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Christmas

So I am about to explain my Christmas… This is going to be very long and also probably pretty confusing because so many factors go into what happened over christmas. You have to have all parts of it in order to understand the whole… Also this is a complete rant so I’ve completely disregarded the importance of grammar lol… so I apologize in advance…

Christmas was… full of family drama as predicted. We were all home this year… well not for christmas exactly but right after.

I had to work Christmas Eve so I left Christmas morning for home. What should have been a max 5 hours trip turned into a twelve hour fiasco of me changing airlines and planes breaking.

But I got home the same time as my middle sister and then my brother arrived soon shortly after that. My eldest sister did not arrive until the next day.

I have good relations with my siblings except my brother. I’ve probably posted about it before… but my family has lots of drama that all started with him being kicked out of the family when i was in high school and he in college.

We had many years of drama surrounding my brother including me being forced by my parents to tell people that my brother was dead, my brother calling his biological father who he never knew ‘daddy’ and refusing to acknowledge my father (who raised him), many horrible fights, lots of yelling, etc. Eventually (like many years… this happened in 10th grade and I never got a formal apology from my brother until 5.5 years later) he said he was gonna try to be a part of our lives again.

I told him I forgave him… and I thought I had… But I think I always had some underlying difficulties with my brother being in my life… I don’t really like the person my brother had become but anytime he saw us I was always nice and pretended that nothing happened.

I’m not completely sure when or why my feelings for my brother started to turn south. A large part of it is because I don’t think I ever fully forgave him. I blame my brother for destroying my parents which destroyed my family. After my brother went off the deepened, my middle sister shortly left for college, and then my parents started having difficulties with my eldest sister on the same topic of why my brother left our family.

My parents were devastated… My mother… who basically didn’t really like the mothering role by the time she got to me, her fourth child, basically gave up raising me. I was only 15… I needed my mother… but instead what I got was a mother who was curled up on the couch crying when she wasn’t working, crying herself to sleep, talking non stop trash about my brother and eldest sister… and us never leaving the house because she was too depressed.

I remember it being just my mother and I eating dinner at night and the whole entire time instead of being able to talk to my mom about my day and things going on in my life, she would be on the phone with my father (whose job requires him to be away very often) crying over my siblings.

I didn’t agree with my parents when it came to the way they were handling this situation… at all… but I had to keep my opinions to myself… if i voiced a different opinion I would be chewed out…but still they were my parents… they shouldn’t have had to go through this situation. I thought that if my brother cared for them at all he wouldn’t have done what he had done in the way he had done it.

I understand that he and my sister (she actually had memories of the man) needed to seek their biological father. What I didnt understand was why my brother… who was my hero growing up, he was the one person I looked up to for everything and wanted to be exactly like… no longer wanted to be a part of my family. I didnt understand why he told my parents they were no longer his parents… I still don’t.

But anyway… I thought I was over all this… but my brother throughout all of this turned into a very angry, uncaring individual. I fear his anger much more than my mothers which really says something.

When my brother ended up moving close to home, he and my parents began to work through things. But no one thought about the fact that I or my middle sister needed to work things through with him too. My parents automatically assumed that because they were ok with him that I would be too. My parents always thought this way for some reason… while they always wanted a big happy family… my middle sister and I were never really allowed to have good relations with my brother or eldest sister. My eldest sister and I have a great relationship now but its mostly because I kept it from my mother…. in fact my middle sister was chewed out by my mother a year or so ago for confronting my eldest sister about something she was feeling… my mother told her it “wasn’t” her place.

But anyway as my parents became closer with my brother… the more resentment I began to feel.

All of a sudden this individual who started out as my hero and then became the enemy of my parents was suddenly their golden child. The prodigal son (who btw he and my eldest sister were always their favorite before things turned south) had returned!! And while I was all for throwing a party to welcome him back… this party just keeps going on… b/c we can’t do anything that might make him upset b/c he might turn away again… so we have to keep him happy… and the only way to do that is to keep him at the center of attention…

And my brother learning like the rest of my family how to be a pretty good manipulator also manipulates my mother by giving her the attention she desperately wants but not that he really wants to give her. He gives her the attention so that she will babysit his child anytime he wants and for as long as he wants. He also does it to get pity from her and to get her on his side when he thinks his sisters are against him.

It bothers me that my brother does this. It bothers me that he is once again the center of their world… I mean technically he was the center of their world during the fight b/c he was all they could talk about… but to go from such negativity to such positivity is very much like whiplash.

It isnt fair that he is the most loved out of all of us (my eldest sister who was always in competition for this role of most loved and probably was winning for a while is greatly disliked by my mother right now… which I greatly disagree with…my sister never did anything nearly as horrible as what my brother did).

But while I was talking all this over with a friend. I think I discovered something else too… I’ve misplaced much of my anger that i have over my situation with Fred on my mother and my brother.

This goes back to the manipulation thing. My whole life my mother has been an emotionally abusive person. It really isn’t much of her fault… she lived in a physically abusive home… so She has excuse. But anyway anytime she did something horrible to me or my middle sister (such as telling my sister that she no longer wanted to be her mother in like the 5th grade or telling me I wasnt good enough) I would just have to let it roll of my shoulder. There was nothing I could do about it. I just pretended that everything was fine. She emotionally hurt me.. but like she always told me I wasn’t allowed to cry about it. I just had to move on. (Which I’m pretty sure is the reason why I don’t ever cry now)

Thats what I began to do with my brother as well. My brother came back to the family… and although he would get angry at me for a stupid reason or joke in a manner that you weren’t actually sure if he was joking or not or do something horrible to my parents or chew out my eldest sister for something, or manipulate my mother into thinking that all the sisters were keeping him out from joining the family when really he wasn’t reaching out to us at all… I had to keep forgiving him.

And thats what I did with Fred. I have been trained my whole life to be treated not the best of ways but then immediately forgive and forget. After all it wasn’t their fault… there was reason for them being the way they were… I had to be understanding… So I had to be understanding with Fred to… It didn’t matter that he pretended to get in a car wreck to get my attention, or push me to have sex when I didn’t actually want to, or force me to take plan B and then not contact me for two weeks to see if I was ok, or see me for one night and then not hear from him for ages, or pretended to commit suicide, or yell at me when I thought that attempt was real and contacted his parents to find out what hospital he was in, and so much more… oh no… he probably had reason to be that way. I loved my mother and brother… I knew how to love people like this,… so shouldn’t I love him too?

So although the fault is really with me for allowing someone to treat me that way and not telling him to hit the road after week two… I can’t help but blame my mother and brother for conditioning me for that kind of relationship….

I feel like such a horrible person… I resent my brother for the amount of love and attention he gets from my parents (when he clearly isn’t the best of men in the world) and I blame him for something that he doesn’t even know happened in my life.

But anyway… to go back to christmas, It took me twelve hours to get home… I had only slept three hours the night before and I didnt get any chance to nap at all before he, his wife, and baby showed up.

OCD thing… kids scare the crap out of me… and since their child is really little, she scared me even more… so with being tired and battling with OCD I was a bit standoffish… my brother took that as extreme dislike for him… and while he was ‘joking’ and pretending everything was alright… he took the dislike he thought he saw mirrored in me and reflected it right back.

Everything was being dealt with though in the fake way my family loves to act until the next evening (when I still hadn’t gotten the sleep I needed due to various factors) when my mother insisted we play a board game (which may i emphasis has NEVER gone well in my family… someone always ends up crying). The first hour was fun… but then for some reason my brother kept getting “edgier”… apparently he felt like we were all gaining up on him… but we weren’t at all.. we were playing in our sarcastic way that we always play in… like when my brother had to name all 7 continents i told him he was wrong for saying “Australia” when the technical term is Oceania… or when we had to list things that were in a volcano and we refused to give him “frodo” since it was completely fictional and not something that has the possibility to be found in a volcano… then my sister did something that we weren’t completely sure if it was technically right but we gave it to her… and my brother just went off in an angry rage saying it was unfair and that we were all out to get him (even though he was winning).

This then started a huge argument. My mother insisted we put the game up and not wanting to be a part of my brother’s rage I quickly fled the scene…. but then my parents decided to have a “family meeting” to get our feelings out… which we’ve never done and is a terrifying thing to do… b/c a lot of the feelings are due to our parents and we can’t really tell them that without them kicking us out of the house…. but anyway apparently my brother had a lot of resentment against me due to the fact that he called me twice and i didn’t pick up either time (I don’t remember this but it was probably during finals which is why i didn’t want to deal with him… and so therefore he blamed me for us never talking) and then he was upset that i ‘disrespected’ our father once the day before (which long story short i hadnt at all… ) but my mean reply at this point was that our dad knew I hadn’t disrespected him b/c my love for him has never been questioned unlike his has for our father. Which my brother then denied he had never disrespected our father which then made my middle sister (who is very protective over me) intensely yell and then begin to cry that that was a load of bull.

I don’t remember to many of the details of this convo… due to the fact that I was really tired and upset… but apparently we got many of our feelings out… but nothing to change me brothers opinion about anything to do with life. He just sat their with his stubbornness fuming away.

My eldest sister stayed remarkably quiet throughout this whole thing… she told me later that she already felt like she was enough in the dog house that she didnt need to be anymore with my parents.

But anyway… eventually my brother’s wife comes to join the conversation (who was originally invited but she refused) and she is sobbing b/c she thought we had moved passed all this… but the thing is… she and my brother may have moved passed it with my parents… but never with me and my middle sister.

And then from that point on this whole conversation became the brother and his wife show… my mother being all fake trying to make them feel better. OH it doesn’t matter that I still haven’t gotten everything out and I am really upset…oh no I and my feelings don’t matter at all… just my brother’s.

My sisters and I all left the conversation a little bit afterwards feeling the exact same way. Ignored and overlooked for our brother… who learned nothing from the conversation.

My eldest sister then got on the phone with her husband (who had to work so stayed behind at where they lived) to say goodnight and tell him what happened… being protective of his children… he didnt want them there without my sister who was set to leave the next day and leave the kids behind to stay with us for a little while longer… so instead of packing them all up the next day my sister decided to stay with them at the house for the next few days…

When my sister went to go tell our mom… about thirty minutes after the family talk had ended my mom went off on her… saying that if the kids couldn’t stay by themselves they should all just leave the next day. So basically she was passive aggressively kicking them out. My mother who had been such a great mediator (completely fake) during the family talk was now kicking out my eldest sister for the stupidest reason ever… my sister was baffled and didnt know what to do… so she told my mom to think about it.

THe next morning everything was pretty scary…. the house was too quiet, My brother came to me though and did apologize… which i must give him some points for and said that he wants to try to talk more… but my mother… was very curt to everyone… she let my sister stay but kept dropping hints like packing for her and telling her it was going to rain tomorrow so it would be best to drive home today.

In the evening the eventually made up.. but made up in the fake way in which my mother is still holding a lot of resentment towards her.

So I still… I still dont know how to feel about any of this… I need to get over it… but I’ve learned that just dropping things and forgetting them are bad for me… or maybe that is just in regards to the rest of the world and not my family.

Blah.. I love my family… I really do… I just wish things were easier…

 

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Posted by on December 29, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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MY Life

So compared to most… I have a great family…

I’ve always had a roof over my head. Parents who loved me and clothed me and made sure I always had plenty of food…

But well… my family has issues in the emotionally abusive way…

In the way that many people have “daddy issues,” I have intense “mommy issues.” My dad had a career that kept him away from home for a lot of my childhood… so it was my mother who “wore the pants” in the family.

My mother came from a legit physically abusive home… the kind of home she would have been taken out of quickly if social services were the same then as they were today.

So she has reason to be the way she is… I try to understand it… but the truth is… my mother needs helps… the two therapist I’ve been two and the two psychiatrist who I’ve spoken too about my mother have all classified her as “borderline personality disorder.” Of course I could never tell her this or she would make life horrible for me… but I have tried to get her to go to therapy but to no avail…

As we all know I’m going through yet another crisis in my life… I don’t know what to do with my life…

I knew academia wasn’t for me… but what do I turn to without it? Its like i was standing on a cliff where I could see “the promise land” and the only way to get to that land was to jump off the cliff and then continue to the journey no matter how far it was.

I jumped off that cliff. I quit academia… but now because I no longer have the vantage point I can’t see the promise land… and I have no idea how long it will take me to get there… plus this path seems to be very muddy with many obstacles in my path… I can’t see the promise land nor can I figure out where I am anymore…

So to get back to my mommy issues…

I tried to talk to my mother about this… normally I don’t talk to my mother ever about what goes on in my life… but I was having a particularly depressing evening and I needed someone to talk to… and not taking my better judgement into consideration I called her…

WORST decision ever…

Somehow she has turned in my life crisis into being about her…

The fact that I’m unsure about things “Hurts her feelings.”

I’m not blaming her in any way! I am totally blaming this completely on me… but because I’m so upset with MY life… she is makes it out that I am purposefully hurting her…

She won’t STOP calling me trying to fix me and my problems… trying to make things “right”…

I’m just trying to figure out my OWN life and fix it… I don’t need to be worried about her being hurt by my worrying!! Does that even make sense?!

Yes I understand that she is sad to see her child struggling… but DON’T MAKE THIS ABOUT YOU!!!!

I have soooo much stuff that has gone on in my life that she doesn’t know about… she has no idea about Fred and other issues such as my major OCD struggles… I’ve protected her from those things… but why must I protect her?? When its MY LIFE?? Shouldn’t I just be trying to protect myself??

I just don’t understand… let me figure things out… let me figure out MY life… don’t make this about you, because then I’m going to do what I’ve always done in my life… please you even if it hurts me…

 
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Posted by on October 13, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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The pain of life

My heart hurts so much right now…

My best friend, Riley, just welcomed her first nephew into the world. They knew it was going to be a complicated birth… they knew from early on that this lil one had a heart problem… they were prepared to have to go immediately into surgery the moment he was born…

And he was born June 26th at 4lbs 11 oz… small because of his heart… but miraculously he didn’t have to go into surgery… it didn’t look like he needed a heart transplant as first thought… they thought that he would be ok… yes his heart had a problem, but it wasn’t as severe as they thought… they thought he would be able to go home at the end of this week…

He is an absolutely beautiful baby… but today they received news that in addition to his heart complication that he has Methylmalonic acidemia disorder… All I really know about it is what I have been able to get off medical websites and such… but from what I have researched… he will not to be on this earth very long… and it breaks my heart for him, his mother, and my best friend…

All I can do is pray for him… and hope that anyone who reads this prayers/ puts good thoughts out into the world for him…

But at least all he knows about life right now is the love of his parents, aunt, and other family members… I guess if the only thing you know about is love then that is enough

 
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Posted by on July 2, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Sticks and Bricks may break my bones but… words will never hurt me?

We’ve all heard the childhood rhyme:

Sticks and Bricks may break my bones
But words will never hurt me.

We were all told this in order to get through those childhood years of being made fun of. We were told that those comments that other kids or students made about us were untrue so why even pay attention to them? I was definitely one of those kids who was made fun of. My friends swear to me that I’m pretty now… but back in the day I know I wasn’t so much… I guess I was a bit of an ugly duckling who (hopefully) turned into a swan. But I was made fun of back then… making it impossible for me to now accept compliments. It was so ingrained to me growing up that I find it impossible to believe now.

But anyway… while words will never physically hurt someone… I think they do much worse to someone than what a broken wrist does.

Someone can tell you they love you. You believe them… and then the next moment they tear your heart out. Someone tells you they are sorry.. and you believe them… and then they do it again. Those words… you believe are true… just end up being lies… of the worst kind.

Maybe I’m just too naive. I want to believe everyone has a good excuse. That everyone is a beautiful person. That everyone deserves a second, third, and fourth chance. I want to believe that some people just don’t realize the effect that they have on other people. I want to believe that they are naive… but really its me…

It doesn’t matter that my brother has broken my heart and my families heart multiple times. I still forgive him. Every time. Oh, I’m mad for like 6 hours… but then I always think he is going to change… he is gonna be different… but he never is… I’m just too naive…

I was often told growing up that I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t smart enough, I didn’t behave well enough, that I wasn’t a good enough child, that I just was never enough. This didn’t make me fight harder to prove that I was good enough… instead it did the exact opposite… it made me feel like there was nothing that I could do to be good enough.

It doesn’t matter that I graduated in 3 years from undergrad with a 4.0, or that I graduated with my MA with a 3.9 (stupid A minuses!). It doesn’t matter that I am in a PhD program now… I’m not good enough. Nor will I ever be.

I’m not good enough to be loved they way that I want to be loved. I’m not good enough to be remembered often.

My parents and the mean kids in middle/high school told me I wasn’t good enough. Secretly I always harbored hope that they were wrong. That I was good enough.

But… I guess they were right… i’m not good enough.

I wish I knew how to be…

I had an epiphany though during my therapy session… I’m worthy of life… I’m worthy of love… I’m worthy to be good enough… I’m worthy to be treated well.

So I’m not goodenough… I know I never will be… so why even continue to try? Even if I get my PhD… my parents aren’t going to be proud of me… there is always something else they will want me to do. You know get tenure, move close to them, have a family, etc.

So… If I am not goodenough and yet I’m worthy of life… why should I try to make all these other people happy when no matter what I do they won’t be happy? Shouldn’t I just focus on making me happy?

But then again… I’ll be unhappy if they are unhappy…

But I don’t want to continue torturing myself in a world that I hate… should I just try to find a new path.. .and hope that my parents see me happy in this new path and maybe they will be happy too?

I’m not goodenough… I will never be goodenough… it is actually a pretty freeing idea… I can do whatever I want b/c no matter what I won’t be goodenough… I mind as well make myself happy. If I can just figure out how to do that lol.

 
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Posted by on October 13, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Caged

One of these days I’ll be brave enough to post my own poetry (I think I have a couple of times actually..but those weren’t my most intimate pieces). I know… I basically pour my soul out on here anyway and none of you actually know me personally, so what does it matter? But still there is something about poetry… I think I would somehow feel more exposed and vulnerable if I posted it.

But anyway… Meaningful Poems by famous people for today:

Fire and Ice By Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

* * * * * * * *

Desire and Hate… two emotions I know well and are extremely well described in this poem. Desire can be all consuming, taking up everything in your life to the point that you forget who you are. Much like fire. Hate though… its a tricky one… I’ve never actually hated anyone… I’ve only ever hated myself… and hate is like ice. It can numb you. It can encase you in a prison that is almost impossible to escape.

I currently see myself going back into that encasement of ice.

I’m never good enough. Never worthy of love. If I wasn’t here no one would notice. All I ever do is hurt those that I love. I will never be who they want me to be. I’m just a disappointment to all.

The easiest way to contain that kind of hate… is to become numb… ice does numb things after all…

All of that use to make me hate myself. I’m trying so hard right now to try to not go back to that. I’m trying not to think of those things. Not to think like that. Trying to remember the positive.

I can find beauty in the whole world…no matter how bad the situation… I believe everyone is deserving of second chances… I believe everyone should be loved… but I have such a hard time believing that for myself. It is so much easier to believe the bad things about yourself then allow yourself to see your own beauty.

I will try though…

I will try to not let the hate win. I will try to not let the ice take over again so that I am just a robot trying to get through life. Even though love, life, and pain hurts… numbing it won’t solve my problems… it will just make it worse.

So I will stick with the pain… so that I don’t loose myself to hate.

I refuse to sink.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

* * * * * * *
So I am very well aware of the meaning of this poem. I know its really about discrimination and racism… and the oppression of African Americans in the US.

But I’ve also taken it in a very personal way…

Birds and cages… have a very personal meaning to me…

Two of my favorite quotes are currently on my wall in my bedroom.

(1) “One day I’ll Fly Away”- from Moulin Rouge

(2) “A fish may love a bird, signore, but where would they live?” “Then I will have to build you wings.”- from Ever After

I’ve decorated my room so that there is a large decal of a tree and a bird slowly trying to fly to join other birds.

My favorite necklace right now has a charm that is of a bird cage.

I’ve just always wanted to fly away and join my dreams… without anything keeping me on the ground.

I have felt like such a caged bird my whole life… in all manners of my life… from the prison my OCD created for me and in the way that I grew up. My parents kept me caged growing up… and the OCD just made that cage even more foolproof.

I recently thought that I was coming out of that cage, but I’ve realized the only way out of the cage is through continuous trust in God. He will free me. For some reason a miracle hasn’t happened yet… all of sudden the doors of my cage haven’t swung open.. there has to be reason for that… they are slowly opening a little bit at a time.. but I will continue to trust in God that one day not only will those doors swing all the way open… but they will open right into His arms and He will give me freedom to do good in the world.

* * * * * *
I hope one day that I will no longer be frozen in a cage… but beautiful and wanted.

 
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Posted by on October 4, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Not Alone

If you had told me this time last year that I would be in a PhD program with a great advisor, in a new fantastic city thousands a miles away from my parents, in great relationships with my family and friends, and living almost every day relatively anxiety free… I wouldn’t have believed you.

I wouldn’t have laughed. I wouldn’t have shook my head. I would just have completely disregarded you and gone back into my world of misery, fear, pain, loneliness, distrust, and lovelessness.

At this point last year… I was just diagnosed with severe OCD. My therapist who I had been seeing for about a month had explained it to me. Told me that I wasn’t evil. Told me that I wasn’t a bad person. And told me that these thoughts were not me, but OCD. And that through therapy, CBT, ERP, and medication that I would find my life again.

But how could I find my life again, when I realized I had actually been living this way since I was 8 years old (at least)? Who was I? How did we not know that I really wasn’t a monster who could hide behind the label of OCD?

It was like a Chinese Finger trap (this is actually a common way to describe OCD). I was trapped and the more and more I tried to pull away from the OCD and the horrible thoughts and compulsions the more I was stuck. The more I couldn’t move. The more I was captured and imprisoned in my own mind.

My thoughts were even if this was OCD… even if I wasn’t evil… who would allow these fears to manifest themselves in their brain? How did these thoughts ever even get there? Obviously I was a horrible individual. I didn’t deserve to live. I didn’t trust myself.

I felt that it was my duty to protect the world. It was a core belief. I should have moved that stick off the sidewalk. What if someone trips over it and hurts themselves? What if they trip over it and run into a wall and knock themselves unconscious? It would be all my fault they were hurt. I should have moved the stick. I should have warn that other person that there was litter on the ground. What if their shoe touched it? And then they tied their shoe? And then got whatever was on the litter on their hand and then got sick from it? It was all my fault they were sick. It was all my fault they were inconvenienced.

My life was inconveniencing everyone. I didn’t deserve to live. I never acted on any of my suicidal thoughts… but they were there. It was only my faith in God that he would pull me through this that kept me alive. But still even the OCD tried to take that faith away from me.

I didn’t deserve to be God’s child. Not that anyone did (it was only through God’s grace and sending his Son to take our place in death that we are given forgiveness)… but me in particular. I deserved to go to hell. I wasn’t worthy of God’s forgiveness and love. Even if he could possibly forgive me… wouldn’t I be taking away some of His time in which He could be worrying about His other children? Time in which He could be doing amazing things in their lives? – These were thoughts the OCD plagued me with. I should have never been created. I should have just been completely wiped out from existence.

I honestly don’t know how I got out of bed everyday. I had started taking medication at this point… it takes Prozac 8 weeks to kick in… but everyday was full of elaborate rituals (I probably spent 4-8 hours doing compulsions… whether it be showering, washing my hands, cleaning, or calling my parents for the nth time to ask for reassurance). I was terrified of all bathrooms, including my own. I shared it with my roommate. What if I accidentally didn’t clean something up and left the bathroom contaminated and my roommate got sick? What if I didn’t wash my hands enough… so someone got some germ that I somehow was carrying? Bathrooms, showers, and sinks were the scariest places in the world. Yes they were the place you went to go get clean… but you were dirty first.

I was even terrified of going to the kitchen b/c I was terrified of accidentally contaminating my roommate’s food! At this point I had stopped eating regularly. I could eventually convince myself to eat at home some days… but not without a ton of reassurance from my parents and roommate. But I could not eat anything out in public. What if someone was allergic to something I was eating and I get it somewhere and they touched it? They would then have an allergic reaction and be inconvenienced. Even though I am 99% better today.. I still can’t go anywhere near peanut butter… People who are allergic to peanut butter can die from it. I don’t want to be the cause of accidentally getting peanut butter somewhere and someone dying from it.

I usually went straight to school for my classes and went straight back home afterwards. The whole entire time I would be freaking out about something. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate in class. But I had to go to class… otherwise I might fail… and failure was just as bad as contamination in my OCD world. Maybe that is why I never ended up acting on any of my suicidal thoughts… I was too terrified of failing life. I thought perhaps I could still somehow redeem myself. Even though my parents tried to drag me home several times so that they could take care of me, I refused to let them… I couldn’t fail school… it is what I had dedicated my whole life too.

I lost friends that semester. Only one friend knew I had OCD at this point and it was because she had told me the year before she had OCD and I was able to tell her. Even though I had told my one friend with OCD about my OCD…she had the same issues I had if not worse. I had someone to turn too… to be with… but since we were struggling with the same things… were were still both just as alone… but to everyone else … I was just a ghost of the girl they use to know. My professors looked at me in disappointment. They didn’t even try to get me to answer questions anymore in class. My friends… they tried to talk to me… but I couldn’t let them in. I was scared of what they would think. Long distance friends called me… but I refused to answer… eventually they got tired of their calls going to voice mail and stopped trying. The only things my friends at school noticed about me was my angry red and chapped hands that were often bleeding from all the washing I was doing.

It was the first week of October though that things started to turn around for me. One of my very best friends in my program who was basically like my big brother… forced me to talk to him. He saw me fading away… and his brotherly love could no longer take it anymore. He took me out to dinner… sat me down… and tried to get me to tell him what was wrong. He kept asking probing questions and I kept trying to avoid answering them.

Eventually though my defense walls fell down. The next thing I knew I was telling him everything. Everything that was wrong with me… How I knew there was something wrong with my since I was 8… how I was terrified of living… how I was terrified of dying… how I was terrified of not protecting the world good enough… how I was terrified that I could no longer continue on.

I had been in therapy for a month at this point… but there was absolutely nothing more therapeutic than talking to my friend. It was like a weight was taken off my shoulders. He sat and listened. He took in everything that I said. He actually understood… he struggled with his own mental conditions… he could relate.

I was no longer alone.

That was the key. This friend… he could relate in all the right ways but also was at a distance that he wasn’t alone in the same way I was.

He showed me friendship, trust, and love. He pushed me forward.

After I told him… I then felt better about talking to my other really close friends about it. The more people I let into my secret.. the more of me I was becoming again. Suddenly the ghost of the girl that I was was coming back into visibility. I wasn’t in color yet… but I think I went from ghostly to black and white.

I was able to create an amazing support system around me. My friends who were long distance called me and checked on me, after I talked to them about my OCD. They were constantly there supporting me. And my close friends at school were there to calm me down in the mist of a panic attack… telling me it was ok. That I would be ok. That they were there for me. That they loved me. It would all be ok… I wasn’t alone… I had them…

That is how I was finally able to begin shutting the OCD out. By not being alone. I know prior to this I wasn’t alone. I had God. I had my family. But sometimes you need the closeness of your very best friends.. to help you realize the love that God has for you and your family.

It was through them that I was actually able to turn back to God. Even though none of them were particularly Christians. I was able to conceptualize love, trust, and companionship because of the way that I felt it on Earth. That is how I was finally able to turn back to God to start being protected again by Him and allowing Him to love me.

My brain was my prison… so I had to escape. And it was my friends who helped me do it. I probably could have eventually dug myself out of my prison alone… but the more people you have to help you to dig… the easier and quicker it is.

Thinking back to these dark days… I never ever could imagine being where I am today. Getting great new experiences, experiencing love, becoming closer to my family, friends, and most importantly God.

That is why I started this blog… so that others wouldn’t feel alone. You are not alone… no matter what you are going through… I am here. God is here. Your friends are here.

OCD is not your friend. It is just a stupid chemical imbalance that makes your brain get stuck on repeat of your worst fears (it is very closely related to Tourette’s syndrome… but instead of stuck on physical actions you are stuck on thoughts). Those compulsions you do to make you feel better? They may make you feel better for a few seconds… but in the end they are extremely detrimental to you… they just reaffirm the thoughts… which are not you. They are your worst fears. But they are not you. You can escape them.

You are a beautiful person. Created by a God who loves you. You are not alone. He is here. I am here. You are not alone.

If I can go from practically bed ridden to thriving in a relatively OCD free world in a year… so can you. Do not let your OCD and fears win. You will win. You just have to keep going and know you are not alone. In the end Love always wins… you are love, your friends are love, your family is love, and God is love. Don’t ever underestimate the people that are in your life… God put them there for a reason… and that reason was to draw you closer to Him.

 
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Posted by on September 29, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Interesting Boat

So… I’m not sure how to describe what it is that is happening, but I shall try.

Obviously… as the title suggests… I’m in an interesting boat…

My WHOLE immediate family was together this past weekend for the first time in almost 8 years. This includes my parents, oldest sister, her husband, three children; brother, his wife, and child; my other sister, and my mother’s grandparents.

I’m not sure how much I’ve written about the issues my family has… but well to catch you up my family is pretty messed up. Not in the “abusive situation” type of way but in the no one gets along, rift in the family, and some people actually have mental disorders way (lol including me… but I’m referring more to those in my family who refuse to acknowledge that they have a problem and refuse go to therapy)…

It was a pretty good weekend. All of us were only together for a few hours. We went out to lunch in a location half way between where my oldest sister lives and where my parents and grandparents live. My brother and his family and my other sister hung around for a lot of the weekend at home.

I thought it went really well.. well for my family at least.

Of course there were times when certain groups of us were together and we would complain about the missing people… is this normal in a family? I’m not sure lol.

But anyway one thing I’ve always known about my family is that I am the glue. Everyone likes me. Everyone has issues with everyone except me. If I was not here no one in my family would speak. I am the only person who doesn’t like me (a point my therapist pointed out to me a month or so ago lol). I make people calm down and see the side of the other person (of course this sometimes leads to arguments of me defending other family member but usually I’m a pretty good mediator).

But anyhow… this past weekend I was often in odd groups of my family, such as just my parents, just my middle sister, my middle sister, brother, and sister-in-law, or just my oldest sister… and ┬álots of complaining occurred.

My problem is is that when I’m with which ever group I completely and utterly see there side to the situation. As I said sometimes there are times when I make other people see the other side (such as when my brother was complaining about my mother I finally told him that my therapist thought that my mother most likely had borderline personality disorder… I hoped that by telling him he would understand her actions more so). But other times… I feel like a traitor to my various groups b/c I will just sit down and complain about the person right a long with them. Is this normal family behavior?

It is just that everyone in my family just trusts me SO much that I probably know more about the lives of everyone in our family than anyone else knows. It puts me in an interesting boat… and also makes me freak out in an obsessional way:

“Omg… should I have defended so-in-so??? Did I make their situation worse between them???”

“Should I have said BLANK to this person so that they would understand the situation better? Crap, did I miss my opportunity to fix my family?? But what if my saying that I put a whole in their trust?? Omg did I accidentally tell someone something that was supposed to be a secret???”

“What if I am not the glue??? But am actually the acetone disintegrating it?? What if it is all my fault that people don’t like other people in my family???? Am I subconsciously sabotaging my family??? I shouldn’t complain about anyone ever!!! I want everyone to love each other! Omg did what I just say totally ruin someone’s relationship with someone else???”

Seriously these thoughts go through my mind… and I really don’t know what to do about it… b/c honestly maybe the thoughts are right? I know… I’m letting the OCD win… but sometimes it can be so easy to believe…

Where is the line between being the glue and the acetone?

 
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Posted by on July 3, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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