Framily****

997 days.
160 days.
These are numbers I am very proud of.
997 days.
3 years and 2 days since I broke up with my pill addiction.
And I have not looked back.
I have not taken anything stronger than Motrin for pain.
For the last two week I have been in pain.
Icing shoulder.
Heating shoulder.
T has rubbed my anti-inflammatory into my shoulder.
I have used on my elbow and upper arm.
I am now down to a dull throb and twinge.
I have a very high pain threshold.
This pain though I cried a few times from it.
And the thought skipped through my mind that it was ok.
I could get the muscle relaxants and use them for pain management only.
But as soon as I thought it I chased it away.
I have come too far to take the chance.
160 days.
5 months and 10 days since I broke up with alcohol.
And much like my break up with the pills I have not looked back.
My sense of smell has begun to come back.
I can smell very strong smells but the subtle smell of coffee/baking bread at work I was not catching them.
I am now.
Dreams.
I know I am dreaming.
Real dreams.
Creative dreams.
I am still not remembering every night but I am dreaming.
A lot of it has triggered deja vu moments at work.
Guess I dream a lot about work.
Or am taping into some psychic ability I am completely unaware of.
If so though I am a boring psychic dreaming of day to day activities.
I have a character awakening.
For the first time in years.
When I say years I am talking about since I was a teenager.
She is skulking around in there.
Maybe not skulking……
lol she just popped out from the shadows and insists that she is skulking.
I awaken each morning early.
Without a hangover feeling like death warmed over.
There is a little extra in the bank.
Not that I can see it but my bank tracking app keeps reassuring me that I am still spending $100 less than usual.
And I can only go up from there.
I am struggling this year with my mood.
Not that I am sliding into depression but the whole year is enough to wear down even the eternal optimist.
I know that this will pass or rather our lives will evolve in such a way as to incorporate the new norms and we will move forward.
However I miss being hugged.
I miss being touched.
I miss male companionship.
There I have said it.
Now no one needs to save me or anything y’all know my feelings here.
Remember my friend called me a cat in relationship style.
One cannot fault me there.
This has been a year of growth and learning.
A year of trials and tribulations.
A year where I have been open about my struggle maintaining good mental health.
A year where I began to explore different aspects of self in life and in my writing.
A year where I have faced some facts about myself that I do not like and work to change them.
A year where…..
I am grateful to 2020 for giving me the strength to finally quit drinking.
I am grateful to 2020 for giving me more time with T and the fun we have.
I am grateful to 2020 for preparing me for the start of the teen years.
Could raising a teenager really be that much harder than surviving 2020?????
I am grateful to 2020 for being a year of introspection and inner growth.
Most of all I am grateful for everyone of you.
I have made friends/family connections within these blogs.
I cannot always read and comment as I want to but I am a silent stalker.
I can always be real without fear of scathing words thrown back at me.
I can always be me.
From My Christmas to Yours thank you all for being a part of my………..
Drum roll please…..
****Framily~Friends & Family Combined.
©Dec. 25/20
Picture is my own
I was informed I was too old to do this.
So I did it.
And took a picture to prove it.

Happy Anniversary to Me

Good morning all.

Today is going to be a little different. Over in Facebook land I have been doing a countdown to today. Have caused not a little bit of confusion over there as I am right now. With all that goes on over a year long period changes within yourself (myself) can create a completely different person.

On December 23/17 I could have killed myself. Not intentionally but I had gotten to such a point in my life where I was trying so hard to block out the voices in my head. The ones telling me that no one cared. No one had time for me and my petty problems. So I downed handful after handful of pills that day. At one point, while at work, I took over 30 pills. To subdue the voices, to make me stop feeling. The higher I got, the less I worried.

I spent pretty much the entire year of 2017 in a depressive state. I was drinking heavily. Taking pills. How I did my job at work, as a mother, a friend, I do not know. And it is not like I did not try to stop taking the pills. But they were my out. My crutch when things got really hard to handle.

I should have realized as I became more reclusive, cut off people that I spoke to on a regular basis that something was wrong. Did part of me realize? Most likely but that voice in my head kept talking, kept telling me all the wonderfully wrong things about myself. My girls, they tried to reach out to me, they tried but I could not let them see me like that. They did though, cause I have some of the best girl friends on the planet bar none.

I ended up in the hospital that night. Was put on leave the very next day. I could not stop crying. I could not stop apologizing. Once more I had fucked everything up.

What happened to me last year was what I call my kaboom! I fell down. And let me tell you I fell hard. All those balls I was juggling came crashing down on my head. One after the other. When I woke up on the 24th, I had a massive bruise on my arm, my forehead hurt and there was a bruise and my tailbone. As you read this you are probably wondering what the hell I had done.

I literally fell down. I had pulled myself up off the floor (I had been hiding under the desk so I would not be on camera) and tried to sit on the chair.  Which rolled away from me and I hit the floor while cracking my head and arm on the desk. I had been trying to make myself throw up which did not work. I was in a horrific condition. How I still have a job I do not know.

At the hospital that night, I sat in the waiting room with two friends to see the doctor. I was not considered to be an urgent care so it was almost five hours before I was called to be taken to a room. I had a variety of tests done. Bloodwork. Urine. Heart. The concern was I could have damaged my kidneys. My heart was racing overtime. Never mind that I was groggy and really just wanted to sleep.

It was after midnight, Christmas Eve, by the time I got home. The friend who drove me to get my car followed me home and went through my cupboards. To ensure that I had no more pills. I threw out everything I had when I got up later. Not the pills I had been taking but Advil, PMS meds, if it was something that could be consumed and possibly get me high, I threw it away.

My Ex came through in a big way. He supported me. Not once did he call into question my ability to mother. Not once did he point a finger at me or make me feel that what had happened was wrong. He had been through this once before with me, but this time when I hit my rock bottom, I hit it hard.

Poor T. He was so lost and feeling like he had to make me feel better. I look at him now (I mean the poor kid has witnessed not one but two depressive episodes with me) and I fear that I have caused some damage. He does not like to be away from his dad or me for too long. He will only go on sleepovers to his best friend’s home, no where else. He gets anxious and has ridged rules which cannot be compromised. I need to tell him in advance if something is going to change in his normal routine. I did that to him and I do not know how to fix it.

I was abused by my father. I knew this. My mom knew this. My brother well he knows without knowing. I charged him. I went to court and testified against him. I chose not to follow through when enough evidence was found to go to trial. Than I spent the next 20 years or so until his death, fluctuating between wanting him in my life and wishing that he was dead. I shoved everything down.

In previous posts (from the start of the year) I have detailed my account of what happened. The voice that was on repeat in my head, was his. He told me as a child I ruined everything. I was made to feel small, belittled and abused. I kept all of this inside where it ate away at the fiber of my being.

I began counselling. I admitted that I had very little recall of my childhood. I remember select things, like my brother’s birth and my reaction. However I mean a little terrorist had just moved into the family (ha ha ha) who the hell would forget that? But my life except for certain things, before the age of about 12, is a foggy blur. Memory wise.

My counsellor explained that this was not unusual in abuse cases. That my brain was hiding from me what it felt I could not handle. I was not to go poking around trying to recall anything because well my brain would not let me. I was worried too, that I was making everything up, that none of this had happened. My fears were put to rest again by my counsellor when we discussed this. Never mind the fact that I could recall my statement to the police nigh on 30 years later.

The worst for me was a cycle of three days. Three days were I was slammed with memories that froze me. That made me scream. Quite honestly, I had one memory that actually made me scream in terror and pain when it hit me. I felt like a black hole had opened up and swallowed me. I doubled over with emotional pain, pulled my knees up and was in the fetal position screaming and crying.

The other two memories were bad but not as bad as the first one. The first one is when I realized/remembered/learned that I had been younger than 12 when this abuse started. That is the one that ripped a hole in me. The other two left me shaking and in flight mode as adrenaline coursed through my body. And while they were just as horrid, by day 3 I was nearly comatose. I was going through the motions. I was a robot. I was raw. And in pain.

Now let us fast forward to today. I have been pill free for a year. I am stronger than I have ever been in my entire life. I believe in myself and that fucking voice well it is gone. I have made peace with myself. I am confident and I believe (lol Eminem song every time I say that statement ‘I believe’ I hear him in my head) that I am worth it. I am worth time, care, love and a happy life. I am worthy to live this life. The chains of my past which had shackled me, held me down, they are gone.

I am in a really great space. I have learned to trust and love. I have learned who I can count on. Who is there for me even when I am at my most ugly. I have learned how to accept my emotions, my pain, my fears, to let myself feel them and deal with them, not hide from them. I have learned how to care for the small girl inside of me, who was so hurt and harmed, we have become one again.

So, happy anniversary to me. I am so very very proud of myself.