The Right Thing

Every year at this time of year, I find myself analyzing my relationship with my mother.  You see she was only my mother for 13 years of my life in reality, but in my heart she was always there.  I was adopted straight from the hospital, I was raised knowing I was.  I had this illusion in my head of who and what my mother would be.  I was 25 when I was finally blessed with the opportunity to meet her and be a part of her life.  Who I imagined her to be and who she really were most definitely did not match, my mother was an addict/alcoholic, who had given 3 of her 4 girls away.  My mother made a choice to give me up, not because she loved me but because the man she was with didn't want me.  I often wondered growing up if life would of been better with her.  I have come to understand and believe she did what was in my best interest.  I find that hard to say as I was raised with a pedophile, but I listened to my little sisters life, the one who was raised with her, and I don't envy her one little bit.  She lived a hard sad life and passed away at 38 years of age.  I do know today that I am right where I am supposed to be.  Missing a mother that did the best she could with what she knew.  I also know that I miss her and love her even if she was not whom I  imagined her to be.  I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to know her.  I also feel proud that I have been able to raise my own children and to break the cycle of addictions and abuse that plague my biological family.  For that I give God the glory, because not only am I free but I am grateful and happy as well.  Rest in Peace mother dear.

Waiting

I am at a loss....I just can't seem to get close to men the way I would like too. I either don't do something right or don't do enough. I so don't want a relationship based on sex....I want an intimate relationship.  To me intimacy means letting you see into me. To understand and learn who I am in relationship to you. Am I wrong to want to wait to get sexually involved until I feel close, cause every time I don't wait part of me dies....and I feel broken again. I like being free from all the chaos of being a survivor and waiting to get sexual does that for me,.because I have not been able to have a long term relationship on a sexually based level. I need more or it feels horrible and I just want it over.  Then any feeling I might of had for you go away, this has taken along time to learn.

I want a relationship that is based on mutual, love, caring and support, that is healthy in every way.  I want someone who loves God as much as I do. I really don't think that is asking to much. So I wait,cause it is easier than dying slowly.  I trust that God will answer my prayers and someday just maybe I will be blessed with a relationship that has God first, for the rest will follow.

The Gifts

Tonight I remembered the GIFT.  My father who was a serial pedophile bought me a gift.  This was before I had any memory of the abuse.  I was surprised and in awe that he loved me that much.  You see it was not just any gift.  It was something my mother coveted.  It was a series of Bible story books.  Their were only so many available and my father bought them at a book auction at Bible camp that summer.  He paid an exorbitant amount of money for these books far more then they were worth.  I treasured them and took them with me when I ran away from home.  Little did I know at the time the price I had paid for those books.

The last gift I remember my father giving me was $500 dollars.  I found it strange as I had not had anything to do with them for a few years, if I could help it.  I met him at a motel in the town I was living in.  He was with my little brother.  I found it strange as he told me my older sister had said some bad things about him, and that when the police come to ask me to tell them nothing had happened.  And that some might think this money was a bribe, but I he made it clear to me it was a gift.  I still had no memory of the abuse, and I still had my lovely books. Ii so needed that money to go to university, but I remember the feeling that went with that money.  It felt ugly, dirty and I didn't know why.  

Many years later when the memories had returned I knew the price I had paid for those gifts was ore than anyone should ever have to pay.  I remember being so distraught when I had to leave my books behind...they were something wonderful my father had given me.  Not it was guilt my fathers guilt all wrapped up in a bow, for me to carry and treasure.  

Today I can let those books go, because i have a new father a heavenly Father, who doesn't bribe me or hid his sins in dazzling treasures.  I have a Father who wake me with the colors of dawn and put me to bed with a sunset.  Who only wants the best for me.  The hard part is believing I deserve it.  Go with God!

Proverbs 22:6 (King James Version)

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

This verse for me has rung so true.  I was raised in a very Christian home. I learned about respect for self and others ,honor and truth.  I learned about God and the Bible and gratitude.   i was able to learn these things in a very dysfunctional family, and for many years I did what I had to do to survive.  I partied and drank and drugged.  I had multiple marriages and common-law ones too.  I ran as hard and as fast as I could away from the insect and abuse as I could.  Suddenly I wake up and find myself in my early 40's and what do I look for, for the good from my past.  The things I can take with me from being a child, the lessons from God's word that I didn't think I could learn under those circumstances.  The word of God sank into me even though they were not modeled for me.  I had enough people around me that were not of my family that modeled the commandments for me that some how they became part of who I was.  I was also fortunate to have repressed  memorizes of the incest so I thought my parent were the best.  I thought they modeled the behavior I learned.  God loved me enough to let me sow my wild oats and still come home.  He met me on the path and put clean clothes on me and welcomed me back.  Today I strive to model for my little ones what I know they will come back to if necessary but with prayer and faith may never have to, as it will become a part of them they will carry with pride.  Go with God!

If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has power to move you, if the simple things of nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive. 
Eleonora Duse


This phrase caught my attention.  When did I come alive, I was always alive but I mean really alive , where the earth sang to me.  It was on Mere's Island while my husband and I and the 3 children where at Kakawis  treatment program.  Cut off from all outside influences I discovered the joy of the surf on the beach and the wind in the trees.  The smells of the ocean and of fresh cut grass.  I so loved these things as a child growing up, but they some how got lost between the incest and the beatings.  I am so glad God loves us enough to create such simple yet complicated creations for us to enjoy.  I am blessed to be alive and smelling, touching, tasting and seeing that the Lord is GOOD!!

Changes

Having grown up in a large family that I thought loved me, and then finding out it was all just for the publics view, I find myself in great distress over being loved by anyone.  

I am so uncomfortable having a church family that loves me just the way I am, with my bi-polar and C-PTSD and all.  I find myself constantly worried that I am not good enough or that I don't deserve to be loved.  I always wonder when they are going to pull the rug out from under me.   The fear and anxiety this is causing me, almost caused me to hurt myself, to create the chaos that I am so familiar with.  I so want to be loved as I am sure everyone does, but accepting it is one of the harder things I have ever done.  My mind is constantly looking to do more be more and I am at  loss as to what I could do for them in return, they don't need or seem to want anything but for me to be happy and loved.  This must be what it feels like to be loved..:) 

Depression Relapse

After almost five years without a serious relapse into depression I was hit with one this week.  My whold body screamed out in pain, and the random and sometimes insane thoughts that ran through my head were overwhelming.  I knew I was not safe in my own head.  So I took the following steps to ensure a sucessful out come.  No matter how painful and how humiliating it is to admit you need help, I know from my past experience with PTSD and Depression that it is much less painful to seek help before you do something stupid then after.

Many times through out my life i didn't take the necessary steps to stay safe, and my children were not safe either.  I would over dose or cut in fromt of them, and I would loose  them to the fall out of my actions.  So today I have two options of which I know the consequences.

1. Ignore the situation and pray it passes without getting medical attention, and possibly it will, but more than likly it will not and I will do something dumb in the moment of pain that will cause desaster for my children and me later.

or 

2.  I can feel this coming on, and seek immediate attention at the hospital.  I just moved to this town so I did not have the supports in place that I would of used instead, so the hospital was my only choice.  

Choice 1: would leave my children finding a mother who had attempted suicide and might of won, thus sending them to foster care. traumatized and lost.

Choice 2 :leaves me in charge of the out come and where my children go because I am being pro-active in my recovery.  I get to have them with people I trust, instead of the ministry taking over.  I get to see the hope of help coming soon.

I get to safety proof my house and make it safe for me to stay at until I can get the supports in place to deal with this new set of flashbacks and depression.  This means  getting all medication out of the house, having kids stay with my friends and taking the medications as prescribed.  

I chose Choice 2:

I went to the hopsital, got referrals I need to get hooking up with supports in my new city, I removed all medications from my home.  I put my children in a safe place where they would be loved and caredful with people who love them.  I slept in my own bed instead of the hospital psycho ward because I showed inisitve.  I will be getting the necessary counceling and supports in place this coming week.  And to day I look back at how much worse I could of made it by not knowing I needed help.

Thank you lord for giving me the courage to face this head on instead of running and letting the devil invade my heart and soul.  

I pray that each and everyone of you who suffers with the dark side of depression or PTSD, that you seek help as son as you feel the darkness moving in...it is ok to ask for help.

Life after Court

I was wondering if any of you have had to charge you father with incest, and what life was like for you after court? I charged my father along with 3 other victims and life for me has never been the same. I believed my family loved me even though I was adopted, but after charging my father, everything changed.  I was no longer welcome or invited to family functions .I miss them, and at times it is so very difficult to be alone, without family or even the memories I thought I had.

I have built a family of people I love and who love me back. Today my passion in life is to assist others who are going through situations like ours. If I can short circuit the destruction phase of of young people through sharing my life, then my journey to wholeness will have been a great success.  My greatest desire as a young teen was that someone, just one person from my church would of been there for me as a confidante or friend. Maybe I would not of spent 25+ years as a drug addicted alcoholic. I believe it was my duty to speak out and although at times the pain of rejection attacks me I know today that I have done the right thing. Today I am able to be that hand and friend I so badly needed for others. God is good to me.

I have found some peace around it through my relationship with God. I understand now that it is not about me, it is not what I have done that alienates my family but what or father did. Some people just are not ready to face the truth, and my family are some of them. I miss them and the memories of the family I thought I had very very much, and if I think about it it hurts very much. Today I think about myself a lot more than them...praise God. Today I am ok without them and I no longer believe that I am nothing without them. Today I value myself and there opinion of me matters very little. Today I am able to feel empathy for them and understand instead of hatred and anger. Today I can pray for them to be set free and I wish them the best always.

I have found peace in my soul without my family, and the best thing I can do for myself and my children is to build a strong and loving and supportive family for the ones who need it most.  My little ones and not so little ones, who will benefit from my willingness to share and grow.  Go with God!

THEN and NOW

As an adult I am responsible for my behavior, and actions.  I also have the power to control my thoughts.  Wow, I have power.  When I look at my early adult years, there were a lot of things I believed that left me feeling powerless and helpless.  I also didn't think I had any responsibility in the matter at hand.  How could I have created a situation where I was being abused?  I was the victim wasn't I?  If I only knew then what I know now I could of saved myself from years of abuse.
We do create our lives.  I play apart in where I want to go with my life and I get to trust God to do what is best for me.  I try to understand how I could of been so morally bankrupt and have such low self -esteem that I would allow people to treat me the way I did..  I see how my up bringing and the false beliefs I was given created in me behaviors and patterns that would take years to turn around.
I believed because I was abused at such a young age, sexual, emotionally and physically that somehow that was what life was all about.  That somehow everyone was living like this.  I believed that my parents were doing the right thing in beating me, because they would quote the Bible as they did it.  I believed that this was my lot in life and I could do nothing to change it.  I was wrong!!!  I got so caught up in just trying to stay alive all the while doing things that would of killed most people.
i spent years trying to understand my behavior and my lack of self care and love.  I made slow progress and would at times give up totally and sink into depression so great I would try to die anyway I could.  i would have great periods of sobriety and be doing great, then along would come another batch of repressed memories and off the deep end I would jump.  This was my healing process for years and years.  So what changed this time?
This time I am totally clean and sober from all street drugs and alcohol.  This time I changed everything.  I had to change people, places and things.  I had to change the toys I played with, the people I hung with and the places I went.  I had to change what I believed in and who I believed in.  I had to change what I thought about myself and others.  I had to be willing to believe in something greater than myself, a God of my understanding.  This didn't happen over night, and I am a work in progress, but today I am smiling and my heart and soul are content and free.  I am enjoying the process and look forward to the rest of my life for the first time ever.  I am not running marathons or where I want to be yet, but I am headed in the right direction.  for the first time in my life , my life is manageable and there is hope for a brighter tomorrow and a fulfilling future.  Today I like me, and what I am doing.  Today i don't look over my shoulder in fear.  today i give God the glory for the great thing He has done with me and for me.
Go with God, and remember it is progress not perfection.

Just for Today

Just for today I will trust that I am right where I should be.  God is guiding me on  a path I have never been on before.  It is strange and exciting and mysterious.  I have taken so many wrong turns trying to find my way back to myself, that I thought it might be time to let someone who already loves me take the wheel this time.

I grew up believing in God, loving God and knowing that I could trust in Him always.  I taught sabbath school to the little ones, I was in the church choir and helped with Vacation bible School every year. I went to church school for almost ten years.  Until I was caught with drugs on me at school and expelled.  I remember my mothers response to this situation, she took me on her lap and told me she loved me. This was such a strange response from the woman who so freely whipped us for minor indiscretions.  I was extremely confused.  I started sneaking out o the house to spend time with boys and one day, at fifteen, I walked away from it all .  I walked away from my family and my church and God.  I kept walking until I got so lost I didn't recognize anyone or anything familiar.  I got so lost I couldn't even recognize myself.  Who was that girl looking back at herself in the rear view mirror?  Who was this stranger that answered to my name?

She drank and smoked pot and always was on the arm of some guy or another.  She never stayed in one place to long as if someone she was being chased by some unseen predator.  She had nightmares that caused her to wake screaming and begging for her life from unseen demons.  At seventeen she was full blown alcoholic, who found herself on the streets of Vernon turning tricks for money to drink and a place to sleep.  She walked through life in a haze always under the influence of something or other.  She was a rough tough cream puff.  Her mantra to life at this time was that "she was fat and ugly and mean as could be".  She was always welcome at the bar and spent much of her time trying to stay one step ahead the devil.  Her self worth came through being wanted and admired for her overt sexuality and her money was made as a private dancer.  She sought protection from the streets where ever she could and at nineteen she met Prince charming in a nightclub.

He was so tall and blond and ever so handsome.  He was a baseball player and didn't drink.  This was to good to be true.  She just happened to not be drinking that night not because she didn't want to but because she was to sick from the night before's adventures to drink a drop with out getting seriously ill.  Instead of telling him this however she lied and said she didn't drink either.  They started dating and her desire to belong to him was enough to keep her sober.  Two months later she took him home to meet her parents who she had not had much contact with since leaving.  She was thrilled that they liked him even though he was very much older than her and with the blessing of her family the wedding took place five months after they met.  She was finally going to be happy and loved and cherished forever.  Her dreams were coming true and she was sober.  They were going on their honeymoon, and their life together was going to be perfect.

She woke up the next morning on the floor of the hotel room.  She was sporting a huge black eye and some serious bruises to her ribs and legs.  She was confused and heart broken and afraid to ask what she had done.  Last thing she remembered was standing in front of the television in hopes of getting her new husbands attention.  It was their wedding night after all.  How was she to know she could not compete with  the football game that was on at that time.  Stupid girl would never try that again.  She stumbled into the shower and found herself lost in memories she didn't think belonged to her.  memories of someone touching her as a child. She got violently ill. what was happening to her?  Who could she trust now?  Something was wrong, something way more wrong than anything her husband could ever do to her.  Shaking violently and unable to stop she faced him.  He had gone to the gift shop and purchased a sun hat and glasses.  He held her and kissed the madness away.  The nightmares were unreal and the pills she took did nothing to help. She shared with him the memories as best she could and by the end of the honeymoon he was ready to get the marriage annulled if she didn't get some professional help.  They stopped at the psychologist on the way back from the honeymoon and when he was unable to convince the Dr. to lock her up and throw away the key, he got the next best thing,  more medication.   One thing became very clear not only was she is wife but she belonged to him.

She found herself living in the Queen Charlotte Islands hundreds of miles from anything familiar, and six hours out in the ocean.  No escaping him now so better make the best of it.  She went to work as the town bartender, while he worked as the town drug dealer, bootlegger and only taxi driver.  Here she came in contact with Indians.  She was not fond of this as she had been raised to believe that Indians were undesirables.  She was so glad she was an Eskimo, at least she wasn't like them, but they were good to her as her husband was the chosen son of the Chief.  Spousal abuse was the norm up there.  She watched her friends get beaten and she took her share as long as she could. He became more and more violent and after seven months and three attempts to leave she finally got away . Broken and crushed she ran to her family, and showed her mother the massive bruises all over her.  She was told to not divorce or she would be taken out of the family will,  she had made her bed she better lay in it.  To lay in it meant a slow and painful death.  Something in her would not accept that.  Three attempts and many many miles later she found herself back in Vernon, alone and still running against the wind.

How could this be what God had planned for her?  how many years must she live like this?   This was just the beginning but most definitely not the end.  God had started a work in her and He was by no means done.   Was it possible that she was right where she was supposed to be?  How could that be?  Looking back now I can say it was, but in that ,moment in time, it was hell.

Today I am grateful that God always finishes what He starts.  Today I sing a new song and I am finding myself again.  Today I know that Gos was with me through all the dark hours of my life.  Today I trust Him like no other.  Today I am right where i am supposed to be.

When you don't see it as Abuse!!

I have been thinking about this for a while now.  My life has changed so much over the last 5 years.  I look back and am shocked at the abuse I took on a daily basis.  At that time in my life I had been through so much severe abuse that I was happy to being in a relationship that was less abusive.  By less, I mean I was not getting beaten every day, just once in a while.  I was still taking abuse and I still lived as if I deserved it.  What has changed?  What makes me think that I had no idea what abuse was?  I am now in a totally abusive free place for the first time in my life.  I am free from abuse from anyone in my life and from myself as well.  For so long if I was not with someone who abused me I would find ways to abuse myself, be it physically, mentally or emotionally, and at times even sexually. 

So what changed?  I began to value myself.  I began a relationship with God.  I struggled to understand a love so deep that one would give their only son to die for it.  I began daily conversations with Him and acting as if he was right there with me.  I struggled to clean up my addictions, and to deal with the feelings and the questions as they arose.  Feelings of shame and guilt and remorse.  Fear, sadness and loss.  I stood on His promises to be there for me. 

Questions like, there has got to be more to life than being clean and sober? I started hanging out with other people going the same way.  Not everyone was as serious as me but at least they were not in active addiction.  I started practicing what I was learning.  I started doing for others.  I found wonderful ways to get out of myself and give to others through volunteering and helping where ever I could.  I spent three years, dealing with physical feelings from memories and past abuse, in pain to the point of immobility, knowing and believing that this to would pass.  At times, I knew that without doing for others I would never be able to do this for myself.  At times the only reason I stayed clean and moving ahead was because of my commitment to my volunteer work and the responsibility I had committed to.  After a while doing this I could see a difference.  I was moving ahead. the time of self pity and neglect had passed.  I no long hung around people who were grossly abusive but I still didn't see some of the abuse as it is subtle.  I still let my X come and stay at my home, living off of me and the kids, because of the guilt I felt about leaving.  I still paid for his drugs to keep the peace.  I still let my older children talk disrespectfully to me and of me, because of the quilt I felt for not being a very good mother for them.  I still abused myself, by over loading my plate with responsibility as if I had to make up for lost time.  I still beat myself up mentally for being Bi-Polar.  I still dated men who used me as an object and never cared for me as a person. 

So now what?  I was finding a voice, to be able to share some of the progress.  I started attending a church.  God was becoming more and more a stable point in my life.  I was growing faith.  The ability to believe that He would complete that which He had started. God was consistently putting people in my life to assist me, people on the internet who encouraged and supported me and valued me.  People in my church who showed me what true Christian love can be like.  Without the guilt and expectations I had experienced as a child in church.  I was beginning to understand LOVE.  For all to long love was such a negative thing.  Love was pain and sorrow and dirty.  Love was sexual.  love was for the lucky.  Love was an oxymoron.   Love was bitter sweet, but mostly bitter.  Today through the grace of God I know real love.  Not he convoluted love of my pedophile father and abusive battering mother, but the love of children of God.  The ones who love just to love.  They loved me until I could love myself.  For the first time in my life it is okay to tell someone you love them.  I don't have to do things i don't want to do to be loved.  Imagine that.  I also am not as afraid that saying I love you means I will be stocked or abused in some way.  I now understand God's mercy and love is infinite.

I am now in a place I have never been before, ever, a place without abuse.  I am so looking forward to sharing and growing and discovering what God has in store.  I so want this for each of you.  I wish you all the faith of a mustard seed, as it can move mountains.:)  Go with God.

Creating stability out of Chaos

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Having spent many years relocating frequently to stay a head of my abusers, staying in one spot today is very difficult to do. How do I give my children the roots and foundation they need if I am constantly relocating? I have found a way to deal with this....don't act on the impulse to move every time it comes to visit. I am sitting here thinking about the things I used to do to keep safe, like relocating and always leaving and coming home different routes so that I had less chance of being followed. I would always rearrange the furniture some times daily, just to make sure that if someone came in at night they would not know the layout. I remember always having my webcam set to reverse image, for the same reason. I stopped listening to music so that I could hear better. I even rented places with squeaky doors or a step that would make noise so that I could tell if someone was there. I became paranoid and so full of fear my life became very limited and hardly worth living. These were coping behaviors I had honed and cultivated since I was very young. Listening at night for my father, then later my partners, always  hyper vigilant.

The only time I could relax was under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Then I was not afraid of anything or anyone. I felt a hundred feet tall and bullet proof. I was able to have relationships with people. I never thought much about the quality of the relationships or if i was being used or abused. I was just grateful to not be alone in my head and afraid. When I would drink I was dominate and took control of everything in my home, when I was sober and hung over I was submissive and often took the brunt of the anger of whatever partner I was living with at that time. In between relationships I would have periods of sobriety and sink into deep depressions, struggling with being bi-polar and doing my best to build a life for my children yet again. I would take some classes and seek counselling. I would see psychiatrists and try to understand how I had ended up here. I would take my bi-polar and depression medication and start to feel better. I would get a job and start socializing.  Life would start to look better.then the nightmares would come, and the memories and feelings and smells. I would inevitably find myself sitting in a psychiatric unit coloring after a suicide attempt. I would color for days, not thinking about anything, not feeling anything. Medicated to the point of numbness. I would go home to resume my parenting and thinking I was cured, everything was great I didn't feel anything. No highs no lows, nothing at all. Eventually I would relapse and find myself at the bar, mostly out of loneliness and the belief that I needed to be in a relationship, that the only way I could have one was if I drank and drugged.

This cycle continued for many years. It never got any better, the depression and nightmares and addictions getting worse every round.  More medication, more abuse, more sobriety and more addictions.

I started seeing a counselor through mental Health, we started talking about my family. For so long I believed I came from the perfect family.  Mother and father were still married, they loved God and I had plenty of siblings to love and adore me.  We owned a home, two in fact, and I got the best education money could buy.       How could it be that out of all twelve children only me and a couple others could be so messed up?  How could i be so ungrateful for everything they had done for me?  Didn't I know that I was special, that I had been chosen?  I was adopted you see, they had picked me to be part of their family and the least I could do was make them proud.  What a miserable failure I was.  No wonder they didn't talk to me often, no wonder they  believed adopted children were inherently bad.  I was proof of that.  A drop out,a drunk, a horrible parent, and nuts to boot.  I was most definitely not some thing to be proud of.  I was not even good enough to be called someone, I was a useless good for thing waste of their love and money.  Shame on me.

PT 2 Drawing My Reality

Sad and Lonely by Pamela Abraham| Lulu Poetry

Sad and Lonely by Pamela Abraham| Lulu Poetry

i wrote this poem at one of the darkest points in my life.....infinite sadness does not have to last forever. praise God!

Link to Family Watchdog from your site

Link to Family Watchdog from your site: "Find sex offenders near me"

Being Bi-Polar

When I Miss My Meds...Living Bi-polar

Wow the day started out so stressful, I forgot to take my medication. I was angry and overwhelmed with anger. I so took it out on my little ones. I made them clean the mess they had made..that is not bad but screaming at them to get it done NOW was. In my mind i could see my mother, dragging me by the hair to the bedroom forcing me to bend over the edge of the bed and beating me severely. i could see my father sending me to the back of the property to get a willow switch so he could beat me with it. It had to be just the right size and was used on hands feet and butt. I can feel the lashes and hear my screaming to this day. I look at my little ones and wonder how two parents could be so viciously mean to such little children and have no feelings around it. I feel so guilty having forgotten my medication cause I know my little ones do not deserve the harshness they receive from my mouth. I pray for God to help me through the hours it will take for my meds to kick in. The memories and the anger are overwhelming.

     I took the kids for a drive to the beach, and almost came home because I was not sure I could be nice in public, being bi-polar there are times I know better than to go out, but I also knew that being alone with my children in this frame of mind was not a smart thing to do. Getting out of the car and being in public is very hard to do on days like this, but i needed to be somewhere my children would be safe and would get along. For some strange reason at the beach they get along just fine, no hitting or poking or teasing. I however sat on the blanket with my hands over my ears as the sound of other people was like nails on a chalk board. I grated at me so badly. How dare they be happy, when I am stuck in my head. How dare others have what I so desperately wanted, sanity. I knew that my thinking was irrational, that this was just a manic phase of my mental illness and it would pass. I did what I knew would help, I started texting anyone who would listen.  I ended up with my best friend, I told him what was happening and how I as feeling.  Just telling someone helped a lot. Watching my children play so happily gave me the time I needed to get a grip on my reality. Three simple things that helped me make it through. Safety first for me and the kids, tell someone who is able to reach you if need be, and remember that time will change your perspective.  I am glad today I rarely do this to myself any more.  This in itself is major progress.

     For me this is such a change, raising my first two children 15 years ago, I always had them in respite care on weekends, and I avoided them as much as possible. When I would forget my medication, which was often, I would cause disaster where ever I went. I would check myself into the psychiatric unit, or self harm anyway necessary. Telling someone what not even a thought. There was nothing wrong with me, but you better stay out of my way cause my tongue was a viper and I would cut you to the core with my words. I would throw things at you or do what ever it took to make you hurt more than me. I like to see the progress and acceptance of myself and where I am today is key to my healing. I know that as a direct result of my connection to my Higher Power, whom I now turn everything over to, I can look forward to the day of complete restoration in me.

     The kids and I talked about my mental illness, as no way want them to blame themselves or think they have done something wrong. They know I love them and they were glad that we went to the beach. After an hour of chilling on a blanket we went for a walk around the pond and enjoyed the wonderful summer day that God had blessed us with. Then home for a BBQ and a movie. I am truly blessed and I hope that if you are suffering from mental health issues that this gives you hope, progress is possible and acceptance is the key.

PS.  Prayer is something I have come to rely on, and please be patient God is not finished with me yet.