself I was able to forgive.  Forgiving myself was an act of self-love.  Now because I recognize love when I see it, I have boundaries and I don’t allow anyone to disrespect me nor do I disrespect others.  I understand that how I treat others is a direct reflection of how I feel about myself.  Hence the golden rule “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

I love me enough to teach you how to treat me by the way I treat you.

Dying for Love

In the pursuit of love

little girls take candy from strangers

women throw away their dreams

while scheming on how to get

whatever is missing in themselves

men give up trying

start drowning in the alcohol well

we are all dying

trying to find love

My second ex-husband told me I was a fool for trying to make him love me.  He was more right than he knows and that I wanted to admit.  I literally gave my life for him.  I had my tubes tied when I was 18 because I knew 3 was enough at 18 years old.  I told the doctor  that I refuse to sign the surgery authorization unless he would included the tubal ligation.  I was pregnant with twins from my first husband.  Well the doctor cut off the fimbriae of my fallopian tubes essentially making it impossible to reverse the procedure.

Years later when I wanted to (give) my second husband children we did in vitro fertilization which consisted of daily intramuscular injections, two minor and one major surgery, along with 4 months of complete bed rest   with 8 weeks spent in the hospital.  I delivered triplets that were born healthy.  I thought this man deserved children so I made it my mission to give him some.  After the children were born he treated me like sh*t on the bottom of his shoe that he would go to any lengths to remove.  He let me know that when they were 18 he was leaving me.

I asked him how he could treat me that way after all I had (given) him.  After all I had sacrificed for him he should love me and be appreciative.  His response was “if that is what you did it for then you are a damn fool”

I spent years looking for the love that God had given me the day I was born.  All I needed to do was breath.  I gave away so much of myself  trying to get someone, anyone to love me.  The bible says to love your neighbor as you love yourself.  So many of us get it backward.  We try to love others first.  We put everyone before our selves.  When all God wants us to do is learn to love ourselves first.

When I finally got the real message I started down the long courageous road to recovery.  Thru therapy and a lot of soul searching I am healing and learning how to love others as I love me.  That means learning how to say no.  That means putting myself first.