The last few weeks have been rough. Well, the last……. lots of years have been tough. I can honestly say that I haven’t participated much. Sure, I’ve worked. I’ve worked hard. I’ve done work at home. I’ve been trying to be more present. In my relationships and in my world. I’ve tried to realize what my body does for me (or does not do because of the abuse I’ve put my body through). I’ve lost a lot of time. With my mental illnesses, I’ve stayed in 1995 for years. I hadn’t really truly left. Every day felt like I had to get people to understand who I was and why I was so angry at those I felt left me. Those who I saw walk away and never darken my doorstep again. Those that were critical of my choices. Even … me.

I’m trying to unlock who I am. The whole point of this blog was to try to figure out who I was. And why the fuck was I so screwed up? I wanted to sit down in a lab for hours in front of scientists studying my brain. Inside and out. I wanted people to know WHY I behaved the way I did. And while that seems bizarre, I’ve felt on the brink of insanity for years. Screaming on the inside. Knowing that I will never and would never be enough. Yet somehow, there’s a seems to be something happening.

I’ve made leaps and bounds in my own progress. Let me think…..

I’ve moved to Wisconsin with nothing. Nothing but what furniture I could fit in the back of a truck and my daughter. A hope and a prayer for something better. (OMG, not quite, but somewhat Gilmore Girls like. I’m Lorelei and Rory is Ashleigh. Instead of rejecting the wealth, privilage and etc……like her, I rejected the faith and the the restraints in myself that I found within it. I didn’t like how it made me feel. It just wasn’t right for me. Just like some people love things, but others can’t stand it. I felt alone for years. From the time my mom was in the nursing home – I barely existed to myself and tried to be invisible to my dad. I didn’t have a great relationship with him before. And when he was around, he wouldn’t say much. It was like… legally, we were responsible to coexist. We did the bare minimum. Every once in a while, he would extend a courtesy. Hence why I love thinking about coming back from church one night in our driveway in Negaunee, MI. Through the windshield of our car, he directed my gaze to the stars. Showing me the different stars and the constellations that were visible. It was the first time I knew where and when abouts Orion’s Belt/Orion show itself.

I divorced my ex husband only to marry a wonderful man with whom I’ve enjoyed all of our years together. I’ve had not one, but two children. Ashleigh and Darrian. I got my GED in 1999 at NWTC, worked a variety of low paying jobs, low value jobs, smoked cigarettes and from time to time, consumed alcohol. Dealt with parental challenges as they came forward. Ashleigh’s multiple hospitalizations (psych), diagnosis, complications, lack of self care, etc… shelter care, court processes, constant anger, fear, and withdrawn. Anger at the system that got me there, afraid of what’s in front of me, and withdrawn in participation – because everything is just too hard. More crappy jobs, more anxiety and depression, quit smoking cigarettes, Ashleigh stress, school stress, work stress, love stress, sexual trauma stress, and trying to keep everyone at bay. No one sees through the looking glass. No one.

APAC broke me. Working for a company – I took a phone call that mega triggered my PTSD and I left and never went back. I avoided any contact with them. I broke. Filed for disability with aid of a no pay unless you win attourney. Got disability, still broke, but can pay some bills. Dad helping all the time. Same type stresses as normal poverty – but with an Emotionally disturbed child and one being distressed by the disturbed child. That by the way you can never fully protect them from. Child lies about pregnancies, one does and loses. The other that eventually does gives birth so far away and can’t afford to get there. Other child dies. Won’t ask for help. Have to be strong. Have to not let anyone see. Have to not fracture. Stay strong-ish.

SSDI approved me for disability insurance. And after a few years, I got rid of my disability insurance because I was now working full time. Covid-19 happened, changed jobs. Got a good paying job and a great home with two amazing dogs and an amazing.

I think part of my PTSD has been dealing with the strong sense of emotion and panic involved in that trauma, or multiple traumas – in my case. I have been in constant strings of panic for decades. And it’s exhausting. And I think I might be coming on the other side a little bit.

First of all, I’m remembering bits that I thought were gone. Part of that had to do with looking over old pictures, homework, listening to a record on a new record player, spending time with Brian and Meredith – and talking, making plans, standing up for myself (in general), and trying to take time out for myself. I even started dressing better and hope to be able to learn how to do my make up nicer. I have possibilities to grow with the company I work for – which thrills me to no end. My relationship with my husband is getting stronger and I feel more competent and less desperate. I am accepting of the future and what it holds and less wonder why someone won’t accept me. It’s still there, but it’s much less than it used to be. I just have to try to hold on through the tough times.

I still feel like a shoe is going to drop any moment too… but, let’s hope it takes a long long time.