Archive for January, 2011

January 29, 2011

Warning signs of a child molester…

This is to the person who found my blog who googled “Warning signs of a child molester”  (site stats gives me lots of info, no names but lets me know how people find my blog!)………..

Your warning sign is your gut!  If you suspect it – believe it!

I am so very sorry!  If you think someone you are living with might be, and you have children…  LEAVE! NOW!

Your children are worth it!  You are worth it!  And it is so much better to be safe than sorry.

Don’t put your child through hell!  Trust me, if they are molested they will grow up hating themselves.  They will attempt to destroy themselves and anyone who tries to love them.

Most never get past the self loathing.  I am one of the lucky ones! But even after all I have been through, I still have to work on it sometimes!

My heart breaks for what you are going through!

I am sending you all of my love!

Veronica

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January 26, 2011

Every Choice You Make

Me in 2003affects the people around you.  I chose to overwhelm myself.  I chose to place others needs in front of my own.  I chose to lock myself away from those that I blamed for my dissent into a chaotic world.  For part of 2001 and 2002 I made choices that not only affected my mental health, but the mental health of everyone around me. To prove the gravity of my self-destruction, one of the many effects for me was a weight loss of almost 75 lbs.  The effect it had on others is unmeasurable!  Some say that people inherently know right from wrong, I agree with that statement, however, I have witnessed what one person’s insanity can do to another.   How it can change a person.  And although they realize their actions are not “right”, the line of right and wrong becomes fuzzy, skewed.  My line had been that way since childhood, Mike’s line became that way in adulthood.

For every action there is a reaction.  It is the domino effect.

Mike reacted.  He reacted by first trying to fix it!  It could be anything and everything.  And when he found he could not fix anything he turned on himself.  He started to self destruct.

Mike is one of the kindest, most gentle humans you will ever meet.

But he became explosive.  And our home took his wrath.  Windows, walls, etc….  but never me!  His self-destruction did not stop there, but out of respect for my darling husband I shall stop there!

Mike became afraid of who he had become.  And we decided to separate.  About a month later…. I filed for divorce!

And I emerged from my self-induced seclusion.

January 13, 2011

Just leave me alone!

Although I went back to work, I was not there long!

I filed a complaint with the company I worked for against my boss…

All hell broke loss!  It became unbearable… I took a leave of absence.

I went home, crawled into bed and stayed there for almost a year.  I did not drive, I did not go to the grocery store, I literally did not leave the house by myself!  The only trips I took outside of the house Mike drove me.  And the only places I went to were to Sinead’s office and my psychiatrist.

I locked myself away from the world.  As much as I wanted to be ok… I had just had it! Had it with humans and no longer cared if I saw another one… EVER! I shrank down my world to only a few people.  I just wanted to be left alone!

This placed an enormous strain on an already fragile marriage and a fragile Mike.  Both were suffering greatly! And soon both would fall apart!

January 12, 2011

911 what is your emergency?

“I can’t wake up my wife!”

“Sir, is she breathing?”

“I am not sure!”

“An ambulance is on the way.”

This is only a part of the conversation my husband, Mike, had with the 911 operator the week after the 4th of July in 2002.  I am sure if I pressed him he could tell me more but there is really no point.

At approximately 1 pm an ambulance arrived at our home to take me to the hospital.  I remember very little about the events of the next several days.  When I finally woke up a social worker came in to ask me questions.  Then a psychiatrist, several doctors and nurses followed. 

They all asked me similar questions, “Are you anorexic?” “Do you take illegal drugs?”  “Are you bulimic?” “Did you harm yourself?”  “What did you take?”  “Do you want to die?”

The answer to every questions was an emphatic NO!

Finally, a doctor came in to talk to me.  He told me I had been brought to the hospital by ambulance two days prior.  I was in ICU for 24 hrs and then moved to a room.  I was suffering from severe dehydration and was begining to show signs of malnutrition.  He told me if I had arrived at the hospital just a couple of hours later I would probably be dead.  He went on to tell me that my husband said I had not been sleeping, so when he left for work that morning and I was still asleep he decided not to wake me up.  But hours later, when he could not reach me by phone, he returned home to check on me.  Mike could not wake me up, so he called 911.  The doctor went on to tell me that my tox screen had came back negative, however, he would like to have me comitted for anorexcia.  I actually laughed.  Then I started to cry because I knew he was serious. 

When Mike returned to my room I was in tears.  I was scared to death.  I had no idea what in the hell was going on.  I had not realized I was not eating.  I had not realized how little I was sleeping.  And I did not want to go back to a crazy hospital. 

My darling husband advocated for me.  He convinced the doctor not to have me commited.  He promised I would get the help I needed.  The next day I was released in the care of my husband and already had an appointment with my psychiatrist. 

More meds, weekly psych visits, an eating program to get me back on solid foods, and a week off of work. 

Then the search for a therapist started… 

Mike came up with a list of about 8 therapist in our area.  And one by one they were eliminated after one visit. 

The interview: “I want to have a real life, I want to be ok, can you help me do that?”  They all said, “Yes, I can help you do that.”  Then I ask, “I want to eventually be ok without being on medication, can you help me do that?”  They all said no… all that is, but one!  And she said “Yes!” 

And so it began… my journey home.  As with any journey there were moments when I was not sure if I could keep moving forward, there were major setbacks, and major triumphs! 

I owe my life to Sinead.  Not the breathing, bleeding life I have.  But the happy, I love my life – life that I have!  She would tell you I don’t owe her anything because I was the one who did the work.  But she was my guide, my parent, and my muse…

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January 11, 2011

A Thousand Words

does a picture speak……….

Almost 200. lbs!

This day should have been one of the happiest days of my life.  The truth is I was desperate to be happy but I had no idea how to be.  I had hoped by getting married to Mike it would help me to feel like he loved me.  Love was so foreign to me.  Between my examples of what love looked like and the mind numbing medication, I was clueless.  And Mike desperately wanted me to be happy and wanted me to feel loved so he married me.  But Mike had his own demons he was dealing with and it was not until a week after he and I got married that we told anyone that we did it.  Not his family or mine… our wedding was a secret. 

Secrets!  More damn secrets! 

Sadly, this added to the near end of our marriage.  (And yes we are still together but in 2003 I filed for divorce). Although everyone finally knew we were married I held on tight to the secret I had to keep for months as I planned our honeymoon and the hurt of having a wedding shower with only a few friends there.

It also added to my crash.  Please do not misunderstand me, I am not placing blame.  I do not blame Mike for my crash.  I made a choice, and although I thought I had no options at the time, now I know I made a choice! 

About two years later I would be almost half of that weight. 

In two years I would weigh the most I ever have and the least I ever have. 

January 10, 2011

Warning signs of an imminent crash

Diary entries:

February 3rd 2002

I sat in the parking lot of Kroger tonight and cried for a while.  I am not sure why. 

February 5th 2002

Bobby called me on my cell phone and said he wanted to thank me.  Since Kelly left him he could not have made it without me being his friend.  He said he was so glad I am so strong.  He just doesn’t know!

February 7th 2002

I can’t figure out what my problem is.  I just wish I felt like Mike loves me.  Shit!  What is my problem. 

February 15th 2002

I pigged out today!

February 17th 2002

I had a really bad day today. It started with the Jackson and Sons account and after making several trips to the back, pissed off,  one of the guys says “Call your Mom… Moms have a way of making you feel better!”  I wanted to scream! 

March 15th 2002

Damn I have become so forgetful!  I forgot an appointment today.  Shit I am so pissed at myself.  And now Mr S-hole is going to use it as an excuse to ride with me.  DAMN IT! 

March 20th 2002

Work was hell, everything went wrong.  I am not doing good.  I had a panic attack on my way home.  They only seem to happen when I am driving.  Dr appointment Wednesday! 

May ? 2002

I have not written in a while.  I just don’t even feel like it!

June 4th 2002 (my last entry for 2002)

Today was a f-uped day!

January 9, 2011

The Poem

 

I had carried this with me since 1992, but several years ago I cleaned out my purse and put it away.  I was cleaning out my closet today and come across it and felt compelled to share it with you!  I hope you love it as much as I have since I first read.  Although I did not get it then, I cherished it and read it often.  But now I know that with every goodbye you really do learn!
Comes The Dawn
Author: Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong,
And you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn…
With every goodbye you learn.

 

 

January 7, 2011

Lunch

I met my Dad for lunch in June of 2002.  We met at Schlotzsky’s on 1960.  I remember walking in and ordering and thinking how odd I felt.  I had an enormous sense of doom that was almost overwhelming.

Dad and I sat down at a table that  was away from everyone else.

There was no small talk… no “So how has your day been?”  Or “How is everyone?”  The minute we sat down my Dad said, “I went to the doctor this morning and I have cancer.”  We sat in silence for a moment.  I had no idea how to respond.  He continued to tell me that it was prostate cancer and that he had told no one else and was not sure if he would.  He informed me that he would not do any conventional treatment.  He would cure it on his own.  He had also informed the doctor which responded, according to Dad, that he would be dead in 8 yrs.

These are my fathers own words from his blog on YANA ( http://www.yananow.org ) …

“When I was a fifty-nine year old 175 pound white male (now 170 pounds)., my Doctor discovered my cancer in June of 2002 ( PSA 2.3 ng/ml and Gleason Score of 7 with 3 out of 6 samples testing positive). I started following the plan I set out below and it took only one-hundred days for all my systems to return to normal(my cancer was very aggressive and I had many symptoms – painful ejaculations, an overwhelming urge to urinate, frequent trips to the bathroom, pain in the groin, and blood in the urine. ). A follow-up examination found a 20% decline in my PSA (it changed to 1.7 ng/ml). Your oncologist may tell you that you will be dead very soon if you try this treatment. I have refused the conventional treatment of surgery or radiation and my Doctor gave me eight years to live if I tried this new treatment. All four other Cancer Doctors that I have consulted said, if I can keep my PSA low I will be OK (nobody gets sick and dies with a PSA under 10). Seventy percent of seventy year old men have PCa.”

When we left he gave me a one-armed hug.  The only kind he ever gave.  Stiff as a board with no emotion attached.

For weeks I felt this additional heavy burden come over me.  Not because my Dad had cancer, but because I did not feel anything.  I was not sad.  I believed I should have been and the guilt of not being sad was heavy.

The first six months of 2002 was a hell.  Not only did I carry this burden all by myself, I was working 70+ hours a week, visiting Nanny every chance I had, Mike and I were fighting almost all the time and I was fighting off my boss.

I felt hopeless… and went through everyday in a haze.

Then the week after July 4th, 2002 I finally crashed!  And I crashed hard!

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