Nobody should be shamed for the state of mind they find themselves in and NOBODY should ever be ridiculed because of their mental health.
I have struggled with depression, anxiety, PTSD my whole life. Certain events and circumstances trigger it and other times it is just chalked up to having a bad day. Just because I cry doesn’t make me a bad mom. It usually takes me a day or so to bounce back. I am still attentive to the needs of my child though and I resent anybody else out there who is trying to dispute that fact.
Imagine getting smashed in the head not once but twice in the wee hours in the morning to get woken up. It is common knowledge that I am incapable of just marching out of bed as for months now I have been suffocating in my sleep. Factor in that my eyesight is not the greatest. How on Earth could I ever switch the channel for us to find something to watch. Terrified I buried my head into the pillow and covered myself with blankets to which he stood over top of me and whisked them all away. Never mind the chunk of hair he had taken with the blanket but he still had it in him to become even more unglued.
What I hate most about living here is EVERY single weakness, secret and what not that is exposed here it will be used against me and to his advantage. His favourite argument is how I have ZERO relationship with anybody in my family. Imagine that rebuttal at 3 am in the morning. Yes I don’t talk to my sisters. Yes I don’t talk to my Dad but this is what happens to you when you are raped inside the house in which you were raised.
At 19 when I was trying to find a way to live after losing a child. I didn’t LOSE a child, I did so voluntarily, well my Dad made me citing that I was unable to make that decision at 13. It was still my body and she was a piece of my soul. How can I forgive a man who can speak so ill about me after all these years. Yes I drank to oblivion but do you get that I was RAPED!!! 30 years has passed since that event has happened and I can still see his evil, smiling face. Looking down at me having his way. What do you want me to say about that?
I feel so much sorrow because of that day. My Dad and his new wife through me away. I was trash in their eyes and my sisters felt more of the same. My sister told me I was no longer welcome around her family now that I was taking Paxil. She believed that it proved that I was mentally unstable and incapable of being a good person so what was I supposed to do? So I cut her off and left.
Same with Dad. He couldn’t comprehend that the person I was now was a byproduct of the decision that he made for me. That I could no longer live up to his unrealistic demands. I went to school, twice, and got one Degree and a License to work overseas but somehow is new, uneducated family was more important than me.
They used to look down at us for the decisions we made. The decisions that were necessary so that we could live happy and somehow survive. It makes me laugh that his new step daughter is a server in a local strip club…she was never good enough to take up on that stage. I laugh because of the pain. It hurts thinking about the life I envisioned as a child. I never thought that in my years I would be estranged from my sisters and my Dad but here I am after all these years.
Does that make me bad? Should I be ridiculed for that fact relentlessly to prove a point? I live sheltered because when given the chance people are more prone to being awful and I could no longer tolerate that kind of emotional turmoil and abuse.
Why do I owe anybody anything after all these things that have happened to me. I can’t believe I survived through some of the worst hell ever and I did it flying solo even then. I never wanted just anybody around me. I wanted somebody who was loyal and could tell the truth. What I ended up was an emotional nightmare that will end up killing me slowly and painfully till I can no longer see or hear.
Every day is a new barrage of insults that I have to find a way to withstand. All I am doing is my best and I will keep trying. I am done believing the lies he keeps telling about me to himself. I am not a monster for waiting to get to things as I attend to my son the most important being in my Earth. If he is broken then why can’t I fix him? I acknowledge the hand I played that might have been detrimental to our mental health.
Nothing came easy. We died there in childbirth. You didn’t have to save any of us if all you were going to do was yell at us and hide. What happened next kept eroding at my psyche. Including the time you left me to go and work in Lethbridge with a newborn baby and a dying cat. On top of everything else that I had on the go I had to prolong his suffering instead of ending his life. The pain that I saw in eyes every time I entered the room still sits with me. Burned into my soul like a road map that I will return to again one day.
I never claimed to be easy, in fact I am sure I never made an accusation as such. I am sure I opened with I come with a lot of baggage the kind and likes the most of the world would never understand. Being open and upfront with my mental illness I thought I was investing in somebody more kind. What I ended up with in the end is somebody who was content on pushing me over the edge and who is always hoping that I am one step away from losing my mind.