Posts tagged ‘Chaos’

September 14, 2011

Labels

I have been thinking about all of the labels;

Labels I gave myself: damaged, broken, unlovable, easily abandoned, fat…

Labels someone else gave me: depressed, manic depressive, bipolar, histrionic, major depressive…

I am not any of those things. Was I ever? Who cares!

I have no labels, I removed them because they did not belong! They were confining and I attempted to conform to them. Once removed I was free! I am free! Free to be happy. Free to be OK! Free to be ME!

Do you want to know how to remove yours? There is no secret to it. No Goo-gone needed. Just never again say “I am bipolar, depressed, a victim …”

Replace them with true descriptions: hungry, tired, excited, human…

Labels are for boxes and you certainly are not a box!

September 12, 2011

Taking responsibility – a response

It is easy to blame others for our problems. But as long as we blame others for our issues there is nothing we can do to overcome them.

Being depressed, manic, addicted, etc may be blamed on the fact that we were abused, neglected, molested, or just mistreated as children. As long as we stay in the blame mode we will continue to be depressed, manic, addicted, etc. It is my experience, however, that once a person takes responsibility for their depression, manic behavior, addictions, etc., a person can take actions necessary to not only overcome those issues but thrive and truly find happiness.

Everyday I am faced with challenges. As I am sure you are as well. Everyday I am given choices to make. I can either make good choices or bad choices. I consider the choices I make everyday. I am not perfect, I still make mistakes. When I do make a mistake I reflect on what I could have done differently and choose to do that next time.

Am I unique, am I so superior that I am able to do what no other person can? Of course not. Any human can choose happiness.

So why do so many choose to be depressed, manic, addicted, etc.? I believe many people do not realize they have a choice. No one has ever told them they have a choice. Sadly, even therapist, psychologist, and psychiatrist do not share this information. Instead they say take this pill, or they help place blame.

As I have said before, some people need medication because their brain is just so overwhelmed. But good therapy should follow or accompany medication.

After my last post I rattled some cages. In response…

Let me state clearly, I am not placing blame on the victim. I have taken some time to respond because I chose to really consider this post.

The answer is… stop being a victim! Be a victor! Choose happiness. Work to be happy. And if you do not know how, then go to every therapist in the phone book and say “I want to be able to choose to be happy – can you help me do that?” Find one that says “Yes, I can!” And then hold them to it!

August 28, 2011

It bothers me, “the blame game”

It bothers me when I read of people who are stuck in the blame game. I know that it shouldn’t because I lived there for so many years.

I think it bothers me because I know what life can be like when you let the blame go.

I once blamed my bipolar, depression, chaos, etc, on my mother and father.

True, they could have been much better parents. True, I was really dysfunctional because it was the only thing I knew. But I took responsibility for my actions. I took me away from them! I took the initiative to learn a different way to live.

So many live everyday in despair and it breaks my heart.

I read many blogs. Blogs that are authored by people who were abused.

My hope is that they read my blog. Read it so you will know you no longer have to live in chaos. You can make this life the best life ever!

You have to work hard, you have to choose to be real with yourself. You will have to choose to be honest with yourself. You will have to choose to see the ugly truth. The truth is your chaos is YOU! Not your parents, or your abuser, or who ever you blame.

Your life today – the chaos, depression, bipolar disorder is not someone else fault, it is yours!

August 24, 2011

Normal?

It is hard to gauge, when you have a history, what is normal and what is not. As I mentioned in my last post I was not sure if I had the will to be OK. I felt as if I were cracking into pieces again.

The first months after my Dad died was very tough. The truth is it would have been tough for most people. The difference is history. My history!

As each day passed I began to sleep, which as I have mentioned is a big part of the battle!

But after a month of struggling I knew it was time for action. First order of business – call Sinead and make an appointment. Sinead helped me gauge where I was. That is – where I was in the grieving process.

Everything that I was describing to her was normal. A normal part of the grieving process.

I was not creating chaos. I was not overreacting. I was not staying up for days at a time. I was not agitated. I was not irritable. I was just sad.

I was going to be OK. But once you have been down the road such as mine you know you must still be proactive.

In order to continue on the right path I needed a voice. A voice to finally say so much I had held onto for so long. My Dad was gone and he would never hear what I had to say, but I needed to be able to say it anyway.

I started this blog, one year ago, August 27th.

I choose my path – not bipolar disorder, not my Dad, not depression.

I have chosen happiness. I have chosen to remove all the labels!

And through this blog, I have chosen to no longer live in the dark. I live in the light, and I love every single moment of it!

August 18, 2011

Cleaning out the freezer

My Dad had a freezer in his garage.  It was not a working freezer.  It was chained and had a massive lock on it to keep people out.

It was full of guns and stuff that was special to my Dad.

I was not in charge of cleaning out the freezer, however I was there.

Inside the door was an envelope full of pictures.

Pictures of children.

I destroyed them the minute I saw them.

I was numb. I was mad.  I was sad.  Lastly, I was in shock!

I had no idea…

My Father was not only a molester of little girls, but also little boys.

I cracked just a little bit more! Broken all over again. That night I did not sleep. Over the next couple of months my will would be tested. The will to be OK without medication. The will to not jump at the chance to be manic, where my world felt so good and exciting. The will to not crash. The will to overcome. The will to make good choices.

August 4, 2011

His final words

He told me he would die soon. He said he was ready to die. He said the cancer had won, he hurt all the time. He was tired. He would shoot himself soon.

We made small talk for a moment.

Then…

He told me how much he still loved my Mother. He told me about when they met, what he first thought when he saw her (an injured bird), and how he fell in love with her the moment he sat eyes on her. He went on and on for what seemed like an eternity about Mom. When he finally stopped talking I said,”It is so sad that she died so young.” He replied, “Yes, but that was the way it had to be.” I responded, “She just could not stop drinking, she was so drunk when she died.” And he said…

“Actually Veronica (he inhaled and sighed), when I saw her, she wasn’t that drunk.”

I never followed up. I never asked, “What does that mean.” I never said a word. I just sat there, dumbfounded.

He then changed the subject and asked me if I really thought I had a chance at finishing school. I did not answer right away (still in shock I guess). He then said, “You know Eva (my step sister)… blah blah blah” that is all I heard. Then he said, “Well, I guess so far at least you have a good GPA, maybe you will finish, who knows.”

He took a breath…

I said, in a whimper, “Yes, I think I can finish school.”

He said again, “Well, maybe you can.”

He changed the subject again. He talked about how proud he was of Jake.

And just about that moment, my son, Jake walked in.

He and Jake started talking.

I just sat there, feeling numb, disconnected. It was as if I was watching the two of them from somewhere else.

In that moment, all of the pieces that I had worked so hard to put back together felt as if they were fracturing. Chipping away.

My adrenaline was pumping. My heart began to race. My brain started banging around inside my head. My thoughts were flying fast. I was trying desperately to keep up with their conversation.

At some point, I interrupted their conversation, and began to argue with my father, over..? It had something to do with politics… really? Nothing, it was over nothing. Yet, it was an argument over everything!

He became irritated and ask me to leave.

I did.

About a week later, he shot himself.

July 24, 2011

After the reunion, what I always wanted to be

As I posted in this blog: https://nomorevictim.wordpress.com/2011/06/08/the-family-reunion/ I found that I had become very strong.  I could stand up for myself, I could face challenges, and I could walk away from a situation without feeling defeated.

This was a defining moment in my life. My life became clearer – sharper, and so did I!

Within a year, I decided to go to college. And soon I will be graduating with my AA and transferring to Sam Houston State to get my BA in Education! I currently have a 4.0! I am the student I always wanted to be.

I may have never asked my Dad those 8 questions, but what I did do was become the daughter I always wanted to be even though my Dad would never be the Dad I had always wanted.

I am the wife I always wanted to be. After that fateful day, I no longer leaned on my husband for emotional support. I discovered I could take care of myself. This new sense of self helped me to be the wife I always wanted to be. No jealousy, no anger, and no fear of abandonment.

Today, I am what I always wanted to be, but never imagined that I could be.

Happy!

But I will admit, it takes work and dedication to be happy. Is it worth it? Hell yes it is!

July 11, 2011

8 Questions I wanted to ask. . .

but never had the courage!

  1. Do you love me?
  2. Do you know that you hurt me?
  3. Does it matter to you that your hurt me?
  4. Do you understand that for many years I was actually beyond hurt, I was broken?
  5. Do you know what that means?
  6. Do you know that I hurt so bad that I wanted to die?
  7. Does that affect you, knowing that you are responsible for that kind of hurt?
  8. Who hurt you, why are you so broken?

Instead, I learned to play bridge and he and I would meet to play often, I met him for lunch, I helped him come up with a diet program, I listened to him when he needed, someone other than Elly, to talk about his cancer, I listened when he told me he had bought another miracle cure on the internet and I never – once judge him for it, I took him food that I had cooked or baked, I took him supplies after the hurricane, I cried for him when he told Nanny, his mother, that he was dying of cancer, and I listened when he told me he was going to kill himself: I never criticized him, I never told him not to do it, and I told him I could understood why he would commit suicide.  

What was my payoff?  Today I can tell myself that, despite him, I was a good daughter.  And why that matters to me, I really have know idea.  

June 8, 2011

The Family Reunion

As that day in September of 2008 approached, I was filled with anxiety.  Not only would my Dad be there, but so would my Nanny and my sister (who I had not seen nor spoken to since 2005).

In addition, I was completely off of all psychotropic medication.  I was managing my life well, but still lived in fear of having a setback.

I had a plan on how to handle almost every situation that came at me while I was there. If my Nanny made mention of my relationship with m Dad, I would just tell her that we would talk about it later and that it was her birthday and I was there to celebrate her. If my sister would not speak to me, I was OK with that too. I know at some point I had hurt her enough to where she no longer felt comfortable with me in her life. I was OK with that, I had felt that way about others in my life and, although I was not sure why, I could understand not wanting chaos in my own life. My Dad, well he had a way of getting under my skin… my weight. All of my life I had been to fat in his opinion. And when I lost all of that weight, every time he saw me, he would say how great it was that I had finally lost some weight. It is sad really, because as thin as I was, I was very unhealthy. However, by 2008, I had started gaining weight back. The ultimate plan was to leave. Mike and I, even today, have a deal… if ever one or the other wants to leave a situation – we will leave together. No matter what.

As we arrived my Nanny was driving up as well. (That’s right, on her 95th birthday she was driving up!) As I greeted her the first thing she asked me was if I had seen and talked to my Dad. I replied I had not but I was sure he was inside. I am sure my discomfort gleamed on my face. She just gave me a hug and then walked inside. She never mentioned a word to me again that day about my Dad.

As I finally made it inside I saw my Dad, my brother and my sister. I felt this incredible sense of dread come over me. But as I got closer my brother hugged me and whispered in my ear “Everything will be alright.” My sister then gave me a hug and said, with tears in her eyes, that she had missed me. I told her I had missed her too. Then I made my way round to the rest of the family, giving hugs and asking how everyone was doing. And then I saw my Dad.

Dad, “Hey there Pooh (my childhood nickname) you look like you are gaining weight.” I replied, “Dad, I love you, but my weight is none of your business.” I remember Mike reaching for my hand. My Dad turned red then said, “well you look good.”

Then I noticed his leg! It was awful looking and for whatever reason I immediately ask if his cancer had returned. He hushed me and said he just thinks it is a cream he used. But you could see it in his face, he knew what I had said was probably the case. Then he said he was going to the doctor next week.

My Dad’s own words “At Labor Day the start of September my right leg began to swell and look very muscular. I guessed because that was where I was rubbing testosterone gel on it and it was just becoming muscular and strong. I was so wrong. By the middle of September the leg had changed to a blue-green-yellow color and my wife had me go see my favorite GP-MD. When he saw the leg he said CANCER. Another PSA was done and came back at 51.6.

In October my right leg began to bleed and produce a whitish liquid. Pus I guess. This lasted a few weeks and then cleared up.”

That day will live in my mind forever, it was the beginning of the only relationship I ever really had with my Dad and it was the beginning of a renewed relationship with my sister. It was also the last celebration I would have with my Nanny.

The relationship with my sister is still alive today. Sadly, I do not believe it will ever be what it once was. My heart was broken when she left in 2005 and cut me off, and although I am sure she had her reasons, I can never suffer that hurt again. So I will guard my heart forever. It will always be somewhat fragile. Broken pieces put back together, no matter how strong the glue might be, are never as strong as they were when the heart was whole.

The relationship with my Dad was a ruse. I had no idea until his death that I was a pawn in his life to get the attention he needed and/ or wanted from his wife. In addition, I believe he knew that without some type of a relationship with me he would never get to know my son. And being a grandfather to Jake was something he really wanted. Despite that, I am glad I had it. I learned so much during the time with my Dad. Although, in the beginning, I was just a tool to gain attention from Elly, as time went by I think maybe for the first time ever he began to see me as his daughter. And for the first time possibly ever, I think he felt remorse. Not only for what he had done to me and my sister, but for what he had done to my Mom. A week before he died, he disclosed his part in her death. Something many had suspected over the years.

He was there!

May 10, 2011

Fine tuned?

Well OK, not quite.  But my marriage and my relationship with my son just started working.  It seemed like the more I recognized what I needed to do to be OK and actually did it, the more both just seemed to work. Around the beginning of 2005 Mike asked me to start working with him.  No pressure, I could leave when I wanted to and I never had to deal with customers.

It was a win-win.  I got out of the house and he got a free part – time employee.

As most of you know I had lost a ton of weight between 2001 and 2004. And even though I had started to learn how to balance my life, I still lost more weight. It would not be until 2005 that I would really start to balance not only my life, but my weight as well. 

2005 Total weight loss – about 80 lbs.

Mike and I became not only working partners, but friends.  We started working together instead of against each other.  We learned to support each other on the rough days.  We learned to celebrate each others good days.  Our marriage just became this awesome love story.  One I had always dreamed of but never – ever thought could ever be.  Mike is my love, my hero, my friend, and my lover.  Never, did I ever believe he could be those things, not because he could not be, but because I believed for so long I could never be worth having someone so wonderful in my life.

My relationship with my son just seemed to get better as well.  No more yelling or fighting.  I was learning how to be happy, maybe for the first time and those closest to me were learning as well! I learned to be patient with my son, to understand he was a teenager, and that I was really his Mom and my job was to not be his friend or his drill Sargent but his guide.  And as a guide I could not make him follow, I could only set a path before him.  He is my pride, my joy, and my love.  He is now my guide as well as I am still his.  Being a parent is the best thing I have ever done.  And I am so glad that I figured it out before my son was grown and it was too late.

From 2005 until 2008 life seemed to just be OK.  It moved at a slower pace.  We went on vacations, to New Mexico and Canada, and life was good.  No stress! I rarely heard from my Dad.  And my Nanny was getting older and had her own health to contend with. I think she finally made peace with the lack of relationship I would ever have with my Dad.  My Dad’s cancer seemed to be in complete remission.

All was quiet!

Then in 2008 we were invited to a family reunion!

And to be honest, I was anxious – almost afraid!  I had not been on medication for several years and there had not been a true test as to how I would do without it.

What I could have never expected happened, I learned I really was going to be OK without medication.  That I really was able to control mania and depression.  And with this discovery, I made a life changing decision.

Next…. The Family Reunion!

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