I do feel a weight has left me. I had seriously been considering contacting the person I wrote about in my blog post. John thought it a very bad idea. When I thought it through I realised he was right. When he said they had been cruel I thought that was OTT but again he was right. I just was still in denial. Not now.
Denial has got me into a lot of trouble in my life! I was taught well though. I grew up in a family where denial was mandatory. Despite me going into denial through my life, I did eventually break the family rule and thus was excommunicated. Best thing that ever happened to me.
I sit here with my dogs around me, hubby at work until Thursday. I am content again. I know the recent changes are genuine because I can sit and watch tv without being restless, even without knitting, if I choose to. I have never been able to be that relaxed. I have finally let myself off the hook. Accepted where I am. Accepted it all really. No constant battling to force change.
Going with the flow.
July 21, 2015
July 20, 2015
July 7, 2015
July 2, 2015
June 30, 2015
Some time before I lost the battle to stay in the comfort of sleep (yes, surprisingly, sleep is good and restful, unplagued by fear), I vaguely saw a man in a dark suit putting stuff on my side table which somehow my mind knew was Pepsi Max and my first lot of drugs for the day. He was trying not to wake me and I wasn’t asleep but also not awake. In my memory it is all foggy. I reached my hand out to his, and I think kissed goodbye. I would think it all a dream if it were not for the fact of the drink and drugs next to the bed and John not being here.
It is but two weeks today since The Fall. It seems longer ago when I think of it now but at times it feels like it was just hours ago. The Fall has irrevocably changed me and my life. I try to ignore tomorrow but it picks at me, like birds in confusion and terror tearing at my skin. I feel it but it is known to me that this is just my fight or flight system firing off and breaking through the pain killers. So much so that John lifts a hand to scratch is ear or something mundane and my body reacts by ducking and beginning to run tho it just starts to fall and John grabs me, effectively keeping me on my feet. He said I should sit and I told him I was okay, that my body just reacted quickly to his movement. I feel bad because he has never hit me in 34 years but my body isn’t reacting to John but to events many years ago. And there are still those who dismiss PTSD (I used to be one). I read the other day that muscles do indeed have memory otherwise we couldn’t make them grow through exercise. All I know is I jumped out of my skin because of the distant past not because of that moment.
I am afraid. I have been all of my life. I have always had adrenalin and cortisol flowing through me, ready to fight or run but unable to do either. I didn’t know any of this at the time. I didn’t even really know I was afraid. I just knew I was bad and weak. I didn’t know I was neither of those things. I didn’t know my brain was doing it’s best to save me. As I could neither run nor fight I shut down, disassociated, depersonalised until I was no longer present. I do this still today. Something triggers it and I am no longer present. John has seen it. Only one friend has seen it and I think she found it eerie but she wasn’t phased and just waited until I came back. She had heard me tell her these things so I think she knew pretty quickly what had happened.
Fear, it is said, is the opposite of love. I only know that I did not love those I was afraid of. I also knew by the time I was seven that to love meant to be wounded and abandoned all over again but no matter how hard I tried not to I could not help but like or love others and pets. I could not feel loved. I longed for it and this me easy pickings for adults who violated me and told me it was love and as they did not hurt me and touched me gently, I felt safe. And I blocked out the memories of whatever it was that caused the bleeding. I was in my 30’s before this little bombshell exploded and I realised how duped I had been, how foolish. And I knew then what caused the bleeding.
Love and faith and trust and security were all denied me. I had hope to see me through but it was damaging hope. I took the blame and responsibility for it all because then I could imagine myself just getting it right. Right enough to stop the fear and the agony under it.
It was a false hope. In reality I was powerless. I did not know there was nothing I could do, no change I could make, that would stop all of it. It wasn’t me. It was them. I was 50 when I realised that. I was not abused because of who I am but but because of who they are.
Now I am in this dark place yet again. I fought so hard live life regardless and I was going to allow my body to stop me. I really did believe that if I kept active and positive I would not get worse, it would not progress. I was going to be happy and successful dammit.
I now know this isn’t true and my body did stop me and there is this hole in my life which is full of fear and I am naked as I reach out for help from a power I don’t understand at all.
I have this awful feeling that I need longer than I have to heal.
June 26, 2015
I awoke after deep sleep not disturbed by tendrils of a bad dream reaching out to pull me back into the darkness where my fear is naked and fresh, despite having always been with me. No, the night had been free of that.
Luque, Mary-Grace and Whitney were all on John’s side of the bed. He was up and not there. The room was dark and sultry and I had to call him several times, so loudly I thought I would have a sore throat.
I bit down on my panic. I couldn’t move, my body as yet refusing to awake despite it’s obvious presence being felt with shards of pain shooting around my body, as if my body were a gaming machine with various areas competing to see which part could hurt the most.
Eventually John appeared. I wanted to scream at him about how he should have his hearing aids in but I resisted. After all he had entered our room carrying my relief, medication, and a bottle of Pepsi Max.
He found the remote that controlled my side of the bed and he handed it to me so I could raise myself into a sitting position. I am feeling low and tearful, my body trembles as it comes to the full cacophony of it’s life.
Slowly I start to swallow my drugs, starting with the small leading up to the large, the final one having to be chewed, once a pleasure now chewed with a plea not to gag.
Now I stayed sitting glad for the slight breeze though the open window and the light brightening my face. I look at John as he stands, side on to me, looking out of the window. I feel a mixture of deep love for him, gratitude for the way he takes care of me without asking and without resentment, and a deep shame toward myself for having become so dependent.
Teetering on the edge as my tears were, I made them stay put as I told John that all my teenage fears had come true-I was useless and pathetic and the terror of once again ending up being ‘cared for’ in a home only kept at bay with the knowledge that I know how to make sure this never happens. I assume that my husband goes on that journey before I. I don’t want him to live in the shadow of ice that is the cruelty of loss and this only after finding ones way back to the surface and breaking the ice that encases one or there is no fight, no reaching up to the surface in which case I have no idea what would happen.
I have fought for every breath all of my life and do not know how not to.
Tiredness brings me to an end. For now.
December 5, 2014
My physical pain has increased a great deal recently. I cannot stand up for more than a few minutes without severe pain from my hips down my legs, both of them. Feeding the dogs has become very difficult because I have to be on my feet for longer than five minutes and by the time I am on to the last two the base of my spine has started to wobble like jelly it is the most peculiar feeling.
The result of this is that I am going to be put on the maximum dose of gabapentin which is for neuropathy and epilepsy although in my case it’s for the neuropathy. I’m also to be given 10 mg tablets of morphine which I’ve only just been taken off to go onto the pink 20 mg tablets and my doctor has told me to take an extra 10 when I am feeding the dogs which means I am going to have to take them an hour before an time it properly. Sometimes I don’t think doctors quite get it. I am just going to have to feed the dogs as normal and hope I get to the last two before I fall.
Yes, I have been falling much more. Only once outside when I went all the way down. This was at the swimming pool. Other times I am with John or talking to someone in Tesco and they grab me when they see part to wobble. People are very kind.
I have been on 200 mg of sertraline for almost 2 weeks now and it has definitely made all the difference. I’m not sure that I’m quite back to Colin yet but I’m close. 200 mg is the highest one can go with this drug so if it doesn’t do the job completely something else will have to be added. I just hope it doesn’t need it. Time will tell. I can’t believe though how much I have changed since I’ve been taking the medication.
I did not believe in depression as an illness before. A lot of the people I knew who were on antidepressants were still flocking depressed or I believe they were just a unhappy or liked to my moan. I thought that antidepressant drugs were a calm designed to make the drug companies billions in profit.
I was absolutely completely wrong. I had never experienced depression until now and it has taught me a great deal. that there is absolutely nothing I could do about it apart from take the medication. It was nothing that I did, it was nothing that happened to me, all the things that did happen to me this year yes caused me to feel grief which is completely different.
With the depression all I wanted to do was die. I lost interest in everything my talents, watching TV, and I could only do the basics for the dogs. I could see absolutely no point to living and I convinced myself that John would be better off without me.
On the day that I decided I was going to take the mixture of morphine and sleeping pills that would work painlessly by stopping my lungs breathing while I was asleep I received an email from my friend Jane and the cause of the time difference between arrived as I was basically counting out the pills. Whilst I have not read any me emails for a while I read hers and she said something in it that I understood and made sense to me.
She told me that depression has a mind of its own and no matter how much I wouldn’t do it because it would hurt John and my friends depression didn’t care and depression would make me do things I wouldn’t normally do and would make me very easily over the top upset by something somebody said and also one comes to believe that no one truly likes m let alone love me. all I was to John was a mill around his neck. I really believed all these things and more.
Thank goodness for friends with insight who could tell just from my Facebook writing that I was severely depressed and not just unhappy and was rightly scared that I was working up to topping myself. Thank goodness for Facebook. Thank goodness for my ability to write as truthfully as I can. I say as truthfully as I can because we can never be completely certain. A good example was some of what I was writing when I was severely depressed-I was writing truthfully as far as I was concerned but what I was writing wasn’t true but because I was in denial I didn’t know that. W
November 8, 2014
Writing on my blog has been very difficult of late.
I have been suffering from depression and I have tried to hide it. I felt unable to write on here because after all the main reason for writing my blog to help my Fellow survivors. To share with you how I had recovered from my childhood abuse. Therefore, when I became depressed my first reaction was deep shame and I felt unable to continue to write here. I was writing on Facebook because I was getting instant feedback and it saved my life because two people who knew me and knew how unlike myself I had become and they could read between the lines of what I was saying, that I no longer wanted to live.
This could not have happened on my blog. However I made the fundamental mistake of connecting my depression with my childhood abuse. I have very good GPs and may have explained to me how depression can hit anybody at any time for any reason and to no reason and that it was particularly hard on people like myself who are intelligent and who want to know the ins and outs and the reasons. This has been the most difficult part of this disease. I have no doubt at all now that it is a disease. I started on medication and have gradually increased the dose and I think the next time I see my doctor in two weeks it will be increased once more but that will be the maximum.
Depression can sneak up on you as it did on me. The last 2 1/2 years of my showing dogs that was all I did because I was fighting my disease, my physical disease, which I wasn’t going to allow to beat me. It took all the energy I had. I stopped knitting I stopped reading I stopped everything but swimming. Because all I could do was sleep and bath and groom dogs. I eventually realised I had to stop.
This could well have been the trigger for the depression but and this is the difficult part to understand it is not the reason I am depressed. I have come to terms with the dog showing and I am glad that I no longer do it it is such a relief for me to not do it any more. What is much more telling of my depression is the fact that I do not die yarn or knit any more because I can’t find my muse for it.When a person stops doing the the things they love, like I have also stopped listening to music, this is another sign that one may be depressed.
Depression is NOT having an off day feeling miserable. It isn’t feeling down for a day or a few days. It is like being swallowed by a big dark cloud and one is trapped. One often wakes, if one can sleep, in tears. Or one doesn’t get up at all, stays in pj’s, take care of washing themselves, cleaning their teeth etc.It is barely being able to do anything. I have dogs so I have had to feed them. And let them in and out of the garden so I have not been able to stay in bed duvet diving.
I fear that I may have given the impression that once recovered from child, abuse, it was all over and done with. Though I feel sure I must said that there is no no getting over it, just learning to live with it. I don’t think I ever covered depression because it never came up. Well now it has and so I am sharing it with with you.
It is NOT a sure sign of abuse and isn’t even a necessary apart of abuse or recovery. It can just happen as it did with me.
I always said I would be honest here and I have avoided being so. Well, now I have been. I am still depressed, depressed enough that I still considered a suicide risk but I have a lot of support and self knowledge and knowledge in general so I am safe.
None of this means that my recovery from abuse was fake or that what I have been sharing with you is fake. It just means I was hit in the head by something I was not expecting.
November 4, 2014
I have put our holiday forward yet again this time to 22 February. I realise that 4 January is only eight weeks away and my antidepressants have not settled yet and my eating is not settled yet and I generally am not settled yet. As usual I always think I can do too much too soon. We’re still ahead financially because we only had to pay an extra 200 bearing in mind that we’d already been refunded 800.
Last night in bed I suddenly realised I had not taken my nighttime set of pills which are important because they are for my liver and my heart and my brain I started the process of getting up and John said you stay there while going get them and he was gone before I had time to argue but when it came back I said to him why do you do that? I can go and get my own tablets! he said the kindest thing in reply: I hate to see you struggled to get out of bed when it is much easier for me to just go down and get your pills and get back and you’d still be struggling to get out of bed. I hadn’t even thought of that because I just take my “problems” as part of my daily life and I don’t think about them and for two nights a week and days a week I have to deal with myself anyway. I’m afraid I would not be as kind as him not because I am mankind but because I just wouldn’t think in the way that he thinks. I nag at him about his hearing aids but for completely selfish reasons. When he is not wearing them he does not speak loudly enough for me to hear and I also have to shout at him for him to hear me and I get very tired of that very soon. It is also dangerous for him to not wear them because he can’t hear traffic coming at the Zebra Crossings. he thinks they will just stop but he is not a driver and doesn’t realise that we often don’t have the stopping distance that he gives it is taking quite a while to get him to act set his hearing loss fortunately we have a very good audio system and I bought him Grado PS500’s headphones. Yet again I must have foreseen the problems that were going to arise. I can’t believe we were both sick during the week of the holiday we had booked and that I moved to January and they have now moved to February. But that move is just more sensible for me to give me enough time to get well properly.
I do read and take in everything that is written on here even though it appears that I haven’t. It just takes some time for the penny to drop with me I can’t just read something and change just like that I have too slowly digest it and understand it. it can take some concepts months to settle into my brain but once it has it has the good and I no longer make that same mistake. I think also because I have followed ill given advice before but I am very wary of it now because I have believed some utter shirt in the past because I have looked up to people while I don’t look up to people any more and I don’t look down on people any more I look at their eyes. Even beggars on the street I make eye contact with whether I give them anything or not. The eye contact is to show them that I recognise that they are a human being just the same as me but in different circumstances. I do try to keep to the point honestly you should hear me when I’m talking I go all round the world back. So anyway I just wanted to let you know that your messages of encouragement never go ignored even if I forget to click like it’s not because I dislike them if I did I have a dislike button I can press.
On the subject of stubbornness: I thought my hands were feeling better and so I started to net a pair of socks on 2 mm needle is after 20 times of having to undergo it having not been able to get past the first two rows. And yet my toes on 2.25 mm needle is went like a dream. So I guess 2 mm needles are no longer a viable option for me and that really does upset me. Only knitters would understand this.