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.