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Same Thoughts Different Reactions

My mind is like a carnival ride

About this time last year I posted a very emotional and hysterical post about all the scary things taking place in the world. And at a later date after watching it again, I removed it.

I was embarassed by my tears and emotional video. What a difference a year makes. A year of the right phsychiatric meds. Today I feel all the things I did the day I recorded the video. My reaction to those thought is 100% different.

When I started this venture I promised I would post the good and the ugly. I wasn’t true to my word by deleting it. In the future I will do better at being honest and open about my behaviors. I hope that one day even just one of my post helps you in this very exhausting struggle to pretend to be normal.

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Searching For A Better Version Of Me

These seven photos pretty much represent times in my life when I have experienced life altering experiences.

Ultimately, when I was 6 my father and mother divorced. I cried that I missed him, and mother sent me to live with him. Two weeks later she showed up at school to take me back home. But the divorce had taken it’s toll on me. I began talking fast and tripping over my words. The school entered me in speech therapy, it never stuck. I still talk to much and to fast. You know my mom sent me back and forth to my father’s my entire childhood. I wasn’t that bad. Just a teenage girl in love.

Secondly, at the age of 8 my mother had remarried and moved us away from our father, we didn’t see him much. On one visit he showed up with a new wife. As a kid I felt like he traded me in for someone new. It was a rough start, it had to be hard for an 18 year old girl to take on a man with 5 children. As time went by we had more visits, and my stepmother was amazing. Life moved on.

Third, I think might be a huge part of my BPD. At 10 a family member called me into the bathroom and made me bend over the tub and pull down my pants. I fought him. He told me as he tried to force himself into me, “Hold still I am practicing for Shelia.”. He never got it in but slapped me with it until he did his thing. I can picture it like it happened yesterday. My sister told mom he was touching us, she assumed a belt or whippings. Of Course, he remembers nothing.

Fourth, I was fifteen closer to sixteen. I had the biggest crush on a boy and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I was super excited. We went out one evening and I tried pot for the first time. I’d do anything for him. We went to his house to his bedroom. that is where it happened. I lost my virginity. He had asked me if I was a virgin and I told him no. I thought because my brother had touched me with his thing I had lost it. I was such a stupid girl. We left his room and heading to the door this huge pregnant girl grabbed me by the hair and called me a bitch and informed me she was carrying his baby. They were to be married in a week. I had never been so sick in my whole life. Eventually they divorced and on a few drunken occasions we may have had a one night stand.

Fifth, at 17 I was at he park and met the nicest boy, we dated for quite some time. His family moved to Washington state and I had never felt so alone. Eventually I moved to be with him. I did get homesick so I left. It didn’t mean I didn’t love him. when I was nineteen my friend talked me into going back, my love had broke up with his girlfriend and wanted me back. By the time I got there his ex girlfriend was pregnant and he was with her. She saw me as a threat. I would have never stepped into that. But he found a need to call and tell me to go home it was never anything other than sex. Until this day I can hear his words, like I could my brothers.

Sixth, all I can say is I was verbally abused by my husband for many years. I cant wear pink because something he said. He was so hateful about my size. He’d ask my are you really going to eat that, you just ate. I began eating meals at McDonald’s before i came home and ate. That way I wouldn’t get in trouble for seconds. All that did is hurt me. and he was still mean. It took me 13 years to leave. so I hear 13 years of bull crap in my head on a daily basis. I agreed to joint custody I had no idea the pain it would feel over my son being gone two weeks at a time. I am sure it was painful for everyone involved. But not all of us slit our wrists. I wanted my pain to end.

Seventh, Another marriage destined to fail. He was Mormon and very controlling. I lost my adult children and my grandchildren. He seriously thought he was in the right. He was always trying to save me from the filth that is my family. Knocked me out, stole my dog and my car. It took me eight years to get away. He was scary and unpredictable.

There were lots of little and medium traumas these are just the bigger ones.

Lastly, My current husband and I have been friend for twenty years and married five of those. I have always trusted him. He knows everything about me secrets and all. I thought it was the same with him. I found out that he’d been paying his ex wife for the past 24 years for sex. explains why ours was so infrequent. I stayed and worked through it but hid excuse was my size, 225. The new medicine I am on I am worried will cause weight gain and I mentioned that I was afraid he would cheat because of it. I said unless your preferences have changed. He said as a matter of fact they have. Three weeks ago I caught him on a dating site. At this point I stated one more time and I am done and this time as your wife I am taking half your stuff. It’s pretty sad when you have to threaten your husband. It is not anything wrong in me causing his unfaithfulness it is him.

I guess what I am wondering is if all I have known from a very young age is chaos, abuse and pain how do I get to normal if I have never seen it or lived it?

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Life Is Good…When I Want It To Be

The alarm goes off, I spring into action. Shower, brush my teeth, do my hair and makeup and tend to the pets. Wake up honey lets go have coffee I tell my husband.

Can we go see the grandkids today? I ask. Do you want to visit the cabin? It is so nice this time of year. I’m having a good day.

Alarm goes off. I say,”Will you shut that fucking thing off.”. My husband asks, ” Want to go have coffee? “. No. I just want to sleep. I do have things to do today. I want nothing to do with any of it. I am absolutely exhausted. No desire to even get out of bed, and definitely not going in public today. It takes to much energy to pretend to be normal, and I am just not feeling up to it today. These are the days I am most use to. And to tell you the truth I enjoy my days of sollitude as compared to the days I am forced to socialize.

I give 100% when it comes to being a mother and grandmother. I put myself in uncomfortable situations all the time when tending to my loved ones. It really takes a toll on my mental illness at times. It is truly exhausting attempting to be the perfect grandparent and parent, I never fail them. In the process I become manic trying to keep up. Everything that goes up eventually must come down. Eventually, I plummit to the ground. You would think after all these years with these mental illnesses I would be expecting it, NOPE. As always the illness sneaks up and bites me right in the butt.

I start all over again taking extra care to take medications and get the rest I so desperately need. It last a week maybe two and the vicious cycle starts all over again.

Today….It was a good day. Tomorrow……We will see.

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Confessions Of A Disoriented Blogger #2

I always have felt lost. Everything has to change all the time. That’s the BPD a subject for a different day. I suffered depression for many years. But then when I entered into a very abusive relationship, I couldn’t do anything right. I was never the same. I was to fat, dinner didn’t taste good. you name it, I wasn’t good at it.

After some time I started having thoughts of running my truck into semi’s or cliffs. That went on for years. I divorced him after 14 years of abuse. What I wasn’t prepared for was grieving him like I had buried him like he had died. Plus I gave up my son 50% of the time. Eventually, all I could think about is how I was going to do it. I had to wait until the boys were gone. And the minute they were I was in such a hurry I left the car door wide open, door to the house and the knife drawer with knifes scattered everywhere.

I did it, I slit my wrist. Fortunately, I just did a bunch of surface wounds because there wasn’t a sharp knife in the house. I wasn’t allowed knives in the house for years. I struggled for several years with several mood disorders, and was being abused again. I was married to a monster. And until I got rid of him I had no family, and the grandchild I was about to have was not allowed to be a part of my life. He was dangerous. I felt trapped. If I left I had to fear his wrath. I was going to do it the easy way. I took a handful of pills. They made me sick but I am still here.

I still from time to time get thoughts of self harm, Usually after feeling I’ve let my loved ones down. I have a lot to live for, with mental illness we become blinded at times.