I don't mind taking care of the people I love- it's what I do best, in some ways.
Yet, I also need to be able to depend on them. I need to know that they won't have to be babysat to complete things I must ask of them, and that they'll do the job right. I don't ask for much, at least I don't think so, so when I request the trash get taken out, I don't expect to have to go through the house and get the rest of the trash that was left behind later.I expect someone who can at least slowly work towards their own goals, and be relatively self-sustaining.
It's not that I don't appreciate someone around the house doing laundry and dishes, but I need someone who respects me enough to treat me like an equal- no lies, no manipulation, no half-assed efforts to get me off their back, no avoidance or silly games. I don't have children, much to my dismay, so it would be nice not to have another soul completely dependent on me, trying to get out of the things I ask them to do. I am a woman, and perhaps I have an old-school frame of mind on what a man should be, but I want an equal, someone who pulls at least their own weight, who I can trust to make the hard choices to keep me, and us, safe, even if those are difficult choices like needing to separate for a while. I want love and partnership, not a lopsided merry-go-round that always comes back around to the same damn issues and me being tired and frustrated with a situation I've done everything I'm capable of to fix.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Sunday, September 30, 2012
The Military And The Mommy
I'm watching a movie called The Shunning on Netflix. It's about a girl raised in an Amish household and community who finds out that she was adopted.
As I watched this, I happened to be cutting pictures out of October's issue of Vogue and stumbled across an article about a couple who pursued domestic adoption. The woman writing it explained the very difficult path they had walked after finding out about their infertility and the choices they made, the profile they filled out which listed the races, ages and conditions they would accept... No drug or alcohol use, any races, newborns.... And, despite the fact that I knew this woman was so much like me, a mother at heart, someone who could not bear children, to all appearances at least reasonably stable and responsible financially, I found myself so angry at this woman.... So angry. It's not her fault she didn't spend time in the foster care system, it's not her fault she didn't grow up knowing anyone with Downs syndrome, or in a wheel chair.... These things aren't her fault, and, really, her life is better for the lack of those struggles. Yet, to a woman who's been there, but doesn't have the financial ability to pay for adoption, turning a child away.... even a child with Downs syndrome... a child who struggles to live is the strongest of children, and children with Downs... there are no happier people on this planet than those who live with this syndrome. The love of a child, taking a child home and knowing that this child will not face the wrath of foster homes, or the misery of abuse at the hands of their parents, what more can you really want? Your child will love you whether or not you struggle for money, whether or not you're bloated, tired, cranky,if you have zits or a perfect complexion, whether you're a dog person, a cat person or don't particularly care for animals at all.... They won't judge you for the things potential dates might judge you on, or employers--- well, at least not until they hit their teens.
I am looking forward to becoming a foster mother. I know too well that it will be challenging, but I also know that, no matter what challenges I face in this experience, the children who aren't wanted, aren't loved or simply can't be taken care of by their biological families are those who are most in need of a home, of love, and of anything else I can give them.
So, as I transition, all-too-slowly, out of the US Army, I know that this path is the right one for me. The path of loving children who, like I have, believe themselves to be unlovable, or who's families cannot care for them, or who have already survived the unsurvivable... that's where I will come in.
As I watched this, I happened to be cutting pictures out of October's issue of Vogue and stumbled across an article about a couple who pursued domestic adoption. The woman writing it explained the very difficult path they had walked after finding out about their infertility and the choices they made, the profile they filled out which listed the races, ages and conditions they would accept... No drug or alcohol use, any races, newborns.... And, despite the fact that I knew this woman was so much like me, a mother at heart, someone who could not bear children, to all appearances at least reasonably stable and responsible financially, I found myself so angry at this woman.... So angry. It's not her fault she didn't spend time in the foster care system, it's not her fault she didn't grow up knowing anyone with Downs syndrome, or in a wheel chair.... These things aren't her fault, and, really, her life is better for the lack of those struggles. Yet, to a woman who's been there, but doesn't have the financial ability to pay for adoption, turning a child away.... even a child with Downs syndrome... a child who struggles to live is the strongest of children, and children with Downs... there are no happier people on this planet than those who live with this syndrome. The love of a child, taking a child home and knowing that this child will not face the wrath of foster homes, or the misery of abuse at the hands of their parents, what more can you really want? Your child will love you whether or not you struggle for money, whether or not you're bloated, tired, cranky,if you have zits or a perfect complexion, whether you're a dog person, a cat person or don't particularly care for animals at all.... They won't judge you for the things potential dates might judge you on, or employers--- well, at least not until they hit their teens.
I am looking forward to becoming a foster mother. I know too well that it will be challenging, but I also know that, no matter what challenges I face in this experience, the children who aren't wanted, aren't loved or simply can't be taken care of by their biological families are those who are most in need of a home, of love, and of anything else I can give them.
So, as I transition, all-too-slowly, out of the US Army, I know that this path is the right one for me. The path of loving children who, like I have, believe themselves to be unlovable, or who's families cannot care for them, or who have already survived the unsurvivable... that's where I will come in.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Socially Special
I don't like people.
Is that a surprise to anyone at this point? Probably not.
Anyway, it's been a weird couple days- other than my time spent in nearly useless groups, I've insisted on spending a lot of time alone, which is something I haven't done in quite some time. Therapists call it isolating, I call it recovering.
An extrovert I am not.
I'm watching Bones on Netflix this evening, and, after watching an episode involving a foster child, something dawned on me as I watched the very introverted, hyper-intelligent, heroine talk to the boy about some all-too-familiar experiences. I can't put my finger on what made it click in my mind, but it hit me that some of the refusal to accept other people's requests is because of a self-preservation instinct that most people seem to act on, expecting there to be a hidden agenda for what appears as a pretty straightforward request from another person. I have trust issues, yes, but mostly because, I think, I don't generally expect people to have a hidden agenda that might put someone else at risk.
This mess of a thought process eventually led me to realize I am also considered good with people (some of them- the ones I WANT to deal with- and this is NOT my perception but something I've been perplexed to hear repeatedly) because it doesn't confuse or surprise me that most people need to be nurtured just as children do from time to time... I remember reading a book that talked about a foster mother who got very stubborn when told that she needed to treat a special-needs child in a way that corresponded to their biological age. Her response to this was to tell them no, she would not, that his needs were that of a much younger child and she would see to those needs so that he would stand a chance to progress past that emotional stage towards his older biological age. So, instead of insisting this child "grow up", she would hold him and rock him and soothe him as he needed, instead of demanding he behave in a manner he was not yet capable.
Even adults need to be, for lack of better word, almost coddled at some point- have their emotions validated, their worth stated and their needs met, even if in some brief, semi-indirect manner, like responding to a friend's frustrated email with a validation of the feelings they are expressing if not able to understand, and giving them a more objective version of the scenario they explained, helping them to see the bigger picture while validating their point of view of it and emotions stemming from it.
Nobody relates to the need for nurturing more than someone with Borderline tendencies. NOBODY.
It's nice to finally have a positive twist on my very unique, if rather skewed, view on the world.
Is that a surprise to anyone at this point? Probably not.
Anyway, it's been a weird couple days- other than my time spent in nearly useless groups, I've insisted on spending a lot of time alone, which is something I haven't done in quite some time. Therapists call it isolating, I call it recovering.
An extrovert I am not.
I'm watching Bones on Netflix this evening, and, after watching an episode involving a foster child, something dawned on me as I watched the very introverted, hyper-intelligent, heroine talk to the boy about some all-too-familiar experiences. I can't put my finger on what made it click in my mind, but it hit me that some of the refusal to accept other people's requests is because of a self-preservation instinct that most people seem to act on, expecting there to be a hidden agenda for what appears as a pretty straightforward request from another person. I have trust issues, yes, but mostly because, I think, I don't generally expect people to have a hidden agenda that might put someone else at risk.
This mess of a thought process eventually led me to realize I am also considered good with people (some of them- the ones I WANT to deal with- and this is NOT my perception but something I've been perplexed to hear repeatedly) because it doesn't confuse or surprise me that most people need to be nurtured just as children do from time to time... I remember reading a book that talked about a foster mother who got very stubborn when told that she needed to treat a special-needs child in a way that corresponded to their biological age. Her response to this was to tell them no, she would not, that his needs were that of a much younger child and she would see to those needs so that he would stand a chance to progress past that emotional stage towards his older biological age. So, instead of insisting this child "grow up", she would hold him and rock him and soothe him as he needed, instead of demanding he behave in a manner he was not yet capable.
Even adults need to be, for lack of better word, almost coddled at some point- have their emotions validated, their worth stated and their needs met, even if in some brief, semi-indirect manner, like responding to a friend's frustrated email with a validation of the feelings they are expressing if not able to understand, and giving them a more objective version of the scenario they explained, helping them to see the bigger picture while validating their point of view of it and emotions stemming from it.
Nobody relates to the need for nurturing more than someone with Borderline tendencies. NOBODY.
It's nice to finally have a positive twist on my very unique, if rather skewed, view on the world.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Hidden
A week and a half in the hospital... again.
It's after midnight, three days since I've been discharged from my third hospitalization this year for psychiatric BS, and now I'm sitting here feeling like I'm hiding from myself.... Hiding what? I haven't got the faintest clue... I'm emailing a girl I don't know in person, and I'm shocked at how much I crave time with a woman... I have embraced the idea that I want a poly-amorous lifestyle, and that makes sense to me, especially with the way I feel about marriage, relationships and monogamy.... Yet there's something tugging at the edge of my mind, and I don't understand what the hell else I could be missing from this scrambled-ass television picture I have of myself at this point... I have known my whole life that I wasn't strictly attracted to the opposite gender, now I know about a multitude of things in my past that definitely shaped who I am, and things that I will have to fight, likely for the rest of my life, and..... what the hell else could there frigging be?!
The worst part might be not knowing.... or it might be knowing that surrounding myself with people, electronics and noise are yet another means of distracting myself.... but I don't feel anywhere near safe without such precautions at this point....
I feel so lost, so far from what I want to be and feel..... I want intimacy, but keep pushing people away. I want family but am so so so scared of anyone who says they'll stay... I don't know how to fix this without being alone, but I don't know how to survive without being around people....
All this horrible emotion building up inside me and I still don't even know what it is that I'm so scared to face...I'm so terrified.
It's after midnight, three days since I've been discharged from my third hospitalization this year for psychiatric BS, and now I'm sitting here feeling like I'm hiding from myself.... Hiding what? I haven't got the faintest clue... I'm emailing a girl I don't know in person, and I'm shocked at how much I crave time with a woman... I have embraced the idea that I want a poly-amorous lifestyle, and that makes sense to me, especially with the way I feel about marriage, relationships and monogamy.... Yet there's something tugging at the edge of my mind, and I don't understand what the hell else I could be missing from this scrambled-ass television picture I have of myself at this point... I have known my whole life that I wasn't strictly attracted to the opposite gender, now I know about a multitude of things in my past that definitely shaped who I am, and things that I will have to fight, likely for the rest of my life, and..... what the hell else could there frigging be?!
The worst part might be not knowing.... or it might be knowing that surrounding myself with people, electronics and noise are yet another means of distracting myself.... but I don't feel anywhere near safe without such precautions at this point....
I feel so lost, so far from what I want to be and feel..... I want intimacy, but keep pushing people away. I want family but am so so so scared of anyone who says they'll stay... I don't know how to fix this without being alone, but I don't know how to survive without being around people....
All this horrible emotion building up inside me and I still don't even know what it is that I'm so scared to face...I'm so terrified.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Reach Out And Hurt Someone
The almost-ex-husband has been allowed to use his phone the last two nights, and has text me both of them. While I expected some sort of closure to come from this, it has created a lot of confusion and pain, and the feeling that I could have avoided much of the pain each of us have been through lately- something I cannot reasonably say is fact. He continues to tell me to stop blaming myself, but, in the throes of treatment for PTSD and Borderline, as I realize how inappropriate and wrong many of my behaviors have been, it is nearly impossible to see that I have done anything right.
Now, I lie here, in a bed I may soon be without, as it does not belong to me, and realize that I may, in fact, be truly incapable of human interaction without inflicting some sort of pain on someone. I've realized I'd rather feel too much than be selfish and uncaring to those around me, but, really, what difference does it make if the end result is the same?
I'm just another Borderline. Ten percent of us die by suicide. Most psych studies say we can't be cured. I won't live to an old age if this is true. I won't have children if this is true. I am ashamed that I have exposed so many people to the pain that comes with being part of my life already.
I wonder how much longer I can hold on to the ledge I have dangled from for so many years.
I had to take "pm" over the counter meds and write this all out to keep my impulses in check. This time, I only took the legal dosage.
How much longer do I have?
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Dialectics
Dialectic... A combining balance of opposites... Dialectic Behavior Therapy is the most commonly prescribed form of therapy for borderlines and those with strong tendencies toward such behavior. Mood swings... I hate you, don't leave me... Constant struggles to avoid real or perceived abandonment... Idealization followed by demonization...
Can I see both extremes, the truth of each, and still allow them to coexist? Can two opposites both be true?
How am I ever going to get better?
Friday, July 27, 2012
Tiredly Tireless
This Borderline crap is for the birds.
I'm fed up with feeling like I'm the only one feeling these things, like I'm the only one who over-reacts, the only one struggling. I go to group outpatient therapy from nine to four every day, Monday-Friday, and, honestly, being surrounded by a bunch of military men all the time, hearing them make the jokes I used to think were funny, talking the crap I used to get heated over and throw a put down in their face for... It's like I'm constantly being reminded of what I no longer am.
I know I have made progress, as I've gone from that unstable, constantly-changing, fluctuating sense of "self" that depended on who I was around to this emptiness, this total lack of self all together... I know I've overcome some of my issues because I recognize the all-or-nothing thinking, and, sometimes, I can even control it. Honestly, I usually think I do a pretty good job lately in controlling at least the majority of emotional reactions... But judging from other peoples' responses to them, I could definitely be wrong.
I feel like a lost cause. The numbness is becoming the norm, and I'm not used to being numb or calm, I'm used to passionate, overwhelming emotions. I don't know how to deal with a total emotional void.
Tuesday or Wednesday, I fell apart for the first time in a while- the life-changing, I-can't-do-anything-right, I'll-leave-you-alone, I'm-hopeless sort of falling apart. I spent nearly two hours sitting on the bathroom floor of the clinic I go to outpatient treatment at, sobbing, afraid to come out, afraid of what would happen if all the guys saw me that weak... The next day the subject of sexual coercion came up in group and I had to walk out just to deal with the tears that came at the mention of details. I am so tired of being this fragile person. I miss being tough and strong and unbreakable.
My heart pretty much breaks on a daily basis now. I guess, at least for now, that's what I've traded the worst of my temper tantrums and over-reactions for. I'm sure it gets better... I'm just really hoping that part comes soon right about now.
I'm fed up with feeling like I'm the only one feeling these things, like I'm the only one who over-reacts, the only one struggling. I go to group outpatient therapy from nine to four every day, Monday-Friday, and, honestly, being surrounded by a bunch of military men all the time, hearing them make the jokes I used to think were funny, talking the crap I used to get heated over and throw a put down in their face for... It's like I'm constantly being reminded of what I no longer am.
I know I have made progress, as I've gone from that unstable, constantly-changing, fluctuating sense of "self" that depended on who I was around to this emptiness, this total lack of self all together... I know I've overcome some of my issues because I recognize the all-or-nothing thinking, and, sometimes, I can even control it. Honestly, I usually think I do a pretty good job lately in controlling at least the majority of emotional reactions... But judging from other peoples' responses to them, I could definitely be wrong.
I feel like a lost cause. The numbness is becoming the norm, and I'm not used to being numb or calm, I'm used to passionate, overwhelming emotions. I don't know how to deal with a total emotional void.
Tuesday or Wednesday, I fell apart for the first time in a while- the life-changing, I-can't-do-anything-right, I'll-leave-you-alone, I'm-hopeless sort of falling apart. I spent nearly two hours sitting on the bathroom floor of the clinic I go to outpatient treatment at, sobbing, afraid to come out, afraid of what would happen if all the guys saw me that weak... The next day the subject of sexual coercion came up in group and I had to walk out just to deal with the tears that came at the mention of details. I am so tired of being this fragile person. I miss being tough and strong and unbreakable.
My heart pretty much breaks on a daily basis now. I guess, at least for now, that's what I've traded the worst of my temper tantrums and over-reactions for. I'm sure it gets better... I'm just really hoping that part comes soon right about now.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Borderline Between Crazy And Insane
I'm tired of the hell I put myself and everyone around me through.
The combination of Borderline Personality Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is eating me alive, from the inside out.
I think I'm incapable of love.
I think I'm incapable of happiness.
I'm so completely lost.
I woke up this morning, emotionally exhausted and ashamed of last night's events.... again.
I know what today will bring, all too well, and I don't want to face it. I don't want to do anything, I don't want to try, I don't want to fight and I am so, so, so tired of crying I can't begin to explain it in any way that even vaguely resembles the rational side of me.
I'm tired of hurting the people I love. I know it's possible to get better, I know it's possible to live a life that appears normal.... But I don't know how in the hell I can ever hold on long enough to see that day come.
I'm exhausted.
The combination of Borderline Personality Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is eating me alive, from the inside out.
I think I'm incapable of love.
I think I'm incapable of happiness.
I'm so completely lost.
I woke up this morning, emotionally exhausted and ashamed of last night's events.... again.
I know what today will bring, all too well, and I don't want to face it. I don't want to do anything, I don't want to try, I don't want to fight and I am so, so, so tired of crying I can't begin to explain it in any way that even vaguely resembles the rational side of me.
I'm tired of hurting the people I love. I know it's possible to get better, I know it's possible to live a life that appears normal.... But I don't know how in the hell I can ever hold on long enough to see that day come.
I'm exhausted.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Nobody's Angel
My stepdad called me Angel, when he was still alive. Would he still, I wonder? After three sexual assaults, after five years in the Army, after being a Carnie, after disowning my mother, after living the life I have, could this man still find it in his soul to see me as a creature of pure good? Or would he, too, see me as another product of a hard life lived, as so many seem to? Will I ever be an angel again, or am I doomed to be the "other" which I have fought so hard... This dark, dirty, angry, defensive part of myself? Is there any angel left? Is there anything still pure about me, anything unadulterated by the crimes I have witnessed or committed?
I tend not to think so.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Don't bother with pills kids
They take too long and mess up the goodbyes you already made.
Pills rage forever.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Pain
I'm so tired of fighting... Will things never cease to go downhill? I miss Danger, I'm tired of fighting...
I'm so tired of this endless battle within myself.
Everyone tells me I'm the strongest person they know, but I'm too weak to be happy, to weak to have faith, too weak to keep holding on.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Letting Go Of Abandonment
Abandonment has been both my greatest fear and my most painful reality.
I'm letting go of that.
I'm letting go of wondering who will be there in the end, because there's no way to know but to wait.
I'm letting go of other people's opinions and doing what's right for me, because I'm the only one who can make me happy.
I'm letting go of trying desperately not to be alone, only to wind up feeling that way in a relationship.
I'm letting go of the people who have hurt me- Jill, the rapists, exes. They don't have the power to control me anymore.
I'm letting go of holding on. I will feel what I feel, and I will respect myself enough to allow myself that much. I will stop holding it in and stop holding on to it.
I'm letting go.
I'm letting go of that.
I'm letting go of wondering who will be there in the end, because there's no way to know but to wait.
I'm letting go of other people's opinions and doing what's right for me, because I'm the only one who can make me happy.
I'm letting go of trying desperately not to be alone, only to wind up feeling that way in a relationship.
I'm letting go of the people who have hurt me- Jill, the rapists, exes. They don't have the power to control me anymore.
I'm letting go of holding on. I will feel what I feel, and I will respect myself enough to allow myself that much. I will stop holding it in and stop holding on to it.
I'm letting go.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Funny Farm
Overheard way too early this morning: "There's only three things in this world to be afraid of: polar bears, lions and jello."
Oh my lord, I need out of here already.
I can honestly say I'm not the same person that checked in. I am sad at the thought of the number of people who will probably not be okay with the person that they see who comes out, but, for the first time in my life, I have some appreciation for who I am. I will not apologize for who I am, not after I've spent twenty-six years doing nothing but apologizing and getting out of everyone's way. I am starting again, for the first time, as myself. I don't know what I'll do to survive, I don't know what life will hand me or what will become of me, but I will find my own happiness the way I need to.
I miss my truck, my friends, my tea, my music, my jewelry, and my freedom. I don't miss work, but I know I'll need to deal with those people again, and I'll roll with it. I am not less than them, and I will not be treated as such any longer.
This is the fresh start I've been craving since I was so young. I don't know if the world is ready for it, but I am.
Oh my lord, I need out of here already.
I can honestly say I'm not the same person that checked in. I am sad at the thought of the number of people who will probably not be okay with the person that they see who comes out, but, for the first time in my life, I have some appreciation for who I am. I will not apologize for who I am, not after I've spent twenty-six years doing nothing but apologizing and getting out of everyone's way. I am starting again, for the first time, as myself. I don't know what I'll do to survive, I don't know what life will hand me or what will become of me, but I will find my own happiness the way I need to.
I miss my truck, my friends, my tea, my music, my jewelry, and my freedom. I don't miss work, but I know I'll need to deal with those people again, and I'll roll with it. I am not less than them, and I will not be treated as such any longer.
This is the fresh start I've been craving since I was so young. I don't know if the world is ready for it, but I am.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Change
I must sound so cold these days.
I certainly feel like I'm being cold in some ways, but I also know in my heart that what I'm doing is right for me, and that they are things I need to do. I will be changing my last name once my divorce is final, not to my ex's name, not to another man's name and not even to my maiden name. I am beginning fresh, starting a life of my own, for the first time. I am building my identity, from the ground up, because, truly, I have been so immersed in everyone else's emotions and my own past that I haven't had a clue as to who I was or what I wanted until very, very recently.
I wouldn't have had it turn out this way, I wouldn't have hurt anyone, had I had the option, but I see no other way to start anew without starting anew.
I must learn to take care of myself, even if it's taken me until age twenty-six to figure out how to do that.
I certainly feel like I'm being cold in some ways, but I also know in my heart that what I'm doing is right for me, and that they are things I need to do. I will be changing my last name once my divorce is final, not to my ex's name, not to another man's name and not even to my maiden name. I am beginning fresh, starting a life of my own, for the first time. I am building my identity, from the ground up, because, truly, I have been so immersed in everyone else's emotions and my own past that I haven't had a clue as to who I was or what I wanted until very, very recently.
I wouldn't have had it turn out this way, I wouldn't have hurt anyone, had I had the option, but I see no other way to start anew without starting anew.
I must learn to take care of myself, even if it's taken me until age twenty-six to figure out how to do that.
Upside Down
I need to write this, I need to put this where it can be seen, no matter who it upsets, or who it makes uncomfortable.
I am a survivor of an alcoholic mother with Munchhausen By Proxy. I am a survivor of two rapes and one lesser sexual assault. My mother's constant badgering of my instinct and emotion, her constant refusal to respect what I felt and knew, her refusal to parent me in a way that I might become a functional adult, all left me without the skills to set appropriate boundaries for myself with others. The abuse is the reason I couldn't avoid the sexual assaults any more than what I attempted. At 26 years old, I understand this.
None the less, I am a woman, in her second marriage, facing her second divorce, barely coming to terms with the idea that I have a right to feel what I do, and a right not to be questioned about it. I am also coming to terms with the fact that I have not had the capability to lower my walls enough to form a true trusting, loving emotional bond with any significant other.
When I am discharged from the hospital, I will be in outpatient treatment. I will also be moving in with a dear friend whom I look forward to being able to discuss all of this with, because this friend understands my PTSD, understands my symptoms and personality in a way I need. The man I married, who has repeatedly disrespected boundaries I have set since I came into the hospital, who has disrespected me in the process, whom my doctor felt was enough of a distraction from my therapy that he put a no contact order in place for the rest of my time in patient, has no understanding of these issues, and has appeared, at best, reluctant to work on the problems created by my problems combined with his lack of understanding of them.
I am starting a new life- one that will soon be void of the military, of marriage, and of anything but what I need to work on to improve myself and my life. Happiness has to be a goal, rather than something I am too scared to lose to ever attempt to obtain.
I do not ever intend to marry again. My time in the military has made it far more reasonable to marry than it would be otherwise, and I hate that I have let an outside factor influence me so. My personal values are quickly, and finally, being set in stone. Whatever changes, whatever comes after this I will deal with.
I am starting a new chapter in my life, and it will not resemble the previous ones in any way I can manage. I am learning who I am, and what I need and will continue to do so, this time with support and love from true friends and without regard for anyone who chooses to judge my actions or choices. There is no one right way to live, but I will find the one way- or many ways- I decide to live my life. Because I have only one chance at this, and I intend to do it right.
I am a survivor of an alcoholic mother with Munchhausen By Proxy. I am a survivor of two rapes and one lesser sexual assault. My mother's constant badgering of my instinct and emotion, her constant refusal to respect what I felt and knew, her refusal to parent me in a way that I might become a functional adult, all left me without the skills to set appropriate boundaries for myself with others. The abuse is the reason I couldn't avoid the sexual assaults any more than what I attempted. At 26 years old, I understand this.
None the less, I am a woman, in her second marriage, facing her second divorce, barely coming to terms with the idea that I have a right to feel what I do, and a right not to be questioned about it. I am also coming to terms with the fact that I have not had the capability to lower my walls enough to form a true trusting, loving emotional bond with any significant other.
When I am discharged from the hospital, I will be in outpatient treatment. I will also be moving in with a dear friend whom I look forward to being able to discuss all of this with, because this friend understands my PTSD, understands my symptoms and personality in a way I need. The man I married, who has repeatedly disrespected boundaries I have set since I came into the hospital, who has disrespected me in the process, whom my doctor felt was enough of a distraction from my therapy that he put a no contact order in place for the rest of my time in patient, has no understanding of these issues, and has appeared, at best, reluctant to work on the problems created by my problems combined with his lack of understanding of them.
I am starting a new life- one that will soon be void of the military, of marriage, and of anything but what I need to work on to improve myself and my life. Happiness has to be a goal, rather than something I am too scared to lose to ever attempt to obtain.
I do not ever intend to marry again. My time in the military has made it far more reasonable to marry than it would be otherwise, and I hate that I have let an outside factor influence me so. My personal values are quickly, and finally, being set in stone. Whatever changes, whatever comes after this I will deal with.
I am starting a new chapter in my life, and it will not resemble the previous ones in any way I can manage. I am learning who I am, and what I need and will continue to do so, this time with support and love from true friends and without regard for anyone who chooses to judge my actions or choices. There is no one right way to live, but I will find the one way- or many ways- I decide to live my life. Because I have only one chance at this, and I intend to do it right.
Monday, May 21, 2012
The Best Is Yet To Come
There isn't a single part of my life that isn't changing in some way right now.
It's scary, and it's dark, and I'm not really sure how I'll land on my feet from this one, but I have to believe that I will. Or at least hope.
There are a million things I'd hoped to be and do, and the reality of that is changing. I can be only one person, and I must choose who that person is to be.
Some people in my life, some who I'd thought very important before I began making my way through the darkest part of this, won't make it through to see the light at the other end. I'm sad that this is true, but it's something I need to do in order to survive. I need supportive, loyal, loving and understanding people. That limits the people I consider my true friends dramatically.
I'm holding on, I'm surviving, I'm making it, though some days I'm not sure how.
All I know is the best is yet to come.
It's scary, and it's dark, and I'm not really sure how I'll land on my feet from this one, but I have to believe that I will. Or at least hope.
There are a million things I'd hoped to be and do, and the reality of that is changing. I can be only one person, and I must choose who that person is to be.
Some people in my life, some who I'd thought very important before I began making my way through the darkest part of this, won't make it through to see the light at the other end. I'm sad that this is true, but it's something I need to do in order to survive. I need supportive, loyal, loving and understanding people. That limits the people I consider my true friends dramatically.
I'm holding on, I'm surviving, I'm making it, though some days I'm not sure how.
All I know is the best is yet to come.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Checked In
I've been at an in-patient treatment facility for a little over three weeks now.
I had no idea how much I'd been holding in, or holding back, or holding onto, and nobody had been honest enough with me to tell me that it was possible for me to let it go and move on. I met a friend here, a true friend, who has had the strength and courage to stand up to me, to watch over me and, occasionally, hold me as I've cried, and to tell me when I'm holding on to things that are making me unhappy. He's been tough enough to tell me that it's time to let it go, to learn to be happy.
All of this is frightening.
Life is not as beautiful as I'd hoped it'd be as I prepared to possibly get out of here, but I'm quickly realizing that all I can do is encourage the healing process to speed up, to push myself harder to get more out, and to attempt to move on from the bad habits, negative people and poor choices that have haunted my past.
I'm no less scared of getting out of here, nothing short of terrified of returning to work, and to trying to face all of this from the outside world... but I'm starting to believe that I might be strong enough to pull it off.
I had no idea how much I'd been holding in, or holding back, or holding onto, and nobody had been honest enough with me to tell me that it was possible for me to let it go and move on. I met a friend here, a true friend, who has had the strength and courage to stand up to me, to watch over me and, occasionally, hold me as I've cried, and to tell me when I'm holding on to things that are making me unhappy. He's been tough enough to tell me that it's time to let it go, to learn to be happy.
All of this is frightening.
Life is not as beautiful as I'd hoped it'd be as I prepared to possibly get out of here, but I'm quickly realizing that all I can do is encourage the healing process to speed up, to push myself harder to get more out, and to attempt to move on from the bad habits, negative people and poor choices that have haunted my past.
I'm no less scared of getting out of here, nothing short of terrified of returning to work, and to trying to face all of this from the outside world... but I'm starting to believe that I might be strong enough to pull it off.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Morning
It's almost time for me to leave for my therapy appointment with the doctor who talks more than I do, but I had a few minutes after I got done getting ready and I needed to write.
I feel like things are bouncing a bit right now- better to worse- on a near-daily basis. I feel so much better, and, other days, I catch myself contemplating suicide more than is even vaguely rational. I'm tired of fighting, and I want a release. I think I can make it after I get out, now, and I have a few ideas I'm scared to put too much stock into, because I don't trust myself to see them through, but they are, potentially, good ideas.
Buffalo Boy has been incredibly supportive of my ideas, though my husband seems to be drowning in my issues right now. I asked him to take some initiative to try and learn more about what I'm dealing with because, frankly, I'm out of ideas for how to help him. I really feel like I'm just dragging him down as I'm trying to stay afloat. I guess drowning really is a good analogy for this.
We see his chaplain and an actual therapist for marriage counseling, I see my own one-on-one therapist, the doctor at the treatment clinic and am enrolled in an outpatient therapy program, yet he still seems to be struggling to understand any of it. I've written emails, given him the address to this blog (which he reads about once a month) and suggested books. I've asked him to do his own research, because I don't even know what parts of the picture he's missing right now. He's going to be busy with training and deployment preparations for a while, and, frankly, if we don't get on the same sheet of music by the time he deploys, I am not positive we'll make it through that deployment. I want this to work, but I'm so damn tired of fighting for everything I just don't know what will anymore.
Just trying to keep my head up for another week....
I feel like things are bouncing a bit right now- better to worse- on a near-daily basis. I feel so much better, and, other days, I catch myself contemplating suicide more than is even vaguely rational. I'm tired of fighting, and I want a release. I think I can make it after I get out, now, and I have a few ideas I'm scared to put too much stock into, because I don't trust myself to see them through, but they are, potentially, good ideas.
Buffalo Boy has been incredibly supportive of my ideas, though my husband seems to be drowning in my issues right now. I asked him to take some initiative to try and learn more about what I'm dealing with because, frankly, I'm out of ideas for how to help him. I really feel like I'm just dragging him down as I'm trying to stay afloat. I guess drowning really is a good analogy for this.
We see his chaplain and an actual therapist for marriage counseling, I see my own one-on-one therapist, the doctor at the treatment clinic and am enrolled in an outpatient therapy program, yet he still seems to be struggling to understand any of it. I've written emails, given him the address to this blog (which he reads about once a month) and suggested books. I've asked him to do his own research, because I don't even know what parts of the picture he's missing right now. He's going to be busy with training and deployment preparations for a while, and, frankly, if we don't get on the same sheet of music by the time he deploys, I am not positive we'll make it through that deployment. I want this to work, but I'm so damn tired of fighting for everything I just don't know what will anymore.
Just trying to keep my head up for another week....
Sunday, April 15, 2012
The Day Before
Sundays are so difficult.
They have so much potential, yet they're so full of anxiety for me as of late- all that anticipation of yet another week of juggling military nonsense with an attempt at survival- let alone happiness.
I'm a bad soldier right now, I haven't done my physical, I am still a week away from the dental exam I'm overdue for, and I haven't spent any excess time hunting down specific people because I was told to. I'm at a point where I will take nearly any opportunity for happiness, even if it means risking some punishment. I don't get much for myself anymore, and I have no escape from the darkness these days, so, really, when I see a bit of light shining through, who can blame me for trying to stay close to it?
Another week... I really hope I'm able to sleep tonight.
They have so much potential, yet they're so full of anxiety for me as of late- all that anticipation of yet another week of juggling military nonsense with an attempt at survival- let alone happiness.
I'm a bad soldier right now, I haven't done my physical, I am still a week away from the dental exam I'm overdue for, and I haven't spent any excess time hunting down specific people because I was told to. I'm at a point where I will take nearly any opportunity for happiness, even if it means risking some punishment. I don't get much for myself anymore, and I have no escape from the darkness these days, so, really, when I see a bit of light shining through, who can blame me for trying to stay close to it?
Another week... I really hope I'm able to sleep tonight.
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