who says good people shouldn't get angry? Did Jesus get angry? Of course he did. He got angry when the good religious people demanded the people do it their way. And there is suffering in this world that is not optional. Are there really idiots that think you are only as happy as you make up your mind to be? Only in America would one hear such ridiculous crap. Isn't anyone paying attention?! How much suffering must there be before someone gets it. It must be easy, for those who have lived a life of relative ease and called it hard, to degrade, demean, judge, reject and abandon others who are not like them. It must be easy to push the suffering of others out of ones consciousness by moralizing, prejudging and pushing them further into the abyss of self destructiveness. What does it cost to speak to another human being as if they too have value. You may be the 1st & only person to begin a major change in that persons life. Just one kind & compassionate word could mean the difference between life & death. Yes that black & white. Yes just that simple!
Doesn't anyone listen anymore? Are you so busy judging you can't see the hardships going on around you? It only takes a small amount of time, an ear & a large, soft heart to assist in helping another find their way out of the darkness. It doesn't cost anything. NOTHING! You don't have to go to church, a 12 step meeting, or anywhere specific. Just go to your local park & speak to someone who doesn't look anything like you or someone who looks just like you. Then again maybe that is what has got me into some of the hugest messes of my life.
I have a soft heart, in fact I am empathic. I would hurt myself before I would hurt another. It has been that one thinking error and the behaviors surrounding that error that I have hurt so many. I meant well. I just didn't have tool one to do the right thing in the right manner. I've refused to harm another as I was harmed. I have been incapable of standing up for myself all my life. I shut down. I go so far in & I don't come out. No phyical pain has ever changed me. All the punishment for the effects of childhood torture and inhumanity upon me has only reinforced my dissociation and repression of those horrors. The problems I have had all my life comes from being put into a drawer for the 1st 7 years of my life. It comes from coming into the world with boils all over my body. I stank. Every part of me stank! My skin, my hair and my breath. It comes from being tied down in a hospital when I was 6 months old. And having those boils pop up continually until age 16 when I left my mothers house. It comes from a Catholic mother who spoke of a God who would strike me down dead if I thought anything against what mother demanded. She demanded I not shake as she stood over me striking me over & over while telling me she would keep beating until I stopped crying or feeing any of her torture. She demanded I admit to every horror done to me being my fault. Then she continued to beat until I admit to the molestation and beating not happening at all. I learned by the age of two to sit, not move & not think of anything that might get me into trouble. She said she could read my mind.
As she forced a fork full of food down my throat screaming eat it you little cunt before I kill you. I never was safe in her house of horror.
I had to say I had made it happen, but it didn't happen, so I was not hurt. She would line her children up and beat them at the slightest provocation. She made sure we were separated by her plotting one child against the other. Always telling me I should dress like, talk like, be like my baby sister. By the time I was two I was screaming with terror when I had to be return to her. I would be told if I thought one good thing about myself she would kill me. I was unwanted, unnamed and uncared for. In my family I have never been allowed to be sick, tired, hurt or to be seen as a human being with feelings at all. I was property. Everyday of my life I was told by mother that she owed my body, my mind & my emotions. I was not permitted to be a human being. I have never been allowed to speak out any of my own history. Not allowed to trust my own perceptions because after the crimes of inhumanity by mother I was to be beat, burnt, clubbed, choked, stomped on, called a cunt, whore, bitch, pussy as she claimed I had made men molested me from the age of two. That I had made her stand over me with her club wailing down on me screaming for me to do the same task over a hundred times. Do it again, do it again, you're doing it wrong, do it again! That would go on for hours, sometimes all night. She never seem to tire while in her rages. She didn't have any empathy for my pain. She delighted in it and it the more harmed I became the more gleeful she was. I was then expected to go to school, pay attention with PTSD, ADHD and learning disabilities. At school I would be scolded and told I talked to much to my table mate, wouldn't pay attention, didn't work up to my potential, didn't finish my work, day dreamed and all the other symptoms of ADHD that was declared a behavioral problem. The solution for my behavior by the schools and my mother was severe punishment to snap me out of what my brain could not do. I was shamed to the point of not being able to speak any more in school. At home I was clubbed every night. Mother said I was an embarrassment to her. She hated the fact that I lived when she didn't want me. By 5 I was destroying myself for her by sniffing gas while playing hide & seek with the neighbor boys. I have been paying for the crimes perpetrated upon me all my life.
I heard already that I am not to blame mother. I even heard from the "SYSTEM" who constantly spoke to my nice Catholic mother how hard she was trying to get me in line. I kicked & screamed as they dragged me back to her nice Catholic home. I was told what an ungrateful child I was when my mother was so busy trying to make me a good person. As my sister were busy hiding the horrors that went on behind closed doors. As the neighbors heard the screams of anguish, saw as I was pulled by my hair down the street & into the house, I was called the problem child in our house. Every time something got broke I was to have done it. Every time baby sister got hurt, or into something I got into trouble. I was beat ^ thrown down stairs so many times I would claim my bones must have turned to rubber.
I've heard there is a cut off date for all the torment I received as a child. Expiration date that is. At 18 I was expected to not feel, think or talk about what I was not allowed to think, feel or talk about the 1st 18 years. Acually I left home at age 13. And again at age 16 & then somehow as I've been told so many times to grow up & forget about it, be an adult, listen to the well meaning therapists tell me it would do not good to relive those things, "talking about it only upsets and reinforces it they said, I have lived with the rage, the panic attacks, the incapable of learning as I am sent away to prison for 20 years for being too innocent to be innocent. They spoke to my nice Catholic mother. Every bit of their info came from her. I was the drug addict & she the thief of the lives of every one she touched. I went to prison having not been capable of learning since the age of 12 or B4 due to mother severe abuse and neglect. I am not to say I still don't pick up on social cues. I still am never sure who or what to trust. I still don't have a clue what to do in life situations. I go into shut down, blind & cannot hear words only the loudness of someone who yells at me. People who have been misguided & lied to about how all addicts are. I have not learned by experience not because I want to be inprisoned, tied up & rapped all night, throw out of cars, made blind by husband & boyfriend while others said that I deserved it if I stayed. I stayed because I was born a piece of shit by mother's words and actions. I stayed because I didn't get any of the lessons a child is supposed to get. I owed my mom. I took care of her not her of me. We all paid her every day of our lives in her house. That was the family custom. Pay to live, to eat and to breathe. I can learn tasks, chores and can get A's in just about every thing from mechanics to physiology but I cannot learn life's lessons. It is not because I am hard at all either. I am terrified to ask for help from the club of mother & my sister's having to say I was a liar so they would not get beat. We all had to deny anything happened behind closed doors. I am the empathic. I carry other peoples feelings when they deny them. I've done that since age 3. I loved my mom even though she tried to kill me by every horrifying means everyday of my life.
I know my mother was a sociopath and a killer. I saw her torture others as she did me. Worse and yet she is still who the system believed because of one thing! I an an addict!!! I have been unable to learn from the damage done to my brain from being beat almost to death weekly, from having Hep for 3 months with a temp of 105 for untreated
A few words of compassion 15 years ago is what started the demolition process from defenses, survival skills, family secrets, of my family position, a wall of rage, fear & shame. It is amazing how much life one woman can kill and one doctor can start to unravel. I didn't even know I didn't know!
I have ADHD, so bare, or is it bear, with me now. My thoughts go out in all directions, yet seem to me anyway, to come together as a cohesive package. Like pin balls all going at once. A simile of sorts are my thoughts. I compare or contrast unlike things all the time. I also have PTSD, learning disabilities, don't pick up on social ques, & I have been incapable of learning by experience since I was 11 or 12. I am little girl in big world. An impostor, telling the straight up truth and no one even understood that I was because they were so busy judging me for what I couldn't learn. telling me I deserved all the abuse I got because I refused to change while I was running triple time to keep up. It hurts more than I can speak. I am alone here. I never heard of anything like this. I have never had the words to name what was wrong with me & yet I knew I was telling the truth while being punished for it. Everyone putting their own ugly thoughts onto & into my behaviors or lack of them. I was busy trying to survive, drown out my demons and fending off the next attack. I didn't have time to put my life into perspective. I just knew I wasn't the person my family & others said I was. I have had ADHD & PTSD since before I entered kindergarten.
My death sentence began to unravel when, for the 5th time in two years, I was sitting in an ER begging for the second time in two days for someone to please help me get the poison out of me that I had placed there while trying to kill every part of me. (See told ya run on sentences)
I had to take my so called boyfriend with me because the day before an ER doc had kicked me out after doing his level worst to drain one of my two abscesses. I had only needed the draining of both & antibiotics. I wasn't looking to "make a doctor" as he snidely put it. It never even entered my mind to do so. That would have been far to complicated for me. It would mean I would have to think like an adult and I have not done that ever! I didn't know that I couldn't then.I did know I had always felt little & helpless. I thought the doc was an asshole. I thought how much easier & faster it was to get the drugs the way I had been walked through. Everything I have ever done had to be explained to me 1st. I didn't get that either. I thought I was smart because I could power read & had been able to do so since 1st grade. Anyway, the doc tells me he doesn't want to drain the abscess on my leg or give me any antibiotics. I settled for the one on my ass & left. It was the next day as I dragged my leg & the so called boyfriend into the ER that I saw that same doctor. I started to shake & begged the boy to advocate for me. Don't let them turn me away please! I needed my leg to walk the stroll & earn the rent & fixes for the both of us. I am a great provider. I learned it from my mom. I have a great & powerful work ethic as long as I am not screamed at or shamed I can work 24/7 without a compliant. I take all my earnings to the one I love even when they cheat, steal, lie and beat me. I learned that from my mom also.
I saw the disgust in the doctors face & I thought he would turn me away again. I pleaded with my boyfriend & added if you want your fix you will get him or someone to drain my leg & give me antibiotics. Donny being Donny, the cave man brute he was pushed the doc, saying, someone needs to help this girl, she was kicked out yesterday & that just ain't right. The doctor continued his same denial of the day before & my boyfriend continued to raise his voice. So much so the head of the department came over. We recounted the episode of the prior day without the part of I stank of beer, liquid courage I needed to go in for help. The head doctor asked to look at my leg. He then looked at my ass. He shook his head & asked the other doctor to come into the room. As I laid there the head doc said "is this the way you take care of a wound? And how is it this woman didn't get something to take out the infection?" HA! I thought, hows that you, who called me a piece of shit yesterday, are getting shit today!! HA! But of course I said nothing even though I have been rage all my life. I have also been far too much of a piece of shit to be worthy of asking for anything, at least not for myself. HA! The head doctor started to ask for everything he would need to give me a clavicle, as he continued his tongue lashing to the other doc.
I watched as he started to prepare me for antibiotics & told his staff he would be admitting me, then added "you should never have discharged her in this condition yesterday!" to the other doc. I was doing my level best not to feel anything just as I had done since I was two. Never feel anything because it would get me killed in my mother's house. The message came from my mother with a club in hand as far back as i could remember. I learned it along with my sisters who were never allowed to help the piece of shit who is nothing. The message is still alive today when I am around my sisters. I am to not know pain or need help. It would be selfish of me when I should be thinking of my baby sister's hard life as a pampered healer.
My sisters don't understand their subcouscous messages, still walking the talk of mother even though they deny it. It would shatter their images of them selves as loving human beings. They are but they also are very judgemental and I cannot stand to be around anyone who judges another. It hurts me. I get hurt by it and yet I am guilty of being judgemental of the judgemental. I was walking mothers talk too while I was adamantly told it was not necessary to go into the past by well intentioned therapists. Stay in the now, it doesn't help to go into that. It is over & done with. No it was not! Silence only made me sicker!
I am a perfectionist because I could never do anything right. I give everything I have away because I am selfish. I work 24/7 because I am lazy. I don't ask for help because it would have gotten me killed. Everyone must follow the rules so I don't get into trouble & get beat for what I didn't do. I am miss better homes & gardens because I am a pig. I literally go into a panic if anything is out of place or every inch of my floor is not clean & shiny. I am no good homeless, junkie, whore even though I was homeless 5 out of 52 years. I couldn't sleep with more than one man at a time & haven't slept with anyone in 7 years. Except when I had to survive, get well & support Donny. It was what got me clean also. MamA taught that to me at 2 & I swore I never would do it again but... I had to ask a girl on the street how I was to do it & make sure I get the money without getting hurt.I had to do a ride along as she showed me step by step. It is a task I learn tasks. I am a letch who deserves nothing, so I pay for everyone & don't let any man ever in life support me. NOT ever!I am not worthy of anything. And I am to snap out of all that on demand by a community college counselor in a TX center. A girl who had it so tough. Try being incapable of learning from experience since childhood because of the trauma that didn't happen & I don't know the pain from. Robbie tortured to death by a mother who told the criminal justice system I was the problem just as she told me at two I was the reason me molested me. I was the problem as she told over me with a club in her hand and whacked me every time I did tie my shoes right at the age of three. She stood over me as her husband molested me and told everyone I was lying. No one child in her family's family was safe in mother's house. As she told the criminal justice system I never learned, that was the onlt true thing she said. I never learned past the age of 12. I was too brain dead from 105 temp and no doctor. From assesses that made me hallucinate but no treatment. From my head bashed into walls for doing nothing but smiling or laughing because she demanded at 2 I was not to even look like I might think anything good of myself or face death. She hated me and I did nothing but be born my father's child. I did nothing but follow her blind rage at the end of her club. Over & over again for 16 years. I left her house owing her for the cost of raising me. She presented me with the bill of my own brain damage! She had kept a record of every cent she ever spent on each of her children! She sold our possessions out from under us. As my brother went to war she sold all his possessions. He came back to nothing! As I paid her fifty dollars a month to be free from 16 to 18. I did it because as Robbie was being tortured to death my older sister was also being beat and dragged back by police to be owned by mother. Her property to kill and maim as she wished. As Robbie was eating his own vomit the system was chastizing us for not appreciating what are nice Catholic mother was doing. They saw those children, bruised, broken arms, burnt, cut and all of us sitting there still, not even shaking because the consequences for shaking was death! And some little counselor wanted to yell at me to snap out of what every near death experience had not ever snapped me out of. All the punishment and yelling has ever done for me was make me sicker. Who does she think she is? In a position of authority and she did as all those who are in the same position has ever done- exploited and abused their position with a power trip. Can I sue? I think I will try. I will rage on and tell everyone . If I was capable of changing don't you think I would have done so? The consequences for brain damage has been too great. I cannot take another traumatic event at the hands of an authority who can be a criminal legally! 40 years I have told people I am telling the truth. I am incapable of learning that stuff. I do not fight back. I read every book I get my hands on. I can manage 7 apartment buildings but I'll be a stickler for rules for fear of someone blaming me fro something that doesn't even enter the mind of an emotional 12 IQ woman! I can barely figure out how to ask for a ride when someone is going my way. I sit there and have a panic attack. So much for the hard core drug addict theory. I knew something was wrong when I was taking a 5 year sentence for a man who threw drugs into my car, went to my home and stoled everything he could while I was in jail and then I still gave him bus fare to leave! That has been my pattern. I don't leave anyone. I let my husband beat my head in, cheat on me while telling me it was all my fault he did and I said I was sorry and how could I make it up to him!! I know what I did. As the neighbors told my 7 year old good I hope she is dead when she went to call 911 because I gave all the money to a husband who didn't even give me any drug, any child support, never paid a dime for anything in 9 years and didn't even want to put his name on the birth certs. I also got high risk probation for being married to man like that as the PO said. I had an attempted thief. Baby tooth brushes, baby aspirin, a table cloth, and a shower curtain. I was age 28. And I got scared so I put them somewhere else in the store. Even the store detectives said I had returned all items and was walking away but the judge said he needed to give me a lesson. I never got off that probation for 12 years!! I lost every time because I could not stand up for me. I could not protect me. And I felt rage. RAGE for knowing I told the truth. I am still gullible and I still lose everything over and over again from being pushed from the outside with people who do not get I am learning impaired. Instead they make up every ugly, nasty, hideous projection they can as I sit and don't talk back. If ever I could I would just say simply FUCK UP and then I would be accused of having an attitude problem and I was told to stop blaming mama. Well I am 12 who the hell do you think bashed my head in and molested me since 2 causing this brain damage/ me?
Did I tell you I have repetition compulsion?
I saw the doctors eyes. He was kind and gentle. I felt concern rather than the rejection I had received in truck loads up to then. It wasn't that i saw him as the savior or an infatuation as I had done with my 1st counselor at age 19. He made me feel human again. I hadn't felt human since i was a teenager riding my bike to & along the river. My bike gave me freedom then and the doctor was starting to give it to me again by his gentle demeanor. As he made the incision into my collar area & inserted the tubes, one for medicine in & one for blood draws out, he said softly " I can only imagine how hard it must be to get off of drugs. It must be harder for you do to so then it was for me to go through medical school."
No one had been as kind to me since I was a 13 year old getting my face cleaned and treated by a friends mother after 6 boys had cycled me, beat me up and threw matches into my hair while traffic rolled by with no one intervening. I had screamed F U at them after they said sexual things to me. I knew the going home hurt would only get me hurt worse. It would have been fruitless to even tell my mother. All she would have done was told me I deserved it, that I brought it on myself, and to shut the F up & get my lazy ass to work. Here was a man who had never met me before treating me kinder than my own family ever had. I started to melt, the hard ice shell I had put on as a two year old to survive as a piece of shit in my mother's house was beginning to melt. I was shame just as I was at two but I felt myself relaxing even if ever so little. I couldn't afford anymore opening up to be hurt. My pat answers had always been I'm Ok, no I am not hurt, it ain't nothing, and take your God and shove it, talk to the hand the heart is rage. But as I went away alone I prayed, please God help me do for me what I don't know how to do for myself. Please let me be good enough to be alive somewhere. It is the magical thinking of a 12 year old. that is when I had received all the damage a human being could take while being told You don't know pain." I still hear those words from my sisters 40 years of consequences later. 40 years of more trauma and being told I deserve them because I don't learn from them!
I am still giving everything away. I am still believing & trusting people who will rip me off, beat me and tell me I am a pig while they eat the food I put on their plates. While I am being told I must wait for everyone else to dish up B4 I can. This from a sister who tells me I was loved & adored as a child as she repeats over & over I am to not know pain. As I have anxiety if anything in my home is out of place. Everything must be prefect or else I cannot sleep & yet my sisters say I am a pig.
They continue to try to tell me who and what I am. After 9+ years of doing my own inventory and working until I dropped, I am told by my sisters I am lazy. I scrubbed my skid row room walls and carpet because I have to have everything prefect & yet my sister call me names. Everything I do is a direct result from the childhood trauma & torture. I went to school rarely as a child. I missed out on the play that allows a child to be social. By second grade as they stopped putting me into a drawer, I was giving all my Barbies to my baby sister. I could design & decorate a mansion in the attic but the interaction of play was not there for me. I could not even pretend anymore. My sister liked to tell me how stupid I was to give everything to her. She told me how much all those Barbies are worth today. What I didn't hear was thank you. I bought 22 LBs of butter for my sisters and was told it wasn't enough. I worked all day cleaning & gardening at one of my sister's houses and when she came home she told me I didn't do anything right, didn't deserve to be thanked for earning my keep, even though I paid her rent & gave her boxes of food from my food hording.
As I was getting sicker on a drug the doctors gave me & told me my self combust feeling was my anxiety. The cinder blocks on me was fatigue. The confusion was just a passing phase. I doubted myself so much I believed and trusted doctors I had rarely gone to for 49 years. Every side effect so mimicked my own symptoms I believed them. As I got worse i still believed them. And when I took too many of the pain pills and valium that had been prescribed from another doctor. I had been telling the doctors something was very wrong with me but not once did it enter my mind it was the CYmbalta. That didn't enter my mind until I was falling & stumbling & begging a drug counselor for over a year for help. He said I was clean & even though I had tried to commit suicide twice in one week he could do nothing for me. I would zombie/ veg out every week to hearing how well i was doing not doing anti-anxiety pills. I told the drug intake I was going blind but that too was shrugged off. No one seems to get I have disabilities of a mental sort. I am smart & look normal so I am to be treated as if I know how to do things I have never had an opportunity to do. I have been fending off the next insult for not doing the very things I have never done before. Would one ask a blind man to see? Or a man with a broken leg to walk? But if the disability is of a mental sort nothing but punishment is metered out. how easy it was for one doctor to speak kind words that would start me on a path to health that other doctors refused to understand and would take me off that same path. How easy it is for even the recovering community to judge as I rocked in a TX center for 7 months begging for help and being called a hypochondriac. When it strikes fear in me, total paranoia to even think to ask for help after getting nothing but more traumatizing within a system who believes more punishment will remove the mental illness & brain damage I received at the hands of a mother who believed I was not a human being. If she would have done a 1000th of that same damage to an adult she would be in prison for life. And when I tell anyone & everyone who will listen, even a scholarship committee about my mom torturing Robbie to death from the ages of 2 to 4, he took every inhuman torture just as I had, and yet no one blinks an eye, not then and not now. I refused to do as she did. I was rage. I am rage. Feel as if I will explode but I refuse to lash out. I would rather destroy myself then do so. But if you hear it from my sister they will tell you how I stood up to mother as they ran. They would shake their arms at me trying to tell me not to get in her face. I never hit her until I thought she had me at death & then I rose up and slapped her. To save my own life as I wanted to die. Not at Satan joyces hands and not to allow her to harm my sisters. And today they still don't get it while they say I am the very opposite of who I am, they don't get my motives and have not ever said thank you. Just as I grabbed Robbie and ran to the bushes over & over again. I had my hands held behind my back from Satan's husband Jim. He is a child molester, so was his dad and so is their son. Jim held me as Joyce clubbed, choked, slapped, punched, pulled my hair, and every other ungodly good Catholic mother action she could think of to harm the child she would not name. I don't talk back to my sisters. I don't talk back to anyone. I take it and take it until I am rage. But I refuse to be like her. It is easy for others to condemn me and call me names. I don't talk back. BUT if you think for a single second you will harm another in front of me, you got another thing coming! That is and has been where I stand up! I have done that same thing since I was a kid. I walk away and grumble if you be rate me but Robbie died because I took him back and NO ONE BELIEVED ME THAT SHE WAS TORTURING HIM!!! She killed him and my sisters called me a liar. I have been telling the truth since I was 12. I have been gullible and I don't pick up on social stuff because I literally have been in isolation since I had my arms & legs tied down at 6 months old. I stank and no one wanted me anywhere near them. They screamed at me as if I was a lizard, stomped on me and I have not fought back except to keep my physical body alive here on earth. I am not sure why I have lived or even want to live. As a two year community college counselor yelled at me to snap out of what my brain could not do, I did not fight back. As all those little girls yelled are you stupid or what? And the continual question of "what's wrong with you?' I didn't fight back nor could I. I was having a nervous breakdown from 52 years of not EVER asking for help, she would have killed us , being hurt, sick or tired. I who was not allowed to feel the torture my own mother perpetrated onto me & others. I the one who hides if I get hurt for fear of getting beat. I have PTSD from 52 years of not ever being hurt and a 2 year community college counselor who refused me medical help along with her bosses just because I am an addict who is supposed to be something I am not. 9+ years I had to peel the onion back to my core & a little girl of 32 thought she knew better than the experts with 15 years of education. Continued to yell at me to stop blaming a drug that rendered me a zombie/ vegetable with a sister dressing me for over a year and yet counselor girl called it blaming. called my flashbacks being negative, called my validating myself as she asked me to do bragging. I am an introvert off the charts. My locus of control is outside of me as it has had to be to fend off ever ugly word and accusations the world has projected on to me as I spent 40 years incapable of learning and being called a liar who deserved all the neck slicing, black eyes, thrown out of cars, tied up and rapped twice for 24 hours, and a little know it all thought if she pushed her control she would snap me out of what 40 years of consequences have not done.
I am soft not hard. I am kind. I give & work until I drop for people who were homeless. I did it because someone did it for me. And no one gets my disabilities and Cymbalta took me out. It was the attention once again on the drug, one symptom of the underlining issue that has diverted the attention of even the drug counselors who KNOW NOTHING OF MENTAL HEALTH that kept me from getting the help that I begged & pleaded for from them for 7 months. If any one has ever had a panic attack you would know you cannot advocate for yourself in the mist of one. I was having them 24/7 as little girls of 20 & 30 yelled at me along with their counselor. Be grateful they said. I heard my mother say "you are lucky I let you breathe." That is all I could hear when they kept screaming at me saying I was doing things that never entered my mind. I was too busy trying to hold on and not break. I broke though. I broke and screamed into the phone please help me they are all yelling at me please I can't see. I can hear words only noise and yet the counselors continued to call me a hypochondriac. I kept thinking how insane I was and how if they only knew my stuff they would get it. It was from me blaming me as I was almost killed into believing, if anything or anyone hurts me or calls me names I say I'm sorry. I say it's all my fault not the other way around fool! Counselor with no knowledge of the mentally ill screaming at me as I had a nervous breakdown and went blind since 2007 I had been going blind. But because I am an addict not a soul would listen. It must be the drugs, no the counselor downtown said he would not help so I went back & hide in a garage not able to walk anymore without stumbling. I fell like a tree and no drugs for over 9 months made it better. The Cascadia walk in people pushed me out after I told them that Cymbalta wasn't working. They tried to raise the dose from ity NOT working! I told Dr Thyar I couldn't cope & he told me he either put me back on Cymbalta or nothing at all. Fine I said I take nothing but then he writes client wants to give her brain a rest. YA right! I ran to every place I could find screaming please help me I am having a nervous breakdown but everyone just got more angry with me. I couldn't even see the street signs. I could barely remember where or want I was doing but still no one helped me. Snap out of it was what I got. Do foot work they said. I could barely figure out what day of the week it was & had to ask every day maybe twice & three times. Rocking & rocking begging for help as every health care provider, every doctor pushed me out of their office. I am two months out of treatment and I am hiding in my room terrified to go ask for help again! NOTHING BUT re traumatizing every time just because people think an addict is... I am in prison in my own room. I have been in isolation since I was a child and incapable of learning soft skills since 12.But no one gets it until a preacher in jail, a guard who gave me every co-dependent book she could, another who told me I didn't belong there. In prison they called me crazy because I was happy. I had a place to work 7 days a week. a safe place where I wouldn't be rapped, beat and thrown out of cars. I was happy in the hospital too. I want to die. I took 20 years of gold to a shelter & because I was considered homeless even though that is 5 years, maybe, of 52 years and I spent most of that time in a jail cell. I trade one cell for another getting myself into trouble for not picking up on the danger signs. I lived with a sociopath killer mother how do you think that ought to effect one?
As they wheeled me up to a ward I was happy as I knew to be. I was on vacation if even for a day or two. Oh thank the God I denied ever knowing for a small reprieve. A small moment in time where I was safe, not having to get my lazy ass to work for someone who would beat me & say I was a worthless whore. Also mother's words by the time I was two. I was thinking about food all the way up. Not the drugs, not any of what the doctors accused me of, just food & a quiet moment, safe in a clean room.
Donny left me alone. I was so happy! I had a TV and clean sheets! Another doctor came in to tell me that the hospital was tried of trying to put me together while I kept tearing myself apart. I didn't get it then but i never had any other example except the examples & words of my mother calling me a cunt, whore, no good, should of given you away when I had the chance by 4. I didn't know! I did know I had been using drugs & alcohol since age 5 maybe before. Whisky in the bottle was suggested for babies in the 50's & 60's. I did know I had been trying to kill myself since I was 5. No one was allowed to help me. I was told to figure it out yourself stupid. Those words rang in my ears constantly. Every time someone talked bad to me I would beat myself up from what all the reinforcement that went with my torture being something she said I made happen. She told me I was the reason she clubbed me and sold me to men at 3 & 4. So fused with my being abused was the message that I needed to change what I did & said to stop the batteries rather than the thought of I should get away from this person. I would berate me right along with anyone who hurt me.
I was happy and safe as the doc came in. As the doc explained to me he would be giving me just enough pain killers for the abscesses. But not enough to stay well as they had done the last 4 times. OK I am OK with that Doc. I get that I am destroying myself but I seen to have forgotten why. i know my mother & Ex-husband said everything was all my fault. That I was respocible for their bashing holes in the wall with my head. I was responcible for his being an addict & a cheater. If I wasn't such a bitch he wouldn't have take all our babies money and leave us to move 9 times by ourselves. He wouldn't have to sleep with my 13 year old baby sitter while I worked at a job. He wouldn't even go to the job I got him! He quit his jobs when the govenment started to ask him to support his own babies. He didn't even want his name on the birth certs. I couldn't leave him because I thought he would die without me as he liked to say everytime I got tired of being a single mom on welfare, pregnant 3 years running. Being called a rabbit by the docors. Being told I should cut it off which I did by not having sex anymore with a cheater who would sleep with man, woman or child. But of corse he said what I saw didn't happen. He kept me so isolated. I was to pick between my family or him. My friends gave up after 3 years of him telling them they were not allowed over while being his wife. I was to stop the Army because I wanted to be a man. I was to stop going to school because my job, army & school was too much time away from him. As my world got smaller he told me I need to stay in the bedroom when his people came over. The less I knew he said the better. I started to have to get permission to speak to anyone or anyone to speak to me. By the time I had my second daughter I was going sick 3 days running while I gave all my methadone to him after running through back yards to keep the FBI away from him. I was never allowed in the same room most of the time. I knew people's vioces but not their faces. i was told to shut up bitch no one is talking to you & no one gave you permission to speak. I have panic just thinking about him. I wouldn't give him 9 minutes today. I would never allow myself to give him all my children's money as I went sick for him for days I didn't even take my own medicine. He took it and left me sick to take care of "my" babies. I made the wrong choose. I lost my babies by telling him no & then running! I lost them because once again I was so mentally, emotionally and physically ill I couldn't put them thru any more of me not being able to protect myself from their father or to protect them from him or others. I couldn't hurt anyone any more by my not wanting to do to others as my mother did to me. She had a different man for each child. That is one reason I stayed. I stayed because I believed every time he cheated and beat me up it was my fault just as my mother taught me since birth. I have been being beat just for living since birth. I want to die and don't know how to do it without causing myself more pain or hurting the only child I have that will forgive me and talk to me again. I hold out in hopes I can get my babies back. I am 12!
At that time my childhood had been snapshots blacked out by drugs & booze. At that time I was still taking on all the words, judgements, acts penetrated onto me and viciousness of the very people who claimed to cared about me and accepting it all as something I had done or brought upon myself. I had brought it on by not the way others think. I brought it on my accepting what I heard & was beat & robbed from me as something I deserved just as my mother had clubbed, molested, drown, comited, choked,thrown the stairs, slammed, slapped, beat over the head, and burnt into every part of my psyhcie. Most people know it is not their fault when people rape them. I have been told since I was 2 that every evil act my mother allowed to happen or did onto me was brought on by me. That is why I had always froze when assaulted & then went away in shame chastising myself for allowing myself to be hurt and not saying, doing or reporting any of it. I had always felt I was to blame not them. I also didn't get that I was incapable of learning by experience due to that earlier trauma. I literally could not see danger. I didn't pick up on the ques. Why would I? I lived & loved with a mother who was a sociopath, sex addict, child molester, rageaholic, hater of the world, Catholic who slept with every man who would give her a dime. I had to pay for being allowed to live every day of my life. My sisters still laugh about how I was stuck into drawers as if it is a joke. They say I don't know pain. I know pain! I have literally put myself into every situation that would give me more trauma and said I wasn't hurt while apologizing every time I got beat. I'll be good. I'll give you more money! I'm sorry I made you cheat. I'll do anything so you wont hit or call me bad names. That was me all the way up to a nervous breakdown in an inpatient TX center, my 3rd in life. That is were I felt the rage again. The rage I had carried all my life for being blamed for my own torture & loving the one who tortured me.
See I go all over the place. My writing teachers all told me to rein it in while they asked me to continue writing until the snapshots of my childhood became a series. Until my triggers & panic attacks became something other then visceral and at the cellular level. I never had thoughts to put to the intense reactions of fear I had at the slightest provocations. I was sick of people telling me I was silly when I would go blind & could not understand words while having another crippling panic attack. I was sick of the modern philosophy saying there was no need to go into the past to heal the now. To stay in my now was all I had while trying to fend off every ugly word I ever heard about why I didn't do this or that. I didn't know how! I had never been guided through any of what a child needs for a foundation. I heard stop blaming when I wasn't blaming. I was having a panic attack. I was trying to tell people I literally never had an opportunity to learn any of what they took for granted. Everything I knew came from a book.
I was too busy working & being so traumatized, shameful, timid, too afraid to ask for a raise, to afraid if I asked for what I thought was fair I would lose my job. I was still like that at age 39 when a Jesuit Priest told me I was being taken advantage of by a non profit company I worked two positions with. i did so on & off for 9 + years. Heck it took me two days of talking & processing in a 12 step meeting on how to stand up for myself after s counselor screamed at me on a Friday. I built up my confidence but as I walked into her office on a Monday she said she was sorry for her delivery but that the info she gave me was valid. No one since I was 4 had ever apologized to me. no one ever believed me when I told them the truth. I couldn't pay attention I had & have ADHD. Punished for it all my life. Told to snap out of it constantly. Told i must like to get into trouble or else I'd stop, sit still & do my work in a noisy call room. i couldn't think as hard as I tried! I failed at everything & yet I knew every bit of the information. I finally got accommodations in college and was able to get A's. Told I had too high of scores to be a Drug & Alcohol counselor. My softness, my uncertainty from a lifetime of being punished & told I was making excuses for something I didn't even know I had. I've heard it all. All the insults while I had been so brutalized as a child, so not allowed to be hurt, don't know pain my family says while I literally couldn't learn after being harmed so severely and witnessing mother torture a boy of 2 just a severely as she had me. More! It hurt me worse to see him beat into hamburger. To hear his screams from blocks away as I walked home from a school I could barely attend. Not when the teacher screamed & shamed me daily as I went blind & couldn't understand her words while having a panic attack. Just didn't know it was a panic attack. Nothing was ever to be wrong with me & everything was wrong with me according to the schools, according to my family, according to the police who had to carry me back to mother's house of horrors kicking and screaming. I had been kicking & creaming begging to not go back since I was two. People tell me to not blame mother. I really don't. I was the one who went back to her time & time again to ask her to love me as I loved her. I was the one who went back & made my amends to her at the age of 44. I believed whole heatedly I had wronged her. That was when I still could not remember. In treatment I was so disabled, After a year of hardly able to understand words or dressing myself, I get put into a wild TX center with a counselor who will not allow me to finish a sentence without her cutting me off and demanding I do as she says. Her way or else she would take what I told her behind closed doors and throw it out in groups. I was shamed for letting her know she knew nothing about my history. She knew nothing about my learning disabilities. Just as teachers thought if they shamed and punished me I would suddenly snap out of what my brain cannot do. I pushed myself in TX because no one would listen and kept telling me I was a hypochondriac. Look into my history stupid before you start projecting! 51 years of NO DOCTORS!!! I am afraid of doctors!! I don't know how to advocate for myself and leave without getting any better. I leave sicker then I walk in. I leave feeling like a piece of shit. WHY would I go to a doctor? I never was allowed a doctor as a kid. That would have exposed mother as the torturer she is. In my family I don't know pain. I am not allowed to have it! I was screaming for help and a little 32 year old know it all couldn't listen to anything but her own ego disguised as a helper. NO savior to me. As she tried to say something to me after 3 months of barely seeing me,of 3 months of me not being capable of taking myself to a group. The thought sickened me. I sat through enough groups while barely able to understand a word being said. I kept asking for help and to be safe but instead I was pushed into walls by girls as they ran by, I was told I was inconsiderate because I turned on a light after I wet my pants, as the Christian girl yelled at me in front of others about me not having common curiosity. She also told me it was God's will I take sleeping in a room with a girl who had sleep snoring, stop breathing just as the molester of 14 years had. I begged please I just need a small space to be safe anywhere her. I cannot see, I don't know what day it is, I cannot remember where I put my papers. I was yelled at by a group of girls just out of their street addictions and I had been in isolation for two years prior and I have been an agoraphobic since 13. The stereo typing of an addict. I stayed alone away from any part of anything. I didn't even know my husband was gay after 9 years. I was so ridiculously stupid! I didn't have anyone for 9 years in that marrage. No friends or family. I got only what he wanted me to know. I was believed to know what I did not know. It was only after going to prison did anyone get just how silly innocent I still was. I still do the same things. I believe in people who rob me blind and I feel side swiped! Does that sound street savvy? so I am paying a high price for what no one seems to get. I have had brain damage since 12 and the test show I am incapable of learning those skills. I am terror now. afraid of who or what I may fall for again. So I sit alone afraid to go to another doctor or stupid uneducated counselors for help. I will get pushed out and told to figure out what I haven't figured for 40 years. No more trauma please. I don't learn by punishment and consequences. It just brings more trauma!! Forty years of being called a liar is more than I can take! I still have not lashed out and I still don't have a clue as to where to go for help. People just get frustrated with me. Even the trauma nurses! No one gets I am incapable of what they keep trying to punish me out of. I hurt so bad. I am not even liked in a NA meeting anymore. The people who liked me before my relapse wont talk to me any more. I just get rejected there too. And now I don't even want to go ther, I feel shame & rage. I heard spiritual principles but I didn't see the carried out. I saw & felt judgement and rejection so I am going to go to DDA. A place where they understand mental illness and brain damage.
