The Secret About Me

I am very adept at putting “normal” on my face and hiding my real self from most people. However, sometimes anxiety strikes me and I become overwhelmed with whatever it is that I am feeling overwhelmed about.

Why am I this way? This is how I feel…

It feels like so many people during my life have taken so many chunks of me that I am continually morphing into less of a person – mostly because the very same people that have taken those pieces, harshly judge me, causing me to feel that I am less – not worthy – and broken.

It feels like these particular people who have “picked me to death” throw stones at me and with each stone which is thrown, it feels like I am becoming less and less.

Fear consumes me; fear of more painful rejection, fear of making mistakes, fear of being punished, fear of being abandoned, and fear of being lost. My fear is the child of low self esteem who was conceived from the actions and words of unkind people.

All my life I have had to become less so certain people in my life could become more. Because, to them, to become more was to take away from someone else. You know that type.

So I struggle. I struggle with anxiety. I struggle to rid my thoughts of those horrible memories and to fill my mind only with that which is kind, and good, and true, and beautiful.

I must forgive. I must forgive my attackers and I must forgive myself. I am working on it. Sometimes, it is just so hard. So damn hard.

Now that I have told you my secret… I’m not sure if I can hit “Publish” — because it is so much easier to hide.

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Strangeville

I just finished reading a delightful book, titled, “Strangeville,” by Kenneth Tingle.

Young John has lost his parents to tragedy and finds himself alone and in a dead-end job. He is on his way to commit suicide but finds that he has to “take a crap” first. He worries that if he kills himself, this bodily function will automatically happen and all the creatures of the forest would then come and eat his body. So, he changes his mind and goes back home.

His aunt, who has not talked to him in ten years calls him and invites him to come stay with them. He is happy to take their offer and sets out on a road trip to their home.

Along the way, John becomes lost and ends up in a town called Strangeville. This town is something “somewhat” similar to the lost city of Atlantis. Except this town is not only “off the grid” but is frozen in time. The 1950's to be exact. And the residents have no idea there is an “outside world” out there very different from their own.

Strangeville has a strange and hilarious way of conquering John's desire to die.

All those hillbilly's and hicks in this novel will capture your heart and your imagination as you are taken on a trip through Strangeville – the “Twilight Zone.”

I give this book five stars because I loved every minute of it.

 

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One of Those Days

Sometimes it isn't easy to fight against all the negativity that has come our way in our lifetime. There are days that all that negativity in my life bans together to gang up on me. Today is one of those days.

Do you ever feel like all the harsh words and wrongful deeds ever done to you and all the mistakes that you have made in the past, are all tumbling down on top of you? It sure feels like that to me today. I keep hearing all these negative and hurtful things being said to me and seeing all the mistakes that I have made.

I REFUSE TO LISTEN TO THOSE NEGATIVE THOUGHTS!

Instead, I am allowing the sonshine to fill up my beautiful and tortured soul.

Picture from Pinterest. (Thank you Pinterest).

 

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Victim Victim Fool Fool!

In non-functional families (I am trying to avoid using the term, “dysfunctional”), there is always at least one person that is in the victim role. Unfortunately, in my family, that would be me.

I grew up being the victim sometimes gracefully but most of the time, not so gracefully.

My personality is such that I automatically trust trusted people. I was stinkin' nice. Always believing in the “golden rule.” Treat people nice and they will treat you nice.

I spent my childhood being chased down the street by my sister with a butcher knife in her hand because I “borrowed” some of her clothes without asking. We fought constantly and often used our fists. She was selfish and self-centered, and I was always in the “survival” mode around her. For some reason, my mother thought this was okay.

I learned to avoid her as much as I possibly could. I learned that my mother would always take up for my sister – to her, she was perfect and I was the “problem” child. I stayed at my grandmother's as much as I possibly could.

With my sister's abuse and the emotional abuse from our father, our home was my nightmare.

In today's world, people think of victims as fools. We are fools because we are considered mindless and weak. (Maybe that is my problem, I am mindless and weak).

When I married I looked forward to being away from the place I was constantly being victimized. Finally! I would be loved, wanted, and needed, and would never again be a victim. What I found, however, is, I did not know any other way to be, but as a victim. When I divorced him, he victimized me even more.

As victims, our self esteem is destroyed and we learn to go inward with all of our emotions; our anger, our fears, and all of our emotional pain.

Because if we don't, again, we are considered weak and are victimized mor

That word, “victim” not only defined me, it chased me, it terrorized me, it abused me, and it threw me into the darkness of severe depression and mental illness. I fought it, I screamed, I kicked, I just wanted to die, but most of all I wanted to survive WITHOUT being a victim! But how? How does one stop being in the role of victim?

Love…maybe that is the answer! I will find someone who really does love me and will treat me with love and respect. I will find a man that will “adore” me and who I will adore. There is a problem with that. Soon you become the victim of gossip and wagging tongues. You are called a “whore”, a “bad” girl, a “hussy”, someone no right-minded good man would want.

For awhile alcohol seemed to do the trick. Alcohol “seemed” to keep me from being the victim. I didn't have to feel all the emotional pain of being victimized. There is a problem with that too. Soon, you become the victim of the alcohol.

I have learned, there is no shortage of victimizers. And, there are no shortage of victims. I have learned that victims are always human. Although many victimizers are humans, some victimizers are not always in “human” form. We can become victims of love, alcohol, drugs, money, greed, work, and you fill in the blank.

What there is a shortage of in this crazy and mixed up world is… kindness, love, and understanding. Until this world is filled with more people with these qualities, there will always be plenty of victims and victimizers.

This is our final day for the Zero to Hero Challenge. I have learned a lot from this challenge and am looking forward to future challenges to further my blogging skills. Thank you to all my readers and friends that have stuck with me through this challenge. I wish you all much success in all your future endeavors, as well as, in your blogging future.

 

The Pain Behind Suicide

This morning I read the blog post of http://joynpain2.wordpress.com “Chronic Pain and Suicide,” and realized that both chronic pain and emotional pain can be equally devastatingly painful.

This past October, my beautiful niece decided to end her life. I know the emotional pain she was experiencing at that time caused her to be desperate to “get away from the pain.” This is what caused her to make the decision which she did.

I know this because I have been there. I know that horrible crushing and all consuming pain that severe depression can cause. I know that desperate feeling that you simply cannot bear the pain anymore.

I know what helped me through my extremely painful times was the love and support of a caring family member, my brother. I thank God for him every day.

With my niece, Allison, I did not know all the emotional stress she was under until after her death. What I did know however, is that there was an influence in her life that was extremely stressful. I did tell several family members that if this influence didn't change, she would kill herself. They didn't believe me. She lived in another state and I heard no more about her after that. I truly regret not doing more. “If only….”

I hope we all will familarize ourselves with the signs of depression and how we can help people in this state. I hope we will all be loving and caring support to the depressed person in our lives; whether they are depressed from emotional or from physical pain. I hope we don't say, “Oh, he/she isn't in my family, so I won't get involved.” Please; if you see someone suffering, get involved. Let someone know and then later, follow up. Don't drop the ball like I did.

No matter what type of pain we are in, emotional pain or physical pain, we need the love and support of others. We don't need harsh judgement, we need love, acceptance, and understanding.

Would any of us of have chosen to be in so much pain? No, of course not. But I can assure you, what we do want and need is the love and understanding from others. We need for someone to reach out their hand and say, “I will help you through this. It IS going to be okay.”

Suicide is not somewhere far away. Suicide is right inside our own homes, our own neighborhoods, our own cities and the suicide rate keeps growing and the suicidal age keeps dropping.

We are all very much needed in more ways than we may know.

(Picture is borrowed from Pinterest).