A new look...

So maybe you noticed the change of color on the blog. I was looking at the blog yesterday and realized that it didn't need to be black anymore. I don't know why I felt that, but I just did and changed it to white. Does that indicate that I am not in a dark mood any longer? Or that life and surviving isn't so terrible? I don't have the answers. I guess in my heart I feel a tiny bit lighter and wanted to reflect that feeling.

I am not better by any means but some days remembering the abuse doesn't feel so horrible. I haven't thought of "leaving" in a while. I have only had one glass of wine in weeks and am not craving it much any longer. I am really tired alot of the time though so I know the depression is still there but my depression is a livable type. Some days are worse than others and I know that I will have many more bad days coming in the next 4 months. October thru January are my least favorite months. One would think that with so much happening, it would be enjoyable. First there is my anniversary and Halloween in October, then my birthday and Thanksgiving in November, then Christmas in December and finally New Year's and my husband's birthday in January.

But aside from all the fun that I should be having, there is always the memories of the times I didn't get to enjoy these months because I was sent away. The first time I was 9 going on 10. It was when I told my mom about the abuse the first time and she didn't believe me. So the resolution to the problem was to have me live with my mom's friend in another city for several months. I had to start a new school and live with strangers. The second time I was 15 going on 16. I was sent away to a mental hospital to deal with my PTSD. At the time, I felt like I was being punished and had no idea what I did wrong. I fought the system and refused all help until I was told I couldn't leave until I made some progress. So I learned to "snow" the system and got to go home in January. I turned 16 in a mental hospital. I remember that I got to make ice cream sundaes as my present. I was also there for the holidays but was able to go home for several days during Christmas.

Each year I remember this trauma to me more vividly than I do the many acts of abuse. It hurt so much to be ripped from my family, even if some members were hurting me. I missed my sister Amber terribly the entire time. My mom visited alot during both times. These were the only times that I really felt like she acknowledged me. She hugged me alot and always brought presents. Unfortunately, I always saw it for what it was.

I miss my mom some days. It has been over 6 months since I have spoken with her. It is a hard thing to do when I am used to picking up the phone and chatting. You see my relationship with my mom didn't really arrive until I turned 18 and joined the Navy. Then my mom became my friend and not so much a mom. The reason I stopped talking to her is because I realized that the secret of my abuse was still a secret. No one talked about it, acknowledged it or accepted it. My mom never talked to me about why she treated me the way she did but just pushed it aside to be my friend. My problem was that I was always thinking about it and it bothered me. I felt like I had to censor myself around her and I didn't want to do that any longer. Remember, I don't keep secrets anymore. So until I have come to terms with the choices my mother made during my childhood, I cannot have a relationship with her. But as of now, I am not ready to forgive. Not yet.

Tired of counting the days...

It has been a while since I wrote last and there are several reasons. A few days of depression here and there, 3 weeks of sobriety and then a crash and realization of sorts, several intense sessions of therapy (is that a good thing or not) and just regular life hitting at me.

To explain - I think the depression is coming back. Not so much by the tell-tale mood swings, highs & lows and other depression signs but more by the fact that my hair is falling out again. Aghh... just when I thought it was getting better. The reason I say that this is a sign of depression is because last year I went to see my doctor about it as it had been over a year since I had given birth to my last and second child. My hair was falling out in gobs - in the shower, on my clothes and in the hairbrush. The Dr. checked the normal stuff and it was all normal (it always is, isn't it?) and then asked me if I felt depressed. I said sometimes but I mostly just feel like crying all the time. Well, DUH! I tried anti-depressants for a while and then went off of them in March to try a different route of Neurofeedback and talk therapy. It took a while but I noticed a couple months ago that my hair wasn't falling out as much in the shower and I wasn't cleaning out my hairbrush every day. Now I am...again. What does this mean?

I went three weeks with no drinking. I thought about it every single day of those 21 days. Believe me. It seemed so appealing and that is all I could think about. After a day of hard therapy, I decided to buy a bottle of wine. Even though I drank, I didn't drink until after 6PM and I only had two glasses. Several days later, we all went to a party and I got pretty drunk...drunk enough to not really remember much after a certain point. Blackout drinking is the one thing I hate because there is enough I can’t remember already in my life without worrying about what happened in one night. The funny thing is that after all that craving of no alcohol and then drinking, I decided to just drink if I feel the urge, as long as it is in moderation. You know, one glass a night type thing. Here is the funny part - now that I have decided to drink again, I haven’t had a drink since. Guess it is all in the mind!

In therapy, we are using EMDR now. I have done it 3 times with the first being a sample. The second time I did it was the night I started drinking again. During that session all I could think about was how much I missed my sister and all the feelings I have for her being my safe person growing up and how if it weren't for her, I just wouldn't have made it. The third session of EMDR was last week on Friday. I went in for therapy full of anxiety and anger about my old employer who keeps contacting me for help. We started there with how I feel about them. EMDR is nothing major really. I watch 3 little green dots run back and forth on a bar and I just let my eyes follow these lights - back and forth, back and forth. I just think of whatever I am told to and then let my mind wander and see where it goes. So in this past session, we started with the anxiety feeling about my old work. I won't bore with the details but let’s say that this employer knew what buttons to push to have a totally devoted employee who was more loyal to them than her own family. It was like an abusive situation all over again - not leaving because it was good money, not saying how I felt for fear of retribution - and in the end, being dumped on as the bad person. So my thoughts started with the feeling of anxiety which for me is rapid heartbeat, pressure in my chest and stomach churning and many random stupid thoughts running through my mind with every conceivable scenario. That led to me thinking that I must be gullible or stupid to keep finding myself with these types of employers. Next thought, why? Well, because I really want to trust in someone but it never pans out. Each and every person that I have trusted in for the "wrong" reasons have let me down. My thoughts were tracking each of my past jobs and who I trusted and how I was disappointed. These thoughts went all the way back to being a child. Who let me down more than anyone else? Albert or my mom? Albert wasn't my natural father or even a legal guardian so he really only violated my trust and body. My mom carried me for 9 months and then gave birth to me. But did she ever really take care of me? NO. Did she protect me? NO. So in these thoughts, my mom did more damage to me than anyone else. Now my thoughts went to the fact that all my employers for the most part were male but my mom is not. My thoughts turned. Maybe I was reaching out for males to give me what I thought was needed because my mom didn't. A little while into the EMDR session, I became overwhelmed by a strange sensation. After I watch the lights for a while, I am told to take a deep breath and close my eyes and then indicate where my thoughts currently are. Well, at this point, I closed my eyes and tried to put my feelings into words but the sides of my mind began to close in and I felt like a fog was trying to cover me. I never could put anything into words but was crying. At some point, I felt startled and was able to open my eyes again. After watching the lights again and closing my eyes again, I started to feel like my body was sinking under water but my head was floating above me - almost like being stretched from my neck. I couldn't open my eyes but I really felt like I wasn’t there any longer. I remember trying to dig my fingernails into my hand to bring my head back to my body. I was crying hard, just tears streaming down my face and all I could think of was my mom knowing what some man was doing to her little girl and how much that hurt. (Damn, I thought I would actually make it thru a post without crying) I am filled with so much pain. I feel like my heart is breaking into two at times when I think about this. I have two kids. And as mad as I get at them allot of the time, when they look at me with smiles and so much love in their eyes, I cannot bear to be mad any longer or hold a grudge. I cannot imagine seeing them being hurt and doing nothing. And then I think of my mom. And how she did nothing, except what was in her best interest. And that hurts. And honestly, I don’t know if that can be forgiven.

Day 35

This week I feel like giving up. I don't know why I feel this way but whenever I am alone, I want to cry and scream. I am frustrated with life and therapy and I am lonely and sad. Why?

**I am frustrated with life because I lost my job due to being on disability and for the first time in almost 10 years, I am not running around with my head cut off trying to please everyone and be the "go to" person. Most people think this is a great opportunity but I am feeling rejected and worthless. At the same time, I have things I could do...clean house, cook for my family, work on building my own business... but every time I think of doing any of those things, I get swamped with these feelings of despair and am unable to either get started on something or loose my steam half way through.

**I am frustrated with therapy because I think that I should be somewhat better by now only to feel worse most of the time. When I devote all my time and energy into it, I feel saddened by what I read and discover about myself. When I don't read my books or do the work I should be doing for therapy, then I like a failure because I am not working as hard as I should be. Is there an in between here? Should I give my ALL to therapy or is this a natural way to resolve internal bullshit?

**I am lonely because I don't have any friends anymore. Not that they have done anything wrong but more because I don't feel capable of dealing with anyone else right now. There is so much going on inside my head and heart that I cannot imagine talking about something minor in comparison to my issues or being able to really carry on a real conversation about day to day stuff when all I want to do is cry. I know I should be able to reach out to my true friends but I don't think they really understand what this is like for me.

**I am sad because of all the above plus I really miss my sister Amber. I wish she didn't live so far away because some days I really just want her to take care of me like she used to (even though she was younger). I am also sad because my relationship with my husband is so much better than before because we communicate to each other but since I tell him of my real feelings such as in this post (he gets to read my blog and talk to be personally) but I sense his sadness and fear for me. Additionally, there are days that I really miss my mom but I am not ready to talk to her yet. She hurt me just as much as Albert did...by not believing me, by not trusting in me, by not loving me more, by not understanding my pain, by thinking that I can just forget all that and move on.