Today I realized, with surprising pain, that it's been 4 years.
4 years since he kissed me. 4 years since my battle with boys started and the abuse ensued at hands not of my family. 4 years since I realized that G-d wouldn't save me from everything the way I thought He would.
Today, of all days, it hit me with the force that it had when it first happened. It hit me like a head-on collision with a train. Like one thousand anvils crushing me from all directions. Like the weight of the world is sitting on my rib cage, keeping me from taking any more breaths, yet I am forced to keep going. Forced to keep breathing, and living, and surviving. Forced to continue on in this world when nobody cares. Nobody gives a flying f#ck if I were to wake up each day.
Still, I wake up. Day after day I show up to younglife, to work, to bible study, and to my other obligations. I show up for people who don't care. People who wouldn't notice if I were never to show up again. I show up for people who have hundreds of other people that they could lean on, should lean on, because it's an inconvenience for them to meet with me. I'm a hassle, an inconvenience, and a thorn.
4 years ago, my world was shattered. It began a path of my delusions being stripped away, my hope in a better life being crushed, and my desire for a husband and a family began to fade. Slowly, these hopes and dreams became painful wounds, scars to be reopened hundreds of times since. I discovered that I don't matter. My boundaries, my voice, my wants, and my "no" doesn't matter. I realized that my feeble support system was incapable of seeing me through the realness of life.
It came to my attention that life isn't a love story, it's not some great romance. Life, maybe not yours but mine, is not some fairy tale. My life is simply something to be survived. There is no knight in shining armor. G-d won't protect me from the evil in this world. I can't find happiness, despite trying everything everyone and my counselor has suggested. My life isn't supposed to be one of the top 5, I'm not supposed to be important, and my deepest desires to know people and to be known, won't be realized.
Happy endings are for other people. Love is for other people. Miracles that show them day after day that G-d saves them, is for other people. My life is about the realization that tragedies lie around every corner. That loneliness won't kill you with any type of speed, and that major depression is a lifelong fight that nobody will show up to help you defeat. My life is about showing grace and forgiveness to others, but being constantly beat down. My life is about learning to deal with disappointments so much that you stop hoping. I'm a top student in the university of being there for others who have no qualms with pushing me aside. I am a master at being invisible, learning to deal with lives crushing blows alone, and surviving years alone.
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Thursday, February 14, 2019
Friday, February 1, 2019
Suicide
Yesterday, I mourned the loss of a 19 year old young man. I didn't personally know the guy, but my YoungLife students had had classes with him. They were friends with him.
The devastation in their eyes was heart wrenching, because I've been there.
I sat there, listening to them try to process the heaviness of losing such a young friend. I listened to the stories, and the questions, and the tears. My heart broke listening to his younger sister's recounting of his last day as he tried to spend some time with his sister before he left. I listened to the ways he quietly, silently, said his goodbyes. His sister said he made his bed. He never made his bed, but he made it before he went on his last late night drive.
I called my mom as I headed over to the crisis hangout after getting the news. One of my students requested we have a time to be able to facilitate them being together to process, cry, or just be with each other through their hurting. She asked me if I was okay. At the time, I was like, "of course I'm fine, I'm worried about my kids!" Then she asked if I was being triggered and she told me o be careful driving, especially with all of this going through my bead during my hour drive to the meet-up. (The hour drive is because I'm temporarily required to be out of my roommate's house due to construction, so I'm staying with my dad.) I told her that I would be careful and that I was feeling okay. She told me to call if I needed anything.
At first, hanging up, I was touched, but a little confused. Why was she so concerned about my triggers? We haven't talked much about this. She knows how hard it was when Country Boy died, because she received my millions of phone calls as I tried to process his suicide. However, she normally doesn't seem to acknowledge my traumas, and she doesn't really use the lingo. As I continued to drive, and process (because driving is a time brains commonly use to process due to the eye movements), I began to cry. I had memories, flashbacks, and tears my whole drive. I was glad for the time in my car to be able to sit with memories and feelings. I had time to sing worship songs and pray. The tears could come and I could prepare.
My heart hurts.
While talking to these sweet students, I learned that it was the 5th suicide of a friend for some of them and the 10th suicide for others. A 14 year-old lost her brother. A mom and dad lost their only son. A cop witnessed someone take their own life as he turned to get his business card.
This young man experienced such immense hurting and darkness in his life that he felt he had no way out.
At the ripe old age of 19. Fresh out of high school and life was imploding for him. His days felt like his life held no hope, no way out of his problems and pain. He felt he had no lifeline.
Yet, his friends and family and even people he doesn't even know are all reeling in his wake.Tears are being poured out for this immense loss. There is a hole in hundreds of people's hearts. There are rippled of effects from the drop in this pool of community. He experienced the loss of a couple of close friends by suicide. No doubt adding to the pain he experienced. But, for him, this seemed to be his only solution.
My heart breaks. My heart breaks for the loss of my friend. The shoulda, coulda, woulda's are still painful for me. Though there is not the same intensity at the sting of the loss of him, there are still moments I think I see him. Or times I believe I see his truck. Memories of him as I drive the roads and see the places I visited with him.
My heart breaks for his family and friends that will now have to try to continue on in life without his presence. They will have to battle with their own regrets and replaying of his final months. They will battle against denial, sadness, guilt, anger, questions, fuzzy memories, and wondering why. Faith will be called into question. The benevolence of G-d will be scrutinized. is parent's marriage will be tested like never before and his sisters will forever grieve with the rest of his family as they meet each milestone along the remainder of their lives.
They will be haunted by his memories, his smell, his room, and his pictures.
I am grieved for them that they are beginning this long and arduous journey. This path that nobody want to travel and nobody can prepare for. You can get help along the way, but ultimately each of his loved ones that he left behind are having to fight through the darkness he left behind.
I can see his side, within reason. And I've been on the grieving end. Even still, it all hurts. No matter what, it sucks. It sucks because a life was taken far too early. A life was lost way before he grew old.
There was a choice to end his suffering, that also ended in suffering.
I don't believe the choice he made was entirely selfish. I don't think he made the choice to be revengeful or to hurt anyone else. I also don't believe this was a choice he made lightly. He tried to ease the minds of those he left behind. No doubt it grieved him, thinking about those that would be hurt by his passing. Chances are, he didn't realize how many would be effected by his choice to leave this world.
My heart hurts for him. My heart hurts for the many, many others that I have grieved for that have died by suicide.
Now, I ask that you join with me to pray for his family and friends. Remember them as you continue on. Remember those you've lost or who have been impacted by the heaviness and pain caused by suicide. Pray for the parents, siblings, and friends of those who have passed on in such a manor. Remember that we all carry pains that nobody else knows about. Please, please, try to use your filter of grace to see these events when you encounter them. Me, of all people (who becomes angry at the need to use my grace goggles sometimes) is pleading with you to consider the pain of those that died.
Also use gentle words when attempting to comfort those left behind. It's okay to say nothing. It's okay to say that you are sorry for their loss. It's okay to tell them that you are hurting for them. Don't tell them suicide is selfish, it's not.
My heart is hurting.
The devastation in their eyes was heart wrenching, because I've been there.
I sat there, listening to them try to process the heaviness of losing such a young friend. I listened to the stories, and the questions, and the tears. My heart broke listening to his younger sister's recounting of his last day as he tried to spend some time with his sister before he left. I listened to the ways he quietly, silently, said his goodbyes. His sister said he made his bed. He never made his bed, but he made it before he went on his last late night drive.
I called my mom as I headed over to the crisis hangout after getting the news. One of my students requested we have a time to be able to facilitate them being together to process, cry, or just be with each other through their hurting. She asked me if I was okay. At the time, I was like, "of course I'm fine, I'm worried about my kids!" Then she asked if I was being triggered and she told me o be careful driving, especially with all of this going through my bead during my hour drive to the meet-up. (The hour drive is because I'm temporarily required to be out of my roommate's house due to construction, so I'm staying with my dad.) I told her that I would be careful and that I was feeling okay. She told me to call if I needed anything.
At first, hanging up, I was touched, but a little confused. Why was she so concerned about my triggers? We haven't talked much about this. She knows how hard it was when Country Boy died, because she received my millions of phone calls as I tried to process his suicide. However, she normally doesn't seem to acknowledge my traumas, and she doesn't really use the lingo. As I continued to drive, and process (because driving is a time brains commonly use to process due to the eye movements), I began to cry. I had memories, flashbacks, and tears my whole drive. I was glad for the time in my car to be able to sit with memories and feelings. I had time to sing worship songs and pray. The tears could come and I could prepare.
My heart hurts.
While talking to these sweet students, I learned that it was the 5th suicide of a friend for some of them and the 10th suicide for others. A 14 year-old lost her brother. A mom and dad lost their only son. A cop witnessed someone take their own life as he turned to get his business card.
This young man experienced such immense hurting and darkness in his life that he felt he had no way out.
At the ripe old age of 19. Fresh out of high school and life was imploding for him. His days felt like his life held no hope, no way out of his problems and pain. He felt he had no lifeline.
Yet, his friends and family and even people he doesn't even know are all reeling in his wake.Tears are being poured out for this immense loss. There is a hole in hundreds of people's hearts. There are rippled of effects from the drop in this pool of community. He experienced the loss of a couple of close friends by suicide. No doubt adding to the pain he experienced. But, for him, this seemed to be his only solution.
My heart breaks. My heart breaks for the loss of my friend. The shoulda, coulda, woulda's are still painful for me. Though there is not the same intensity at the sting of the loss of him, there are still moments I think I see him. Or times I believe I see his truck. Memories of him as I drive the roads and see the places I visited with him.
My heart breaks for his family and friends that will now have to try to continue on in life without his presence. They will have to battle with their own regrets and replaying of his final months. They will battle against denial, sadness, guilt, anger, questions, fuzzy memories, and wondering why. Faith will be called into question. The benevolence of G-d will be scrutinized. is parent's marriage will be tested like never before and his sisters will forever grieve with the rest of his family as they meet each milestone along the remainder of their lives.
They will be haunted by his memories, his smell, his room, and his pictures.
I am grieved for them that they are beginning this long and arduous journey. This path that nobody want to travel and nobody can prepare for. You can get help along the way, but ultimately each of his loved ones that he left behind are having to fight through the darkness he left behind.
I can see his side, within reason. And I've been on the grieving end. Even still, it all hurts. No matter what, it sucks. It sucks because a life was taken far too early. A life was lost way before he grew old.
There was a choice to end his suffering, that also ended in suffering.
I don't believe the choice he made was entirely selfish. I don't think he made the choice to be revengeful or to hurt anyone else. I also don't believe this was a choice he made lightly. He tried to ease the minds of those he left behind. No doubt it grieved him, thinking about those that would be hurt by his passing. Chances are, he didn't realize how many would be effected by his choice to leave this world.
My heart hurts for him. My heart hurts for the many, many others that I have grieved for that have died by suicide.
Now, I ask that you join with me to pray for his family and friends. Remember them as you continue on. Remember those you've lost or who have been impacted by the heaviness and pain caused by suicide. Pray for the parents, siblings, and friends of those who have passed on in such a manor. Remember that we all carry pains that nobody else knows about. Please, please, try to use your filter of grace to see these events when you encounter them. Me, of all people (who becomes angry at the need to use my grace goggles sometimes) is pleading with you to consider the pain of those that died.
Also use gentle words when attempting to comfort those left behind. It's okay to say nothing. It's okay to say that you are sorry for their loss. It's okay to tell them that you are hurting for them. Don't tell them suicide is selfish, it's not.
My heart is hurting.
Sunday, January 27, 2019
Confusion on the Friend Front
It's been several months since I've posted, and it's kind of weird to think about that. Nothing has really been going on though.
Work is work. I battle apathy and terror. Depression and mediocre days war for my attention. My nightmares come back but they're different and beginning to fade. Though I wake up angry many days. My counselor has been on maternity leave since Thanksgiving-ish. I'm still single. YoungLife has become a distant memory and a struggle and a point of hurt, all at the same time. Friends seem to be a thing of the past for me.
I'm anxious in this period of waiting. I'm antsy. I feel something coming, but I don't know what it is.
Still, through all of these things, I hope there is something good coming. The past few months I went from things scheduled every day, being busy with YoungLife, work, counseling, piano lessons, and various other activities down to nothing but work. Spread out days of work, no less. I was supposed to go to a weekend getaway with some friends but they cancelled. I was supposed to go on a leader's retreat for YoungLife, but I couldn't convince myself to go, and then there was a funeral that ended up happening the day we were supposed to leave. I'm not sad I didn't go to that, because I just didn't want to. I don't want to force relationships with people who keep hurting me but that is stupid because then I'm all alone in the world.
Friends have been incredibly flakey lately, not even answering my texts. Canceling plans. Otherwise seeming to ignore me unless they need something. I don't know how I get here over and over again. Friends that say "we should hang out again!" "I'm so glad we met because we just get each other!" and other things, but then they don't answer texts and I don't see them. Maybe it's my phone that doesn't work? Maybe I'm the annoying friend that people try to avoid and only hang out with once in awhile because I'm so exhausting. Maybe I'm boring or have nothing to add to the conversation. Maybe I don't understand how the world works so it seems pointless to try to talk to me because it doesn't get them anywhere.
I'm a quarter of a century old and I'm utterly alone in the world. I don't understand. It's not for lack of trying. I joined YoungLife in hopes that I could make friends with leaders and make a difference in the lives of high school kids where I didn't have any help at that time. My teens answer half a conversation and then leave me on read before we make any plans. I pick up extra hours at work, try to arrange my schedule to be able to hang out with others but they cancel last minute and refuse to help me when I ask for a returned favor. My brother can't be bothered to answer my messages. My parents answer, but sometimes not for several days.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND ANY OF IT!!!
We're after the holidays, people should be slowing down and getting back into their routines. Surely somebody somewhere needs some company for something.
I'm too old to be upset and literally crying about these things. Yet, I found myself on the phone crying to my mom several times in the past couple of weeks.
Maybe I need to go back to counseling.
Work is work. I battle apathy and terror. Depression and mediocre days war for my attention. My nightmares come back but they're different and beginning to fade. Though I wake up angry many days. My counselor has been on maternity leave since Thanksgiving-ish. I'm still single. YoungLife has become a distant memory and a struggle and a point of hurt, all at the same time. Friends seem to be a thing of the past for me.
I'm anxious in this period of waiting. I'm antsy. I feel something coming, but I don't know what it is.
Still, through all of these things, I hope there is something good coming. The past few months I went from things scheduled every day, being busy with YoungLife, work, counseling, piano lessons, and various other activities down to nothing but work. Spread out days of work, no less. I was supposed to go to a weekend getaway with some friends but they cancelled. I was supposed to go on a leader's retreat for YoungLife, but I couldn't convince myself to go, and then there was a funeral that ended up happening the day we were supposed to leave. I'm not sad I didn't go to that, because I just didn't want to. I don't want to force relationships with people who keep hurting me but that is stupid because then I'm all alone in the world.
Friends have been incredibly flakey lately, not even answering my texts. Canceling plans. Otherwise seeming to ignore me unless they need something. I don't know how I get here over and over again. Friends that say "we should hang out again!" "I'm so glad we met because we just get each other!" and other things, but then they don't answer texts and I don't see them. Maybe it's my phone that doesn't work? Maybe I'm the annoying friend that people try to avoid and only hang out with once in awhile because I'm so exhausting. Maybe I'm boring or have nothing to add to the conversation. Maybe I don't understand how the world works so it seems pointless to try to talk to me because it doesn't get them anywhere.
I'm a quarter of a century old and I'm utterly alone in the world. I don't understand. It's not for lack of trying. I joined YoungLife in hopes that I could make friends with leaders and make a difference in the lives of high school kids where I didn't have any help at that time. My teens answer half a conversation and then leave me on read before we make any plans. I pick up extra hours at work, try to arrange my schedule to be able to hang out with others but they cancel last minute and refuse to help me when I ask for a returned favor. My brother can't be bothered to answer my messages. My parents answer, but sometimes not for several days.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND ANY OF IT!!!
We're after the holidays, people should be slowing down and getting back into their routines. Surely somebody somewhere needs some company for something.
I'm too old to be upset and literally crying about these things. Yet, I found myself on the phone crying to my mom several times in the past couple of weeks.
Maybe I need to go back to counseling.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Hauntingly Familiar
As you might well know, from my many posts, I have moved back to the city I lived in during college (a.k.a. College Town, as named for my blog).
This also just so happens to be the city in which I lived through the worst year of my life, 2015.
2015 was a terrible year, filled with 2 relationships that were exceedingly toxic and abusive. I was sexually assaulted/raped, mentally imprisoned, physically abused, and otherwise harmed in most ways possible. Through these occurrences, I developed terrible depression, complex PTSD (which was made worse by my friend's suicide the year prior), and I participated in smoking and self-harm as ways of attempting to cope.
Often, in my experiences as a nurse, and general experiences as a human, I have been slapped in the face with comments, made by unknowing people.
Usually these include jokes about suicide or self-harm. Other times they are people lying about sexual assault and rape in order to remain out of trouble or to get attention. And still, there are instances that fall in and out of that range.
Recently, my ability to cope was tested as someone mentioned to me that "they don't believe most rape victims have actually been raped. Most of the time these girls didn't say 'no' strongly enough or contributed to the drinking and merely had sex that they regretted in the morning."
*deep breath*
For those of you who don't know my full story, just know that these are two very triggering statements for me 1) that the 'no' was not forceful enough and 2) that because the girl was drunk, it is automatically her fault because she was drinking.
Let me preface this by saying that sometimes people lie. Maybe someone is lying about having sex and regretting it in the morning and they feel that claiming it as "rape" is going to lessen their guilt or somehow get them sympathy. Let me also say that I have a tendency to believe people if they claim they have been assaulted, because if it's false then it'll eat away at them as they meet true victims. If it doesn't, then hey, not my problem. I would rather believe people and treat them with extra gentleness, than to assume that everyone is lying.
With that being said, the details of my story often keep me up at night. I have worked for years at grounding techniques and trying to remember all of the events that I unfortunately survived over the course of living through the hell I experienced in 2015.
My attackers were boyfriends. With 1, I question whether my "no" was strong enough, because I froze. I told him "no" about 50 times, maybe more. However, my body was frozen apart from moving his hands away and trying to keep myself safe. There are about 15-20 minutes that I cannot account for because my brain shut off and I had a sort of "flashback" but I didn't go into the past, I just went somewhere else in my brain. I remember my thoughts through that unaccounted time, but I cannot remember reality.
I struggle with knowing I could have done something, but I couldn't, all at the same time. Especially after taking self-defense, I know that my desires to kick him in the face and run, were absolutely acceptable and encouraged behaviors because of what he was doing. But I didn't do it, because I couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation in that particular moment.
My second boyfriend (of about 2.5 months at the time) knowingly got me drunk and likely drugged me. We had been planning to go out dancing and drinking. Like a fool, I told him my limit was 3 drinks, and asked him to hold my drink when I went out to dance. It was a night where we were given 2 free shots of various whiskey to encourage people to buy these brands. This, along with him getting me refill after refill (without my knowledge) and then encouraging me to chug, ended up causing me to drink too much. He knew I trusted him, and he knew I wasn't able to keep track of him being gone when I was dancing with my friends. He had been charming and fun for the few months we were together, until that night. The next memory I have was waking up next to him, naked, in a hotel room. I didn't know where I was, what had happened, or how to get home.
This is a struggle for me because I was counting my own drinks. I know to not drink too much. I know when to cut myself off. I trusted him. He claimed he wanted to help me after having been hurt by my first boyfriend. He claimed to have "over-the-moon" feelings for me. He claimed to want to marry me... after only a couple months of dating. We had had our fights, but he typically ended up working out a decent deal to "compromise" with me. After that night, he fought with me on religion, virginity, giving my body to him (he even claimed scripture for this, even though he is not a believer), and he fought me on everything.
With the two comments made about rape/sexual assault victims in relation to lying, saying "no", and drinking, I am at a war. I war within myself nearly every day whether I was truly abused the way I have had to convince myself I was, or if I'm making these things up and merely regret having sex with guys I hadn't even planned to kiss. Which, is a form of assault in it's own right, technically. But those are stories for another day.
And so, I lost hours of precious sleep, that I already don't get enough of, battling in my own head over words spoken out of unknowing. In the conversation, in which those comments were made, the person I spoke with prefaced the conversation saying they "had not had anyone in their family raped" and that these were just their findings in their limited control group of people who had claimed to have been assaulted/raped (a group of maybe 2 people). So, at least they acknowledged that. But it still stings.
It stings to not even believe my own memory, because of somebody's opinion about something that has never personally effected them or someone they love and know dearly. It stings to have to battle in my own head and lose sleep over such small comments. It stings to not be able to easily discern reality from nightmares, because your life is worse than your worst nightmare.
Grounding is exhausting in these situations and for someone who has been working 6 days a week, between 2 new jobs and learning all of the "new", it is especially difficult to bring myself back to the facts. To prove to myself that the labels of "rape" and "abuse" given by my counselor truly fit the relationships I had. Then, for days, my brain is recounting and dredging up all of the examples it can muster, and even some I had forgotten, in order to prove to me that I am not "crazy" for believing in my traumatic past.
And so the past haunts the present. It lurks in the corner of every new adventure. It tests out every new friendship, and holds it to standards that are unbeknownst to me. All I get are the results of the test: don't trust anyone and keep it to myself.
I don't talk about my past anymore. The more new people I meet, and the more I go on with life, the fewer people I tell. I told nobody in Small Town, and I don't plan on telling anyone here. The only people that will know, already know, and those were even probably not great choices. Thing is, it's not fair to keep it to yourself and it's not healthy. Counselors can't be the only people to ever know things like this, but I can't go around telling every random person I befriend about my traumatic past either.
The "discussions" started, the fights I wage, and the debate about what constitutes rape and abuse are conversations I simply try to avoid. Changing the subject or nodding along and zoning out seem to work the best for me. However, it seems that's all I do anymore...
And so it goes. I bandage those hurt feelings and move on. I don't blame the lips that spill the words. I don't abandon the people who think that way to begin with. All I can do is hope to recover from my many returns to the deep pits, and keep on pushing along.
Maybe one day things will get better.
This also just so happens to be the city in which I lived through the worst year of my life, 2015.
2015 was a terrible year, filled with 2 relationships that were exceedingly toxic and abusive. I was sexually assaulted/raped, mentally imprisoned, physically abused, and otherwise harmed in most ways possible. Through these occurrences, I developed terrible depression, complex PTSD (which was made worse by my friend's suicide the year prior), and I participated in smoking and self-harm as ways of attempting to cope.
Often, in my experiences as a nurse, and general experiences as a human, I have been slapped in the face with comments, made by unknowing people.
Usually these include jokes about suicide or self-harm. Other times they are people lying about sexual assault and rape in order to remain out of trouble or to get attention. And still, there are instances that fall in and out of that range.
Recently, my ability to cope was tested as someone mentioned to me that "they don't believe most rape victims have actually been raped. Most of the time these girls didn't say 'no' strongly enough or contributed to the drinking and merely had sex that they regretted in the morning."
*deep breath*
For those of you who don't know my full story, just know that these are two very triggering statements for me 1) that the 'no' was not forceful enough and 2) that because the girl was drunk, it is automatically her fault because she was drinking.
Let me preface this by saying that sometimes people lie. Maybe someone is lying about having sex and regretting it in the morning and they feel that claiming it as "rape" is going to lessen their guilt or somehow get them sympathy. Let me also say that I have a tendency to believe people if they claim they have been assaulted, because if it's false then it'll eat away at them as they meet true victims. If it doesn't, then hey, not my problem. I would rather believe people and treat them with extra gentleness, than to assume that everyone is lying.
With that being said, the details of my story often keep me up at night. I have worked for years at grounding techniques and trying to remember all of the events that I unfortunately survived over the course of living through the hell I experienced in 2015.
My attackers were boyfriends. With 1, I question whether my "no" was strong enough, because I froze. I told him "no" about 50 times, maybe more. However, my body was frozen apart from moving his hands away and trying to keep myself safe. There are about 15-20 minutes that I cannot account for because my brain shut off and I had a sort of "flashback" but I didn't go into the past, I just went somewhere else in my brain. I remember my thoughts through that unaccounted time, but I cannot remember reality.
I struggle with knowing I could have done something, but I couldn't, all at the same time. Especially after taking self-defense, I know that my desires to kick him in the face and run, were absolutely acceptable and encouraged behaviors because of what he was doing. But I didn't do it, because I couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation in that particular moment.
My second boyfriend (of about 2.5 months at the time) knowingly got me drunk and likely drugged me. We had been planning to go out dancing and drinking. Like a fool, I told him my limit was 3 drinks, and asked him to hold my drink when I went out to dance. It was a night where we were given 2 free shots of various whiskey to encourage people to buy these brands. This, along with him getting me refill after refill (without my knowledge) and then encouraging me to chug, ended up causing me to drink too much. He knew I trusted him, and he knew I wasn't able to keep track of him being gone when I was dancing with my friends. He had been charming and fun for the few months we were together, until that night. The next memory I have was waking up next to him, naked, in a hotel room. I didn't know where I was, what had happened, or how to get home.
This is a struggle for me because I was counting my own drinks. I know to not drink too much. I know when to cut myself off. I trusted him. He claimed he wanted to help me after having been hurt by my first boyfriend. He claimed to have "over-the-moon" feelings for me. He claimed to want to marry me... after only a couple months of dating. We had had our fights, but he typically ended up working out a decent deal to "compromise" with me. After that night, he fought with me on religion, virginity, giving my body to him (he even claimed scripture for this, even though he is not a believer), and he fought me on everything.
With the two comments made about rape/sexual assault victims in relation to lying, saying "no", and drinking, I am at a war. I war within myself nearly every day whether I was truly abused the way I have had to convince myself I was, or if I'm making these things up and merely regret having sex with guys I hadn't even planned to kiss. Which, is a form of assault in it's own right, technically. But those are stories for another day.
And so, I lost hours of precious sleep, that I already don't get enough of, battling in my own head over words spoken out of unknowing. In the conversation, in which those comments were made, the person I spoke with prefaced the conversation saying they "had not had anyone in their family raped" and that these were just their findings in their limited control group of people who had claimed to have been assaulted/raped (a group of maybe 2 people). So, at least they acknowledged that. But it still stings.
It stings to not even believe my own memory, because of somebody's opinion about something that has never personally effected them or someone they love and know dearly. It stings to have to battle in my own head and lose sleep over such small comments. It stings to not be able to easily discern reality from nightmares, because your life is worse than your worst nightmare.
Grounding is exhausting in these situations and for someone who has been working 6 days a week, between 2 new jobs and learning all of the "new", it is especially difficult to bring myself back to the facts. To prove to myself that the labels of "rape" and "abuse" given by my counselor truly fit the relationships I had. Then, for days, my brain is recounting and dredging up all of the examples it can muster, and even some I had forgotten, in order to prove to me that I am not "crazy" for believing in my traumatic past.
And so the past haunts the present. It lurks in the corner of every new adventure. It tests out every new friendship, and holds it to standards that are unbeknownst to me. All I get are the results of the test: don't trust anyone and keep it to myself.
I don't talk about my past anymore. The more new people I meet, and the more I go on with life, the fewer people I tell. I told nobody in Small Town, and I don't plan on telling anyone here. The only people that will know, already know, and those were even probably not great choices. Thing is, it's not fair to keep it to yourself and it's not healthy. Counselors can't be the only people to ever know things like this, but I can't go around telling every random person I befriend about my traumatic past either.
The "discussions" started, the fights I wage, and the debate about what constitutes rape and abuse are conversations I simply try to avoid. Changing the subject or nodding along and zoning out seem to work the best for me. However, it seems that's all I do anymore...
And so it goes. I bandage those hurt feelings and move on. I don't blame the lips that spill the words. I don't abandon the people who think that way to begin with. All I can do is hope to recover from my many returns to the deep pits, and keep on pushing along.
Maybe one day things will get better.
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Looming Deadlines...
It's nearly 11 p.m. here and I'm supposed to be getting up at 5 a.m. for work tomorrow...
I can't sleep because I've been trying to take NCLEX practice tests and start studying because I'm scheduled to take my NCLEX on Friday.
It occurred to me today, while at my "cousin's" kid's 1st birthday party, that I'm taking the NCLEX this week. Then I started thinking about how little I've studied because of work, moving, exhaustion, depression flare-ups, and general PTSD bullshit coming back. C'est la vie, non?
Anyway, I also started considering pushing it back another week or two to give myself some legit time to study. I don't know what to do. Do I just get it over with and hope that the 54% average on practice tests gets me on the passing side of the NCLEX scale? Or, do I try to attempt another shot at studying more?
They say that by passing nursing school, you should have most/all of the info needed to pass this damn test, but being on this end of taking the silly thing, I'm not sure how much I believe that. 54% is a pretty abysmal score to get on anything, let alone a $200 test. I guess I'll see how the rest of the week goes and if I need to, I'll change the date by Wednesday so that I don't lose said $200...
Goodnight y'all
I can't sleep because I've been trying to take NCLEX practice tests and start studying because I'm scheduled to take my NCLEX on Friday.
It occurred to me today, while at my "cousin's" kid's 1st birthday party, that I'm taking the NCLEX this week. Then I started thinking about how little I've studied because of work, moving, exhaustion, depression flare-ups, and general PTSD bullshit coming back. C'est la vie, non?
Anyway, I also started considering pushing it back another week or two to give myself some legit time to study. I don't know what to do. Do I just get it over with and hope that the 54% average on practice tests gets me on the passing side of the NCLEX scale? Or, do I try to attempt another shot at studying more?
They say that by passing nursing school, you should have most/all of the info needed to pass this damn test, but being on this end of taking the silly thing, I'm not sure how much I believe that. 54% is a pretty abysmal score to get on anything, let alone a $200 test. I guess I'll see how the rest of the week goes and if I need to, I'll change the date by Wednesday so that I don't lose said $200...
Goodnight y'all
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Best Buddy
Do any of y'all recall hearing about my Best Friend? I met him freshman year of college and we've been through quite a bit.
At the beginning of this blog, I used to write about how I thought he had a crush on me and we would hang out a lot. Fast forward about a year to sophomore year, and he and I "tried" dating. It lasted three weeks before I broke it off. We didn't talk much for awhile, but he contacted me again sometime between the end of Junior year and the beginning of Senior year. Weird thing about certain friendships, you can pick up right where you left off, as if nothing ever changed.
I shared with him what exboyfriend and exfiance did to me and he was crushed. It was the first time I've seen him get misty and the normal smile was not in his eyes. Regardless, he has stuck with me through my rants and raves, my days of self pity, and various legal situations where my counselor told me I needed a friend. Best Friend was that friend. He even offered to buy me a milk shake after a 5 hour wait at the police station with me. He just sat in the lobby, by himself, as I talked with an officer in the back. He didn't complain or seem irritated in the least. At the end, he gave me a hug, told me he was soooo proud of me, and listened as I rehashed the amazing work the police officer did to help me.
It doesn't matter what parts of the story I tell him or refuse to share with him, he is nothing but kind, supportive, and so very sweet. He knows when to be quiet and listen. He knows when to shut me off because I'm going down a bad thought process road. He knows when to give me time to process, or when I need to be around somebody. He asks before he hugs me. Most of all, he is working to rebuild my sense of self.
We were texting the other night, as we often times do, when he started asking questions. Questions about our short relationship (thought he has a girlfriend right now, he says he was just curious), some about what happened with the other guys, and some light-hearted questions to break up the seriousness of the conversation.
At one point, he asked, "Why, if you are so stubborn, did you not just leave these guys when you say you wanted to?" This question, in all honesty, made me get a bit defensive. I sent about 9 text pages about how I know I seem weak, staying with a guy even though I tried to break up over 4 times with him. I know it makes no sense to stay with someone who continually hurt me so badly. I know that the relationships are terrible and it makes no sense that I would have two boyfriends abuse me in terrible ways when I could have been with someone sweet. It makes absolutely no sense, even to me. However, I continued and told him that I was fighting. All those times he forced himself on me, I was fighting. All those times that I would break up with him, he would promise to be nicer and better, then I would take him back and he would be even worse because I "broke his heart," I was fighting.
I was fighting to stay alive. I was fighting to stay sane. I was fighting to make sense to myself and to do the best I could in the terrible prison I was in.
I don't know if he was shocked or sorry for asking that question in such a way, or maybe he knew that I was absolutely not bullshitting him at that point, but he replied saying: "I completely believe you. Of 4 women in my life that I actually believe 100%, you are one of them. I didn't mean to make it seem like you were foolish for not leaving. I can't imagine what it was like to be in your shoes. I'm so happy you stayed strong and came back into my life, it's such a blessing. I know you are so much stronger now. I want to thank you for fighting through, just in case no one else has thanked you for that. I can't imagine what it would have been like if anything worse (I know it can't get much worse, so you know what worse is [murder or suicide]) had happened to you."
At that point I cried. I cried. I ugly cried. I'm crying right now just reading it again.
He thanked me for surviving. He thanked me for sticking around and not letting life kill me, not letting these assholes cause me enough pain that I end my own life. Not letting exfiance hurt me enough to kill me.
He thanked me for fighting.
Friends, if you have survived abusive relationships, sexual assault, rape, depression, suicide attempts, self-harm, traumas, or any other life-threatening struggles, thank you for fighting. It a struggle, day in and day out, but you are here. Know that, even your friends and family who don't know what you've been through, are grateful that you are still alive and fighting. They may have no clue you're even struggling, but someone somewhere (me included) is glad you're sticking around.
Thank you for still being here.
At the beginning of this blog, I used to write about how I thought he had a crush on me and we would hang out a lot. Fast forward about a year to sophomore year, and he and I "tried" dating. It lasted three weeks before I broke it off. We didn't talk much for awhile, but he contacted me again sometime between the end of Junior year and the beginning of Senior year. Weird thing about certain friendships, you can pick up right where you left off, as if nothing ever changed.
I shared with him what exboyfriend and exfiance did to me and he was crushed. It was the first time I've seen him get misty and the normal smile was not in his eyes. Regardless, he has stuck with me through my rants and raves, my days of self pity, and various legal situations where my counselor told me I needed a friend. Best Friend was that friend. He even offered to buy me a milk shake after a 5 hour wait at the police station with me. He just sat in the lobby, by himself, as I talked with an officer in the back. He didn't complain or seem irritated in the least. At the end, he gave me a hug, told me he was soooo proud of me, and listened as I rehashed the amazing work the police officer did to help me.
It doesn't matter what parts of the story I tell him or refuse to share with him, he is nothing but kind, supportive, and so very sweet. He knows when to be quiet and listen. He knows when to shut me off because I'm going down a bad thought process road. He knows when to give me time to process, or when I need to be around somebody. He asks before he hugs me. Most of all, he is working to rebuild my sense of self.
We were texting the other night, as we often times do, when he started asking questions. Questions about our short relationship (thought he has a girlfriend right now, he says he was just curious), some about what happened with the other guys, and some light-hearted questions to break up the seriousness of the conversation.
At one point, he asked, "Why, if you are so stubborn, did you not just leave these guys when you say you wanted to?" This question, in all honesty, made me get a bit defensive. I sent about 9 text pages about how I know I seem weak, staying with a guy even though I tried to break up over 4 times with him. I know it makes no sense to stay with someone who continually hurt me so badly. I know that the relationships are terrible and it makes no sense that I would have two boyfriends abuse me in terrible ways when I could have been with someone sweet. It makes absolutely no sense, even to me. However, I continued and told him that I was fighting. All those times he forced himself on me, I was fighting. All those times that I would break up with him, he would promise to be nicer and better, then I would take him back and he would be even worse because I "broke his heart," I was fighting.
I was fighting to stay alive. I was fighting to stay sane. I was fighting to make sense to myself and to do the best I could in the terrible prison I was in.
I don't know if he was shocked or sorry for asking that question in such a way, or maybe he knew that I was absolutely not bullshitting him at that point, but he replied saying: "I completely believe you. Of 4 women in my life that I actually believe 100%, you are one of them. I didn't mean to make it seem like you were foolish for not leaving. I can't imagine what it was like to be in your shoes. I'm so happy you stayed strong and came back into my life, it's such a blessing. I know you are so much stronger now. I want to thank you for fighting through, just in case no one else has thanked you for that. I can't imagine what it would have been like if anything worse (I know it can't get much worse, so you know what worse is [murder or suicide]) had happened to you."
At that point I cried. I cried. I ugly cried. I'm crying right now just reading it again.
He thanked me for surviving. He thanked me for sticking around and not letting life kill me, not letting these assholes cause me enough pain that I end my own life. Not letting exfiance hurt me enough to kill me.
He thanked me for fighting.
Friends, if you have survived abusive relationships, sexual assault, rape, depression, suicide attempts, self-harm, traumas, or any other life-threatening struggles, thank you for fighting. It a struggle, day in and day out, but you are here. Know that, even your friends and family who don't know what you've been through, are grateful that you are still alive and fighting. They may have no clue you're even struggling, but someone somewhere (me included) is glad you're sticking around.
Thank you for still being here.
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Life As a New Grad Nurse...???
There are seasons in my life where everything seems to be going wrong. When I say "wrong" I mean, life suffocates me and it's all I can do to crawl to the bathroom in the event that I have to pee. I spend days in bed sleeping, don't need to eat, drinking something like water only happens to get down the pills, and I am paralyzed.
There are other seasons, where, for the first time in a very long time, I will have weeks of good days and I may be excited about life for awhile. Times when I see the fruition of the L-rd's work and I suddenly believe that life will work out and cooperate for a bit.
Then, there are days like today... My short bit of life right before and following graduation were wonderful. I was full of hope, some anxiety but it was more nervous excitement than true anxiety, I was able to smile, I felt lighter, I was graduating nursing school! I had a job! I was moving to Small Town and I'm getting away from the town that has produced nothing but pain for me the past year or two. I was leaving the boys that destroyed my sense of self and I would not have to worry about seeing their trucks on the road any longer. I don't have to worry about seeing them at a bar or when I go out to supper with friends. I don't have to be concerned that I'll bump into one of their friends when I go out bowling or to the grocery store. There was a light at the end of my deep, dark, looooooooong tunnel and I was nearing it!
I am nearer to the light, but it's gotten a bit dim today. I haven't started work and I've been down here for nearly two weeks. I've been graduated from nursing school for over a month and still no money coming in. Without work, I haven't been able to meet new people. A highlight in my day involves going to the grocery store across the street because they help every single customer out to their car so I get to talk to the person that helps me out. This is my socialization. I've spent time with my Mema and other family who is down here, but everyone seems to be so busy! They keep asking me how my license is coming and it's irritating to only be able to say that I'm still waiting on the board of nursing for the state. I JUST WANT TO START WORKING!!!
I go on vacation in about a week and a half and really want to work before I go on that vacation.
Through nursing school, everyone tells you how scary it is to wait to take the NCLEX. They tell you how scary it is waiting for the results. They tell you how hard the first year of nursing is, but they explain that it will still be rewarding and exciting.
Nobody tells you about the month or two in between nursing school and the NCLEX/working where life seems to stand still. It's a struggle if you do have a job because you are now college educated, working your college job... Or, you might be like me, who took a semester off of work for various reasons, and now you're waiting on the governmental agency to get their shit together so that you can begin your life!!! I'm going nuts!
Thing is, I've had so many friends text me disappointed about not having a job yet, not being able to work, being scared about how they will pay their bills, worried that they aren't good enough to be a nurse because the local hospitals won't hire them because of the mass influx in new grads, and we're all terrified. Nobody told us about this season of self-doubt, depression, anxiousness, feelings of failure, frustration at the system, and disappointment in ourselves for even feeling these things.
Most of us are having a terribly difficult time. I slept until 12:30 p.m. today and haven't left my bed yet because I have no motivation to do anything. I don't feel needed, I don't have friends to be able to see, I don't have money to be able to go do anything, and I can't see a purpose to get dressed or complete any task. Couple that with my nightmare I had last night (I'll tell you about it in my next post) and the flashbacks that are coming back in full force, I'm struggling. Now, I'm not as bad as I have been. This is the point where I can still turn my depressive episode around. All I have to do is find the energy and desire.
There are other seasons, where, for the first time in a very long time, I will have weeks of good days and I may be excited about life for awhile. Times when I see the fruition of the L-rd's work and I suddenly believe that life will work out and cooperate for a bit.
Then, there are days like today... My short bit of life right before and following graduation were wonderful. I was full of hope, some anxiety but it was more nervous excitement than true anxiety, I was able to smile, I felt lighter, I was graduating nursing school! I had a job! I was moving to Small Town and I'm getting away from the town that has produced nothing but pain for me the past year or two. I was leaving the boys that destroyed my sense of self and I would not have to worry about seeing their trucks on the road any longer. I don't have to worry about seeing them at a bar or when I go out to supper with friends. I don't have to be concerned that I'll bump into one of their friends when I go out bowling or to the grocery store. There was a light at the end of my deep, dark, looooooooong tunnel and I was nearing it!
I am nearer to the light, but it's gotten a bit dim today. I haven't started work and I've been down here for nearly two weeks. I've been graduated from nursing school for over a month and still no money coming in. Without work, I haven't been able to meet new people. A highlight in my day involves going to the grocery store across the street because they help every single customer out to their car so I get to talk to the person that helps me out. This is my socialization. I've spent time with my Mema and other family who is down here, but everyone seems to be so busy! They keep asking me how my license is coming and it's irritating to only be able to say that I'm still waiting on the board of nursing for the state. I JUST WANT TO START WORKING!!!
I go on vacation in about a week and a half and really want to work before I go on that vacation.
Through nursing school, everyone tells you how scary it is to wait to take the NCLEX. They tell you how scary it is waiting for the results. They tell you how hard the first year of nursing is, but they explain that it will still be rewarding and exciting.
Nobody tells you about the month or two in between nursing school and the NCLEX/working where life seems to stand still. It's a struggle if you do have a job because you are now college educated, working your college job... Or, you might be like me, who took a semester off of work for various reasons, and now you're waiting on the governmental agency to get their shit together so that you can begin your life!!! I'm going nuts!
Thing is, I've had so many friends text me disappointed about not having a job yet, not being able to work, being scared about how they will pay their bills, worried that they aren't good enough to be a nurse because the local hospitals won't hire them because of the mass influx in new grads, and we're all terrified. Nobody told us about this season of self-doubt, depression, anxiousness, feelings of failure, frustration at the system, and disappointment in ourselves for even feeling these things.
Most of us are having a terribly difficult time. I slept until 12:30 p.m. today and haven't left my bed yet because I have no motivation to do anything. I don't feel needed, I don't have friends to be able to see, I don't have money to be able to go do anything, and I can't see a purpose to get dressed or complete any task. Couple that with my nightmare I had last night (I'll tell you about it in my next post) and the flashbacks that are coming back in full force, I'm struggling. Now, I'm not as bad as I have been. This is the point where I can still turn my depressive episode around. All I have to do is find the energy and desire.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Decisions for My Future
Today I got a call from Big Time Hospital that I have been wanting for months. Unfortunately, I already took a job at Small Town Hospital due to family connections... the HR lady sounded really disappointed. I'm really disappointed.
The pros and cons keep going on and on in my head. The little hospital will provide me with an in already, I have friends and will make many others, I have family in the nearby vicinity, and housing costs vs. pay ratio is in my favor. However, the cons to little town hospital are that the new grad program is not as in depth, our sickest babies get shipped to big town hospital, and family is in the nearby vicinity.
Yes, I know family is in the pros and cons list. The side of the family in this particular state is full of undiagnosed bipolar (type 2) people, who are being treated for depression. This means that they go manic when they are on a new med and then they stop taking said med once they feel like they are on top of the world. Good heavens, family functions are quite the event to be at and witness various people in their varying degrees of bipolar fluctuations!
Anywho, the pros for Big Time Hospital include: better pay, intensive new grad program, higher acuity NICU, bigger town, more attractions in the city, prettier part of the state, closer to the beach, being a part of a major health care system, being farther away from family than a 20 minutes commute (or seeing them at small town hospital for work every day...). Cons include: higher cost of living, bigger town = too many people, these hospitals are in the major city (no country living for me), I have no aquaintances, I don't even have the job yet the call was just to schedule an interview, and I have no family around that would be closer than a 4-6 hour drive.
Now, I talked to the lady and she said I could potentially always just apply there after I have a few years under my belt. I think that will help me secure the basics before learning the more in depth ICU care like long-term vents, and various higher tech stuff. I miss out on the new grad education, but I learn better hands-on anyway. Plus, with my immediate family having fallen apart this weekend (I'll update you in a later post), I think it would be good to have some kind of support to go and talk to. Best part about it, my Mema is part of the care team for the babies so I don't even have to worry about breaking HIPAA rules as long as it is out of the vicinity of others hearing. I can tell her everything and she gets it because she'll be right there next to me. I also have my great-aunt who is the DON (director of nursing) for the floor and I'm going to talk to her about getting some time in Labor and Delivery and cross-training there.
You know, the more I talk this out with you, the better I'm coming to realize that Small Town Hospital is closer to where I need to be. People have a small-town attitude there, and not the hoity-toity nonsense that comes with Big Town. I can go to Big Town to visit, but don't have to stay there. Then, if I decide to be a travel nurse, I could always do an assignment there just to see how it is and then I'll be getting paid more too!
Thanks pal, you helped me turn my minor disappointment into a silver lining. Plus, it's great to know that Big Town Hospital thought highly enough of me to even give me a call for an interview. That means that I didn't get this job just because of family connections. Instead, I got it based on the fact that they actually think I can do it.
Thank you L-rd!
The pros and cons keep going on and on in my head. The little hospital will provide me with an in already, I have friends and will make many others, I have family in the nearby vicinity, and housing costs vs. pay ratio is in my favor. However, the cons to little town hospital are that the new grad program is not as in depth, our sickest babies get shipped to big town hospital, and family is in the nearby vicinity.
Yes, I know family is in the pros and cons list. The side of the family in this particular state is full of undiagnosed bipolar (type 2) people, who are being treated for depression. This means that they go manic when they are on a new med and then they stop taking said med once they feel like they are on top of the world. Good heavens, family functions are quite the event to be at and witness various people in their varying degrees of bipolar fluctuations!
Anywho, the pros for Big Time Hospital include: better pay, intensive new grad program, higher acuity NICU, bigger town, more attractions in the city, prettier part of the state, closer to the beach, being a part of a major health care system, being farther away from family than a 20 minutes commute (or seeing them at small town hospital for work every day...). Cons include: higher cost of living, bigger town = too many people, these hospitals are in the major city (no country living for me), I have no aquaintances, I don't even have the job yet the call was just to schedule an interview, and I have no family around that would be closer than a 4-6 hour drive.
Now, I talked to the lady and she said I could potentially always just apply there after I have a few years under my belt. I think that will help me secure the basics before learning the more in depth ICU care like long-term vents, and various higher tech stuff. I miss out on the new grad education, but I learn better hands-on anyway. Plus, with my immediate family having fallen apart this weekend (I'll update you in a later post), I think it would be good to have some kind of support to go and talk to. Best part about it, my Mema is part of the care team for the babies so I don't even have to worry about breaking HIPAA rules as long as it is out of the vicinity of others hearing. I can tell her everything and she gets it because she'll be right there next to me. I also have my great-aunt who is the DON (director of nursing) for the floor and I'm going to talk to her about getting some time in Labor and Delivery and cross-training there.
You know, the more I talk this out with you, the better I'm coming to realize that Small Town Hospital is closer to where I need to be. People have a small-town attitude there, and not the hoity-toity nonsense that comes with Big Town. I can go to Big Town to visit, but don't have to stay there. Then, if I decide to be a travel nurse, I could always do an assignment there just to see how it is and then I'll be getting paid more too!
Thanks pal, you helped me turn my minor disappointment into a silver lining. Plus, it's great to know that Big Town Hospital thought highly enough of me to even give me a call for an interview. That means that I didn't get this job just because of family connections. Instead, I got it based on the fact that they actually think I can do it.
Thank you L-rd!
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Regrets and Learning
If y'all recall, I "broke up" with Jersey.
For the past couple of days I have been struggling with the decision because of her haunting words of, "karma is a bitch."
Today, class was a bit uncomfortable, but not as bad as it has been while waiting for her to come and attack me.
Tonight I went out with Millie and we got on the subject. Millie is in a clinical group with Jersey and I guess Jersey went to a simulation lab after our "break up" and was crying the whole time. She was venting to another classmate when Millie walked by them in the hall. She ended up staying and heard all that Jersey had to say. Jersey said she felt attacked, and then started listing off my many faults and why she felt I was being unreasonable.
This is understandable.
I agree that the timing was wrong. Thinking back on the situation, I should have probably scheduled it for a different time, but I don't know when else I could have done it and I can't fix that now.
Talking with Millie gave me no comfort. I still feel terrible. I feel like I somehow embodied everything that hurt me in Jersey's personality, my old Roommate, and the girls I lived with freshman year. I somehow turned into the mean girl that I have despised and worked so hard to get away from all these years.
I hate myself for that.
I keep second guessing myself and my decision. I feel like I am absolutely crazy and that I made a huge mistake. Regardless of how I try to rationalize it, I simply cannot fix the situation in my head and I feel really bad.
This brings me to a huge conundrum... In the future, do I ignore when friends are dumping on me, and turn the other cheek? In these relationships, the friendship usually ends up phasing out gradually as I go to less and less gatherings with them and do not talk with them as much. OR Do I continue to stand up for myself and leave a path of destruction, hurt feelings, and people in tears? This option allows me to have my thoughts and feelings heard, but I feel bad and I become more stressed than if I just let it ride and take the yelling.
I don't know whether to apologize or accept that she needed to hear what I had to say. People complain about these things behind her back a lot, but nobody every tells her these things. Granted, I do not like being assertive and I do not think that it works on me. It doesn't fit.
I had too many good days in a row. Today was decidedly a nice day, up until about 5 p.m. tonight when my brain decided to remind me that it was Country Boy's birthday. I shared a shot with him and then went out to drinks with Millie. Beauty ended up coming, too, but not until way later.
Thing is, I'm having a lot of troubles with Beauty lately. She continues to ignore my texts, though I don't text about complaints. When I text her, it's to invite her out or let her know that some assignment is due or to simply say something nice. She responds to maybe 1 out of every 5-10 that I send her. Meanwhile, she tells me that Lexi complains to her all the time about me. This means that they are probably hanging out quite a bit. That's good, they need to be able to hang out with friends. I'm just getting frustrated with the fact that I am being ignored, but I'm the first one to be called when there is something wrong and they are having troubles with their car, school, or life.
What would happen if I were to die? Would anyone miss me?
I'm not someone that anyone tries to go out of their way to hang out with, by I am on speed dial for literally any issue that arises.
It's okay to ignore me, but you better believe I am expected to respond to every text within a couple minutes of receiving it.
I'm just another body in a seat until someone has a question about what happened in class.
I'm just some girl that is expected to take a whole load of shit when someone is having a bad day. Heaven forbid I need to vent to anyone but my mom! I have to just take the dumping, with a smile on my face, then go about fixing all of the person's problems even if the problems weren't actually my fault to begin with.
If I were to die one night and didn't show up for class for a couple of days, would anyone notice? Would Beauty regret the texts she ignored? Would Jersey regret unloading all of her life frustrations on a friend who she knew was fresh out of a break-up and had been recently traumatized? What would Millie do? How would my friends from the Farm Store that I worked at as a first job respond? Would any of the girls that I went to elementary school even think twice if my name were in an obituary? Would my seat simply be an open seat in the back, or would it then be looked upon with any flicker of sadness?
Would anyone even notice?
How would I be remembered?
Would it be for the awkwardness I show everyday? For my clumsiness? My traumatic couple of years? How I have pissed people of left and right through college? For the struggles I talked about with my couple of people who sat next to me? For being the "quiet" girl in clinical?
Would I be remembered at all?
For the past couple of days I have been struggling with the decision because of her haunting words of, "karma is a bitch."
Today, class was a bit uncomfortable, but not as bad as it has been while waiting for her to come and attack me.
Tonight I went out with Millie and we got on the subject. Millie is in a clinical group with Jersey and I guess Jersey went to a simulation lab after our "break up" and was crying the whole time. She was venting to another classmate when Millie walked by them in the hall. She ended up staying and heard all that Jersey had to say. Jersey said she felt attacked, and then started listing off my many faults and why she felt I was being unreasonable.
This is understandable.
I agree that the timing was wrong. Thinking back on the situation, I should have probably scheduled it for a different time, but I don't know when else I could have done it and I can't fix that now.
Talking with Millie gave me no comfort. I still feel terrible. I feel like I somehow embodied everything that hurt me in Jersey's personality, my old Roommate, and the girls I lived with freshman year. I somehow turned into the mean girl that I have despised and worked so hard to get away from all these years.
I hate myself for that.
I keep second guessing myself and my decision. I feel like I am absolutely crazy and that I made a huge mistake. Regardless of how I try to rationalize it, I simply cannot fix the situation in my head and I feel really bad.
This brings me to a huge conundrum... In the future, do I ignore when friends are dumping on me, and turn the other cheek? In these relationships, the friendship usually ends up phasing out gradually as I go to less and less gatherings with them and do not talk with them as much. OR Do I continue to stand up for myself and leave a path of destruction, hurt feelings, and people in tears? This option allows me to have my thoughts and feelings heard, but I feel bad and I become more stressed than if I just let it ride and take the yelling.
I don't know whether to apologize or accept that she needed to hear what I had to say. People complain about these things behind her back a lot, but nobody every tells her these things. Granted, I do not like being assertive and I do not think that it works on me. It doesn't fit.
I had too many good days in a row. Today was decidedly a nice day, up until about 5 p.m. tonight when my brain decided to remind me that it was Country Boy's birthday. I shared a shot with him and then went out to drinks with Millie. Beauty ended up coming, too, but not until way later.
Thing is, I'm having a lot of troubles with Beauty lately. She continues to ignore my texts, though I don't text about complaints. When I text her, it's to invite her out or let her know that some assignment is due or to simply say something nice. She responds to maybe 1 out of every 5-10 that I send her. Meanwhile, she tells me that Lexi complains to her all the time about me. This means that they are probably hanging out quite a bit. That's good, they need to be able to hang out with friends. I'm just getting frustrated with the fact that I am being ignored, but I'm the first one to be called when there is something wrong and they are having troubles with their car, school, or life.
What would happen if I were to die? Would anyone miss me?
I'm not someone that anyone tries to go out of their way to hang out with, by I am on speed dial for literally any issue that arises.
It's okay to ignore me, but you better believe I am expected to respond to every text within a couple minutes of receiving it.
I'm just another body in a seat until someone has a question about what happened in class.
I'm just some girl that is expected to take a whole load of shit when someone is having a bad day. Heaven forbid I need to vent to anyone but my mom! I have to just take the dumping, with a smile on my face, then go about fixing all of the person's problems even if the problems weren't actually my fault to begin with.
If I were to die one night and didn't show up for class for a couple of days, would anyone notice? Would Beauty regret the texts she ignored? Would Jersey regret unloading all of her life frustrations on a friend who she knew was fresh out of a break-up and had been recently traumatized? What would Millie do? How would my friends from the Farm Store that I worked at as a first job respond? Would any of the girls that I went to elementary school even think twice if my name were in an obituary? Would my seat simply be an open seat in the back, or would it then be looked upon with any flicker of sadness?
Would anyone even notice?
How would I be remembered?
Would it be for the awkwardness I show everyday? For my clumsiness? My traumatic couple of years? How I have pissed people of left and right through college? For the struggles I talked about with my couple of people who sat next to me? For being the "quiet" girl in clinical?
Would I be remembered at all?
Monday, February 1, 2016
Ridiculously Stupid Cycle
Guys, I'm freaking out today. I was doing okay for the first time a couple days ago and now I'm headed back into the sad part of my cycle. I'm freaking out because I'm terrified I have an STD.
I know, I shouldn't be worrying and then refuse to go get tested. Thing is, I didn't want the contact that spreads STDs. It wasn't my choice. I could choose for the guys to have protection. I didn't choose any of it. That makes me angry. If I had a choice in any part of the matter at all, then I wouldn't be in this predicament.
I'm angry because I didn't get a choice. I'm angry because if I do have one, then I feel like my life is over because I don't want a husband to get it, if I have anything, and I damn sure don't want kids to get it. So then marriage and children are out of the picture for me.
That was my nightmare last night. That I had an STD.
I know I should go get tested but I'm terrified that it will be the end of my life and dreams.
I'm hoping I can just get to counseling tomorrow. I look forward to having it twice a week because I'm not doing well going so far out between sessions. I feel better the first few days and then I start sinking again about mid-way through the week once it gets to about Thursday or Friday and then my weekends are shit.
On a positive note, I got a snow day today. I really needed it. I'm just hoping I get to start clinicals tomorrow because it'll be the first day of OB clinicals and I'm on the Mom/Baby floor. Yay!
I know, I shouldn't be worrying and then refuse to go get tested. Thing is, I didn't want the contact that spreads STDs. It wasn't my choice. I could choose for the guys to have protection. I didn't choose any of it. That makes me angry. If I had a choice in any part of the matter at all, then I wouldn't be in this predicament.
I'm angry because I didn't get a choice. I'm angry because if I do have one, then I feel like my life is over because I don't want a husband to get it, if I have anything, and I damn sure don't want kids to get it. So then marriage and children are out of the picture for me.
That was my nightmare last night. That I had an STD.
I know I should go get tested but I'm terrified that it will be the end of my life and dreams.
I'm hoping I can just get to counseling tomorrow. I look forward to having it twice a week because I'm not doing well going so far out between sessions. I feel better the first few days and then I start sinking again about mid-way through the week once it gets to about Thursday or Friday and then my weekends are shit.
On a positive note, I got a snow day today. I really needed it. I'm just hoping I get to start clinicals tomorrow because it'll be the first day of OB clinicals and I'm on the Mom/Baby floor. Yay!
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
I Swear, I'm Gonna Drop Kick Somebody
Fiance went back to work a couple weeks ago. Fortunately, instead of traveling a couple states away, he was able to stay in our same state, just drive a couple hours to the new site he was assigned to. Since he is so close, I went up to visit him over the weekend. In talking while I was there, I started crying. I couldn't really explain to him why between sobs, and also because my mind was just drawing a blank. I can't put into words the feelings I get sometimes, I just knew that I was sad and angry and for some reason the tears started pouring while I was there with him. So, he hugged me until the tears stopped, then we went out for lunch.
A couple days after that, once I was back home, he was texting me but I was asleep and my phone was on silent. He texted once, then texted again an hour later. A few hours after that, he asked if I was okay because I wasn't responding. A short while after that text, I woke up and looked at my phone. 5 texts! Only three were from him, one from roomie, and another from Dad. Anyway, fiance and I started talking and I told him I had just been asleep. However, we started talking about how I was doing, why I was mad and sad (because of ExBF). He asked me to go back to counseling.
When I first started counseling, he told me he thought it was a waste of time. I agreed because after three sessions, I had gotten nowhere in the sexual assault area of my life and I was sick of wasting time and money driving from Hometown down to College town (an hour to an hour and a half of driving). So, I cancelled my appointments and stopped going. Four months later, my flashbacks are not so bad and I'm not having so many nightmares anymore. Despite these things, my depression is the darkest it's ever been.
Before going into the relationship with fiance, I told him I have depression and bipolar. He told me that he doesn't believe in those and that I should just get over being sad. He also asked if I've ever been clinically diagnosed by a doctor, to which I replied I have not. Why do I need to go get a doctor diagnose me when I have the DSM-V book with all symptoms and I know that there is a family history of bipolar and undiagnosed bipolar that is being treated as depression? Logically, I don't feel I need an official diagnosis because that just puts a label on me that I don't want. Then meds will be prescribed to me that I don't want to be on and I will have a whole host of other problems that I do not want or need to deal with.
Now, he is probably the 5th person that has asked me to go back to counseling but nobody listens to me to know why I refuse to go back or to listen to the problems that I have at whatever time they ask. They think that counseling is a "fix" for my "temporary" problem. That's ridiculous. If you've read my earlier posts, you can see that this problem will never go away. Seeing as I had depression before the whole ExBF thing, that just means that my base-line depression is worse than it was before. I'll survive and learn to deal. I'm not going back to counseling, that was bullsh!t.
So, I tell my friends nothing, they are now starting to worry. That's bullsh!t too because they don't want to hear what I have to say but they feel like they need to know what's going on in my life. Oh my gosh people, pick a freakin' side! If you want to know, then deal with what I tell you. You don't have to live with it, I do. You'll survive (not you, my friends). If you tell me you don't want to know what's happening in my life and in my head, then don't frickin' ask! I have no way of winning with anyone because they don't understand that they are asking for contradictions to happen.
If one more person asks me, I'm just going to flat out tell them that the last time they asked what was going on, they tried to tell me what to do and then asked me to stop telling them things. Then they started pulling away and not being around me anymore. So, I stop telling them things, and then they want to start digging in my business again. I'm going to tell them that I can't handle learning to depend on people and then get ditched by them because they can't handle my sh!t. So, I am choosing to deal with it on my own the way I have my whole life. I will tell them that I will listen to their good and bad news, their struggles, and what they are excited about. But I am going to ask them/tell them not to be offended when I don't open up to them because I tried that and it obviously didn't work at all.
And if one more person tells me to go to counseling, sit in a chair, and start babbling on about random crap that pops into my head, I will drop kick them. I know they mean well, but I need to be able to feel like I am making decisions in my own life. They might be bad ones, but I'm learning. I can't do what everyone tells me to do because everyone tells me to do something completely different with my life and none of them have lived in my shoes. I also need to have some illusion that I have some control over what happens to me from now on.
Being sexually assaulted takes away any semblance of maybe having control over what happens to your own body, so I need to not feel out of control anymore. Honestly, everyone tries to take away what little power I have over my life and my healing by telling me what to do because they don't think I can make my own decision. That tells me that they believe it is my fault that I got into the situation I got into. They don't know how I fought, how scared I was, how my brain shut off, and I pretty much blacked out. These are all coping mechanisms and completely normal psychological responses to trauma. Hindsight, I wish I could have changed a lot of things and completely prevented it in the first place. Alas, that is not possible and right now I hate my life because of it. Don't take away my last chance of feeling like I might be able to make it through this without completely shutting down and not leaving my bed for food or water. I'm one step away from not having the strength or energy to take another breath, don't take that away from me.
I love you all (yes you, those who read my incessant babbling). I know you all mean well and want to help me. Mostly, it helps that you read this, or don't. This blog is pretty much my diary. I appreciate that I have somewhere to vent about everything, and anything that is going on in my life.
A couple days after that, once I was back home, he was texting me but I was asleep and my phone was on silent. He texted once, then texted again an hour later. A few hours after that, he asked if I was okay because I wasn't responding. A short while after that text, I woke up and looked at my phone. 5 texts! Only three were from him, one from roomie, and another from Dad. Anyway, fiance and I started talking and I told him I had just been asleep. However, we started talking about how I was doing, why I was mad and sad (because of ExBF). He asked me to go back to counseling.
When I first started counseling, he told me he thought it was a waste of time. I agreed because after three sessions, I had gotten nowhere in the sexual assault area of my life and I was sick of wasting time and money driving from Hometown down to College town (an hour to an hour and a half of driving). So, I cancelled my appointments and stopped going. Four months later, my flashbacks are not so bad and I'm not having so many nightmares anymore. Despite these things, my depression is the darkest it's ever been.
Before going into the relationship with fiance, I told him I have depression and bipolar. He told me that he doesn't believe in those and that I should just get over being sad. He also asked if I've ever been clinically diagnosed by a doctor, to which I replied I have not. Why do I need to go get a doctor diagnose me when I have the DSM-V book with all symptoms and I know that there is a family history of bipolar and undiagnosed bipolar that is being treated as depression? Logically, I don't feel I need an official diagnosis because that just puts a label on me that I don't want. Then meds will be prescribed to me that I don't want to be on and I will have a whole host of other problems that I do not want or need to deal with.
Now, he is probably the 5th person that has asked me to go back to counseling but nobody listens to me to know why I refuse to go back or to listen to the problems that I have at whatever time they ask. They think that counseling is a "fix" for my "temporary" problem. That's ridiculous. If you've read my earlier posts, you can see that this problem will never go away. Seeing as I had depression before the whole ExBF thing, that just means that my base-line depression is worse than it was before. I'll survive and learn to deal. I'm not going back to counseling, that was bullsh!t.
So, I tell my friends nothing, they are now starting to worry. That's bullsh!t too because they don't want to hear what I have to say but they feel like they need to know what's going on in my life. Oh my gosh people, pick a freakin' side! If you want to know, then deal with what I tell you. You don't have to live with it, I do. You'll survive (not you, my friends). If you tell me you don't want to know what's happening in my life and in my head, then don't frickin' ask! I have no way of winning with anyone because they don't understand that they are asking for contradictions to happen.
If one more person asks me, I'm just going to flat out tell them that the last time they asked what was going on, they tried to tell me what to do and then asked me to stop telling them things. Then they started pulling away and not being around me anymore. So, I stop telling them things, and then they want to start digging in my business again. I'm going to tell them that I can't handle learning to depend on people and then get ditched by them because they can't handle my sh!t. So, I am choosing to deal with it on my own the way I have my whole life. I will tell them that I will listen to their good and bad news, their struggles, and what they are excited about. But I am going to ask them/tell them not to be offended when I don't open up to them because I tried that and it obviously didn't work at all.
And if one more person tells me to go to counseling, sit in a chair, and start babbling on about random crap that pops into my head, I will drop kick them. I know they mean well, but I need to be able to feel like I am making decisions in my own life. They might be bad ones, but I'm learning. I can't do what everyone tells me to do because everyone tells me to do something completely different with my life and none of them have lived in my shoes. I also need to have some illusion that I have some control over what happens to me from now on.
Being sexually assaulted takes away any semblance of maybe having control over what happens to your own body, so I need to not feel out of control anymore. Honestly, everyone tries to take away what little power I have over my life and my healing by telling me what to do because they don't think I can make my own decision. That tells me that they believe it is my fault that I got into the situation I got into. They don't know how I fought, how scared I was, how my brain shut off, and I pretty much blacked out. These are all coping mechanisms and completely normal psychological responses to trauma. Hindsight, I wish I could have changed a lot of things and completely prevented it in the first place. Alas, that is not possible and right now I hate my life because of it. Don't take away my last chance of feeling like I might be able to make it through this without completely shutting down and not leaving my bed for food or water. I'm one step away from not having the strength or energy to take another breath, don't take that away from me.
I love you all (yes you, those who read my incessant babbling). I know you all mean well and want to help me. Mostly, it helps that you read this, or don't. This blog is pretty much my diary. I appreciate that I have somewhere to vent about everything, and anything that is going on in my life.
Friday, November 6, 2015
Mental Illness
Today I read a post/article about having friends and loved ones that struggle with mental illness.
11 Things Those Who Love A Person With Mental Illness Should Know
I actually found it so helpful and true that I sent it to fiance, but I so wished I could send it to all of my friends and family.
I was going through Pinterest one night at work because I was sad and sometimes it helps me to go through the depression posts on Pinterest because it lets me know that what I experience and think isn't isolated to just myself. It also helps me put words to my tendencies and feelings because sometimes it's hard to describe what I'm going through and what is happening in my head to other people.
Through this search, I found that I am not the only one that goes through isolation because their friends start asking what's wrong and they keep digging. This digging then leads to them asking me to stop talking to them about what is happening in my head because they can't handle the fraction of a percent of the darkness I share with them. I'm not alone in this. Apparently, it happens quite frequently.
So, just a note to those of you who have friends and family (everybody): don't ask if you aren't prepared to actually help and continue to hear about the darknesses and struggles in the lives of those around you. I keep having friends who see me struggling and they think they can somehow help me. Guys, I've struggled with this most of my life and I have not come across a person or thing that can help me yet. G-d helps a lot, but life happens and my head gets messed up again. That's just how it works. However, I am sick of friends and family thinking they can save me, but after a little bit, they realize they can't even deal with my struggles and so they leave me or ask me to stop talking to them. This is absolutely devastating to me and to the others that go through this.
11 Things Those Who Love A Person With Mental Illness Should Know
I actually found it so helpful and true that I sent it to fiance, but I so wished I could send it to all of my friends and family.
I was going through Pinterest one night at work because I was sad and sometimes it helps me to go through the depression posts on Pinterest because it lets me know that what I experience and think isn't isolated to just myself. It also helps me put words to my tendencies and feelings because sometimes it's hard to describe what I'm going through and what is happening in my head to other people.
Through this search, I found that I am not the only one that goes through isolation because their friends start asking what's wrong and they keep digging. This digging then leads to them asking me to stop talking to them about what is happening in my head because they can't handle the fraction of a percent of the darkness I share with them. I'm not alone in this. Apparently, it happens quite frequently.
So, just a note to those of you who have friends and family (everybody): don't ask if you aren't prepared to actually help and continue to hear about the darknesses and struggles in the lives of those around you. I keep having friends who see me struggling and they think they can somehow help me. Guys, I've struggled with this most of my life and I have not come across a person or thing that can help me yet. G-d helps a lot, but life happens and my head gets messed up again. That's just how it works. However, I am sick of friends and family thinking they can save me, but after a little bit, they realize they can't even deal with my struggles and so they leave me or ask me to stop talking to them. This is absolutely devastating to me and to the others that go through this.
- Don't get close and ask people questions if you are not entirely prepared to be able to stick with them and truly help them. They deal with their darkness just fine without you, they've likely done it for a long time.
- Don't ask them questions, give them hope of having support, and then ditch them when you start to hear just a little bit of what they have to deal with. That's cruel.
- Don't think that they be "fixed" by something you do.
- Don't give them unsolicited advice. They know what to do, they know what works best for them. It's not good to tell them (us) what to do because you don't live our life. You have a friend with chronic major depression and you have gone through a slight bout of depression? That doesn't mean you know how to "fix" this for them. Everyone goes through their mental illnesses in unique ways. You can absolutely be there for them and give advice if they ask, but don't tell them what to do.
- Don't ask them why they don't take meds, go to the doctor, or go to therapy. Professional help is good, but don't tell us what to do, that can make us shut down and when we don't do what you tell us to do, we know you're more likely to ditch us anyway.
- Don't force them to talk if they don't want to talk. Chances are, they've been burned before so they are wary of opening up to anyone else because they have seen the ugliness that that brings about in your life and theirs. So, i they don't want to talk, then don't force it.
- Don't dig. This goes along the same lines as the last one. But if they say they are fine and you know it's a lie, just leave it. I know that personally, it is easier to deal with my darkness alone and not fess up to being upset, than it is to say I'm having a bad day and then have to explain it to whoever asked.
- Don't use them. Don't use them as an excuse. Don't overextend them just because you know they will help, this can make depression and a whole host of other mental illnesses worse for the sufferer. Don't use them as an example. Just don't.
- Don't tell them to just get over it. No, we cannot just "get over it". If we could, don't you think we would have? Living with mental illness is not something we enjoy, it's way harder for us than it is for you to watch us, I promise.
- Don't think we don't know it's hard for you. I've watched people struggle with mental illness and it's rough. I understand wanting to help them but not knowing how. I know what it is like to wish that they were back to their normal self, the person that I adore and know.
- Don't play the victim. It may be hard for you to hear what we go through, but you don't have to live it and you're only hearing and seeing a tiny bit of what occurs in our heads.
- Don't take their moods personally. Sad days are going to happen regardless of whether you are there or not. Just accept that we will have bad days that have nothing to do with you even if we are with you all day.
- Don't call them crazy. That's just mean. We aren't crazy, we are just have brains that don't control their hormones at proper levels so then we have "off" days. We aren't crazy.
- Don't assume they don't know how to handle their mental illness. Oftentimes, they've dealt with their problems for a long time. Even if they haven't, they will find ways that help them or other ways that may make them worse.
- Sometimes, just sometimes, it's okay to let them have a bad day. It's okay, it's going to happen. Even if they seem like they've been getting better, bad days will happen again. Occassionally, it's alright to just let them happen. Make sure they are safe, without digging or hurting their feelings, and then ask them if they want company or to talk. Ask them if you can help in someway. If they say no, don't take it personally. If they say yes, be prepared for tough stuff and make sure you stick around and support them how they need.
- Don't make excuses to stay away from them. Are you finding yourself having a rough time dealing with what they are telling you? Don't just ditch them and don't bullshit your way out of spending time with them. You can be honest with them that what they are experiencing is difficult. Let them know that you cannot imagine going through what they are going through. Then, most importantly, reassure them that you won't leave them, no matter how hard it might be for you. Most importantly, keep the promise that you won't leave them by not leaving them. That doesn't mean stay with them 24/7, but just maintain the friendship and keep talking with them.
- Don't act weird around us, we're people too. We have feelings and personalities and we are usually fantastic to get to know! We might just have difficulties with brain chemistry or something. Be patient with us and remember who we are on our good days.
- Be patient. There are days when I don't get out of bed all day except to pee. I actually have had weekends where I sleep for a solid 3-4 days except for peeing. Leave us be and we will come out when we are ready. Sometimes we need to do other stress relieving things. I happen to take drives. I'll drive for hours to clear my head, be alone, and also listen to music. That's okay, let us do that if it helps. Sometimes I walk around stores for hours on end, just wandering. Sometimes playing piano helps or certain types of crafts. Occasionally, just being able to veg out with a children's movie is enough to help me through some of the bad times. Just let it be and we will ask for help or company when we are ready.
- Know that we value you. We understand that we are hard to be around, hard to be friends with, and difficult to love. We really do, I promise. Stick around because we appreciate you getting to know us in the first place and we would love for you to stick around with us. Hug us (after you ask if you can) if we seem to be having a hard time. We may not always verbalize it, but thank you for being with us through our ups and downs.
- Take care of yourself too. If we are saying things that stress you out, make sure you get some stress relief for yourself. Please, don't share our stories with others unless we tell you that you can. But make sure to take care of yourself so that the temptation to leave us is not as strong and you don't get burned out from being friends with us. We love you, we worry about you too which is why we usually don't want to share our burdens with you. We know it's a lot and we don't want to dump the heaviness in our hearts and the darkness in our minds onto you.
It Was Supposed to Get Better
They said
it would go away. They said that, with time, the memory would grow fainter, the
nightmares would come way less frequently, and the flashbacks would cease. THEY lied. It’s been 6 months, I still
get nightmares, the memory still jumps into my head several times a day, and
the flashbacks occur multiple times a day and seem to be getting worse.
Also, talking with a person who was
raped over 11 years ago, it doesn’t go away. The nightmares creep back into
your nights so your relief from the memories you get bombarded with is no
longer able to help you. The sensitivity to dirty jokes, certain movie scenes,
and general situational depression turned chronic does not stop. None of these
things go away.
A family member of mine was gang
raped as a young child. After 4.5 decades, she still has nightmares and
problems with it.
This nonsense will never go away.
Why do victims get false hope
instilled by the professionals in charge of helping them through it and after
it? Now, I don’t think it is on purpose, but it sucks having the hope that we will
survive and potentially “get better” when in all reality, we will deal with
this for the rest of our lives.
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Compassion Fatigue
I absolutely love working in the hospital. It is so great getting to work on so many floors with so many different nurses, CNA's, and other staff members. It makes clinicals so amazing because I already know everyone and I have gotten quite a few job offers of sorts.
After the incident with EXboyfriend, I had been going down the sleep slope of compassion fatigue. I feel like I care for everyone else, and I do so with all that I have in my heart, but nobody cares for me. Everyone demands so much of me but nobody is willing to shoulder any of my burden, they won't even listen about my burden. So, I am getting increasingly more isolated (even from "close" friends and family) and yet everyone is demanding more and more from me.
I get it, everyone has their own problems and everyone needs help. I totally understand. However, why does it seem okay for everyone to just expect everything from me? Often without even asking if I'm willing to do things, they just assume that I will be available because apparently I have no life and no needs of my own.
I'm not allowed to be selfish for one second. I have to take care of patients who need complete, total care and deal with nurses and CNA's who sometimes don't step foot in the room because the patient needs a sitter so I should be able to completely handle the patient all night long, alone.
I have to keep my shit together, not have any kind of support from anyone, be able to support everyone around me, and slap on a smile so that nobody knows what's going on in my dungeon of a mind.
So, I fight a battle nobody knows about. I have scars nobody has seen and nobody can ever understand. I am completely alone in this world carrying burdens that nobody will help me with. I carry pain with me that nobody can comprehend and I fight for every breath I take. I cry when I'm alone because for the first time in about 6 months, I am finally able to and sometimes I just need to feel something instead of the rage growing inside of me and the numbness from being completely unable to handle any of the immense troubles that weigh down every step I try to take. I am being crushed. I am being consumed absolutely alive by flames while simultaneously drowning and I get no relief anywhere or from anyone.
Oh, so this all led me to quit my job. I have to finish out another two months, or so, but I sent in my resignation letter to my boss last night during my shift. I don't know if I'll be able to be a nurse because I can't even take care of my own basic needs like sleeping or eating properly. How am I supposed to care for anyone else? My heart feels so empty anymore, I don't know if I have the capacity to care for anyone else anymore.
That was my news. Saying that I quit my job was the original purpose of this post but I went a little crazy... I'm sorry guys.
After the incident with EXboyfriend, I had been going down the sleep slope of compassion fatigue. I feel like I care for everyone else, and I do so with all that I have in my heart, but nobody cares for me. Everyone demands so much of me but nobody is willing to shoulder any of my burden, they won't even listen about my burden. So, I am getting increasingly more isolated (even from "close" friends and family) and yet everyone is demanding more and more from me.
I get it, everyone has their own problems and everyone needs help. I totally understand. However, why does it seem okay for everyone to just expect everything from me? Often without even asking if I'm willing to do things, they just assume that I will be available because apparently I have no life and no needs of my own.
- I don't have weekend plans so I can drive my 5 different friends who are on 5 completely different flights to the airport that is 2 and a half hours away, on a Friday night and Saturday morning, no less.
- Sure, I will pay attention in class while you screw around on Pinterest in the back and then give you a play-by-play of exactly what happened in class and every important piece in information you need to know.
- Sure, I will puppy sit all the puppies and not have any chance at a relaxing weekend or any chance at sleeping in.
- Sure, I will be forced to make all the decisions for my school group and friend group and then be criticized at every turn because what I finally chose doesn't work for anyone but nobody else has a fucking idea of what they want to do.
I'm not allowed to be selfish for one second. I have to take care of patients who need complete, total care and deal with nurses and CNA's who sometimes don't step foot in the room because the patient needs a sitter so I should be able to completely handle the patient all night long, alone.
I have to keep my shit together, not have any kind of support from anyone, be able to support everyone around me, and slap on a smile so that nobody knows what's going on in my dungeon of a mind.
So, I fight a battle nobody knows about. I have scars nobody has seen and nobody can ever understand. I am completely alone in this world carrying burdens that nobody will help me with. I carry pain with me that nobody can comprehend and I fight for every breath I take. I cry when I'm alone because for the first time in about 6 months, I am finally able to and sometimes I just need to feel something instead of the rage growing inside of me and the numbness from being completely unable to handle any of the immense troubles that weigh down every step I try to take. I am being crushed. I am being consumed absolutely alive by flames while simultaneously drowning and I get no relief anywhere or from anyone.
Oh, so this all led me to quit my job. I have to finish out another two months, or so, but I sent in my resignation letter to my boss last night during my shift. I don't know if I'll be able to be a nurse because I can't even take care of my own basic needs like sleeping or eating properly. How am I supposed to care for anyone else? My heart feels so empty anymore, I don't know if I have the capacity to care for anyone else anymore.
That was my news. Saying that I quit my job was the original purpose of this post but I went a little crazy... I'm sorry guys.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Irony About ER Screenings
I don't know about you, but at the hospitals I do clinicals at (there are three), the ER and most floors have a screening for domestic violence, self-harm, suicide ideation, and depression. The questions are simple:
I have been thinking a lot about this since having been in the ER as a patient and as a student nurse. We ask these questions, thinking they will be a help in some shape or form, but are they really? How easy is it to answer "no" to these questions when your heart is screaming "yes" (or vice versa, depending on the question) just because you know what will happen or you are scared to admit any of these things to yourself? When I went in, I answered appropriately to all questions to avoid the outcomes that would result upon answering any of them "incorrectly". After the assault, I was majorly depressed, I wished that G-d would allow me to die, and the temptation to begin self-harm again was at an all-time high. However, I knew that saying any of these things in the hospital would result in me actually being admitted to the hospital for a few days so that they can see if you're emotionally and mentally able to be released out into the world. So, what good do these questions really do? I have seen so many nurses go into a room and not ask these questions to the patients because the nurse felt it was unnecessary to do so.
In my last med/surg clinical group, my instructor brought up a good point about getting help for depression and suicide: there aren't really great systems to get help. If you go somewhere and say you're depressed and struggling to not hurt/kill yourself, people will lock you away, then you learn to not seek help for your emotional struggles which will likely lead to suicide. If you go somewhere to talk to a counselor, professor, or whomever else you choose to confide your struggles to, you can explain your symptoms of depression, but leave out that you are struggling to stay alive, but then you cannot receive the help you truly need because you have one of the deepest, darkest secrets that will eat a hole right through you until you either end up dying, or you somehow find hope to survive long enough to get out of the depression.
For me, the depression lasts years. I don't go anywhere for help because counseling didn't work in the past, I know what happens if you say the wrong thing and I'm scared of going through that, friends don't know how to support me when I can't figure out how to be happy, and nobody understands, they think I'm being dramatic and a whiner. So, I live with the knowledge of the things I've done, I wear the scars, and I battle with myself daily. When friends ask what is wrong, they usually persist in the beginning of the friendship to figure out what is happening in my mind, once they find out, they stop asking and I stop telling. This usually causes big rifts and eventually we move on from each other. Yet, I am still saddled with the constant war, fatigue, struggles to remain alive, sleeping for several days straight to escape without dying, distracting myself when I feel so numb that I know hurting myself would at least offer a chance at coming back to reality and feeling something, and I deal with it all by myself because people don't stick around once they get a glimpse of the darkness they tried so hard to uncover.
That's probably one of the hardest things to deal with: losing friends because they don't feel close if you don't tell them every single thing that runs through your brain, but once they figure out what you deal with then they no longer want anything to do with you. I end up feeling used, hurt, sad, angry, more depressed, and I deal with a lot of guilt because they tell me how hard it is to watch me and listen to me go through my depression cycles. I've watched a lot of people cry at my expense because of that and I am about to lose another roommate because of that.
In my defense, I try to keep it a secret and keep it at bay. Pretending to be happy and carefree is not all that hard, but my face doesn't keep secrets at all and so they start digging. It happens every time I get a friend and we start to get close. Going through this just makes me want to stay superficial with everyone I meet because they like me when it's just a "hey, how are you?" kind of friendship. Unfortunately, girls don't really stand around and bullshit like guys do, they want to explore feelings, family life, and other happenings that involve deeper levels of intimacy. And so, the cycle continues and it pushes me deeper and deeper into my pit. I keep more secrets from everybody, and I refuse to trust anyone because everybody lies.
So, that is where I am and what I've been thinking about for several months now. Something needs to be done in this country to fix the "suicide prevention" system that is currently in place because there are an awful lot of suicides and even more suicidal people out there and nobody seems to be getting much help where they feel safe to share what's truly going on in their minds. I want to change things, but I don't even know where to begin. Maybe it could prevent deaths like Country Boy's, maybe he could have had a better chance.
- Do you feel safe at home?
- Do you feel safe in your relationship?
- Are you depressed or feel down?
- Do you harm yourself?
- Do you ever wish that you would die or try to kill yourself?
I have been thinking a lot about this since having been in the ER as a patient and as a student nurse. We ask these questions, thinking they will be a help in some shape or form, but are they really? How easy is it to answer "no" to these questions when your heart is screaming "yes" (or vice versa, depending on the question) just because you know what will happen or you are scared to admit any of these things to yourself? When I went in, I answered appropriately to all questions to avoid the outcomes that would result upon answering any of them "incorrectly". After the assault, I was majorly depressed, I wished that G-d would allow me to die, and the temptation to begin self-harm again was at an all-time high. However, I knew that saying any of these things in the hospital would result in me actually being admitted to the hospital for a few days so that they can see if you're emotionally and mentally able to be released out into the world. So, what good do these questions really do? I have seen so many nurses go into a room and not ask these questions to the patients because the nurse felt it was unnecessary to do so.
In my last med/surg clinical group, my instructor brought up a good point about getting help for depression and suicide: there aren't really great systems to get help. If you go somewhere and say you're depressed and struggling to not hurt/kill yourself, people will lock you away, then you learn to not seek help for your emotional struggles which will likely lead to suicide. If you go somewhere to talk to a counselor, professor, or whomever else you choose to confide your struggles to, you can explain your symptoms of depression, but leave out that you are struggling to stay alive, but then you cannot receive the help you truly need because you have one of the deepest, darkest secrets that will eat a hole right through you until you either end up dying, or you somehow find hope to survive long enough to get out of the depression.
For me, the depression lasts years. I don't go anywhere for help because counseling didn't work in the past, I know what happens if you say the wrong thing and I'm scared of going through that, friends don't know how to support me when I can't figure out how to be happy, and nobody understands, they think I'm being dramatic and a whiner. So, I live with the knowledge of the things I've done, I wear the scars, and I battle with myself daily. When friends ask what is wrong, they usually persist in the beginning of the friendship to figure out what is happening in my mind, once they find out, they stop asking and I stop telling. This usually causes big rifts and eventually we move on from each other. Yet, I am still saddled with the constant war, fatigue, struggles to remain alive, sleeping for several days straight to escape without dying, distracting myself when I feel so numb that I know hurting myself would at least offer a chance at coming back to reality and feeling something, and I deal with it all by myself because people don't stick around once they get a glimpse of the darkness they tried so hard to uncover.
That's probably one of the hardest things to deal with: losing friends because they don't feel close if you don't tell them every single thing that runs through your brain, but once they figure out what you deal with then they no longer want anything to do with you. I end up feeling used, hurt, sad, angry, more depressed, and I deal with a lot of guilt because they tell me how hard it is to watch me and listen to me go through my depression cycles. I've watched a lot of people cry at my expense because of that and I am about to lose another roommate because of that.
In my defense, I try to keep it a secret and keep it at bay. Pretending to be happy and carefree is not all that hard, but my face doesn't keep secrets at all and so they start digging. It happens every time I get a friend and we start to get close. Going through this just makes me want to stay superficial with everyone I meet because they like me when it's just a "hey, how are you?" kind of friendship. Unfortunately, girls don't really stand around and bullshit like guys do, they want to explore feelings, family life, and other happenings that involve deeper levels of intimacy. And so, the cycle continues and it pushes me deeper and deeper into my pit. I keep more secrets from everybody, and I refuse to trust anyone because everybody lies.
So, that is where I am and what I've been thinking about for several months now. Something needs to be done in this country to fix the "suicide prevention" system that is currently in place because there are an awful lot of suicides and even more suicidal people out there and nobody seems to be getting much help where they feel safe to share what's truly going on in their minds. I want to change things, but I don't even know where to begin. Maybe it could prevent deaths like Country Boy's, maybe he could have had a better chance.
Monday, September 21, 2015
The Break
In lieu of LOTS of recent fights with the fiance, I suggested a break. I learned a couple of things today: 1) many of us, including myself, do not believe in breaks (I knew this before but right now, I feel it is appropriate) 2) there are great misunderstandings between genders as to what a "break" in a relationship is.
Do you guys watch Friends? I hope you do, it's a delightful show. Anyway, Ross and Rachel start dating and they start having a lot of problems. Rachel decides she needs a break. To her, this means they simply do not talk for awhile. For Ross, a break means that the relationship is on pause but it is like a break-up so he can now go see/sleep with other people. And so he does... and then Rachel is devastated and hurt and angry. This whole fiasco is simply because of the differences in understanding between genders.
To me, a break is where the relationship is still intact, but the couple is simply not talking to each other for a time so that they can hopefully both do some thinking and reevaluating. To fiance, a break means that we are broken up. I cleared the air and explained what I was actually wanting in addition to calling it a break but he got all sorts of upset and angry because he thought I was breaking up with him (for the third time). Now, I get why he would be hurt, especially with it being the third time, but I feel like I was clear when I told him what I was expecting a break to be and what I needed from this time. After the air was clear and he was understanding that we are simply not talking for a few days/weeks we hung up the phone and that was that.
Not even 5 hours later, and as I was writing this post in rage, he called. The terms of the break was that I would call him when I have thought about my stuff and after I was ready to talk to him whenever that happened to be in the next few weeks. He called and told me he couldn't live without me. It's going to take some time for him to prove that to me because I am tired of not being treated right. However, I move forward with cautious optimism. I pray that our relationship works, but I know that I am strong and self-sufficient and I do not need a man. They are a blessing, and we learn a lot by being tied to another human being in such a way as marriage, but being single has it's blessings too.
Interesting turn of events, I really wasn't expecting any of that. I was literally just about to start on the last paragraph (starting with: "not even 5 hours later"; but it wasn't going to be written to start out that way...) and he called.
Y'all, please pray for me and pray for fiance. We need tender hearts to be able to serve each other and listen to the L-rd. We both need the L-rd, desperately.
Meanwhile, I could desperately use a break from school. I am beyond stressed out, my days are running together, and I have so many assignments due all the time! I ended up dropping my sexual assault class because I was getting nightmares and flashbacks. Needless to say, the Professor and Dean approved the dropping of the course. So, I now have more time!
New Roommate is so absolutely supportive. She listened to me rant and rave and be sad and depressed and angry and everything for about 2-3 hours today. She just sits there and listens and encourages me. She knows everything that has happened, watches me when I can't leave my bed for days on end, and she still has such a tender spot to try to help me through all of this by allowing me to ask her for what I need her to do. Oftentimes, I simply ask her to listen. Sometimes I ask her for advice and she helps to "nurse" me back to being semi-mentally healthy by helping me find ways to stay busy, encouraging me to spend time out of the house doing activities I enjoy, making sure I am eating and she even assessed my self-harm ideation status because she knows I've had a rough past, even though she didn't know how rough until she asked if I had ever had those thoughts. I am almost certain she has no idea I have tried to kill myself on several occasions back in 8th grade. Guys, she is so sweet and tender and I don't want to ruin her with my cynicism and anger at the world and at life. However, I am so beyond grateful for the way G-d has allowed her and I to meet each others needs when we both needed roommates and how we've been able to pour into each others lives with the love and G-dly advice only Believers can give to each other. Now, she is Catholic and I am Messianic Jewish, but we serve the same G-d and believe in the same Messiah. We are called to love each other and that is certainly what I plan to do because I absolutely adore her!
Do you guys watch Friends? I hope you do, it's a delightful show. Anyway, Ross and Rachel start dating and they start having a lot of problems. Rachel decides she needs a break. To her, this means they simply do not talk for awhile. For Ross, a break means that the relationship is on pause but it is like a break-up so he can now go see/sleep with other people. And so he does... and then Rachel is devastated and hurt and angry. This whole fiasco is simply because of the differences in understanding between genders.
To me, a break is where the relationship is still intact, but the couple is simply not talking to each other for a time so that they can hopefully both do some thinking and reevaluating. To fiance, a break means that we are broken up. I cleared the air and explained what I was actually wanting in addition to calling it a break but he got all sorts of upset and angry because he thought I was breaking up with him (for the third time). Now, I get why he would be hurt, especially with it being the third time, but I feel like I was clear when I told him what I was expecting a break to be and what I needed from this time. After the air was clear and he was understanding that we are simply not talking for a few days/weeks we hung up the phone and that was that.
Not even 5 hours later, and as I was writing this post in rage, he called. The terms of the break was that I would call him when I have thought about my stuff and after I was ready to talk to him whenever that happened to be in the next few weeks. He called and told me he couldn't live without me. It's going to take some time for him to prove that to me because I am tired of not being treated right. However, I move forward with cautious optimism. I pray that our relationship works, but I know that I am strong and self-sufficient and I do not need a man. They are a blessing, and we learn a lot by being tied to another human being in such a way as marriage, but being single has it's blessings too.
Interesting turn of events, I really wasn't expecting any of that. I was literally just about to start on the last paragraph (starting with: "not even 5 hours later"; but it wasn't going to be written to start out that way...) and he called.
Y'all, please pray for me and pray for fiance. We need tender hearts to be able to serve each other and listen to the L-rd. We both need the L-rd, desperately.
Meanwhile, I could desperately use a break from school. I am beyond stressed out, my days are running together, and I have so many assignments due all the time! I ended up dropping my sexual assault class because I was getting nightmares and flashbacks. Needless to say, the Professor and Dean approved the dropping of the course. So, I now have more time!
New Roommate is so absolutely supportive. She listened to me rant and rave and be sad and depressed and angry and everything for about 2-3 hours today. She just sits there and listens and encourages me. She knows everything that has happened, watches me when I can't leave my bed for days on end, and she still has such a tender spot to try to help me through all of this by allowing me to ask her for what I need her to do. Oftentimes, I simply ask her to listen. Sometimes I ask her for advice and she helps to "nurse" me back to being semi-mentally healthy by helping me find ways to stay busy, encouraging me to spend time out of the house doing activities I enjoy, making sure I am eating and she even assessed my self-harm ideation status because she knows I've had a rough past, even though she didn't know how rough until she asked if I had ever had those thoughts. I am almost certain she has no idea I have tried to kill myself on several occasions back in 8th grade. Guys, she is so sweet and tender and I don't want to ruin her with my cynicism and anger at the world and at life. However, I am so beyond grateful for the way G-d has allowed her and I to meet each others needs when we both needed roommates and how we've been able to pour into each others lives with the love and G-dly advice only Believers can give to each other. Now, she is Catholic and I am Messianic Jewish, but we serve the same G-d and believe in the same Messiah. We are called to love each other and that is certainly what I plan to do because I absolutely adore her!
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Shock of the Week
For my last week of clinicals, the census was ridiculously low on my clinical floor. I'm talking 11 patients between two nurses and many of those patients were going to get discharged throughout the day. Crazy low! So, my clinical group, all three of us, were placed on a different floor.
The day was going really well. I got to hang a bunch of IV stuff, give some shots, see chest tubes, and do all sorts of fun stuff with an excellent nurse. I made it to the end of the day and walked to the other end of the extremely large unit. Guess who I run into! EXboyfriend's mom... She was super sweet and I asked what she was doing there. We chatted for a little bit and I asked if EXboyfriend had told her we had broken up. She said that he had and that when I get a job opportunity, I just have to take it. She said he was bummed about it but she encouraged me to go where work was. I was so confused! After she left, I texted him to let him know I had seen her and to ask him what he was telling people as far as the reason we had broken up. He blamed it on my decision to move to another state after graduation because I already have a job pretty much lined up at Mema's hospital. He asked if I was ma about the story. I told him that I'm not upset with the story because it keeps it simple and I can roll with that, even though it is an absolute lie.
Meanwhile, it is killing me that he doesn't even know the hoops I have had to jump through, the no eating, the nausea, the ER visit, the ER bill, the contraception pill, the nightmares, and everything else that I am having to go through. Yes, I have support from friends, Mom, and my brother ended up guessing what EXbf had done because I sorta let a little something slip when I had been drinking a little bit and he was my designated driver... I am also signed up for counseling... Anyway, EXbf knows nothing of my misery because he couldn't keep it in his pants and keep his promise to me. I just want to tell him, I just want him to hear the pain in my voice, the anger that he stole my future, me crying on the other end of the phone. Even all of this would do the whole process of my grief and pain no justice, but then he would know and I wouldn't be bearing this burden in complete secret while he is simply upset that I broke up with him. I'm not only going through a breakup, I'm dealing with the aftermath of sexual assault and I will be stuck with that for the rest of my life.
I had been doing okay, and then I saw his mom.
The day was going really well. I got to hang a bunch of IV stuff, give some shots, see chest tubes, and do all sorts of fun stuff with an excellent nurse. I made it to the end of the day and walked to the other end of the extremely large unit. Guess who I run into! EXboyfriend's mom... She was super sweet and I asked what she was doing there. We chatted for a little bit and I asked if EXboyfriend had told her we had broken up. She said that he had and that when I get a job opportunity, I just have to take it. She said he was bummed about it but she encouraged me to go where work was. I was so confused! After she left, I texted him to let him know I had seen her and to ask him what he was telling people as far as the reason we had broken up. He blamed it on my decision to move to another state after graduation because I already have a job pretty much lined up at Mema's hospital. He asked if I was ma about the story. I told him that I'm not upset with the story because it keeps it simple and I can roll with that, even though it is an absolute lie.
Meanwhile, it is killing me that he doesn't even know the hoops I have had to jump through, the no eating, the nausea, the ER visit, the ER bill, the contraception pill, the nightmares, and everything else that I am having to go through. Yes, I have support from friends, Mom, and my brother ended up guessing what EXbf had done because I sorta let a little something slip when I had been drinking a little bit and he was my designated driver... I am also signed up for counseling... Anyway, EXbf knows nothing of my misery because he couldn't keep it in his pants and keep his promise to me. I just want to tell him, I just want him to hear the pain in my voice, the anger that he stole my future, me crying on the other end of the phone. Even all of this would do the whole process of my grief and pain no justice, but then he would know and I wouldn't be bearing this burden in complete secret while he is simply upset that I broke up with him. I'm not only going through a breakup, I'm dealing with the aftermath of sexual assault and I will be stuck with that for the rest of my life.
I had been doing okay, and then I saw his mom.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Just a Little Story
There was once a girl who was a little lonely and hoping for a boy to come along that she could marry, but she was independent and mostly happy alone.
One day, she decided to go to a dance out in the country with her roommate, roommate's family, and some of her own family as well.
She hadn't danced with anyone all night until a boy came up and asked her. He asked for her number and they eventually began dating.
They were hanging out one weekend and he took it too far. She repeatedly told him no and to stop, but he did not.
She broke up with him.
She went to the ER for a sane exam a few days later. The nurses were very sweet and she found support and reassurance.
They told her it was not her fault. She learned she is not pregnant and she was fully examined to ensure no physical trauma was present.
Though she must now deal with this brokeness for the rest of her life and she will now have to explain it to her future husband, she has faith the L-rd redeems and brings beauty from the ashes. She's not okay, but she will be okay again one day.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Living with Regret
At one point or another, we all do something we regret. It could be taking a candy bar from the store, saying something that ends up hurting someone else, or going back on a personal promise made to G-d. I think I've done them all, but the last one is really getting to me. I kissed a boy before my wedding day.
Now, this isn't really a big deal. It was just a kiss and it's not like I dropped my pants and gave the guy my everything. Even then, it wouldn't be the end of the world. So why am I losing sleep over this small act? Why is it that I can have a lovely weekend with the boy, kissing him every once in awhile, and think nothing of it while I'm with him. Yet, as soon as I get in the car, my heart sinks to the floor and I am left with this nagging pain in my gut. I am faced with a whisper saying that I gave my first kiss away because I wasn't strong enough to maintain my boundaries. This is the voice of the enemy, but I cannot silence him because I have strayed from the L-rd. I have wandered outside of His flock in search of a love that only He can give and now I've given a piece of myself that I was saving for my husband.
No doubt the L-rd forgives. L-rd willing, my future husband will forgive me as well. Still, I cannot help but wish I could go back in the past and change that moment. Go back and not have given it away. But alas, G-d allows us to learn from our mistakes and move forward into the next set of mistakes. We are blessed to have a teaching G-d who also forgives when we mess up. Now I just wonder how to fix this. I don't know if I can.
My fear is of breaking hearts. I am terrified that life will become awkward and difficult in my small town situation with my life so intertwined with his. This is why I don't date, I can't handle hurting anyone else so I stay even if I hurt in the process.
I have to confess that I almost started cutting the other night. This is not healthy. I didn't do it, but the urge was stronger than I've felt since before my extremely rough season in 8th grade. My nausea and dizziness have resurfaced and my happiness (not joy, just superficial happiness) has disappeared. In it's wake, I am left hurting and scared. This happiness was just a momentary false front from the excitement that a boy was showing interest in me. I should not be depending on this in order to feel wanted, but I fell for it again. (P.S. I talked to Boyfriend and Beauty about the cutting ideations. I'm not going down that road again.)
Now, this isn't really a big deal. It was just a kiss and it's not like I dropped my pants and gave the guy my everything. Even then, it wouldn't be the end of the world. So why am I losing sleep over this small act? Why is it that I can have a lovely weekend with the boy, kissing him every once in awhile, and think nothing of it while I'm with him. Yet, as soon as I get in the car, my heart sinks to the floor and I am left with this nagging pain in my gut. I am faced with a whisper saying that I gave my first kiss away because I wasn't strong enough to maintain my boundaries. This is the voice of the enemy, but I cannot silence him because I have strayed from the L-rd. I have wandered outside of His flock in search of a love that only He can give and now I've given a piece of myself that I was saving for my husband.
No doubt the L-rd forgives. L-rd willing, my future husband will forgive me as well. Still, I cannot help but wish I could go back in the past and change that moment. Go back and not have given it away. But alas, G-d allows us to learn from our mistakes and move forward into the next set of mistakes. We are blessed to have a teaching G-d who also forgives when we mess up. Now I just wonder how to fix this. I don't know if I can.
My fear is of breaking hearts. I am terrified that life will become awkward and difficult in my small town situation with my life so intertwined with his. This is why I don't date, I can't handle hurting anyone else so I stay even if I hurt in the process.
I have to confess that I almost started cutting the other night. This is not healthy. I didn't do it, but the urge was stronger than I've felt since before my extremely rough season in 8th grade. My nausea and dizziness have resurfaced and my happiness (not joy, just superficial happiness) has disappeared. In it's wake, I am left hurting and scared. This happiness was just a momentary false front from the excitement that a boy was showing interest in me. I should not be depending on this in order to feel wanted, but I fell for it again. (P.S. I talked to Boyfriend and Beauty about the cutting ideations. I'm not going down that road again.)
Monday, March 30, 2015
Suicide Anniversary
Friends, I have made it a year since Country Boy committed suicide. Granted, I didn't learn about it until April 9, but we are celebrating me surviving a very rough year in my life.
I want to hang out with people today to keep my mind occupied but everybody's busy. Oh well, I'm surviving the day and only cried for about 30 seconds twice. That's pretty good!
I was told today by Beauty that I am made of "wife material". What is that? She said that because every guy that goes out with me is convinced he needs to marry me. Is that just because that's what guys do or is that because of me? Boyfriend told me I'm the best girlfriend he's had (out of 3-4 before me) but I don't know what that means either.
We got to go shooting this weekend and out of like 20-30 clays that we launched, I hit one. ONE! That's terrible! The first time I went shooting I hit all but 2-3 out of 20. Good gracious I've gotten worse. I also got to help feed the cows! Oh my gosh, I love cows. There are new little babies that are only about a week old and they get so excited they start running around with each other for no reason. So cute! They gave me cow kisses. I like cow kisses. The older ones also follow me around and that was even before I gave them cake/treats! Ugh, I just cannot get enough of them.
Also, I got a letter in the mail today telling me I got a scholarship for $3500! I wish I would have applied to more last year because this scholarship is usually not given for more than about $1000-$2000 so maybe I could have gotten a lot more help last year and stayed out of such huge debt. Oh well, the L-rd will provide for me to get out of my crazy debt. Yay! In order to get the scholarship, I even had to have an interview. Since I was at clinicals the only day they had the interviews, they ended up allowing me to have a phone interview. I was so scared they didn't like me or that they weren't happy about having to do it over the phone but they gave me such a big award. L-rd willing I will get lots of other scholarships and maybe be able to start paying off some of my interest on the unsubsidized loans I've had to take out.
So, my rough day is getting better and I'm much stronger than I was a year ago. My life has changed dramatically from that point. Granted, I thought my world was turned upside down because Brother told me he was moving out, a week later I broke up with the boy I was "trying" a relationship with, and then Country Boy killed himself a week after the break up. That on top of a very long, really bad bout with depression, two jobs, and a general life meltdown, I was not in a good place at all.
I want to hang out with people today to keep my mind occupied but everybody's busy. Oh well, I'm surviving the day and only cried for about 30 seconds twice. That's pretty good!
I was told today by Beauty that I am made of "wife material". What is that? She said that because every guy that goes out with me is convinced he needs to marry me. Is that just because that's what guys do or is that because of me? Boyfriend told me I'm the best girlfriend he's had (out of 3-4 before me) but I don't know what that means either.
We got to go shooting this weekend and out of like 20-30 clays that we launched, I hit one. ONE! That's terrible! The first time I went shooting I hit all but 2-3 out of 20. Good gracious I've gotten worse. I also got to help feed the cows! Oh my gosh, I love cows. There are new little babies that are only about a week old and they get so excited they start running around with each other for no reason. So cute! They gave me cow kisses. I like cow kisses. The older ones also follow me around and that was even before I gave them cake/treats! Ugh, I just cannot get enough of them.
Also, I got a letter in the mail today telling me I got a scholarship for $3500! I wish I would have applied to more last year because this scholarship is usually not given for more than about $1000-$2000 so maybe I could have gotten a lot more help last year and stayed out of such huge debt. Oh well, the L-rd will provide for me to get out of my crazy debt. Yay! In order to get the scholarship, I even had to have an interview. Since I was at clinicals the only day they had the interviews, they ended up allowing me to have a phone interview. I was so scared they didn't like me or that they weren't happy about having to do it over the phone but they gave me such a big award. L-rd willing I will get lots of other scholarships and maybe be able to start paying off some of my interest on the unsubsidized loans I've had to take out.
So, my rough day is getting better and I'm much stronger than I was a year ago. My life has changed dramatically from that point. Granted, I thought my world was turned upside down because Brother told me he was moving out, a week later I broke up with the boy I was "trying" a relationship with, and then Country Boy killed himself a week after the break up. That on top of a very long, really bad bout with depression, two jobs, and a general life meltdown, I was not in a good place at all.
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