Life Story Part #01

Well,here is my first blog post ever. I have a lot to say but not sure where to begin. So, excuse me for being random or hopping from topic to topic and back again. I’m almost 35 and was diagnosed 2 years ago with being bipolar, severe anxiety disorder, major depressive disorder,ADHD, and PTSD. From then to now I have been hospitalized 4 times. (once for a suicide attempt, which I believe was brought on by my father) I also have a 15 yr old son that was diagnosed at the age of 4 with bipolar, ADD, and ODD. He was also hospitalized at that time and 4 times since. He has been in an intensive treatment facility twice and numerous times in front of a judge. Then there is my oldest son which is 17. Straight A student and always on the go with little sleep. I see alot of myself in him when I was his age. (a functioning bipolar/adhd) And then there is my husband of almost 13 years who has put up with all this and still loves us unconditionally.

When I look back on my life I can see the mania, depression, and adhd that was going on. I learned to be a great pretender though. I was a people pleaser and kept my emotions to myself. I grew up with addiction (my father is a gambling addict), verbal abuse, physical abuse from both parents and was sexually abused by my step brother for many years. I was never good enough, pretty enough, and never could do anything right. I was made to feel guilty and responsible for everything that happened. Like when I was 13 we were in Atlantic City. We spent 3 months there. I was forced to share a room with my step brother. All 4 of us were in a resteraunt and a waitress walked by. My father looked at her and said “Hey, you look like her except you have no chest, your nose is bigger, and you have big feet. (I’m 5ft9 and wear a size 9 shoe) After my father lost all of the money we had we didn’t even have enough money for gas to get back to Virginia. But it was my fault. He said he hated me, wished he never adopted me, and to find my own way home.(atleast he didn’t hit me this time) I have been asked why I never said anything about the sexual abuse I went through. WELL, when everything is your fault or if something happened to me I must of brought it on myself who do you tell? When I was 14 I went from a straight A student to skipping school. If I did well it was expected of me (no praise) but when I messed then up look out. I skipped 45 days straight. My parents were so self absorbed they never noticed. They found out when a truancey officer showed up at the house and told them. I was beaten pretty bad, bruises all over. My father took me by the hair and slammed me repeatedly up against a chair and hit me for what seemed like forever. ( he didn’t do this because he was upset over the skipping school but because it made him look bad since he never noticed) I ran away the next night with my now exboyfriend) The police found me a week later and I had to spend a week in Juvinile. My father came to see me once just to tell me that my mother was so upset and couldn’t stop crying since I left. Yeah, right! When I was brought home I went upstairs to go to my room and all of my stuff was gone. The bitch turned my room into a guest room. She threw my things away and bought new bedding with matching curtains in case they had over night guests. She really missed me. (rolling of eyes) When you are to blame, responsible for everyone’s happiness or there lack of, or you got what you deserved, you learn to suck it up, push down the feelings, and try to keep going. All the while I would go through major depression or times of great energy with sleepless nights, my mind and my thoughts floating around my head like Nascar on speed. When I was 17 my father said “if you don’t like it here then move” I took him up on that and I got a friend of mine and a truck and moved out showing up on my ex’s doorstep.

A month later I found out I was pregnant with my first child. A month later I found out my ex had become addicted to crack. Great, another addiction. With my past of a codependent life, I found myself making excuses and thinking I could “fix” him. Of course with this addiction came the verbal and physical abuse. It started with him yelling at me for paying bills and pushing and then progressed from there. At 7 months pregnant I walked out of work to find my car being repoed. He hadn’t made a car pymnt in 4 months. Now as big as a house I walked a mile to the bus stop and then another mile from the other stop to my job. I worked with an old man who felt pity on me and would drive me to the bus stop if it was raining if our schedules matched. We were evicted a month after giving birth and had to move in with my parents. (oh joy, now I’m getting it from all angles) My father had a lot of legal problems over the years and screw ups from his gambeling so he helped with my feelings of guilt and making excuses for my ex. We finally moved into an apartment and I became pregnant with child #2. Now I have 2 kids, no car, no phone, no one to talk to, and usually only money for formula. I went hungry alot so my kids could eat. My ex would leave us for days at a time on crack binges promising every time that it was his last. One day about 3 or 4 in the afternoon while it was snowing hard, alone with 2 small children, there was a knock on the door. It was the sheriff to evict us. Luckily he felt pity on us and gave me an extra week. (by the way, while living here my ex was busted during a raid. They dropped the charges in exchange for his testimony against his dealer who was also a gun runner and witnesses had a habit of disappearing. One night around midnight there was a knock on the door. I looked through the peep hole and couldn’t move or breath. there were 2 guys standing on the other side with guns drawn. lucky for us there were cops watching over us for our protection and the 2 men left but were never caught.) My ex had another dealer who was renting a trailer so we moved in there. Same shit different address except I finally got a cheap car and got a job. My ex was very controlling and it was a battle to get him to just let me work. 5 min. late and he was throwing a fit accusing me of an affair. He used to sit in a van across the street from where I worked getting high on crack and watching to see if I left with anybody. Finally I left him and security at work was on high alert to not allow him in. I received a call from my neighbor in the trailer park and was advised that the cops were looking for him. He went to a womans trailer 2 doors down. I was never told the whole truth but it was a drug deal gone wrong and he held her against her will by knife. He was then a couple of hours later seen walking up and down the street mumbling holding the knife. He got 20 years probation and time served. This was one of 3 times that I know of that he had a run in with the law.

Now I am back at my parents with nowhere else to go. I worked 2 jobs, paid for my own food, and paid rent to my parents that were living there for free with government assistance. About a week later I walked into my first and better paying job to find it closed up with chains. No explanation just sorry we are closed now.

Downfall of leaving him, I had nowhere else to go but my parents. So now I’m back in hell, but my kids kept me going. They needed me to be strong so I couldn’t afford to lose it now and beleive me when I say it was harder then you might think.

I’m tired and can not think anymore so I will close for now. Another day another page will come to finish my story.