Let’s Try this Again…

It’s been 8 or so months since I have posted anything. I quickly got out of the habit and got stuck in the surviving way of living again. Just going through the motions, not really living. My life has taken a new road over the past year or so. Things are on an up swing. Slow but an up swing nonetheless. I have a good life when I don’t overthink or allow myself to be overly emotional.

I had hit a rough spot there for a minute and while I was trying to pull myself up, I asked God to allow me to be a blessing to someone. Then I realized that there are many ways and forms of encouraging others with what I have or am waking through and I remembered this blog and my purpose for it.

So once again, I want to put things out there, mostly good, in the hopes that people who have gone through what I have, can realize, see, believe, that good can come out of it all.

One major moment happened a few weeks ago that at the time seemed small that I would like to share. I have shared with you before that I was abused sexually as a child. When one goes through something like that you really only have two choices , in my opinion, you can let it make you or break you. For the longest time, I unfortunately was letting it break me.

As of now, with my financial circumstances am required to hold two jobs. I have a full time design job and a part time retail job. I had stopped into my part time job one day and the shift supervisor asked me to come in and work for a few hours because she was having a problem with a co-worker. During the conversation she confided in me that she suffers from anxiety and didn’t want to be on medication to coup with it. I told her that I understood because I as well suffered from anxiety and also chose not to take medication.

She asked me what I did so I wouldn’t have to take medication. I simply told her “I gave it to God.” She looks at me for a second and then she once again confided in me more of her story. She told me that she as well had been sexually abuse as a child. Oh, how my heart hurt for her. I continued to listen to more of her story as she told me what she had been through and what she was going through now. After I listened for a while she once again asked, “how do you get over it, how do you deal with it, how do you move past it?” I repeated myself, “I gave it to God and I continually give it to God.” And then without even giving it a second thought I shared with her some of my story and how I had been abused.

I was proud of myself in a sense, because it was the first time that I had told my story to a complete and total stranger that I have been abused. I was proud of myself because while I was telling this stranger what happened to me, and the shame and guilt that I carried around for so many years, I didn’t cry. Didn’t have any shame about it. I started to tell her a little bit about my journey with God and how meeting my pastor changed my life, but of course I didn’t know it at the time. I told her how I was so turned off by religion and religious leaders and I really had no interest in God. And then I told her more about my journey and the change within me when I started go to church and listen and actively try to change myself on the inside. I made it clear to her that there is still work within me to be done but that I had made so many positive changes over the past few years because I was able to get to know God and who He really is and in a way I never knew was possible.

I told her how I was always depressed and anxious and withdrawn from life and people. Just going through the motions of living, stuck in a rut, not really living. And how I was a totally different person today than I was a few years ago. And that if she could put her trust in God even a little bit that in time she wouldn’t have to carry that weight that she continues to now.

When I finish speaking she had this look on her face for moment, this look of relief. That brief moment of relief on her face somehow helped me heal inside a little.

I have a voice, God has given me a voice, at times I resist using that voice, but I shouldn’t. See, I’m naturally very quiet, don’t speak up, speak unnecessarily and that’s OK. But, when I choose not to use the voice that God has given me, that’s unfortunate, for me and others. The weeks following it seemed like I was being attacked by Satan and I allowed him too quiet that voice God gave me.

I don’t know what God has planned for me and on some level I find that exciting. It’s hard to let go of control as an adult when you never had safety as a child. So once again, I come to a crossroads in my life, and ask myself, “is it going to break me or make me?”


Back and Forth I Go…

I realize it has been months since I have posted anything.  I get so caught up in life that sometimes I forget to live.  Back and forth, up and down that is the story of my life.  I have always been an emotional and sensitive person my whole life.  It is an exhausting way to live believe me.  I have been in and out of therapy and on and off medications most of my life.  It’s never really gotten far except.  I am a hot mess in every sense of the word.  I really do hate it.

These past few years have been what seems like the worse it has ever been.  Family, work, losing someone I loved like a mother, having surgery and losing mass about of weight and I think falling in love with someone who in the end couldn’t be a man to me.  The last one is hard to admit.  It makes me cry a little.

Let’s take a step back.  We have talked about how my family want’s nothing to do with me.  I have grown a lot in regards to how they choose to treat me.  I don’t carry guilt around about it like I use to. Also, I don’t carry the anger.  It is so freeing not to have to have that on my head.  I love them all from a distance.  I try to show them all love and honor, mostly by not talking negatively about them at all.  Sometimes it works.

I lost a dear friend of mine, had surgery and started a new job, not the job I wanted but a job. The weight lose went great.  Physically I felt great, I looked good too, everyday was a change.  I am finally started to look at myself in the mirror and see me and be okay with it.

The hardest thing I have had to deal with of late is attention from men and what I should do with it.  The flirting (or at least I think it is, I never really know) the subtle comments, the some of them look at me.  When they come right out and tell me I’m sexy.  I don’t like it most times I feel dirty when they do.  It’s not really fair.  I told you about the supervisor that I fell for.  All the details.  I can’t seem to move on from him.  I wake up in the morning thinking about and through out the day into night and then it starts all over again.

Is it possible to meet someone, only get to know a little about them and just know this is the person for you?  All I ever got from him was mixed message.  He would go out of his way to do things for me.  He gave me more attention then one supervisor should give one person.  I don’t think I am wrong when I say that the reason they removed him from that position was because of the attention he was giving me.  It didn’t stop after he was no longer the supervisor either.  That’s when he started saying things to me and I got excited and I felt good about it.  It wasn’t like the other. He never came out and told me I was sexy the most was “cute.”

Can someone be that dense?  He knew I had feeling for him when I asked him out.  Why did he say yes?  He knew.  It change the first time so fast I didn’t know what hit me.  Then he came back and then left and back again.  He flat out told me no, but after a while his actions didn’t stick to his words.  I eventually ended up quitting that job. I got a job in the field I went to school for.  It’s so nice to get to design everyday.

About a month before I quit he started again.  He spent about a half hour of work and this air hose wand trying to fix it when it was not necessary.  There was another one up against the wall that was working I could of used.  But he insisted on spending all this time fixing it.  While he was working on it we were talking and he said that he likes to fix things.  I told him I like to create things.  Then I told him that I had broken my utility knife.  He asked me if I needed a better one.  Told him no that I took one that was lying around the shop. He then pulled out a Craftsman jack knife utility knife and gave it to me.  He quickly told me “not to ask him why he had 2 on him.”  And then walked away from me.  I went into the office that was emptied and cried a little.  I was so confused.  It was almost at the end of our shift at this point.

On my way home I decided I need to talk to him about this that is was confusing and hurting me. I had deleted his number a while ago so I called a co-worker and asked her for it.  She thought that I had car problems or something, I let her think that.  I decided not to ext him but instead talk face to face.  I was late to work the next day because of a doctors appointment.  He came into the my part of the shop and said to me, “I heard you were looking for me?” I told him that I wanted to talk to him.  He didn’t he me right and thought that I had said that I needed to talk to someone last night and the way he said it was like he felt touched that I was going to go to him.

Well, I told him that the things that he has been saying and doing over the past few weeks were confusing to me.  He told me that he was just being nice.  He then said, “Now, look there is someone out there for you and it’s not me.”  I told him that he was hurting me.  He offered to give me personal space.  That lasted about 2-3 days and he started again.

Not long after that I quit.  I had, had that new job for a while and couldn’t work both jobs anymore.  And the shop job was just too much physical and emotionally for me to do anymore.  I kind of throw my boss and the a couple people under the bus one night and didn’t go back.  I knew that night I wasn’t going to come back but I gave it the weekend but didn’t change my mind.  I had told a couple people at work that night that I had gotten a new job and more then likely wouldn’t be back on Monday. I tried to tell him a couple times but chickened out. I friend of mine there told him for me.  It didn’t take long for him to come into that walking rather fast to talk to me.

I guess we left it on good terms, he told me he had enjoyed working with me and that I deserved better. I felt as though he wanted to say more he kept trying to step away and then came back and stepped away and back.  But never said anything.  I really expected to here from him after but I never did.  It’s hurts, it really hurts.  I really care for this man.  How much of a fool am I?  I just want the pain to go away…

Three Things That Happened

I realize that I started my last post talking about PTSD and then went off on a tangent about things that have been bottled up inside for a while. When I said I am taking things into my own hands I meant that I am trying to understand why I react to certain things in certain ways. I purchased a workbook about PTSD and have started to read it and answer the questions that are asked. Not gonna lie, it’s not easy.

While going through just the first 20 or so pages, I have come to realize that at one point I was on some level starting to heal. Then something changed and it’s like I am back at the age of 10 with all this anxiety and depression. I’m not exactly sure what triggered this change in my personality in the last year and a half but I am truly going through a change of season in my life.

There are three big things that have happened that my have impacted me. One, stemming from the abuse as a child I really worked hard at keeping guys and the attention from guys away from me to the point that I unconsciously put on a lot of weight and then worked at putting on more weight to the point that I was almost 400 pounds. So the situation with health insurance and other things I was able to have gastric sleeve surgery. Now I am down to 185 pounds and am getting attention from men. I look good, like the person I was meant to be. However, there are times I look in the mirror and don’t really recognize myself.

Before, the surgery on Christmas Day of 2014 the lady I had been taking care of for almost 5 years, died. She was like a mother to me in a lot of ways. Her daughter was and still is like a sister to me. It hit me hard, not at first it took couple months but it hurt, sometimes still does. I saw Mary, the daughter, missing her mother so much and would do anything to see her mother again, but mine, she wants nothing to do with me.

The third thing that happened is I started a new job and fell for my supervisor, I told you about him before. I think the combination of the three sent me into a down ward spiral.

I recently came to the realization that I am playing the victim and that I don’t want to anymore. I want to hold myself accountable for my life and go after what I want. Not just sit back and hope thing turn out the way I want without taking an active role in my life.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

I have known for a while that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). However it has never really been explained to me in helpful detail. So, I am taking matters in to my own hands. I have been in and out of therapy since the day I turned 18. The sexual abuse happen when I was much younger. I don’t remember when it started. I do know that it stopped around Christmas when I was 10. The reason I did not receive the professional help that I so desperately required, was because of religion.

I was raised in a cult like religion called Jehovah Witnesses, perhaps you have heard of them? In an attempt to not bring reproach upon the name of this cult, I mean religion I was told not to talk about it to anyone or my brother would go to jail and there would be a trial and I wouldn’t be able to handle it. That if it went public and the people in the small town I lived in knew, I would be judged. I was told that when I would walk down the street people would call me names and the sort.

I remember that conversation with my mom, if you can call it a conversation? She basically scared me into submission and to keep the abuse and my feelings inside me and not talk about them. It was hard to express myself to anyone from simple things, like can I have a glass of milk to even more important matters. It always seemed to me that what was important to me was never important to my mother or that it just didn’t matter.

I don’t mean to pick or put all the blame on my mother, she did the best she could at the time. My dad, not around much, he preferred to work then be with the family he never wanted. I am trying to work through this anger for my mom, it’s not easy at all. She did do what she thought was right at the time with the information she had.

In terms of family life and how we turned out, we like so many others are MESSED UP!

Let’s start with my oldest sister, 48 years old still lives at home with my mom. My brother, should be in jail for molesting my little sister and me. Married a harpy of a women who just tares him down but he allows it. The sister before me, married at a young age of 19. The engagement lasted longer then the marriage. He was physically and sexually abusive to her, he felt that because she was his wife he could take what he wanted when he wanted. It took her almost 10 years to move on from that experience, she did remarry at the age of 31 to a man that was 11 years younger then her. They have a little girl now. Then me, we will get into me later, but then there’s my baby sister.

I think she is the worse of us all, poor thing. I still to this day struggle with guilt that I didn’t protect her. When she turned 21 she had a psychotic break. She ended up being put into the psych ward at a hospital and then was in and out of half way homes because she kept trying to kill herself. There was an incident once where my mother was driving 55 miles an hour down the road one day taking my sister to one of these homes and she tried to jump out of the car. My mother still doesn’t know how she kept her from jumping while controlling the car.

My sister was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, delusional with multiple personalities. Like I said she suffered so much and it destroyed her and the person she was meant to be. I know my mom did what she thought was best, but her and I were having a conversation one day not long after my father divorced her and how things had turned out. She made the comment that “if I had to do it all over again I wouldn’t change a thing.” That was the beginning of the end for her and I. I remember losing all respect for her that day. I always had this felling that when I got to a point in my life that I would be alone, without blood family around. And that was the day I started to separate myself from them all. Slowly, but it started. It started out of self-preservation. I was dying, not living, just going through the motion of existing. It came down to a few things, mostly the religion I was born into, and their failure to practice what they preach. They say they are a loving, non-judgmental, everyone is welcome organization, but I’m here to tell you, that’s not the case. They call their religion “The Truth,” more accurately they hide the truth from the world and their members. The reason my parents got divorced is because my little sister told my mom that he had tried to make her perform oral sex on him when she was younger. This came out at the same time as her breakdown. That was it for my mom, I mean things were messed up, well pretty much from the word “I Do,” when it came to those two. So, my mom told him he needed to leave that she had, had enough. Because of her religious beliefs or rather those imposed upon her by this cult she did not have scriptural grounds for divorce. See in this religion the only grounds for divorce and to be free from your marriage in the eyes of God is fornication. I bet your thinking, but wait he molested your sister. Yes, he did, but it was her word against his. Their rule requires two witnesses to the sexual act, if the other person doesn’t admit to the misconduct. BULLSHIT I say, BULLSHIT!

So my father denied that he had abused her and my mom filed for legal separation to protect herself. My father in turn divorced her. He went around telling members of the congregation that, “My wife kicked me out and now we are getting a divorce.” He made people think that she was the one sinning by divorcing him, but that wasn’t the case, but there was no telling people that. My father was really good at manipulating people into believing things the way he wanted them to, lets face it he had 35 years or so of practice. Being a man that abused his wife and children he had to be good at making up stories about the bruises and such. My mom didn’t stand up for herself, she let people believe what they wanted. Somehow and this still boggles my mind, I was the one who seemed to get picked on from a member of the congregation for it. There was this woman who I think had something going on with my father on the side, I have no proof but it just a feeling, she was just so mean to me. It felt like she would go out of her way to make things hard for me. I was still living at home when they split, so it wasn’t that I picked sides in the divorce but I did stand up for my mom the best I could. My father put the woman through hell. So, judgment was passed on me for something I had no control over. So I left. I moved. I tried to move on with my life. It cost me my relationship with my whole family. It really just came down to me or them and I choose me.

It’s been one hell of a journey that I am still traveling, but minute by minute, day by day I’m doing what’s best for me.

Silent Treament, Not Gonna Work!

I sometimes wonder what it is about me that people think they can’t tell when I did something wrong or have upset them. I do realize that I am an intense person most of the times, especially of late. It seems that I really have been in a down ward spiral in the past few years and it has been out of control this last 14-18 months. I am having so much trouble pulling myself out of it.

I have this roommate, who at times is my best friend, depending on her mood and if I exists. I know I was taking a chance moving in with her and that these sorts of things were going to happen. It seems as though the harder I try to keep us close the more she pulls away. Living with her in the sense that I never know what to expect when I walk into the house is a lot like that of when I was a child living with my mom.

It’s hard not even being acknowledge when I walk into a room or say hi. It makes me doubt myself as a descent human being. I know I’m not perfect and that I make mistakes and not always easy to get along with. But what kind of relationship is this if we can’t be honest with each other about anything. I hate trying to guess what is wrong but I am to scared at the same time to ask or stand up for myself.

I do love her but at times I feel as though this relationship no longer serves either of us in a positive way. This is how it has been from the beginning. We hit it off and then I wouldn’t hear from her for months and then out of the blue I would get a call and she would act like nothing was wrong and we would pick up right where left off. The worse part is I am so desperate for friend and support that I just go along with it. I have been living with her for about 2 years now and last year so was so upset with me that she deleted me off Facebook, like I wouldn’t noticed.

It’s so frustrating and hurtful. I keep asking myself why do I insist on going after these relationships with people men and women that seem to me like an uphill battle all the time? I seem to push away people that have interest in me and fight for those who don’t.

I really need to reevaluate my life choices.

I may be broken…

So I’m starting this blog for therapeutic reasons. Mostly because I have had a lot of change in my life this past year and don’t seem to be handling it well. I need some place I can come and unload my thoughts and frustrations.  I also plan on posting things of interest to me.  I am an artist, graphic design and love all things creative.

To tell you a little about myself I was raised a Jehovah Witness and as a child I was sexually abused by my brother and possible my father, I just don’t remember for sure if my father did, however recently I have been having nightmares that suggest that he did.  So let’s face it, it messed me up to the point that I where a mastered a technique of keeping people, mostly men, away from me.  The biggest way was by my weight.  Up until last year a weighted almost 400lbs.  Last year I had surgery and have lost almost 200lbs. At times when I look into the mirror I don’t even recognize myself anymore. It’s like the outside and inside don’t match anymore. The worst part is I am getting lots of attention from men and it’s uncomfortable for me. Really this blog is about that…man and their attraction to me and how it makes me feel.