"I don't feel good!"

In therapy this week, it has been focused on my mother and her ambivalence about me. Also, her violence toward me and possibly wanting me to die. My therapist has been really good about taking things slowly and pacing it, so I don't end up Friday in a bad place. But since my session ended about 4 hours ago, I have no idea what I'm feeling and I hate this. It isn't like I'm not feeling anything. It seems like I have no words to explain it. All that comes to mind is, "I don't feel good," but there it ends. I am on the verge of tears, but they are stuck and my chest hurts. And, all I can say is "I don't feel good." Real specific, huh? My therapist told me to just let it be there and we will figure it out. He told me not to push it. I really appreciate him being there for me and pacing things right now. Ah, a feeling...appreciative. "I don't feel good!"

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.

Past Journal Entry: July 12, 2005 ~ Morning

Geoffrey,

I am feeling ashamed, a little sad and disappointed in myself for bruising this morning. Also, afraid to tell you as I keep thinking you are going to take away the ocassional evening check-ins saying that it didn't work last night.

I bruised twice around 3 am and 5 am. The first time I stopped, but the second time, I didn't. I used an old hairbrush with the stiff plastic bristles with the nubs previously removed, so it broke skin and hurt more. Although, I hit myself less, only about 300 times and when I took a shower I was really bleeding and it stung. I didn't mean to draw so much blood. It was like I just went into a different mode.

I also really meant it last night when I promised you I wouldn't hurt myself, but it was like I literally wasn't thinking and was on automatic pilot. The early morning hours and when I'm waking up seem to be the most difficult times. Feels like I got tired of fighting. But, I did go for almost four complete days without hurting myself. I am so afraid of your response. ~END~

These are the fingerpaintings that I did the day before on 7/12/05. I painted 5 or 6, but I am displaying only three. I am also leaving out the color chart. It is abstract art, so everyone reads into it what they see, not necessarily what I meant. I thought it would be more helpful for others to just look at it as find out what they mean to them. If you don't get anything out of it don't worry, some people are not as visual and it means nothing to them. I no longer worry about fingerpainting around my husband because he doesn't see anything but a bunch of colors on paper.

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?

Past Journal Entry ~ July 9/10, 2005 Part II

Continuation of Past Journal Entry: July 9/10, 2005

When I was a preteen or teenager, I remember getting into an argument with my step-father after I asked him to turn the volume of the television down. My mother slapped me in the face and sent me to my room. Shortly, after I heard her come up the stairs and swing my door open and she started screaming at me about getting along with him and told me that I'd better watch myself because, "he could kill you." [This was ingrained in me and said to me frequently because it is one thing that runs over and over in my head and I can hear it very clearly, but not specific incidents...just many moments. And, given what I know now, I had every reason to believe that he would kill me.]

Just before, she came upstairs, I could hear them yelling at each other and that I caused the argument they were having. She left my room. I didn't respond, say anything or cry even though I could feel the tears in my throat. I started to hit my thighs with my fists. [This was the beginning of the really tough struggle with self-injury. I cause bruises, but I learned that it felt good to get my anger out and I also numbed out and didn't feel the physical pain.]

From, at least, when we lived in the apartment, I wanted to die, felt overwhelmed, terrified, angry and wanted to cry. But, for some reason I stopped crying long before that. [A lot of what I know now, I didn't when I was remembering and talking about these incidents for the first time. I now know that it began in infancy.]

There were so many nights where I couldn't sleep...not sure how I functioned at school. His drinking made everything worse and I remember my mother trying to get him to stop, but that just made it worse. When she drank, it really scared me. I'm sure he was an alcoholic, but not sure about my mother. [What I am able to tell myself now is that he was an alcoholic and my mother abused alcohol.]

I really want to die right now and hurt myself. Just remembering how awful I felt all the time and how alone I felt.

At one point, every Saturday became really bad, as it was house cleaning day and my mother was quite meticulous. We had a two story home, so sometimes it took four or more hours to do it the way she wanted. But, no matter, what I did most of the time it wasn't to her satisfaction, so she was constantly screaming at me the whole time and sometimes, she would hit me.

I never knew when she wanted to clean and on a few Saturdays, she wouldn't, but I wouldn't know ahead of time. So, I'd either be awakened by her opening my door screaming at me or her screaming at me through my door or I would be awakened by her cussing and throwing things. She even did this when I had a friend stay the night. I quickly learned not to have anyone stay over night. [My friend just packed her things and walked home. We never spoke about it. I just spent the night at her house from then on. I was so embarassed.] Other times, things would be fine...most often not.

Right now, I really want to just die and to hurt myself. I really want to bruise, but I am trying hard to keep my promises.

Remembering the argument with my step-father. I don't even know what it was about, but he started to scream at me that I was in his house and he didn't want me there and told me to leave. Then, he just kept screaming at me to leave. I left and it was getting dark, my shoes were in my room, so I left in my socks. I remember thinking, "where am I going?" and then thought I could walk into traffic and kill myself. Miss B, a close family friend was there, so she drove up and took me to her place.

[About seven months ago, I spoke with Miss and now Mrs. B and apparently, she remembers it just slightly differently. She took me home to get things and asked if I could stay with her that night, but they said no because I was being manipulative. Her version is worse than mine, but I don't think I could handle the truth when I originally wrote this in 2005. When she told me, I actually felt sick to my stomach.]

The next day my mother was really angry at me for upsetting my step-father and for leaving (even though he was insisting) and warned me not to get him angry because she thought he might kill me one day. [From a very young age, I grew up with the knowledge that he was capable of killing me and that my mother would do nothing to stop it because it would be my fault. I would have caused it. Implict in this statement is that he could kill her. I'm writing this and thinking, no wonder I'm so hypervigilant. I do wonder if that will ever go away.]

I felt so bad...and like I couldn't do anything right. It was like I knew better than to argue with him. Somehow, I don't think it mattered much. I was going to get yelled at for some reason no matter what. Which would always anger my mother. So, if she was angry with him or he was angry with me...either way it was my fault and I got in trouble and usually slapped or hit.

I feel so much like I need to talk about these memories. But, I've talked about all of these before. [This was not true. I had never talked about them with any feeling associated with them, let alone feeling them at the time and there was more details. And, I'm learning that it doesn't matter how many times I talk about something. I will talk about something until I no longer need to. My therapist says, I'm not there to entertain him. Also, that I add a little more detail or have more feeling or something else about the incident gets integrated.] My stomach and chest hurt so much right now.

I really just want to die and want to really injure myself and want to bruise. Maybe, purchase the alcohol and not tell you. I'm trying really hard to keep my promises. I'm feeling really overwhelmed and really feel like I need to talk, but there is so much.

The telephone calls, voice notes, voice mail messages, notes, and the pillow have been helpful. And, making the promises. But, I'm having a really difficult time and thinking of lying to you. I hope you know that I will not lie to you. I just want so much to hurt myself and the suicidal thoughts are really loud. Feeling a bit crazy right now. Like I don't have any control over my thoughts, feelings, or what sensations my body remembers. I just feel so awful.

Observations: None really. Just what I've already written in purple and what I wrote yesterday. I will say that my symptoms are likely to increase once this is posted because I still feel ashamed, like it is no big deal, I am too sensitive and I should not have told.

Past Journal Entry ~ July 9/10, 2005 Part I

Geoffrey,

Everything feels really crazy with the flashbacks. Sometimes, it is just the feelings and/or thoughts. Other times, it is reliving an actual event with all the feelings and thoughts. Or just generally feeling how I felt all the time just being at home. When I close my eyes, I feel like it just takes me back to a situation.

I'm really wanting to die and hurt myself. And, trying really hard to keep my promises. This is how I felt, so much of the time, so with the flashbacks it is making it so much more difficult.

I remember wanting to die, feeling so hopeless, being terrified of getting hit...never really thought, I was so scared. My stomach is hurting and I'm going numb. Same way as I felt then.

Hearing my step-father and mother fighting about finances and him finding a job. I was standing on a chair in my room dusting my bookcase and my mom came in and slapped me in the face, knocking me off the chair. Then, she just walked out of my room. No words, nothing else. I just got up, up righted the chair and continued dusting like nothing happened...didn't tear up, cry or say anything.

Remember telling my mother when she and my step-father came home one night how much I enjoyed the Happy Days episode and that I even laughed out loud. She yelled at me and slapped me and told me that I shouldn't have made so much noise. After she was done yelling, I just got up and went to bed. Apparently, they were angry with each other, which I neglected to check out before I spoke with her. I guess, I was too excited to tell her about the show, I forgot to gauge things. I felt bad for getting excited.

I was so scared all the time and hated it when my step-father wasn't working and stayed with me during the summer. Usually, we would end up at his parents house. [At this point in time, I had no memories of the sexual abuse or the cult activity, so I didn't understand why my reactions was as intense as it was.] I used to feel sick to my stomach on the days he was home. Remember, wanting to die rather than getting out of bed and face the day with him and his parents. I just want to cry right now. I wanted him to work and for my mother to stay home. Even though, I was scared of her. I used to feel the same tension as it approached the time for her to return from work. Wasn't sure if she would be angry or not.

I'm feeling really suicidal right now and really wanting to hurt myself. I really, really, really want to bruise. [All of the incident written above occurred when I was in elementary school.]

When we moved out of the apartment, my mother's temper got worse as did the arguments and fights. Sometimes, she would slap me or slug me in the back for talking back, or for arguing with him. Or sometimes, if they were arguing even if I wasn't doing anything, in the same room or saying anything.

Entry...to be continued tomorrow

Observations: I am quite surprised at how this almost sounds like I could be writing it today. As I look in my journals, the hypervigilance, flashbacks, being on edge, being anxious, feeling hopeless, wanting to die and self-injury go on and on and on and on. It has been a constant battle in my head since January 2003. No wonder, I go through periods where I am just tired or want to cry. The sad part about it is that this is how I felt all the time growing up.

It is like I'm just trying to tell myself and when I feel heard enough by others and especially myself, I think, I'll feel better. This would be called integration which I am trying to do, but it is really painful.

During this phase in therapy, I think my defenses are up because I am beginning to remember how it really was growing up and that my mother had a lot more to do with abusing me then I want to know.

I just started to talk about her slapping me. She actually knocked the wind out of me. Also, with the Happy Days thing, I further withdrew into not telling her anything. I couldn't even share a happy experience with her and get an appropriate response consistently. It even happens now. The way my therapist puts it is that my mother usually either ignores me, aggresses against me or need me to be her ego. This is how she was with me growing up and how she is now.

"America" ~ Chris Tomlin ~ Worship in Song!

I promise this is the last patriotic moment for this season. I often complain about what is wrong with this Nation, but this year I am very thankful that I am an American. We have so much. Yet, we have so little. My prayer for this Nation is spoken in the song.

The whole founded on Christian values and prayer. I pray for the Nation to return to those roots without returning to the need for civil rights to even be a phrase. Jesus was accepting and loving to all and was not condemning. Enjoy the patriotic worship song which could be sung with other nations inserted instead.



America

Let your glory fly
If my people will humbly pray
Turn from sin and their wicked ways
I will hear them and heal their land
And show my glory and power again
Lift your eyes up
Look to the sky

The Lord is coming, coming to America
Can you feel the fire
Can you see the wind
Blowing through
Coming to America again
Go and tell them the blind will see
The lame will walk and the slave is free
Shout the news that the lost are saved
In the name of Jesus the dead are raised

I Made it Through the 4th of July!!!

If you have been following my blog you will know that I am having a difficult time right now and it still continues. Thursday, session was difficult as I talked about "just being tired and being angry that I have to go through therapy, am unable to work, increased medications, etc..." And, I used four tissues. I cried a little. Also, he kept bring it back to it being about my mother's failures (he used a stronger term, but I'm buzzy writing this) and that I am really angry at her. I left feeling angry and like sobbing.

All this time, since last week, I've been having horrible flashbacks of being alone with my step-father in our apartment. My therapist and I talked about it on Friday. Yes, he saw me on Independence Day. I was really glad. I was able to talk about a third of the memories, but felt the terror (I can't find a stronger word), how often he actually threaten to kill me, how the sexual abuse began, how young and immature he was, that I never felt like there was a place to hide, felt trapped all the time and was forcibly made to eat things that I did not like. With all of this, I am extra hypervigilant. My therapist and I laughed at that because my baseline is really hypervigilant. I hate this PTSD. (I am one of Bradley's prairie dogs) Filled with terror, sadness, homicidal rage, abandonment, betrayal and more. It was intense, but good. He says, that I am making good progress and seems to really feel for how difficult this is and how painful.

We also talked about how the summer gets worse for me and the things that are connected to summer including the heat, being with my step-father all day or his parents, my birthday and the pattern of my becoming more symptomatic. Both of my hospitalizations were in the summer and although I don't want to go that route, if I need to I will. But, I don't think that I need to except for sometimes that safe environment sounds good. And, I've been feeling really hopeless.I hope the increase of my Effexor XR is helpful. I'm still waking up with the thought of I want to or I need to die. We are also connecting my current feeling with that being the way I felt growing up. *Sigh*

I had a really happy thing happen too on Friday. One of my blog buddies called and we spoke for almost two hours. I don't recall doing that since I was a teen well maybe a 20-something. Well, it has been over 20 years except for a few times with my therapist, but he doesn't count. I had a great time talking to this person and it was helpful to talk serious and laugh instead of emailing or posting comments. Immediate feedback!! I really had a good time. I just found out that we have unlimited long distance calling, so I can call this person too.

I didn't do anything else on that day except for try to figure out EntreCard and relaxed. However, the PTSD kicked in really badly in the evening with the fireworks, but my husband just laid by my side and stroked my hair as I curled up next to him...very nice and comforting...good trick to cuddle, huh? I hope you had a good one.