"Pain of a Child Is Unheard"

Pain of a Child Is Unheard

Feelings held back from long ago
Pains through my heart like an arrow

Pretending was the key
That everything was okay with me

So much so, that I thought, I believed the lie
But, why did I always want to die

I was so young when I first became depressed
Too many major episodes I have to confess

Dissociation and numbness day by day
Conceding that it was never going to be my way

Confusion spins round and round
Hoping one day that I would be found

Wanting so much to be heard
Instead my words became awkward

Staying silent was the way for me
Deep inside to be heard was my plea

To feel such anguish from so many years
Yet, I still find it hard to find my tears

Felt overwhelmed, confusion, sadness, panic, & depression
My coping tools were repression and suppression

Defenses all tangled worked quite well
Until it came time for me to tell

Not wanting to admit that I wanted to be wanted
Yet, a deep longing to feel safe and be comforted

Feeling things now is so intense and painful
But, at least, now I am being truthful

Hurts so much that I want to die
But, it is something I don’t think I would try

The pain takes over my whole body
From my hair to my toes, I feel achy

Emptiness envelops my whole being
Makes reality hard to keep seeing

Next comes feeling hollow
Terrified that it will swallow

Then, comes the feeling that “I don’t exist”
I’m terrified that I will get missed

Lord, I know you brought me to this place
My feelings and thoughts I have to face

I just want to crawl into a corner and die
But, I know that I also want to continue to try

For healing is really what I seek
Which means the truth I have to speak

This means that I need to be me
It sounds so simple, but I just need to be

© 2008 ClinicallyClueless/CourageousSteps

My Week ~ defenses, rage, flashbacks & surgery!

I want to apologize to everyone because the past couple of weeks, I’ve been really inconsistent in reading blogs, making comments and responding to comments. I’ve been preoccupied with a tumor in my right underarm. Monday, I finally had my appointment with the surgeon in which I became very angry. I had my husband with me because with what I’m doing in therapy, I didn’t want anyone touching me. Makes it hard for one to do an examination. Anyway, when I made the appointment a week and a half previous to the appointment, I was told that they accept my insurance and that the doctor worked out of the hospital that I wanted to go to.

I had the new patient forms mailed to me, so that I could fill them out at home. First flag, they had the last page of a Notice of Privacy Policy (NPP) which was barely readable and obviously over copied and tilted about 45 degrees with no front pages. Second flag, NPP form is no longer valid as privacy policies need to adhere to HIIPA regulations which post dates all of their forms.

Arrived at the office, gave the front desk my forms and they asked for the co-pay. I told her that there is no co-pay for an out-of-network provider. So, I asked, “Is the doctor an in-network provider.” Answer, “Well, I don’t know if we accept your insurance?” Reply, “Can you check?” Answer, “No, that is what you should have done before your appointment.” Okay at this point my blood pressure is rising. For those of you who don’t know, the office is supposed to verify benefits prior to your appointment. After some lengthy conversations and my husband calling our insurance company who said the office should know and they would have more updated records. The office person basically kept saying that it was the patient’s responsibility to pay and that there was no way for her to check eligibility.

Second issue is the privacy policy. I asked for the first page and her face dropped (obviously it has been lost for sometime) and she referred me to a two page outdated letter from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. I told her, “No I want the first part of what I was signing and this is just a letter. I want to see your HIIPA policies.” She became flustered and told the nurse that she could not deal with me. The “no personality” nurse with no interest in what I was saying, “just kept repeating that the letter is what they use.” I told her, “But, it is a letter giving you suggestions and does not meet HIIPA standards. I’m not even sure it is legal because it isn’t HIIPA.” Reply, “Well, that is all we have.”

In the meantime, while my husband was talking to the front desk. I called my doctor’s office and explained what was occurring and the office manager was appalled and gave me the name and telephone number of another surgeon who I called and made an appointment for Wednesday. I went back in at told her that since they cannot tell me whether they accept my insurance or not that I was going to go to another surgeon and that I wanted all of my file and that “you will not be charging me for this visit.” (24-hour cancellations fee thingy)

I basically did what I would have done for a client, but I was doing it for myself. My husband said that he was impressed because I was clear, to the point, and very calm…I was professional, but they were not. He was also angry. There was also a waiting room full of people who heard every word that we said. The moment the door closed and we were outside, I said, “Bitch!.” After all that, even though I know that the surgeon is excellent, it isn’t worth dealing with the front office and the “bitchy” nurse.

In the meantime, I’ve been dealing with my homicidal rage toward my step-father, flashbacks of what occurred in the garage, and flashbacks of the homicidal fantasies that I had during the abuse. And, I was not talking about it. So, basically I went into overwhelmed, fragmenting borderlineville and left a couple of really nasty messages on my therapist’s answering machine. He set some boundaries with me which were difficult and then, I had to deal with my reaction to that and him being slightly angry with me.

He said that he took care of his anger by expressing it to me as he felt that I could handle it now, so he was no longer angry. In my head, he was still angry and he was going to make me “pay.” Also, I still needed to do something because what he was telling me wasn’t the truth. Still not talking about the homicidal rage which is making my suicidal thoughts, wanting to injure myself, nightmares, waking up at 2am everyday, agitation, and hypervigilance increase (they are defenses against feeling the rage).

Then, I met with the new surgeon on Wednesday and everything was perfect even the parking. I really like the doctor and the front office and they are within HIIPA regulations. The tumor could be a lipoma, simply a fatty tissue mass, or another benign type of tumor or a cancerous one. After discussing the options, I decided that I want to have it completely removed. The surgeon then said, “Good, that is what I would have wanted to do.” So, I am having surgery on October 15 which is the main week that my therapist will be on vacation, so I’ll be focused on recuperating and sleeping lots. It works out good. (Oh, the new surgeon is going to discuss my experience with the other surgeon. This is good because I don’t want the doctor to get into trouble, but he needs to know what is going on.)

Today I have a 1 ½ hour session to talk about what I’ve been avoiding and we have a joint session with my husband scheduled for Tuesday to discuss what happened in the garage. This whole thing is beginning to really interfere in our relationship as I want to really hurt my husband (defense) and he doesn’t know what has happened in the garage. He respectfully doesn’t read my blog. I figured that instead of pushing him away and not talking about my flashbacks and what I want to do that I would have the joint session to hopefully open the way for me to let him be supportive and someone that I can talk to.

Needless to say, I’ve been having a really difficult time. I don’t feel scared about the surgery and wonder if God has given me some peace about it as normally I would be bouncing off the walls. Or, maybe I am and I’m not aware of it? Am I pushing it? Not really because I so need to talk. By not talking, I become more symptomatic and feel horrible. By talking, I might become more symptomatic, but feel relieved and increase my supports. Anyone want to trade places with me for a month or so? So, I hope you understand if I continue to be inconsistent for awhile as I am going up and down with what I can handle.

(Oh, for those of you that I usually correspond with via email. I'm sorry that I did not email you, but I am kinda pushing people that are close to me away right now...I'll get it together soon. I think? I hope you understand.)

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY ~ September 30, 2005 ~ 6 PM ~ Mother flashbacks

Geoffrey,

[I wrote about how difficult my work day had been and had several triggers.] ...All day, I wanted to cut and bruise and to really hurt myself. Thought about making purchases. And, kept going away. I went through a red light and stopped at a green [dissociating while driving]. Scared me. I really just felt bad all day and teared up, at times. After my meetings, I had no focus, so I finger painted [which is posted on Courageous Steps].

I thought some about what you said about my not saying anything or running away as a way to protect my mother. Feels bad because I interpreted as I should have done or said something. But, I also get the part about protecting her. I think there is some truth in it. But, still feels like I was bad for not saying or doing anything to make it stop. [Normal guilt from someone who was abused. It is part of the process.]

This morning one of the things that I remembered was my mother yelling at me when we went skiing and a snowstorm started. I remember, I was really scared to move as I couldn't see in front of me and the cliff was on my left side, but I couldn't see it.

My mother kept screaming at me to ski down the mountain and she just kept getting more and more angry. I wanted to cry because I was so scared because I couldn't see where I was going and she kept screaming at me. I know though, she was screaming because she was scared and the storm was getting much worse. I remember starting to cry a bit once. I finally got down and into the car. But she continued to yell at me for not obeying her. I stopped tearing up and just went away. I knew she kept yelling and eventually stopped. Don't know why this came to mind this morning. [Thinking about it now, it seems like I was trying to tell myself what my mother was responsible for and I wasn't. And, just in general continuing to have flashbacks.]

Feels like a part of me is just really sad and need to cry. I think, it would have been more helpful if she would have acknowledged I was scared and gently talked me down the mountain. Instead, I got down because she scared me. Not that the snowstorm wasn't scary enough. She has often talked about it since and referred to me as being stubborn, I don't think that she got that I was scared, but maybe she did. I understand that she was yelling because she was scared. [Again, her borderline thinking and needing me to be bad because she can't see or accept her part in it.]

I was scared most of the time growing up...scared of my mother, my father, my step-father, and his father. And, I felt bad all the time, wanted to die, was afraid of being killed, felt overwhelmed, panicked and so alone and misunderstood. Felt like I didn't matter, wasn't important and that it wasn't okay to cry, be sad, be angry, be scared or even be excited and happy. I was bad for wanting comfort, someone to listen to me, for existing, not wanting to go to my step-father's parents and wanting to stay at my Grandparents home. It wasn't even okay to talk about my feelings...and they felt so jumbled. [I remember being really confused and feeling alone with my thoughts and feelings.]

I wonder if part of my not killing myself was also a way of protecting my mother. But, sometimes I hated her because when the bottom line came she always chose my step-father over me even if previously she told me differently. Action wise, she always chose him. Felt like I didn't exist sometimes, I wasn't important.

I didn't matter except for when she needed my comfort or for me just to listen to her complain about him and how she wanted to leave him and was going to...but the next moment, she would be all affectionate with him and angry with me...all very confusing. Felt like I had to listen to her complain and had to listen to her complain and degrade my father. [Borderline symptoms again with my being either all good or all bad and she need my step-father to be all good because of her fears of abandonment.]

I can't remember not being her source of comfort and someone to listen to her. But, it was never okay for me to talk about my feelings...either they were invalidated, minimized, teased or she would become angry. I feel like screaming and crying. Sometimes, when I feel like screaming...it seems like it comes from a preverbal time. Maybe, even as an infant, I just wanted to curl up and disappear.

The flashbacks make me feel like I'm going crazy...can't get the sounds, sensations, feelings or the images out of my head. Makes me want to injure myself or die.

Observations: Again, I find it amazing how I am having the same issues now and struggling with crying and accepting my mother the way she really is/was. This process is long and painful.

Thinly Veiled Denial ~ Child's Play!

I've been holding this thin veil of denial of how extreme my home environment was as well as how extreme my symptoms were/are. I have always been embarrassed and ashamed about the way that I played with my stuffed animals and dolls. But, I started writing and talking about it in therapy last week. I know what the implications of how I played are and don't want that reality to sink in, but like with my "new" diagnosis, I really can't look at it in any other way.

In play projection is used, operating unconsciously, in which what is emotionally unacceptable in the self is unconsciously rejected and attributed (projected) to others or to toys like stuffed animals and dolls in children to be integrated later. For children they are given the opportunity to play out his accumulated feelings of tension, frustration, insecurity, aggression, fear, bewilderment, confusion or to reenact what was done to them.

I know this; yet, I am ashamed and embarrassed to reveal it to you for fear that you will think I was a disturbed child. Well, the truth, is that I was a disturbed child and what child wouldn't be growing up how I did. I also know that if I saw a child playing like this that I would wonder how are we going to remove the kid as soon as possible from the home. I'm going to close my eyes now, so I can't see how bad it was. (Doesn't work, just flashbacks...well, it was worth a try. It seems to work for kids, but I'm not anymore. I am an adult still trying to deal with the world with my child defenses.)

The following is a Wordle that I did on how I played with my stuffed animals. I shared the information with my therapist. One of the disturbing things, is that there were stuffed animals that I was afraid of due to their violent nature toward each other and me or the suicidal ones or the homicidal ones. This is not what children growing up in a healthy environment project onto their stuffed animals. Most children only project comforting things which is why they are soft and cuddly. Most of the words on it is what I did, my projections or some type of reenactments of what was done to me. And, some are just feelings I had about them or my home such as being angry, frustrated, scared of some of them, thinking something was wrong with me, bad and ashamed.

(Click on the picture for a larger view)

Further adding to the tearing down of my denial and my shame is how I played with my Ken and Barbie dolls. I also had two others that were much smaller, so I made them the children. I made huge house extensions using my children’s encyclopedias. One of the smaller dolls was the child the other one was usually a friend. Barbie used to yell, hit and slap the child. I also would hit her or put her in a corner or throw her across the room. Ken would undress her and use his belt or a kitchen utensil to hit her all over, but usually laying face down on the bed. Sometimes, she would be on her back with her legs up and hit. Sometimes, clothing or string would be used to tie her down. Sometimes, they would have sex together. Sometimes, I would put her in the corner of my closet and close the door for days because I couldn't stand to see her.

Shows a lot of reenactment and projection especially of feeling bad and needing to be punished and self-hatred. I don't want to know that I played that way, but it isn't a repressed memory. I have always known that I played this way and just never wanted to see the implications even though I knew. Now, it works to verify what really happened and I don't want to look at it. I was a disturbed child for good reasons. I feel a little sadness, pain and compassion as I remember playing that way. It would be disturbing for me now to watch a child play in that manner. I would want to know, "what the hell happened to this kid!"

Reality Settles Even Deeper ~ Dissociative Disorder NOS

Although the following video is about children, I think it gives a good description of how dissociative disorders develop which if left untreated continue into adulthood creating significant problems with daily living. (Plus, it was the only decent one I could find.)

First of all "dissociation is a mental process that causes a lack of connection in a person's thoughts, memory and sense of identity. Dissociation seems to fall on a continuum of severity. Mild dissociation would be like daydreaming, getting "lost" in a book, or when you are driving down a familiar stretch of road and realize that you do not remember the last several miles. A severe and more chronic form of dissociation is seen in the disorder Dissociative Identity Disorder, once called Multiple Personality Disorder, and other Dissociative Disorders. (Mental Health America)

Dissociative Disorder (NOS) is different from DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder), so please don't confuse the two. Tempy over at Crackers and Juice Boxes wrote a post where part of it was excellent on explaining the continuum. Please take a look at her post. I have provided the links and while your there take a look around.

"People who suffer a severe trauma might wrestle with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). If a person experiences ongoing and severe trauma, particularly if the trauma began when the person was a young child, he might develop an even more severe dissociative disorder, with the most extreme disorder being Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). Because a child is creating a way to survive severe trauma, the resulting dissociative disorder might not fall neatly into a description of DID or other pre-defined dissociative disorder. If the person's symptoms are clearly dissociative in nature but do not fall under any of the predefined criteria for DID or other dissociative disorder, the diagnosis is likely to be Dissociative Disorder--Not Otherwise Specified (DD-NOS). (e-how ~ Faith Allen)"

So, why am I bring this short description up now?. I was recently diagnosed with Dissociative Disorder-NOS which is due to a chronic and severely abusive, traumatic childhood. Since I worked in the mental health field, I knew that I have been fitting the criteria. However, I never discussed it because I didn't want to hear the answer. But, I actually saw it in two letters last week for appeals with my insurance company from both my psychiatrist and my therapist.

It surprisingly has had an impact on me. I am feeling a distressed. I think, because it indicates how horrendous things really were growing up. I understand how this develops and I never really thought of my circumstances as that bad. Although this blog has made that harder to believe. In reality, that was my own thinly veiled denial which I am coming out of and dealing with my past and my feelings in therapy. Still this made reality bigger. It is like I can't ignore it. That combined with Friday's session which I will write about tomorrow, has me really wanting to defend which I am.

Instead of using the word dissociate, I usually say, "going away" or "fragmenting" or "leaving" or "feeling disconnected." At times, I will lose touch with reality, become disoriented, lose time, not hear parts of conversations, become unresponsive, and mentally and emotionally "leave."

Writing this was difficult and has really been the first time that I have really acknowleged my "new" diagnosis. I think this was a good step for me. However, I still do not want to believe that my childhood was that bad, but I really do know. But, sometimes, I still want to pretend.

My Truth ~ My Childhood (Director's Cut)

When I completed the last slideshow, I felt that it was incomplete as I had to edit out too many of the pictures and what I wanted to say out of it. I am using a different program and have more room for images, so this one feels like it reflects my childhood until therapy began at 21 best. At the end, is a picture of God's promise to me...I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it...excuse me, WE, all of those who support me including God, are working on it.

This program allows for pause, back up and forward. It also does not automatically start, so it is not running all the time. I like that part because you can choose to run it or not.

Trigger Warning as usual. Shows graphic depictions and triggers of verbal, physical, and sexual abuse. Do not watch it you are not in a safe place and if triggered take care of yourself. Remember, don't push yourself.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: September 1, 2005 ~ 6:30 pm ~ Remembering Pain

Geoffrey,

Last night and today especially in the morning was loud with the thinking of purchasing things and wanting to cut, bruise and burn. Last night, I played the recording that I have on the micro cassette recorder and fell asleep to it. This morning, I could not concentrate on work.

I'm feeling really disconnect right now. Feeling this way on and off today with moments of being on the verge of tears. Also, feeling anxious and a bit fearful. Feeling bad about sharing the fantasies. Keep thinking, I'm bad for having them...and then project that you thing I'm a horrible person for having them.

I feel really shut down. A lot like I did as a teenager and younger. Now, I am a bit tearful. So many different feelings...anger, rage, terror, confusion, abandonment, hurt and pain. I feel achy all over and my chest and throat hurts. Feels like I got hit in the stomach. Remember feeling kind of empty, hopeless and alone. Just seems like so many things were really painful. One of the most difficult parts is feeling hopeless and anxious and not having anyone to talk to.

I felt so alone and wanted someone just to talk to who would understand and comfort me some. Right now,I just ache all over and want to cry...tearing up. Wanted so much for someone just to care about me and how I felt. Wanted not to feel like I was bad. Wanted just to feel like I belonged and that someone wanted me. Really getting tearful now, but can't cry. I want to curl up and just cry. Wanted someone to cry with. Wanted to be listened to.

Observations: I hate the dangling participles!! As I wrote this, it reminds me of my my most current slideshow and how accurately it depicted what I just wrote. By the way, I revised it...it is the unedited director version. I used a different program to put in all the picture that I wanted.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: August 28, 2005 ~ Hitting & Crying

Geoffrey,

After talking about the teasing...I also feel like crying which is stuck in my throat. I can also feel it in my chest and stomach. Really just wanting to just go away. Completely numb out. I remember feeling like this a lot growing up.

I am really wanting to hurt myself so much. I so much want to cut and bruise...both, one doesn't seem like enough right now. Remember, so much hurt when they teased. It was like they were intentionally being mean and felt like a personal attack on who I was, so I wanted to just go away disappear and die. Felt so embarrassed that I even asked or shared anything.

Had difficulty staying asleep Friday night. Kept waking up feeling like I was being teased, but mostly feeling like my mother was hitting me. Remember, so many times just sitting in my room feeling like crying, but not daring to do so. Somewhere very, very early I decided not to cry. And it became easy to shut it down quickly where no one would notice. Crying would just create more difficulties. Either, I would get teased more. Or if if was related to an argument, or getting hit or screamed at, it would just make it worse. On/off flashing back to sitting in my room or lying in my bed feeling like crying. Seems like I wanted to cry quite frequently.

Some flashbacks are of my mother slapping me...scared me so much and I felt so trapped...couldn't move because it would make her more angry and she would hit me more. Couldn't say anything and I wouldn't dare cry, no matter what...it would just make it worse. Just pretend nothing happened which is what she did too.

Remember, how hard she would hit, sometimes knocking me off balance, sometimes, she would grab me up off the floor, sometimes she'd knock my glasses off my face. I remember some how how hard she would hit. Sometimes, it would sting for a long time after she left. It really hurt. And sometimes it really, really hurt if she caught my cheek bone with her wedding ring which was really heavy. Feeling panicky now.

Sometimes, she would use her right hand, but mostly, she would use he left hand. She was able to use both with equal force. Sometimes, she would grab my arm and hold me when she slapped me which meant she was really angry, so it hurt more and then it could mean multiple slaps. I just wanted to hide my face which would have made it worse.

A couple of times, I bit the inside of my lip or cheek and bleed, but never let her see it. Afterward, I just went to the restroom and rinsed my mouth out. When I was older, she it harder and sometimes slugged me with her fist on my back which was worse because I was usually taken off guard some as she came from behind. She would knock the wind out of me. She rarely left marks except for maybe some small bruises on my arms. Sometimes, she would be completely silent and just leave, other times, she would be screaming at me...never understood what I did wrong.

It was so much worse if she was screaming because that would enrage my step-father and he would grab me and start screaming in my face. Sometimes, I would hit myself afterward or later that evening or the next day. When I was a little older, I would either cut or bruise. What I really wanted to do, but could not even do so by myself is cry and scream.

Sometimes, I could identify what I did wrong, but that was rare. Funny thing is that when I actually did something wrong, my mother usually lectured and grounded me which was rare. Sometimes, she would ignore what I did. Really confusing and unpredictable.

I'm really feeling like cutting and bruising. Numb out. Feel bad. Feel sick and keep having flashbacks. Want the feeling to stop. My feelings were hurt a lot...realizing maybe I wasn't too sensitive, but that is was just really bad. I feel like crying and it is still stuck.

Observations: When I first wrote this two years ago, I was really for the first time writing down somewhat of how bad my mother used to get with hitting me. What also strikes me is my inability to cry which stopped in infancy. It currently, like my last session, is a problem because I really, really feel like crying, but all my defenses are extremely high (fragmenting, suicidal thoughts, want to injure myself, etc...) There just seems to be so much prohibition to not cry. I can really feel it now and I just ache all over and my throat, chest, stomach and neck really hurt.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: August 25, 2005 ~ Teasing

I've been debating in my head whether or not to share this journal entry because if my family read it especially my mother, they would know this is me. However, it feels like I really need to say something because it is still a source of great embarrassment and pain. Teasing seems like such a simple thing, but both my therapist and psychiatrist used the word sadistic in describing what my mother and step-father did. No one in my family will probably read this anyway. But, I consider this a brave step.

Geoffrey,

I am remembering being teased at school about wearing the same shoes, jacket and glasses everyday..."same old." I remember coming home and telling my mother and step-father about it. They responded by laughing and repeating the same taunts and added their own like, "same old Clueless." I remember being confused and angry and like it would have been better if I hadn't said anything in the first place.

I just wanted some comfort and maybe another pair of shoes. They continued to tease me on/off for a while even years later my mother still does it now. Sometimes, it would be "Same old Clueless, Same old pants, Same old shirt, Same old dress, and same old face." The same old Clueless and face were the most hurtful. [I still am embarrassed just by writing this...like something is wrong with me.]

I learned not to share problems with other kids with them. I just wanted some comfort and to know how to handle it. Afterward, I just felt so bad...I was being too sensitive and wanted just to die. I walked away feeling a little angry...and ended up being told, "Same old Clueless is being too sensitive again."

I remember my best friend in Elementary school telling me she was 1/4 (insert race) [well, now you know, I'm not Caucasian!] and I came home and told them and asked how much (insert race) was I? They immediately laughed. I felt so embarrassed, like I shouldn't have asked, I should already know, it was a silly question. My stomach sank and my throat got tight. [I teared up the first time I wrote this]

My mother asked what makes you think that you are not all (insert race). I said I didn't know, but my friend isn't, so how much am I. I remember feeling so ashamed for not knowing. I'm not even sure I ever got an answer. But, they both continued to tease me even after I was married and my step-father was out of the picture, my mother called me "1/4 Clueless."

I was really confused. I thought I was asking a simple question. I didn't understand genetics. [I didn't know exactly what my biological parent were and my step-father was Caucasian. I feel really ashamed just writing this.] I just wanted my question answered. I stopped asking too many questions or asked my grandparents.

I remember learning in school about embryos and that at the beginning you can't differentiate human ones from some animal ones. One area of commonality is that a small tail forms on both. She explained that in humans it became the tail bone and in animals it develops into a tail. I was really excited and thought it was interesting, so I came home and told my mother and step-father when they came home.

They wouldn't let me finish and started teasing me and kept saying "where is your tail." By then, I was so flustered that I couldn't remember the answer and said something like it goes in your pants. They started laughing even more and asked me to pull out my tail. They were laughing so hard and I was so humiliated. They even told the rest of my family. I felt like my feelings were crushed. I went to being so excited to feeling really bad that I couldn't remember the right answer. I just wanted to share something exciting. As a result, I stopped sharing even more and became more withdrawn.

I never received a telephone call, card or gift from my father except for one. It was a stuffed animal, a frog. Well, I didn't like them, but my mother and step-father thought it was funny and began making frog sounds and purchasing frog t-shirts and knick-knacks. This was really painful given my relationship with my father and that I didn't like frogs.

[This feels like a good place to insert that I have always been scared of snails. I know it is unreasonable. But, my step-father knowing this used to chase me around with them, line them on the walkway so I'd get upset, used them in some of the sexual abuse, and put them on the outside of my bedroom window. Once, while running away from him I bit my mother and lost my tooth and was she mad at me.]

[Although this was written two years ago the next two paragraphs still hold true right now.] I felt so ashamed. Even embarrassed to write this. Felt humiliating. I can hear them laughing. Sometimes, I would hit myself with my fist. What makes it worse is that they would tease for at least everyday, several times a day for about a week, then occasionally. But, my mother still brings it up now by saying, "Oh, you remember same old Clueless...same old face...same old shoes. You're 1/4 aren't you? Show us your tail." [It confuses my husband, but now he knows not to ask my family questions. I'll tell him later]

I just laugh it off and walk away. I'm really embarrassed and afraid to say anything fearing the same responses of more teasing or being told I'm just too sensitive or that I'm making a big deal out of nothing.

My Truth ~ My Childhood Slideshow

This slide show will be triggering, so if you are not in a good place do not watch it!!! Don't even try to push yourself!! If you are triggered, please go to your safe places and people. You can also blog or write a long comment. I don't mind and Blogger seems to take it. Be gentle with yourself.

This particular slideshow has been in the works on and off for a couple of weeks. I felt compelled to put it together and at the same time it repelled me. I did not want to deal with the content. I do note that there is some lack of emotional words, but the pictures speak louder than words.

I am very apprehensive about posting this one and there is shame at what I experienced and what I have done. Again, is it really okay to share what is really inside. Also, I don't want to believe that it is about me and I am afraid of how people will respond because it is difficult for me to watch. Yet, another step of telling my truth ~ my childhood. And, the fears that come.

I also really did this slideshow for my process which also means that there are some things that won't make any sense, but to me. Don't worry about not getting it. Thanks.

Past & Present all in my head and feelings!! ~ Slideshow I

This slide show will be triggering, so if you are not in a good place do not watch it!!! Don't even try to push yourself!! If you are triggered, please go to your safe places and people. You can also blog or write a long comment. I don't mind and Blogger seems to take it. Be gentle with yourself.

I wasn't feeling up to writing, but felt like I really wanted to finish this slide show that I've been working on. It is a way to tell myself and others what has been going on inside due to my current work in therapy and the flashbacks. I am overwhelmed, but I feel good about the slideshow. Yet, a little ashamed and embarrased as I again feel like I'm showing you a little too much of my soul. But, there must be a part of me that wants to share it; otherwise, I would not have posted it. It was also helpful for me in expressing, in someway, what it feels like in my head and my body. I think I will also put it up in my sidebar, but it will be more difficult to see.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: July 28, 2005~during work day

Hi Everyone!!! Yesterday's post and Wordle did me in...cannot focus on my mother right now. I am emotionally exhausted. So, here is a journal entry.


Geoffrey,

It is so very loud today...the suicidal thoughts, the plans, wanting to cut and bruise and planning ways to do it at work, wanting to die, the flashbacks and feeling bad.

I think, the feeling bad was made worse by two of my coworkers being very loud and wearing a lot of fragrance. Also, I've been panicky and generally on edge and overwhelmed and when they came in it just added, so much to it.

Feeling bad about what we talked about yesterday and just this week. Also, getting anxious with you being out of town. Also, feels like I need to cry. I just want to disappear and go away. Just die.

"Why," keeps running through my head. Why did my step-father and his father, Jon and the day program do what they did? I find it confusing. I also feel bad because I liked their attention and special treatment. I liked them and though that they liked me.

I keep hearing you saying that my step-father was sadistic. That seems really hard to accept. I don't want to see it like that. Yet, I know it fits. Even harder to see my mother in that light.

I've been in the car trying to get some quiet, bet now there is a jack hammer and gardeners going on all around me. I am feeling overwhelmed by all the noise. And, I don;t want to go back to the office.

So, I went for a walk. Came back and it was quiet until the two same coworkers returned from lunch. However, they did eventually quiet some. But, I've been feeling really overwhelmed, panicky and on edge. The thoughts have been getting louder. I found the utility knife at work, but didn't use it. Tempting. Feel like crying.

Sometimes, I feel like crying just because it feels good to have you listen to me. Your support and encouragement feels good. Really scares me too.

Also, thinking about what I said about when you went to San Jose about feeling like you were intentionally trying to hurt me. Makes more sense now, but only if I take into account that my step-father and my mother were sadistic. It is such a harsh word.

It has been bugging me trying to remember what you said over the weekend about why the teasing bothered me so much.

Flash of pictures, feelings and sensations about all the things we've been talking about. Feels so crazy, intrusive and stressing.

Observations: I am really emotionally wiped out, so I am not going to make any here. Maybe, later tomorrow or maybe not.

Growing up with a mother with a borderline personality disorder!!

If you are a parent with borderline personality disorder or any other type of mental illness, do not run away and I hope you don’t take this personally or become defensive because this is not my intent. I want to tell you what I experienced. Part of the damage is because my mother does not take responsibility for anything and everything is someone else’s fault. She doesn’t have any insight, does not think anything is wrong with her, has never had any treatment and still treats me in the same manner. Also, I did not have any sort of counter balance with her. If you are reading this, it probably means that you do have insight and have some way of counter balancing when you slip. When reading this please be gentle with yourself. Even with my having had a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder, my therapist told me that I would make a good mother.

Over the last couple of weeks, besides what has been going on in my blog, therapy has been extremely difficult as I am having a flood of auditory, visual and body memories related to the things that my mother used to say to me. My therapist is trying to get me to see that it doesn’t make sense because she has a borderline personality disorder (BPD). It only makes sense in the context that she was severly borderline.

Yes, my mother has a severe borderline personality disorder which I don’t really want to look at. I am defending and trying everything I can to look at something else, but her voice and what she said has been so loud in my head. My therapist assigned a Wordle to put those thoughts down on paper and I put over 100 phrases. I posted it, but you can’t read it because it is too small. You have to click on the picture to get a larger view. But, I don’t want anyone doing that until I’ve explained some of what a borderline personality disorder is and how I experienced it. This is going to be at least a two part series.

There are four books I recommend which are on the Amazon recommendation list on the widget in the right sidebar. They are I Hate You-Don't Leave Me, Stop Walking on Eggshells, Understanding the Borderline Mother and Surviving a Borderline Parent. Almost all of the clinical information will be coming from these books. Stop Walking on Eggshells has a workbook also their subtitle is Taking You Life Back When Someone You Care About Has Borderline Personality Disorder.

For me, the sexual abuse was horrendous and I am still working though it, but it was not the most damaging part of my abuse. It actually has its roots in my mother’s BPD and her ambivalence in not wanting me. Actually, neither of my parents wanted me and seemed to hate each other along with my father’s father not wanting me and blaming my mother on the pregnancy. Yes, they were married because of her being pregnant with me. She was never treated for her BPD and will deny that she needs therapy as a result she still does some of the same things to me as when I was a child.

In the Introduction to Surviving a Borderline Parent, it explains some of what a child might go through. “As a child, did you feel like you fell short, disappointing a parent, stepparent, or caretaker because you weren’t good enough, didn’t do enough, or just weren’t able to please, no matter how hard you tried? Did you feel responsible for your parent’s happiness and guilty if you felt happy yourself? Did you feel damned if you did and damned if you didn’t, that whatever you did or said was the wrong thing (and boy would you pay for it)? Were you accused of things you hadn’t done? Did you feel manipulated at times? Feel appreciated one minute and attacked the next? Thought you must be ‘crazy’ because a parent’s actions or reactions didn’t make any sense? Question your own intuition, judgment, or memory, believing you must have missed or misinterpreted something? Did you feel on guard all the time, that life with you parent was never predictable?

You weren’t crazy. Not then, and not now, though it may still feel that way. What felt crazy-making to you may well have been being parented by someone who had traits of borderline personality disorder.

No one chooses their parents and, as young children, once you’re brought into this world, you’re not in a position to opt out of your relationship with them In fact, you desperately need them-to provide food and shelter, to prompt you to learn, to model ways to interact in society, to nurture you, to show you affection, and to provide unconditional love. A parent with BPD, however, may not have been able to consistently provide all of these things to you, through no fault of deficit of yours. They may not have received that kind of care themselves. It may seem ironic, but your parent may actually have consciously or unconsciously reinforced you as the caretaker to meet his or her needs, to be the nurturer and provider of emotional support, even though you were a child.”

A couple of years ago when I first read this opening, I was quite shocked to see that someone put into words everything I experienced. Even, today as I write it, I still feel as if those words were meant directly for me. Also, I was definitely the "adult" and caretaker of my mother feeling the need to protect her, defend her and calm her down. (This is a really difficult post for me to write...I just want to go away, but it is also reinforcing that she really was borderline)

The following is a table taken from Understanding the Borderline Mother.

Variations in Maternal Functioning

The Ideal Mother versus The Borderline Mother

1. Comforts her child versus Confuses her child.


2. Apologized for inappropriate behavior versus Does not apologize or remember inappropriate behavior.


3. Takes care of herself versus Expects to be taken care of.


4. Encourages independence in her children versus Punishes or discourages independence.


5. Is proud of her children's accomplishments versus Envies, ignores, or demeans her children's accomplishments.


6. Builds her children's self-esteem versus Destroys, denigrates, or undermines self-esteem.


7. Responds to her children's changing needs versus Expects children to respond to her needs.


8. Calms and comforts her children versus Frightens and upsets her children.


9. Disciplines with logical and natural consequences verses Disciplines inconsistently or punitively.


10. Expects that her children will be loved by others versus Feels left out, jealous or resentful if the child is loved by someone else.


11. Never threatens abandonment versus Uses threats of abandonment (or actual abandonment) to punish the child.


12. Believes in her children's basic goodness versus Does not believe in her children's basic goodness.


13. Trusts her children versus Does not trust her children.

Okay, it is my turn to address each one of these the best I can in terms of my relationship with my mother...does anyone else want to volunteer for this please...oh, this is a blog not an interactive class. *sigh* I guess, I make the first comments, huh?

1. Comfort was always confusing to me because even to this day I do not think of her as a comforting person to go to. I would end up being yelled at, teased, comforting her, discounted or completely ignored. I quickly learned that she was not a person to go to.


2. Apologies are definitely not one of my mother's strong points. I actually cannot ever remember her apologizing to me. And, when "confronted" she would deny having done anything or saying anything wrong.


3. Taking care of herself is something that she did not do very well and I often, as I stated above, took care of her. My family tells a story of my getting angry at my grandmother for yelling at my mother. I kicked my grandmother and told her to be nice to her. I was only three.


4. Independence was a fine line because sometimes she wanted me to be more independent than I was prepared for or was age appropriate and, other times, I was too stupid to do it myself. At the age of 6, I walked halfway down the block to a major street past the 7-11, which was robbed numerous times, past the gun shop across one small street to purchase bread at the little bread store in the neighborhood.


5. Being proud is one thing that I'm actually unsure of because I know that she has said that she was proud of my accomplishments at school. I graduated with highest honors from high school and with honors from college and was given an big deal award from our faculty, but there was something in it that always felt like I was an extension of her so she was proud of herself and not necessarily me. I don't know if that makes sense to you. My therapist understands though. I've experience envy, ignoring and demeaning behavior toward me especially in relationship to my marriage, but I won't get into it. It would be a whole post in itself.


6. What self-esteem can occur when you are constantly being told you are stupid, evil, can't do anything and are teased and taunted at every opportunity.


7. Needs are something I don't think she ever saw in me. She has always said that she never had to worry about me. Even when I was admitted for my first psychiatric hospitalization she told me, "that I've always had a good head on my shoulders and have made good decisions." So, does that mean that I didn't need anyone because I had decided to hospitalize myself? What part of psychiatric hospitalization do people not get?


8. Well, I already wrote about calms and comforts. When I was a kid, I hit my head on a sharp edge of a coffee table and a family member saw it and I was calm and so was she. But, when my mother saw it she became hysterical and had to be calmed down and then I burst into tears because she scared me. I ended up needing stitches, but she was outside with a nurse who calmed her down while a family member held my hand and calmed me. Normally, I'm the one who can most immediately calm her down.


9. Discipline is something that was rather confusing because it never made sense when I would get into trouble or not. I could do exactly the same thing or say the same thing in the same circumstances and be ignored or it would blow up into this huge thing with her yelling at me and hitting me. It was like walking on eggshells all the time or a minefield, never knowing what was going to be set off and the mines kept moving. This was both with my mother and step-father. I received it from both sides.


10. Expects that others would love me. Uh, no not my experience because I was told that I was unlovable, evil, bad and that no one wanted me, liked me or loved me. "Feels left out, jealous or resentful if the child is loved by someone else." I do remember thinking in some circumstances that she was jealous or resentful of the attention I received versus her from certain individuals. Then, she would become extremely hostile and passive-aggressive toward me.


11. Abandonment, well my life started out with that, but as I became older it was threatened. She would tell me that she was going to just leave me somewhere or to kill me.


12. My goodness was obviously not a thing she believed with all the stuff that she did and said that constantly told me that I was evil and bad. I don't think I can get into that now...too difficult. Although the Wordle would give you an idea of what it has been like. It is on the side bar entitled, "Mommy Says!"


13. I really don't want to think or write about my mother trusting me or not.

So, that was difficult and that is a glimpse into what growing up with a borderline mother. No solid attachment anywhere or predictability. Please, unless you think you might be triggered, read the Wordle to gain a better perspective of the types of things that were said to me. I have left out quite a bit of information that would identify me much of which is the teasing and taunting phrases and family stuff. But, you will get a good enough picture.

Well, I am exhausted after doing this post and dealing with this in therapy. I think the most tiring part is that I am fighting the process. So enough for now, if I feel up to it, I'll do another part of it for tomorrow's post; otherwise, my old journal entries will have to do. Oh, don't forget to check out my Amazon book recommendations also. (hee-hee. I get paid if you purchase the books via my link or even if you click on it. Shhhh).

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: July 27, 2005 ~ 6:20 pm ~ before session

Geoffrey,

I got through my afternoon meetings okay. Actually, I think, I did some good work with some difficult situations. But, it was like the moment the meeting ended the flashbacks, wanting to die, wanting to kill myself, make purchases and cut and bruise myself started even before I would leave the room.

Your call this afternoon was helpful, as well, as your recordings. [I was having a continually escalating difficult time with the thoughts and flashbacks. I was also calling him much more than before.] I went home in between meetings just to use the restroom and was tempted to bruise, but I remembered my promise to you this afternoon during our telephone call and did not do anything. Waiting for the Metrolink train to pass, I thought about that being a way to kill myself, but I wouldn't want to put anyone through that.

I've been thinking about what my step-father did is in a different category than his father, Jon and the day program. Then, I began to remember some of those incidents. After the time with my step-father, his father used to come into the room in the morning when I spent the night there or if his mother were with a client and I was taking a nap. I thought, I figured out a way to stop him in the morning as I remembered I started waking up first and then going into their room. He still bothered me sometimes during my nap or if we were alone in the garage he would put his hand in my underwear and put his fingers inside.

With Jon, I remember going to Magic Mountain with him on year and had a good time just the two of us. I even have some pictures of the park which had recently opened. He took me the following year and I had a good time. But, when we got to the parking lot, he had me lay down in the back seat, took my shorts and underwear off and forced himself on me. We never went anywhere together again. I remember thinking I made him mad, that I did something wrong because he didn't like me anymore.

At the day program, I remember one of the Mexican staff used to somehow get me away from the group to a fairly secluded areas at some of the parks. He would sort of playfully tackle me to the ground and put his fingers inside me. But, after one outing there wasn't many people left and I was playing billiards back at the center with the Kinks, "Lola" in the background.

He took me and his friend to one of the activity rooms furthest away from the everyone and locked the door and he forced himself on me. Then, his friend, who I thought was going to do the same, took some sort of wooden handled thing, like a broom handle or something...it was painted red and shoved it into me which really hurt. I remember the feel of the plastic mats under me sticking and just staring at the color blocks on the wall. He used to give me special treats like ice cream and let me sit in the front seat. I thought he liked me.

What my step-father's father, Jon and what happened at the day program was bad, but somehow I really put it in a different category and discount it as it wasn't as bad as what my step-father did...they seemed gentler. Seems confusing.

Observations: At the time that these memories began, I was in much denial. Also, I did not have all of the details of the extent of the sexual abuse from my step-father, his father or Jon. I also kept trying to really minimize what did occur. What I know now is that everyone except for the day program guys participated in sadistic ritualistic sexual abuse, but first gained my trust. As a result, my feeling betrayed and that I did something wrong was really heightened. In my journals, I can tell that I am slowly remembering details of the abuse. To this day, I still have a few new memories. I'm really tired of them and wish that it would stop.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: July 25/26, 2005

Geoffrey,

As we discussed, I told my husband tonight about my bruising, but not the extent of how. I told him that this is why I've been so secretive. I also told him that I've been having flashbacks. He asked if he could do anything to help and I told him that even though during these times that I want to push him away that I really need him to hug me. He told me he really liked me letting him in and trusting him more. However, I'm feeling badly and wanting to bruise [automatic reaction to talking]

The question "why" keeps running through my head. Sometimes, followed by "what did I do wrong?" It is really difficult to accept that I couldn't do anything. Also, difficult to comprehend how my mother could know and not do anything. [It wasn't why me, but why do people do these things.]

Actually, she just hurt me more. I keep remembering how physically painful everything was. Feels like a part of me is just screaming "why?" I even remember the feel of the carpet on my skin. I keep thinking that I just wanted my step-father to like me. I don't know why that was so important. Maybe, I thought he wouldn't hurt me anymore if I could just get him to like me. I thought he hated me and sometimes thought my mother hated me too.

Beginning with last week and especially last night, I keep having flashes of my step-father and his father being on top of me in his bedroom. I want to talk and I don't want to talk. But, the flashbacks are becoming progressively louder, more vivid and there are more sensations. I think, waking up in a panic last night had to do with remembering my step-father being on top of me.

I didn't sleep very well last night and woke up extremely tired. It was good that I didn't have anything until 10 am and 10 minutes from home, so I could just do documentation and not have to interact with anyone. I think, part of the difficulty in sleeping has to do with having told my husband. Still makes me feel anxious and bad.

I'm really wanting to bruise today and I am trying really hard not to do so. I've been having some of the same flashbacks and new ones of being at my step-father's parents. I really hated going there in the summer with just him.

If my mother came, it was sort of okay. But, the summers were bad even spent several nights at a time including a week stay at a time. I really didn't want to stay. I remember being scared of my step-father and his father. It was kind of confusing because his father paid attention to me and he played the game and stuff I wanted to play, so I sort of liked him, but he scared me.

I didn't hate him like my step-father. Kind of confusing to me. But, I remember his father touching me. The house was usually really loud and lots of people were in and out all the time. I remember the smell of the incesnse which was being burned most of the time. I remember that was the first time I burned myself with the incense when no one was looking.

I remember his father being relatively quiet and passive and that he didn't work...don't know why. However, his mother was really loud and bossy. She did psychic reading usually in their bedroom and she seemed to talk non-stop. She wasn't able to work due to some neurological disease. It was fairly easy for his father to come into my step-father's room when I was taking a nap or sleeping, as know one noticed he was gone and it was so loud I don't think anyone ever heard him with me.

He was gentler than my step-father, so sometimes, I think, it wasn't as bad. And, in someways, it wasn't. It didn't hurt as much and I wasn't scared that he would harm me. I kind of liked him and thought he liked me. [My journals are telling my story as I remembered things. It was only until much later that I remembered the real truth...I couldn't handle it then.]

Feels like I need to talk about this stuff. But, it makes me really anxious. And I start to question if I'm making things up or that you are not going to believe me or that it isn't okay to talk. I've already talked about some of this before. [Again, my own thoughts and feeling and what I was told projected onto my therapist. However, every bit of it felt real and was automatic thinking.]

Past Journal Entry: July 21, 2005 ~ 6:30 PM & Gap in Time

Although my last journal entry was not that many days from this one's date, I wrote almost everyday. However, much of it was repetitive with the suicidal thoughts, and wanting to bruise. I somewhere along the way had taken some time off from work, but remained even more symptomatic. As a result, my medications were increased and the option of taking more time off was discussed. The whole Barbie incident really became intrusive and kept replaying in my head, visually and the worst part was the physical sensations. Also, I did go back to work, but had even a more difficult time in concentrating.

What I am writing today is an excerpt from that day's entry. I'm feeling a little buzzy today. I can't wait for this week to be over. It has been very hot. I'm glad for air conditioning [I have always been extremely sensitive to heat even now, I get over heated, to the point of fainting, in an air conditioned house if it is hot outside.] Remember going minature golfing and telling my mother that I wasn't feeling well and that everything was getting dark. She told me to stop playing around and didn't believe what I said...she will even refer to it now telling me that she thought I was just fooling around.

In actuality, I was reacting to the heat and was beginning to faint, so I went inside the air conditioned arcade and found a corner quickly and sat down until I felt better. I just told my mother, I was going to the restroom and rejoined them after. This began while I was in elementary school. Although others, in my family believed me and had experienced my fainting, my mother just told them that I was dramatic and looking for attention.

Feeling buzzy like my head doesn't want to take in what I wrote. Kind of feels that way about what we've been talking about for the past two weeks. Feels confusing and hard to grasp. My stomach hurts...both my stomach and chest have been hurting on/off all week.

Past Journal Entry: July 12, 2005 ~ Evening ~ Part II

Continuation of Past Journal Entry of July 12, 2005

Feels like I'm trying to comprehend how bad it got when I was a teenager, but it is like trying to grasp a cloud. I can't seem to quite get it. But, if how I've been feeling and thinking is any indication...it was quite awful [At this point in time, I am having a difficult time with finding the right words to describe how I am feeling so I just keep saying awful. My therapist says that it is/was an indication of how young I was during the first sets of trauma]. I feel like crying.

School, church and our family friend were my escapes. And, Miss B was really a good buffer...Also, someone else to take care of my mother. I really wanted to live with her...almost did one summer and semester because it was so hot. She had air conditioning, but we didn't.

From my senior year on, it seems that the only time my step-father and I spoke was when we were arguing or he was screaming or yelling at me. Not, that he was home much even when my mother was pregnant and required bed rest. I got to the point where on most nights, he didn't come home after work, but went out with his buddies and played basketball and then went drinking afterward. My mother either took her anger out on me and before she needed bed rest we would go out to eat and go shopping. Most of the time, Miss B would come.

My step-father really enjoyed boxing and would do the pay per view stuff and invite a bunch of friends over. I just remember being so on edge (even more so than just the fear of being killed) because about a week before the event my mother would start to get moody and then the whole cleaning of the house while screaming at me the day of the event.

Then, the party would be so loud. Sometimes, I had to stay home and listen to my mother complain. Other times, we would go shopping. He would always end up drunk and would never help setting up or cleaning after. So, my mother would be even angrier when we cleaned up and would either complain the whole time, throw things and/or scream at me. I used to get so anxious throughout the whole process. And, everyone in the house would be on edge and there would be daily arguments about it.

I am really grateful that my husband doesn't watch sports or even television much and doesn't need to have things loud.

During my second semester in college, my step-father had a psychiatric hospitalization for almost slugging his supervisor, but instead hit his locker injuring his hand. (Sure wish, I could have seen his chart) Afterward, he was home all the time on disability and began a lawsuit against his employer, which he eventually won a settlement. But, that was another source of their arguing.

Often, I didn't sleep as, he would be typing notes on an electric typewriter all night without going to bed or he would be up all night watching television...usually adult films...the volume was loud. Since he wasn't working, he was home all the time. I started working which helped, but that was also when my eating disorder became a more significant problem as my boss even talked to me about my weight loss and not eating.

My third semester was really awful because I wasn't going to school as I took time off to go to Europe, so took the whole semester off. The problem was that my step-father wasn't working, so often it was the two of us at home. I tried to stay in my bedroom as much as I could and worked as much as I could. It made me even more anxious all the time. Also, a couple I met at church befriended me, and "adopted" me into their family which helped a great deal as they had a son that required "babysitting."

I came across some of my journaling during this time and afterward until the divorce and it all sounds so familiar. Constantly, thinking of specific ways to kill myself and thinking that it would be better off if I were dead, that no one cares, I don't matter, I'm manipulative, I want too much and that I really hate myself. So many writings with those exact words. I though of suicide everyday and continued with the self-injury with bruising and cutting. I remember feeling so hopeless, misunderstood, alone, trapped and that I was bad.

Also, in the writing was my anger toward my mother because she constantly compared me to my best friend and say things like, "Why couldn't you be more like her." According to my writings, she used to tell me that my best friend was prettier, smarted, got along with her parents, didn't cause problems, etc...

I guess, I have always felt I wasn't enough or didn't deserve to be alive or exist. I just caused too many problems. I was also anxious and scared all the time. Although I don't remember it, the college group leader recently told me that he remembers my being afraid to go home.

Past Journal Entry: July 12, 2005 ~ Evening ~ Part I

Geoffrey,

After session, I was feeling really overwhelmed and felt like crying. Went to go buy fingerpainting paper as I only had a few sheets left. Kept having thoughts of wanting to die and hitting myself with the hairbrush. Kept feeling really overwhelmed and confused because all my feelings seemed to be so jumbled.

I came home and while I went to throw the hair brush away, I hit myself and stopped after a several times. Then, I threw it away. Still really wanted to hurt myself and die, so I fingerpainted a little.

Then, I've been wanting for weeks to make the lemon cake, but I couldn't find the recipe. Got obsessed with finding it and agitated. Took an hour. Then, it was time for my husband to come home, but he was late and I got worried, so I called him. He apologized.

When he came home, I became even more agitated, overwhelmed and on edge. My stomach and my chest hurt. And, I was extremely sensitive to noise and it got to noisy. I began to snap at my husband, so I went to the living room. [My borderline characteristics are showing here with my trying to pick fights with my husband. I'm feeling bad, so I'm trying to get him to feel my feelings and if he pushes back it reinforces that "I am bad." Also, I'm angry and taking it out on him.]

I still was feeling really overwhelmed and panicky, so I took both PRN's and took apart another section on the pillow. [In session, I kept pulling at things, so he gave me an old pillow to do whatever I wanted with it. In one session, I verbally expressed my anger and tore apart the pillow which was really hard to tear apart. He gave me the rest to take home to use which I did.] Then decided to go to the bedroom and write this.

I just want to curl up, cover my head and go away. The suicidal thoughts and wanting to bruise, cut or burn myself is really strong especially the bruising. But, I'm trying really hard not to act out. [Act out my feelings, instead of feeling them or to just numb out. Again, a borderline characteristic.] Realizing the way I'm feeling is how I felt all the time to some degree. Bruising or cutting would calm me down and help me to numb out.

Every little noise tonight has me on edge. Even my husband's chewing was bothering me. My step-father was a very loud person even when he ate you could hear him in the other room because he ate with his mouth open. It bothered me and my mother would complain to me about it, but she would rarely ask him to chew with his mouth closed. We always ate in front of the television which was on all the time at the volume was really loud.

Flashbacks...remembering some of the arguments, I had with him was over who was going to play with the Atari or what game, if it were a two person game. [It sounds so childish that we would have such arguments...well, he always won because if I didn't give in I'd get into trouble for being uncooperative.]

I keep snapping at my husband asking him what the noise is that he is making. I feel bad because he is just doing laundry, cleaning up and making notes to himself about what needs to be done. He asked, if it was really that noisy. I told him, "no," but I'm really on edge and just need to know what the noise is.

Growing up every noise mattered and I needed to be attuned to it, so I knew what might happen next...didn't realize how anxious that made me feel. Still have pain in my stomach and chest. Really want to hurt myself to calm down. I think, he went to bed, so that will be better...quieter.

It was really awful feeling this edge and panicky all the time. It was worse if my step-father were at home. I told you once that I thought he hated me. And, you said that something about him not being capable of love or hate. But, it still felt like he hated me and wanted me dead.

I'm wanting just to curl up and die and really wanting to hurt myself. The wanting to die and thinking of ways to kill myself became daily thoughts and hurting myself after the overdose of Tylenol became more and more frequent.

I kept so much of what went on to myself. Really thought, I was bad and responsible for how awful I felt all the time. Always thought something was wrong with me. Seems like I wanted to cry all the time.

I'm having images of taking the kitchen knife and stabbing my leg over and over again. Feel like I'm bad. Feel like it is wrong to talk, but I really feel like I need to keep talking even if it is stuff I've said before. Partly, seems like I'm trying to get you to understand. Partly, like I'm trying to tell myself how bad it was.

Feels really crazy. It is like my head can't take in it all or comprehend how bad it was. It helps when you describe the situation and tell me how it should have be even though a part of me still really thinks things were normal. But, when I hear you say it sometimes, I realize and hear a little more how crazy things were. That, I wasn't the one who was crazy.

I really feel like crying, but don't know why or even what I'm feeling. Everything feels so overwhelming and jumbled. I feel sad that hurting myself is one of the ways I learned to cope. And, that it began at such a young age is even sadder. But, it really did work and helped.

You referred to my coping as extreme. I have a hard time with you saying that it is extreme or severe. I have a hard time with what that implies...and because I still try to tell myself what I do isn't that bad. If I look at my behavior as severe of extreme then, I have to look at it as a response to that type of environment.

I still go, "It wans't that bad, I'm making it up, I was too sensitive, other people had it worse, I'm just being dramatic." [All thing that my mother told me that still is in my head today.] Feeling a little calmer now, but the thoughts are really loud and I am tearing up. Still overwhelmed and a little panicky. My stomach and chest still hurt and I feel like the tears are stuck in my throat.

July 12, 2005 entry to be continued tomorrow...

These are the fingerpainting that I painted after session and before my husband came home. What looks to be white is actually light blue.

Being a Christian with Mental Illness ~ STIGMA!!!

May be, triggering. Do not read, if you cannot handle church related issues. Please do not try because it triggered me!!

Most of you by now know that I am a Christian. Now, I don't want this to turn anyone off to Christianity because we all know there is stigma everywhere and this does not exclude the church, in fact, I think it is even more difficult to have a mental illness if you are part of a church. Also, what I am going to share is one person's opinion.

I'm part of this Christian social network which is sort of like Facebook for Christians. It has been a source of pain, anger, frustration and confusion. My feelings have been really hurt by well meaning people who haven't got a clue or have their own issues that they project onto me.

The church like non-church people are not knowledgeable or scared of mental illness because they don't understand or misunderstand. Sometimes, when people are scared or don't understand things, they think more simply like everything is good or evil; black or white. The church tends to split anyway. The church is far from perfect and I think they also tend to do this with mental illness in general or just don't know how to handle it and avoid it. People, unfortunately avoid me or I them because I don't feel safe. They just do not know what to say and do mean well. Sometimes, I just want to yell, "I'm a human first and I'm not contageious."

Anyway, at this site, I was going to leave, but decided to stay and keep mental illness in the forefront. So, once a week, I've been posting something on my blog about mental illness and start at least one discussion. My therapist told me today that this is a part of me that he really likes...the edgy side, the one that likes to stir up the pot. My intent is as long as I feel I have the energy that I will continue to do this. However, yesterday, I became really angry and today my therapist talked about how it tapped into my anger about all the cult stuff including the brain washing. I really felt like I need to share it.

This was one of my two questions and explanation for the week, "Quick what are the first two thoughts you have when I say, mental illness? I have asked this question in another online community with interesting results. First, be honest, don't give me "the Christian" answer. I want your gut honest feelings and thoughts. (You can find out more about mental illness at my blog and in "I Am Effected By Mental Illness," group). Remember be honest...no judgement here."

I've had some really touching, real answers and some of what I expected as misinformation including this one from one of the women. What I was surprised about was how angry and how much energy I am and have spent on it. TRIGGERS!!!

This was one of the replies, "I wanted to respond, I know you asked not for the "christian" answer but I do not know how else to answer. My thoughts, personal beliefs, experience, is.... That mental illness in all shapes and forms are spirits sent by satan. I suffered from clinical depression for years, but when I surrendered it all to Jesus he set me free from that, so I know that there is a cure, it's called Jesus! But God showed me that any type of illness, whether it be physical or mental all come from one place, " The devil" and God said that he has given us power." She followed it with some Bible verses.

By the way, one of the first thoughts in my head was what does surrendering it all to Jesus look like, what do you do, what does that mean? I know what it means to me, but what do you mean? I also had the sense that she was angry and also where did the depression go. My guess is that she hid behind the "Christian, I gave it to God and he healed me."

Now, I am a confident believer in healing, so I don't want that to be misrepresented. It is just that I see Christians hide behind it too often. Even with their inability to look at abortion, adultry, divorce, homosexuality and mental illness, as real issues that Christians face. Some bitterly attack these issues and cause people not to talk about it in church because they do not want to accept reality that it exists in the church. Now, this is my opinion. What is called from us, is acceptance of the person, get to know the person, no judgement because we have all sinned and not all of these issues are sins of the person. Anyway, I could go on.

I waited until I responded to her answer with this, "Thank you for sharing. I want to find out what people really think. However, I had a different type of reaction to your answer compared to others even though I expected it among the possible answers. I felt angry about what you were saying. From a very young age, I was told that I was evil, shouldn’t have been born, was the devil’s spawn and was bloodied from a beating that was to “beat the devil out of me.” I was constantly told and things were done to me that meant “I had evil spirits in me.” Well, all of that was a lie and I was being used to fulfill their evil purposes including sexual abuse. I actually was a well-behaved child, obedient, quiet and never got into any trouble.

As a child, it made me feel like I was bad, didn’t deserve to live and that I was evil. Even now, I have difficulty with these issues. I am no longer angry, but it does make me wonder with this belief system how those with medical and mental health issues feel around you. I would feel like you would be blaming me that my relationship with Jesus is not in order, but nobody’s relationship is. We are all a work in progress. Obviously, I do not share your beliefs. I think in rare cases that illnesses are related to evil spirits or Satan. In most mental illness, there are actual chemical changes that occur in the brain. Mine has much to do with my being abused.

I also know about spiritual warfare and have been involved in many prayer groups where we are trained to expect it. However, you are right, it does have to do with evil…the evil that was done to me. I am not “blaming” my childhood on my difficulties now because I am taking responsibility by taking my medication, going to psychotherapy with a Christian therapist, talking about the unspeakable, connecting with others, remaining in relationship with God and my local church who also support me in prayer and working on making changes in my thoughts and behavior."

I'm feeling better now that I've shared it here. God, I really pray she doesn't come to read my blog. I doubt it, but no it is okay. I just gave my opinion in a somewhat diplomatic way. Please do not attack the church in your comments, it will just make me want to defend or I'll agree with you and become angry.

Over doing it...again!!!

I think that the increase in my Effexor XR is working. I didn't wake up with the first thought being I want to die...that came after coffee. That is a big change. I also felt a little better and had more energy, so I started a load of laundry which for the past couple of months has been overwhelming just to sort it. I got the first load completed and started a second load...I am now feeling overwhelmed and more depressed. Oh, and I wrote a post. I think, I over did it. I always seem to do this. I think, I can do more than what is realistic. My therapist says that it is my denial over thinking that I am sick...I hate it when he is right!!

Oh, and I completed my homework assignment from my therapist which is to do a Wordle having to do with the retalition fantasies that I had against my step-father when we were alone in the apartment together. Today, I just had to get the format right.

It is about 1:30 pm, so maybe I'll take a nap after this load is finished in the dryer because I still have a post to write. Yes, I need to do so. If I don't I'm going to wake up super early tomorrow, on my own, to do it. But, nothing else after that...I promise.

Also, I've been meaning to address something that is coming across in some of the comments and emails. Most of my posts are from PAST journal entries, right now being in July 2005. But, I do have commentary and observations included in them that I write from today's perspective. I also have entries about my current process. I know it gets confusing...I get confused too. PAST entries are in BLUE. CURRENT stuff is in PURPLE. I hope it helps to clarify things. And then, my current process is about my past, so it gets even more confused and the issues are the same so...sorry I couldn't resist. :-P When is this load going to be finished?