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.

 

Brain Stutter

So this week there have been a few odd hitches that have begun to make me think.

  1. I was telling someone about how when I went for a walk on Sunday the side of the road I was on did not have a sidewalk. However, I actually forgot the word sidewalk and while running my hands out like a walkway, said ‘You know the thing, that thing you walk on.’ Oh yeah, I am using it as a great story now. And it proves I can laugh at myself.
  2. I also forgot the word schedule.
  3. Today, when I got up I went to feed the cats. Well,  I would have made them wait but for the meowing of ‘Mom we are so hungry. Mooooooooooooooom feed us feed us now!’ I open up the fridge and stare in there stupified. I really thought that last night I had only used half a can of the cat food. Oh well, maybe I was wrong so I pulled another can out of the cupboard and fed them. I did put that can into the fridge.

I was going to take a lazy day but instead decided that I would clean the apartment. I mean, clean and than have the rest of today, all day Sunday and half the day Monday to myself. As I am cleaning, I go to put away the sandwich bags that have been sitting on the counter. I open the cupboard and lo and behold what the hell do I find? The can of cat food from last night. I honestly have absolutely no recall as to why I would have done this. The cupboard it was in is above the sink not even near the fridge. It is where I keep Polysporin, lotions for the cats when they scratch or their ears. Cough syrup for Tember. No reason for me to put cat food in there.

This got me thinking. For those of you who have followed along on my journey this past winter, you may be or are aware of the fact that I used pills to sedate myself. Easy enough to get over the counter back medicine and I took a lot. As an aside in 4 days I am going to have been clean for 150 days. 5 months. Not a pill at all. Other than my medication and vitamins. Not even when I get headaches.

Okay the brag fest is over. Let me get back to my thoughts. I am beginning to wonder how much damage I have done to myself. Are these little brain stutters due to all the pills that I took?

Than there is the high levels of iron that may (probably has) been caused by my excessive drinking. Liver damage there.

And I have done this all to myself. I am not asking for sympathy but I wonder what further complications I am going to end up developing?

If I could turn back time, well I would not be the woman that I am today. I would be someone different. But I would give anything to have not abused my body and my brain the way that I did.