Saturday, May 12, 2007

emotional junk dumping, 3am, saturday

mothers day flower for me as i have been a great mom to myself
(taken by myself on campus in april 2007)

okokokok :)

i am going to write.  something.  yup, its time.

april was nuts, and was pretty intense for the most part.  i was in school full time, and working full time between three positions.  i did very well, holding in there until about halfway through the second last week, when i snapped.  yup, i crashed.  big time.  right back into the throes of what i went through after the zyban reaction...frozen in one spot, sleeping heaps, not really getting much done beyond the basics, and spending ages wandering in circles starting stuff but not finishing anything.  thankfully, it passed after about ten or twelve days, and i managed not to lose any of my jobs.  mind you, my final exams took a huge blow....a massive one.

i have been working on coming to terms with the fact that what i go through quite probably will never fully go away.  it will abate as long as i do not get too stressed, but it quite probably will never go away.  this comes as no real surprise as it seems no matter what i do or change, it still seems to lurk in the background sometimes stronger sometimes weaker.  at least i know what i am dealing with.

see, i have led a colourful life, one in which a lot has happened.  i have had complex trauma happen in my life, which leaves me dealing with complex ptsd.  i have known that i deal with ptsd at times since my late twenties.  it is only recently i talked to my therapist about it more, and asked if that is what i am dealing with.  she said that she thinks so, that its complex, and when i asked if it will be here for life, she said she thinks so to that too....none of this surprises me.  i think i always knew, just wasnt quite ready to face that i may have something for the rest of my life.  now, mind you, i can learn to live with this, and to modulate it as best as possible.  its not like being handed a sentence for me, it is more liberating.  it is like yes! i finally have something i can work with! something that makes sense, and gives me a frame work, and that i can actually target.  :) so in that regard i am happy...happy to finally understand what goes on with me when i get too stressed and shut down.

i have been reading a fair amount about this the last few weeks.  there has been ever so much more research done on this than what was done ten years ago.  ten years ago, most folks i spoke to did not know what ptsd was, and complex ptsd didnt even exist.  complex ptsd is a newer catagory, and one that is up for consideration for inclusion in the next copy of the dsm.  it helps to explain so many things to me.

see, before i would read all kinds of stuff, and try to figure out if that is what was wrong with me.  i have known that something has been going on, especially the last six years or so, i just didnt know exactly what.  i had figured that much of my ptsd was under control as i had done therapy for it in my late twenties.  little did i know...

the more stressed i get, the worse i get.  i feel things more strongly than most folks do, my emotions are intense.  anyone who knows me can vouch for me being on the hyper side, and that i get passionate about things.  i can tend towards being a drama queen as well at times, to be honest.

i think that the zyban reaction was a real smack on the head for me.  i was already dealing with a lot from my past, and the zyban was kind of the straw that broke the camels back.  the longer i have remained low stress, the better i have been getting.  i have learned this winter that the more stress i undergo, the more i start to return to the state i was in directly after the zyban episode.  for the most part, i do well as long as i remain calm.  it is like my nerves are healing, and i just keep getting better and better...being able to deal with more and more, and a wider range of emotions.  i am not a basket case all the time btw, it is just that sometimes i feel overwhelmed emotionally.

i sometimes get upset that i have to go through this.  i never asked for the life that was dealt to me.  i didnt ask for an abusive neglectful mom, for my dad to get killed, for my mom to have a violent abusive boyfriend who tried to hit on me sexually and who gave me drugs and alcohol.  i didnt ask to have a violent boyfriend in my twenties, nor to have one who scammed me for thousands of dollars and who stole my stuff.  i didnt ask to be hit by a car, nor for the two accidents my boyfriend got me into.  i didnt ask for my stepfather to be killed in a motorcycle accident.  and i tried to do something good for me when i took zyban to quit smoking.  i tried to do something good in some of the situations, to get myself out of them.  when i was thirteen, i went to childrens aid and asked them to take me away as i knew that my family life was not normal.  my mom didnt take care of me at all at that time, and her boyfriend was horrific.  i became a foster kid to get away from home.  the violent relationship only lasted around two years, with me ending it.  the scamming relationship only lasted about the same amount of time, again with me ending it.  i dont think that i asked for any of those things.  that is just the life that i have led.  and yes, i could have left both of those men earlier but i didnt.  i left when i felt strong enough, and when i had had enough and wanted something better.

i have striven to be a better person.  i was terrified of having kids in my twenties for fear that i would be an abusive mother like my mom had been towards me.  i realize now that i would make a great mom, but at the time i didnt know that.  it wasnt until i talked with a therapist in my mid twenties did i realize that i would have been okay as a parent.  needless to say, i still dont have kids and quite probably never will at this age.  and i am okay with that.

i cant blame my entire life on my mom, just parts of it.  i have made choices in there too as i have grown up.  its just that she gave me a shitty start in life.  i think she knew that she would be a bad parent and maybe that is partly why she left my sister and i and went to canada when we were so small.  perhaps she knew that she would never be able to look after us.  i think that may be, in part, why she left us with my dad.  most moms would never leave their kids and move to another country...that just isnt done all that often.  if my dad hadnt of died...

i used to think about that when i was younger an awful lot, about what my life would have been like if my dad had of lived.  my first dad was killed in a car accident when i was five, and i came to live in canada when i was six.  my life sure would have been different if he had of lived.  he was killed in the middle of the night with his brother.  i think that must have been so hard on his family.  they lost two boys at once in a brutal accident.  how do you cope with that? i am forty years old, it happened thirty five years ago, and i am still learning to cope with the aftermath of that accident.

i travelled home to england once to meet all my family.  my blood family that is.  when i met my dads family, each brother told me about his version of the night my dad was killed.  it was almost like they felt that they had to atone to me or something.  maybe in doing so, it brought them closure.  i am sure that the accident had as much of an impact on them as it did on me.

you know that if you beat someone long enough, and hard enough, that eventually they stop fighting back, and finally will agree that they are wrong regardless of whether or not they did anything.  that is what i felt like when i was a teenager, like i was beaten too long and too hard.  i felt like i was the worst person ever, like i didnt even deserve to eat or to live.  it is a good thing though, that i have a strong part in me, deep inside, that stood up and fought back.  i think it is the strong part of me that pulled me through a lot of the crap that i went through.  it is like parts of my ego got broken, bruised...but a part of me knew that i was worth fighting for, that i was worthy.  it is the strong part that kept me sane.  i think that my intelligence has been my saving grace, and has been the foundation of the strong part of me.  i always knew in my heart that there was more to life than what i was living as a teenager, that there was more than what my mom was showing me.  i am so thankful that i met my family folks at that time, and that they showed me how a real family can love and support each other through everything.  i knew that there had to be more.

i have done some thinking on my family background as well, on what may have made my mom be the way she is.  she says that my grandfather never loved her, that he didnt want her.  yet my grandmother has told me how he overstayed his leave from the army just to be there when she was born.  if he didnt want her, why did he stay past his time? to me that shows caring, desire, and eagerness for her to be born.

my grandfather was in the military.  he was a parachuter.  when he came home from fighting, my grandmother told me how he developed what she called the "blue devils." he would wake up yelling and screaming, sometimes would go right back to the battle scenes when he was wide awake, and that is when he became violent with her.  i now know that what he would have been going through was shell shock, ptsd.  they never knew what it was then.  all my nan knew is that he came home a changed man, one who could not always be trusted.  he drank a lot.  he was okay most times if he was sober, but got nasty if he drank.  i dont remember him being nasty, he was always good around us kids.  mind you, we got taken away at times, and were told to behave around him.  i think my grandmother protected us from him.  he must have been awful to my mom when she was small.  it would have been right around that time that he developed the blue devils.  she told me how when she was small he would throw knives at her.  he systematically smashed all of my grandmothers crystal.  it is so sad that at that time there was no knowledge about what he was going through, and no help for him.  i feel torn at times.  there is a part of me who gets angry at my grandfather for the destruction he caused to my family, and there is also a very very very deep compassion for the horror he must have lived not knowing what was taking place inside of himself, and no help available.  i dont get angry at him very often....i usually just feel more compassion than anything, and sadness for him.  he was a good man to many people, someone to be respected, he just wasnt always very good at home.  my grandmother is a strong woman.  so my mom didnt have a very good start in life either.  she paid for the damage that war caused to my grandfather.  she also learned to drink, even worse than he ever did.

my grandfather drank once in a while.  it wasnt very often from what i remember, not often at all.  my mom drank every day.  she was always drinking.  it didnt really matter if she drank or not, she was nasty regardless.

its kind of funny.  one of the best things that anyone ever did for me was done by my orthodontist, and i bet he never even had any idea what he was erasing.  he filed my front teeth straight...smoothing out a couple of chips.  they were fairly tiny chips, not ones that anyone would readily notice, but they were so big and huge and glaring to me.  they are gone now, and i dont have the horrible reminder every time i look into the mirror of my mom smacking me in the mouth and chipping my teeth.  how the hell does an adult do that to a child? i cant fathom it, and i dont understand.  yes, intellectually i can understand how she had a crappy start etc etc...but i also know about rational choice, and she is an intelligent woman.  how could she bring herself to hit a kid? i was three feet tall! and she hit me with her fist.  how can an adult do that? my teeth are straight now, and the chips have been erased.  the memory becomes easier and easier to live with as well as i grow older, and admit more to myself that she is a terrible person.  i was only a child, and did not deserve to be hit.

it is mothers day tomorrow.  maybe that is why i am rambling on so much about my family history.  i dont like mothers day.  why should i be forced to celebrate the very person who created the foundation i struggle against in my life? i dont respect her, and she contributed very little that is good to my being.  she doesnt deserve flowers and a card.  many people have said to me that it would be so nice if i could have a relationship with my mother.  they do not understand that to have a relationship with her is toxic and poisonous to me, that my mother does not like me and does not contribute anything positive to my life.  she will only cost me thousands more dollars, and a lot of heartache.  i deserve better in this life.

i would rather have a special persons day, where we are to celebrate the people who are important to us.  my grandmother is important to me.  my heartmom is important to me.  my friends are important too.  i would rather celebrate those people instead of some evil woman who hates me.  i dont like mothers day.  i dont like fathers day either.  i would rather celebrate special people for both days.  and i hated being made to make things as a kid for those days.  that is just plain sadistic and cruel to make kids make things for parents who cant even treat them good.  mind you, i didnt know she was treating me bad until much later.

i saw my old childhood neighbour a few days ago.  i think i am going to phone her and ask her to meet up to talk to me of my childhood.  there are so many holes in it.  she was saying how her mom still talks about how badly my mom treated us kids.  i know that childrens aid had a file on us when we were small, i just dont know what was in it, nor if we were ever investigated.  i wish someone could have intervened when i was small, that someone could have taken me away from my mom.

i said to my therapist the other week how my stepfather treated us well when we were kids.  and yes, overall, he did.  he fought with my mom, not us kids.  he was kind to us, and made sure we had a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.  he tried to teach me things to give me a good start in life, and some of those things i still cherish.  he taught me to love books, and to be myself.  he taught me that i can do things, and that doing them is a choice.  i choose to do things, the word cannot does not exist.  the word would be i wont, not i cant.  but when i was sitting there telling her that, i also knew that he wasnt all that good in some regards either.  he never stopped my mom, and he never protected us.  he fought with her, and made it so she would have to come wake us up in the middle of the night, put us in the car, and drive around the town for hours until he was asleep from drinking and it was safe to come home.  he made it so my mom would come crawl into my bed in the middle of the night as it was safer for her that way.  and he told me that i didnt exist, that this entire world was a figment of my imagination, and i believed him.  he wasnt always good either.  he was never violent or nasty to me, but indirectly he wasnt always good.  i loved him a lot, and i still do.  i respected him.  and it is hard to admit that he wasnt always good, but it is the truth.  he should have protected me, and he chose to do nothing.

when i was about 8 or 9 years old, i tried to run away from home.  i packed all my library books up into a plastic bag, and went and sat down on the side of the highway for my stepdad to come home to take me to my friends place.  i guess i threw stones at my mom before i left, telling her i was going to leave and go to my friends place.  she got in a lot of trouble for that one.  maybe he did try to protect me in some ways.  maybe...  she used to tell me not to tell him what she did to me.  i dont know how she hid my chipped teeth from him, if she ever did.  maybe he didnt notice.

the last while, i keep getting smacked in the chest with heavy emotions when i see yellow school buses.  not all the times, just sometimes.  it is like tears just come welling out of my chest, and want to pour down my face, and my throat closes up and its hard to breath.  if i am alone, i let myself cry.  if i am around other people i try to control my face so no one can see what i am going through.  they are simple school buses, but trigger such deep emotions in me.

i was driving one day, and i got stuck behind a school bus.  i figured okay, i am here alone, good time to explore this and try to figure out what is behind it, what is causing the bus to be an emotional trigger.  all that i could come up with was potential.  those buses contain little kids who are full of potential.  they have so much ahead of them and they are so fragile, and vulnerable.  they are kids who can grow up to be valued people in our society, they are our future.  i had my potential taken away from me when i was a kid.  i was tainted before i even had time to grow up.  yes, i am a valued member of society, but it is by my own doing, and by the doing of my family folks, not the doing of the people who were supposed to raise me up to be someone.  i lost my potential in childhood, i lost my innocence.  and that wasnt fair.  i didnt do anything nor ask for that to be taken away.  that is about the only thing i can come up with as to why school buses make me cry.  i liked school then, and i enjoyed learning.  all the trips to school were good ones.  i dont remember anything bad on the bus.  all i can think of is the symbolic meaning, the potential of the kids inside the bus.

gosh i am really on a downer tonight.  i havent written for awhile, and this is the kind of stuff that gets built up inside of my head.  this is what i ponder over, and try to understand.  when i get deeper and deeper understanding of what happened, then it becomes easier to deal with emotionally, and i can overcome what i go through.  the more i talk about it, or write about it, the easier it is to work with.  if i were to never talk or write, i would never get anywhere with it.  i find it good to write here in my blog as i can let things go here.  i know that maybe someone will read something.  maybe it will let them know that they are not alone, and that all this crap that other people can do to us can be overcome.  we are more than what we are given as kids, way more.  i know i am a good person, and i know i have a right to be here.  i know that people care about me, and i care about them.  my mom never succeeded in taking that away from me.  it took me a long time to get to the point where i knew and understood that i am a good person.

i still dont feel much anger towards her.  i question so much, and i get disgusted with her, but i dont often feel much anger.  i feel pity more than anything i think, and a huge lack of respect.  she is paying for what she did to me as a kid.  i know she has to be.  she is not a happy person, and lives a reclusive life.  she has almost no friends, and people dont turn to her for anything.  she is totally unreliable.  well...i should say all of this in past tense as its been over six years since i had anything to do with her.  the last thing i did for her was to pay out three thousand dollars in her back bills, and deposit a bit into her bank account.  she never even called me to say thank you, or that the money was in her account.  the last time i ran into her, she covered her mouth horrified that it was me, backed up, and walked rapidly away.  she never spoke to me at all, just ran away.  she didnt even recognize me until i spoke to her.  she is not a good mother.

and so, i dont wish to celebrate mothers day.  mothers day is tomorrow, and i have to go to work at the restaurant.  i will be working a ten hour shift, looking after loads of people who will be celebrating mothers day.  i will have to smile a lot, and pretend to be happy.  tomorrow may be a bit rough but i will get through.  i have done that job so many times that it is easy for me to be a happy friendly person.  most likely, i will genuinely end up happy anyhow as i enjoy people so very much.

it is late here, and i have eight hours to get some sleep in before heading off to work.  i am going to trundle off to my bed and put star wars in the player to fall asleep too.  i have dumped another load of my emotional junk into my blog, and so my head grows ever so slightly clearer.

good night.

lou