Mike and I started talking… a lot.

I wanted him to understand why I was so screwed up. Why I did the things I did. But how can you explain something to someone you do not understand yourself?

I wanted my relationship to work with Mike and I wanted to be a good Mom.  So I sought help.

I found a new psychiatrist and a new therapist.

The psychiatrist performed tons of test.  Word associations, ink blot, history evaluations, etc… all which added up to…

LABELS!  Bi-polar, several personality disorders, severe depressant… and more

And a laundry list of psychotropic meds.

Therapy turned out to be nothing more than blaming all of my issues on my parents.  True they had a great influence on who I was… but really???

Here are the three questions we worked on for months…

1) How do you feel about your Moms death? [Hmmm, let me think about that…. bad?]

2) How do you feel about your Dad molesting you? [Hmmm, I have no idea?]

3) And my all time favorite…. How would your life be different if all of this had not happened to you? [REALLY?]

Mike and I continued to work on our relationship and he eventually moved back in.

I became a zombie again.  No emotion.. I never cried, I rarely smiled.  I was just nothing.  The meds turned me into to nothing.  But nothing was better than the alternative…. CRAZY!

For about four years I did OK.  I held down a job and eventually found an even better job.  Mike and I rarely fought.  He was an awesome step-dad.  Jake was doing good. Mike and I got married in 2001.  I was HUGE! I weighed over 200 lbs on my wedding day! In part because of the meds.  In part because the meds don’t just magically make you love you!

But the truth is, I felt nothing.  I knew I loved my son, but I could no longer feel it.  I knew I loved Mike, but I could no longer feel it either.  I believed it was something I could live with.  And I did live with it… until 2002!





One Comment to “Labels”

  1. I loved this post. I like your honesty. I am on pins and needles waiting to read about 2002. Sending love.

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