I don’t know if it’s from turning fifty or that this pandemic has caused financial strain and anxiety in my life.
The one thing I can be sure of is that my husband has probably thought about divorcing me. I would if I were him.
Just when my moods couldn’t get any worse, my husband dropped a tree on my truck. At the time I was nice and sweet. But as the days go on, knowing fixing it isn’t in the budget and selling it would be stupid when we just paid a ton of money fixing it my mood flares about it.
I’m sure taking my inhaler is aggravating my mood some. I just can’t seem to breathe. There are a few people I’ve been avoiding because of my racing thoughts about how they have wronged me recently. Not that they have, I just perceive that they have.
I just feel like a bomb waiting to go off. And like a failure at everything I do. I prayed when I turned fifty that I wouldn’t get all off the charts with my moods like my sister did. At this rate my moods may top hers.
Please pray for me to gain peace over whatever is going on in my head.
When I started this journey into blogging I stated I would mention the good the bad and the ugly. I didn’t just mean everyone else behavior. After all I do have bipolar and borderline personality disorder. I don’t have the behaviors near as often anymore. occasionally they do sneak out.
FYI this was many years ago. I was in a manic phase after divorcing the children’s dad. We moved to the husbands home town when the kids were very young. My husband had an old high school buddy that would come over and the minute he’d get to the door my husband would make me go hide ion the other room so that his friend couldn’t see that I was a larger woman. His exact words, “I don’t want him to see you are fat because he can get any woman he wants.”.
After years of verbal abuse about my size and illnesses we finally divorced. which led to lots of behaviors out of character for me. This is just one of the stories.
I’d been hitting the local bar on the weekend, on the prowl. one night a guy at the bar said, “Aren’t you a cutie, what’s your name?’. When I responded with my name, he asked if I was related to the ex. when I told him I was married too him for some time. he told me they use to be friends, I asked his name. Once he told me, i didn’t even think twice about my next step. He was going to be my puppet. It was the guy I was hid from him because of my size, and he loved my size.
I had him around the house a few times, just enough for the boys to see and tell their father. the father did ask me about being friends with his old school mate and all I could say is, “we aren’t friends just screw buddies.” My point is, I don’t really have a point I guess. Nothing like the fury of a woman scorned.
I like to think that I have matured by leaps and bounds since then. It wasn’t all that bad. He enjoyed giving massages and wine and the sex wasn’t that bad either.
P.S. Okay I may still be a little bit of a mess. But I am a beautiful one!
That saying is complete bull! Fear is a natural reaction to certain situations. Everyone was created different, so their reactions to things will be different.
I have an absolute fear of snakes, my niece adores them. Does that mean she has faith and I do not. NO. We just fear different things and that is okay.
One of my biggest fears is riding in a car that gets to close to the shoulder. I’m going to tell you how this fear became a part of who I am. It was not bred into me. Trauma or torcher depending on how you look at it, created it in me.
Husband number three was so nice and sweet, and a hard worker to boot. Things changed quickly after we married. I had married a controlling monster. He controlled me in many ways, but this one stuck.
On the way to Sunday morning service, which was quite a drive he got to close to the shoulder, when he saw me flinch his exact words were, “where there is fear there is no faith”. Until I acted not afraid he continued to drive like that. From that day on it was one of his games with me.
One day our vehicle broke down in traffic. I began crying, he sat there and refused to fix it until I quit crying. One of the last times I road with him he had set cruise control at 45mph on the interstate. I asked if he was trying to get us killed. He reset the cruise for 35mph.
I did eventually divorce him. The fear he caused in me followed me to the wonderful husband I have now. In the beginning when he’d see me cringe while he was driving he’d get defensive. Four years later he asks me if I’m okay. And tries to stay away from the shoulder as much as possible.
All of the little imperfections or glitches in us make us unique. Just have faith and never let your fears consume you!
My sister has always said this big eyes photo reminds her of us as children living in the basement. Except her pet was stuffed.
After my mother and father divorced our mother married a Yellow Freight driver that she had met while waiting tables in a truck stop. He was quite a bit older than her. All of his kids were grown and gone but one. My mother brought all five of us with her.
Unfortunately our mother was the only one of us allowed upstairs in the home with the exception of a bath or dinner. And lord forbid we didn’t chew our food slow enough or rested our arms on the table.
Being the devout christian that my eldest brother was, he found himself preaching in the smoking lounges. Which led to people at school hanging him by his cowboy boots over banisters. He eventually went to live with our father and his new wife, that didn’t last long. A couple from church took him in.
The step brother living at home didn’t get along with one of my brothers. Even concrete walls couldn’t keep them from fighting. We had no windows, that I can remember anyway. My sister and I spent so much time down there that one time we crocheted with our fingers a rope that reached a mile. Asking to go out to play in the winter wasn’t a good idea. When a parent tells you if you go out you are staying out, a child doesn’t understand the consequences. It was freaking cold. All I know is we wanted to build a snowman.
I don’t think that my sister and I handled the dark confinement of the basement well. We were not locked in, but knew there were consequences if we didn’t have permission. We did have tv and clean beds. It wasn’t horrible, just depressing. Thank heavens mother loved us more. She divorced him a year to the day of their marriage. We moved and all of us were together again. I loved singing with My eldest brother his praise and worship. I was happy he was back with us. We had a great summer. Fishing and playing and being kids. But those basement walls are forever etched in our memory. My mom finally found us a home, no more rentals. Which ended up being “The little house of horrors”. My mother was a wonderful mother. She wasn’t home a ton. She was working multiple jobs. When the parents are away the children will play.!
I do believe that a majority of my junk was inherited.. And that life traumas made the diseases progress.
After my parents divorced as a young child I begin stuttering and talking too fast. No amount of speech therapy fixed it. I still do it in anxious situations.
It is amazing how dysfunctional your childhood is, but you don’t realize it until adulthood.
I have a brother that became fanatically religious when I was a child. He and the other brother were in charge of taking care of my younger sister and I while our mother work to support us. NEVER do this people. NOT a good idea.
The religious brother was only trying to do what he saw in God’s eyes was right. But being locked in the closet until you memorize 25 Bible verses was quite ridiculous. He later in his early 20s was diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic. And he is a very kind and loving soul.
The other brother on the other hand was the complete opposite. I remember a time my eldest brother stomped the others stereo because of the devil music he was playing and chased him through the house to lay hands on him to cast the demons out of him. Finally, The younger brother pretended to be possessed and scared the other terribly. Yep, us girls did not have a fighting chance.
So, eventually the younger of the two boys decided it would be a good idea to practice on his sisters for a girl he was wanting to have sex with. 40 years later I can hear those words like it was yesterday. Every word, every demand, every threat. Until a few years ago I had no idea he practiced differently with my sister.
We never talked about it. my friend in the fifth grade was the only one I ever told. Years went by and coincidentally her daughter and my brothers stepdaughter became friends. Which they thought was leading to a sleepover. NOT. My friend from grade school told her daughter. My brother and I finally talked about it. He has absolutely no recollection whatsoever. It always made me feel better to make an excuse like, “It was drugs or alcohol that made him do it”. Then he informed me he didn’t do drugs didn’t tell me he was sorry he just doesn’t remember. I Do! Every single day of my grown-up life I can picture it like it was yesterday.
I am grateful for the few followers I have. But it’s nice to have a place to vent about this baggage I’ve been caring around for years. And this is just a few of the screwed up things that happened to me as a child. Just wait until I get to the adult stories!
I put together a puzzle today. It seems to help when I’m struggling mentally. My problem is that my Lithium and Wellbutrin slow me down. Sometimes life gets so busy I can’t keep up, then I intentionally stop my psychiatric medications so I can not be so run down. Then first two weeks are great, then slowly I start getting nervous in cars as passenger. Next I begin thinking everything everyone says to me is meant as sarcasm. Finally the people around catch my wrath.
Most the time I’m considered a very sweet lady. But only my loved ones get to see the nasty side of me. That’s a lie. Over the years I’m sure there were a few customers I let have it.
The day ended great. My granddaughter Anaya stayed over. And I’m keeping her up past her bedtime.
Hopefully tomorrow I have a bit more energy. A little bit today I had to force myself to move.
My sister and I both suffer from bpd and bipolar. Anxiety , depression and whatever else you want to throw in there. For several years now I’ve had to be stronger for her. Handle her with kid gloves you might say. We both have suicidal tendencies. I have attempted twice.
She is my best friend in the whole world. I’ve had a few bad days this week. So she was pointing out to me my bad behavior and my words were,”You have got to be fucking kidding me, you can go 8 months in a row all fucked up and no one says a word because you might go kill yourself and I have a bad two days and you are on me like a fly on shit.”.
And thank God the camera was off at the shop so she couldn’t replay every word I said over and over, she would have killed herself. Was what I said true? Yes! Did I know it would hurt her? Yes! Do I love her? Yes!
I hate these fucking diseases. I told myself over and over in my head to not say anything, there was no stopping me. I was hurting so I wanted to hurt her. She had been doing better, I’m afraid that this might make her progress go backwards. She will play what I said in her head until it makes her feel like a waste of space or a complete failure. How do I know this? We have the same disease. I would do the same thing. All I know is my sister and I have not been over 5 miles away from each other our entire lives. We survived some terrible experiences as children together. We even get sick when either of us goes on trips away from the other. What the hell is wrong with me?