So far, so good

5 days on the diet now.  I am doing pretty well, though I did eat 3 squares of dark chocolate tonight.  Hey, my period is due any day now, give me a break!  Nah, in all honesty I really am doing well.  Hubbie even offered to give me money to go buy some junk food and have a munch, but I turned him down.  When I did go up town with D3, all I bought was crisps for hubbie and D3 bought me some go-ahead chocolate thins.  Which btw, are dellish!  Had D here all week, since Sunday and it hasn't been so bad, though when that girl is on a diet she suddenly becomes the worlds expert on what to eat and what not to eat, about exercise and all the things I am doing wrong.  SIGH... she can get so tedious!  Still, the first week and all that.  I have been given some Oralstat from the doc to help things along but so far they don't seem to be doing much for me.  Though for D they are working over time!  It's been like lava!  Flowing out of her, it's a wonder she can sit down.  Me thinks they are reacting with her diabetes meds.  But we are both due our monthlies, and we both have a good clean out a few days before, so it could be that as well.  I suggested she should give it a week and see how it goes.  If no change then perhaps an appointment with the doc is in order.  As for me, well as they don't seem to be doing anything right now, I will also give them a week to kick in and see if anything happens.  I am so motivated right now, and I don't want to lose that.  So far, so good.

Mental Block gets a head start

Thursday 6th September

Oooom today is a hard one!    I have this need to binge, even though I know I am not hungry and I will only feel like crap after.

So I have banned myself from the kitchen.  I am upstairs in my bed and that is where I intend to stay.  I have had my tea, and also scoffed down a huge bag of microwave pop corn and all I keep thinking about is the taste of cream crackers, thick with butter and full of cheese!  Then it's the soft bread, again, thick with butter.  I want crisps and lucky we don't have anyone, only number 3 daughter has and they are in her room ready for her to begin collage next week to take with her.

 Instead I have a skinny cappacino  with a little squirty cream on top   , (a lot better than what could be!)  It's only day 3 for goodness sake!  How am I ever going to get to my target weight if I can't even manage a week?

 I know I have issues with it......   mental blockage that I have to over come, but that doesn't usually kick in until I have lost some weight, this time it's getting a head start!  Things happened to me as a child that I could not control and I thought if I got fat then it wouldn't happen (it still did) now, ever since then if I begin to lose weight it kicks in and kicks me in the teeth for good measure.  I mean, I'm 39 years old for goodness sake, isn't it about time it let up?  Isn't it about time I let it go?  I'm going to fight it, and keep going.  I am hoping there will this breaking point where I can push through, and then start to enjoy losing weight instead of always feeling like I am doing something wrong.    It's gotta be there somewhere, doesn't it?

New Beginning again?

Before shots

After Shots 

Wednesday 5th September

Well, my bedroom has been decorated and I really like it.  It is very simple with 2 end walls black with white picture rail and window sills and the 2 larger side walls white with black picture rail.  I also have 3 doors, 2 on one side wall, the room door, and another to a small cupboard and another on the opposite wall with the immersion tank and a small airing cupboard, all painted black.  It feels really nice and pleasant here now.  Before it was just the girls rooms, now it finally feels like a whole room again, and it finally feels like mine.  I have my alter all set up as well and it smells wonderful.  Perhaps that has aided my mood.  Because although I am on my monthlies I still feel ok.  Perhaps a little more irritable than usual, but still me.  I have started walking Dandy again, and I really want to keep it up this time.  I did some nice spell casting last Friday with the blue moon.  I also left my crystal's and my crystal bracelets to charge and I am wearing them now.  Perhaps it is just a plasiboe (sp?) effect, but I'm cool with that if it is.  I don't think that is entirely all of it, I think the crystals and the will power and strength spells I cast are really helping.  Though I am a little concerned that it could be said to be personal gain.  Which it kind of is, but it's also for my health, for my family, for the future.  Surely that can't be all bad then, can it?

Nothing to say

14th August

It is a strange day today.  Words won't come to me, and when they do they are all jumbled out.  Even simple words are hard to write (thank goodness for spell check!).  I am tired, but not sleepy tired.  At least the doc has stopped messing with my meds for now.  That is a small blessing.  The only time I feel alive, really here and me, is when I am at my alter.  Weather I am doing a spell, or not, just sitting there in my circle is a relieve to me.  I have been thinking of going back to my old ways.  Before Rob and I got remarried.  The only time I ever really felt alive was when I lived alone, just me and my girls, 14 years ago.  For a while I wondered why.  Now I don't think there was a reason, it wasn't my life, or me.... well, it was but it was so much more than that.  I was happy because I was me.  I awoke every morning and I did my salute to the sun yoga, and before bed every night, I cleaned house, had a bath, then took time to meditate.  Time to quiet my mind.  Aside from also being 5 stone lighter, and I wasn't mentally ill, or physically disabled.  Perhaps that is it.  I need to find a way to except that my life has changed.  I can no longer walk, I will always be on medication, and I now have a whole graveyard of skeletons living in my head as well as some unopened and locked crypts.  I need to find a way to deal, and I don't know how.   There is nothing inside right now.  everything is numb.  I am not even depressed any more, that is at least some kind of feelings.  Inside is like an old dusty attic, full of cobwebs and dust, old boxes and wardrobes, broken mirrors and photo frames.  There are some old ciny reels in there too, and they keep on playing, over and over, playing their scenes onto the walls.  Why can I not just look at what I have done, what I have achieved, instead of only playing the failures, constantly ashamed and hating myself.  Hating what I see in the mirror and what I don't.   It's a hard dark place to be when you are crushed by self hate and loathing. I thought if I began writing it might help the dam to burst, sometimes it does.  But I guess not tonight.  So what to do, what to say, where to go but in my mind?  How to escape it all?  How to escape me???

Long Nights

Wednesday 8th August

I don’t even know where to start.  My head is such a mess right now.  My feelings are all muddled inside and my mind just won’t shut down.  Why do I always have to remember?  I forgot once, so why do I have to remember now?  There are too many years of pain, mistakes and selfish paths taken always playing like a film in a cinema in my mind.  You can try to ignore it, but somehow it keeps seeping through into the present.   I wish I could just scream and scream, smash something up.  Maybe my face, it seems as good a place as any.  The meds are not working right now, or I am just too messed up for them to help.   I know my dose of Quetiapine should be 300 a day, but I am going to take 2 150’s tonight instead of just 1.  Maybe with double the usual dose my brain will have no choice but to shut down and I can sleep.  The wounds never show, and they never go away, like moving pictures in my head they keep playing.  I feel so ashamed all the time.  I look in the mirror and see a fat, ugly selfish bitch that doesn’t deserve to live.  My girls love me, I know this, but I don’t feel worthy of that love.  Rob says he loves me, but I can’t help but think he doesn’t.  What is there to love?  What is there that is worth anything but his disgust?  Sometimes I think it would be better if it was all over, just take the whole box and then sleep forever.  But I know even this thought is selfish.  It would leave my girls with scars, maybe even bigger than mine.  I see the past as clear as the present and then sometimes, I wonder.  How much of it is real?  Is it all in my mind?  Is the whole world in my mind and I am just rotting away in some room in a mental ward somewhere?  Never even having a life, or a family, just me and that room, from the day I was born until the day I finally die.  But then, that would be too easy wouldn’t it?  It just feels like all I am, all I ever knew was a lie.  None of it is real because I’m not real.  Oh I know all the clinical names for everything I feel, I know that this is dissociation, and the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and the feelings are from the Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder.  But knowing the names doesn’t make it any less.  It just means I know I am not entirely crazy.  Well, No, not exactly, I know I am crazy, I just have clinical names for it.   I know it will pass, with time.  It’s just like riding a wave.  Right now I am sinking, going under and drowning.  But soon I will rise out of the wave again and start surfing.  Hahaha, maybe not, but you get the meaning.  If I don’t feel like crying, then I feel angry.  I wish I could go back to feeling nothing again.  It’s so easy to pretend when there is nothing there.  Smile, laugh, hug, kiss, and let it all pass by.   But when you feel angry or depression, it’s not so easy to hide.  I wish it was.  But every day feels like a marathon, hiding what is really going on inside.  Still trying to laugh and smile when all you want to do is disappear.  Even crying is too much.  I feel like I need to cry, but I can’t do it.  I can’t cry, I can’t laugh, I fake smile but inside is like a stone.  It feels so heavy.  It’s been a long time since I have felt this bad.  Well, about 6 months and I consider that lucky.  6 months is a good run.  Now I am struggling to stay afloat at the bottom of a long well.  I can see the opening, but I can never reach it.  Well, there you go, 300 Quetipine taken.  All I need to do now is to wait for them to take effect, and then hope I fall into darkness.  No dreams would be nice, but I think that is too much to ask.  It really is so tempting to take a lot more.  Not so I can die, no, I don’t want to die, I just don’t want to feel anymore.  I don’t want to remember, I don’t want to feel so ashamed, such hatred for myself.  And I do hate myself so very much.   I rest my head back against the bed and I can see a spider web hanging from the ceiling.  It looks like it has been there a while, it’s dusty.  But it’s blowing from the heat of the radiator, or maybe it’s a draft from the window.  Who knows.  But I wish I could blow away my cob webs.  Take all the old baggage and stuff it back into old crates and suitcases and hide it all back at the end of the storage that is my memories.  It was there once before, but my mind just had to drag it all out, pull it out and rifle through it to see what they contained.  What nightmares and horrors and skeletons could be unearthed, and I unearthed a whole graveyard.  And nearly every day they is something new, a new grave found and dug up.  Like finding out that Dad was actually kicked out of the navy for being a paedophile because Lena was just 14, dishonourably discharged.   I don’t even know why it such a shock, not when it is so blatantly obvious. How in the hell didn’t anyone see it before?  A sailor and a 14 year old girl, come on for fucks sake!  What did I expect?  Why did I think he had left the navy?  I guess I didn’t.  I didn’t think about the why or how, I just took the knowledge given me and accepted it, like most of my life.  Like we were taught to do, never ask questions, never bring up the past and never question anyone.  What a bunch of fucking crap!  That is basically my whole life though isn’t it?  All I have been doing is walking through crap!  Crap up to my knees and I just smile and keep on walking.  I wish those tablets would start to work already.  I am tired, but I think that is just normal tired from feeling so shit all day and holding the tears that wouldn’t fall, and the anger that wouldn’t rage out.  It’s such hard work, and I am so tired.  My head is fuzzy, but it’s still turning, still moving, still thinking, still feeling too much.  What will it take to stop these feelings?  What will it take to shut it off?  I think I will try laying down now.  I may be able to sleep, I may just lay there with too many thoughts going on and on, watching the movie that is on tonight.  Who knows which era it will be this time, oh the suspense.  How come they are never happy ones?  Why is it always the bad ones all the time?  I bet the shrinks couldn’t answer that one.  What makes the bad ones stick when the good ones get buried beneath them?  My music is playing and I think I may leave it to play, perhaps then it might trigger a good memory for once, and that will be worth dreaming.  R called me beautiful the other day and I almost cried.  What a sap I am.  I don’t feel beautiful, I feel fat, ugly, and not worth the compliment.  For goodness sake, how long do those bloody pills take to work?  It’s nearly 11.30 and I am still awake.  Fuzzy, but still awake, still thinking, still feeling, still breathing, well that just about sucks big time.  How ironic, there are only a few songs left on my play list and the last one is Evanescence, Breath no more.  Perhaps I will just skip the last few and get to the encore.  If only everything was that easy.  Skip forward through the bad times and get to the good ones again.  I think I will just lay down my head now and hope darkness comes.  

Secrets Out

24th May

This is really getting to me now.  i am so angry I just want to tell them all just how wrong it was but I know none of them will ever see it that way, and if they do, they will never admit it.  I want to say to M, your number 4 is 14, how would you feel if a 27 year old got her pregnant and then took her to another country?  And C with her daughter, and ask J and Sh if they would ever have sex with a 14 year old?  But then I think I'm not sure if I could handle the stress.  Is it worth it?  Hell yes!  This family has no morals and none of them care or give a shit and I'm sick of it!  I am so sick of them!  Dirty, nasty bastards, all of them!!

25th May

Well, I did it.  I bit the bullet and I called C, J and SH over and I told them just like I said I would.  I asked them the question first then I told them what I had found out/  About him being discharged for being a peodo and why.  The only regret I have is telling Sh.  I know C and J would have told him. but then it wouldn't be on my head and I guess if they did it would all be twisted and turned until I look black.  I don't even know why it is effecting me so much.  I mean, he's been dead for 16 years.  I'm so stupid, maybe I am the one who is sick, for thinking so different to all of them, that they can know something like that, and not even care.  Instead they dress it up by saying he just fell in love with someone he shouldn't have, that was all.  It doesn't matter that she was 14 and he was 27, he just fell in love with a girl too young for him.  Really?!?!?!

Loneliness

30th April

It feels so lonely right now.  Who can I talk to?  Who is there to turn to?  I can't talk to J, C or Ro because they will never believe it, and if they did?  Do I ruin C and J perfect vision of him?  Do I want them to feel what I am feeling now?  I could never talk to my girls.  Number 3 knows there is something wrong and she keeps asking me what it is and telling me I can talk to her.  it's very sweet but I can't, not about this.  The girls have a candy man and rainbow image of their Granddad.  It makes up for the 2 Nan's on my side.  It makes them think my childhood had some good in it and I think that helps them cope with other stuff that they know I went through.  They don't need to know the facts, all they know is a sentence of what happened.  Who can I fucking talk to?  Who can I tell?  N one!  It's D secret to tell and she entrusted it to me and I really wish she hadn't.  how selfish does that make me?  I hate myself!  I hate, hate and I am soo angry and there is no one to blame.  P would never admit any of it not in a million years!  Ro is just like her sister, all she would think is how best to tell everyone so SHE will be the victim, the hard done by, the one who needs sympathy and pity!  Or how she can slag me off and D off to make it worse and make us look like trouble making liars!  It's so lonely and I feel so angry I want to rip up every photo I have of him, scribble over his face like a child, burn him and watch the flames!

Skeletons unearthed.

27th April

D is up again.  She told me something 2 days ago that has stuck in my head.  We were talking about my Dad being dishonourably discharged from the Navy for being a paedophile.  She was searching for his navy records so we can track his first 3 children, my siblings when she stumbled across it by accident.  It said his name and then dishonourably discharged... reason paedophile.  He was 27 when he met Lena and she was just 14.  Just thinking about it makes me feel sick.  But when D was in her early teens she came to visit her mother, P.  Dad kept asking her to go upstairs with him and 'play'.  She kept asking why, why did he want to go upstairs to 'play' and P told her to go with him, to go and 'play'.  She never had intercourse, just 'played'.  I don't even know what to feel about it.  It's funny but it doesn't surprise me.  But when I think how he used to be my hero.  Now I just feel conned, lied to and stupidly naive.  I feel sick to my stomach when I think of it.  It makes me wonder if he didn't get done by social services for getting Lena pregnant at such a young age, but then with her parents permission they had married while still in Malta, so she came here as his pregnant wife.  Was that the reason C and I were on the NSPCC list when we started school?  I don't know.  I told her that her Dad, my uncle had done the same to me.  It's like they had no morals, and for her own Mother to encourage it, that makes her just as bad, if not worse.  B, N, P and Ro, it's like they all had something missing, some vital moral part and all 4 of them had that piece of the puzzle missing.  We just got caught up in it all and now we have to try and live with it. He was my hero, the only one who stayed in my life when I was a child, even when he wasn't there, it didn't matter because he still loved me, that is what I told myself to survive.  He was so far up on a pedestal the sun blocked out the truth and all I saw was a lie.  All I feel now is disgust and hate.  i am so angry with him, with all of them.  How dare they use us the way they did, it's sick!  All of them are fucking sick and disgusting, peopdo's with not a single moral bone in any of them!  And I am glad 2 of them are dead, i just wish the other 2 would hurry up and die and I can be free of them all!  Dissociation sets in and all the anger and rage is festering inside and all I want to do is stand in a huge field and scream and scream until I die.

8th March

8th March

The girls are ok.  Number 3 has a new bf who makes her happy.  Number 1 and L not so good.  it's like a massive de jah veh for me.  It's like seeing R and me again.  he does what he wants, when he wants with who he wants, spends all the money and hers.  Because he spends all the money they haven't been food shopping since R and I went for her a month ago.  As a result she is not eating and keeps feeling ill and has lost weight, so thankfully, she hasn't had a period so they won't be bringing a baby into it.  Small blessings I guess.  Every time I see her she looks scruffy and dirty like she hasn't washed or washed her hair for days.  She has head lice again and goodness knows where she got them from and why she hasn't rid of them by now.  She looks worse now than she did when she lived at home.  But she doesn't want to be alone so she doesn't say anything to him.  But there is nothing I can do for her, just give her advice and hope she doesn't end up like me.
As for me, I have got bad PMS.  i just feel like crying all the time for no reason, or over stupid little things.  I had the results of my x ray and I have arthritis in both hips.  I'm on another diet and I'm already fed up with it and it's only been a week.  D came up and stayed a week and we did it then and it was good.  I felt good.  The she went home and since then I'm struggling already.  I really suck!

Back down again.

21st Feb 2012

Well, I am still not smoking and I am really proud of that, even if no one else is, or if they are they haven't said.  I am still struggling with the diet.  it is harder than I thought it would be to do both.  Sparkspeople is helping , I am back to basics this week again.  I am walking Dandy again after a break with a major pain in my left calf.  it felt like cramp and it just wouldn't let up.  I went to the doc and he took some blood to check if I had sticky blood, so I had to go to hospital for a scan on my leg.  no blood clot and all is finally well again.  So using the SP tracker, taking Dandy walks and restart the wii active 30 day challenge.  I still haven't completed that despite having it years.  just too damn lazy!  Then I wonder why I don't lose weight when I can't even stick to it for 30 days.

A New Year

Monday 16th January 2012

  It's been ages!  So much has happened and I haven't even marked any of it.  Where to start?  September.  Daughter number 2 went to Newquay, to Cornwall Collage for her degree in animal conservation.  It's a 2 year course.  She got the flat with G and J and they haven't been friends since.  it's been bitching and hating from all parties.  She also went back with T and they are trying the long distance realtionship thing.  I really miss her, so does daughter 3.  It's been quiet here now.  Number 2 left on Saturday 11th and daughter 1 got offered a place on the 12th and moved in on the 16th.  Gosh that started on 24th August.  She had a huge argument with R over the washing up of all things.  He said she had to leave, this was Sunday and Monday he told her to get out, we argued, number 3 daughter argued, all the usual shit that goes on.  Anyway, I wrote her a 4 week notice to take to the housing office and then R was like, nah, let's give her another chance, she can stay and I said, sure until the next time you give her one night to get out.  So i made her take it to the council office.  So they offered her a bedsit in a hostel and she has excepted.  It's just one room with a seperate bathroom, and a kitchen sink, fridge and a little counter top cooker.  The first week she was there all her old mated from Cinderford asked her out for a drink.  Within a week she had a bf.  Except D was a cheating bastard.  Number 1 then met L, the guy in the flat above her room.  They soon became friends and D got jealous of it but then daughter number 1 found out he was cheating and broke up with him.  After a month she and L started going out.  He was her first.  She had finally found someone worth it and someone she loved enough to do it with.  Now she lives with him in his flat, but has kept her room open in case anything should happen.  Last week she took a pregnancy test.  It was negative, but it's a testament to hpow serious this has got in short time.  number 2 is in collage and doing well.  The girls came home for Christmas. Number 3 had a bf and he chose boxing day to break up with her, except he never told her himself, he put it on fb before he even told her, so it's safe to say it wasn't a friendly break up.  I am on a new year, a new me thing again.  I gave up smoking, 2 weeks now.  Also dieting and started the Wii active 30 day challenge.  I'm walking dandy twice a day.  So far lost 4lb.  But I'm not stupid, it's nothing to brag about until I lose the first stone, and make the first month of non smoking.  As for me.  I feel useless, unwanted and un needed.  R still goes to the gym.  He joined up last Sept and goes most days.  If he could just get his eating under control he might lose weight.  Of course the fact that he joined the gym shocked me, but it was one hell of a shck when he started going and he was doing so well.  he lost 2 stone and you could see where the gym was doing it's job.  but then he got bored and it all fell apart.  He might make it twice a week and his prtion size is stupid.  Having a bowl of anything for him it's a family size serving bowl.  So that's it I guess.  I am haivng a shitty day, caught you all up, now I'm outta here.

The final

Thursday 28th July 2011

  Yesterday was my final therapist session.  It is a scary place to be.  it's like the end, it feels like the end of a huge chapter in my life.  It has been such a long journey and there were times when I felt I wouldn't make it through.  There were even times when the darkness was so black and full, so complete that I would nevr see the light again.  but then there were times when the sun shone warm and the sky was blue and nothing could ever bring me down again.  Now it feels empty.  Devey warned me about this, she said lots of people who see a therapist for as long as I have, over a year, sometimes feel a bit low after, esceppially when the journet has been so long and hard as mine is.  Give it a month, she said, and you will begin to climb back up again, to bring life to an even keel.  I'm not so sure about that, but I do know this feeling is only temperary and it will pass.  She wrote this wonderful letter to summarize all we have done in therepy this past year.   About how she admires my courage to fight on and change my life, my girls lives and my marriage from the way things had gone in the past and to always try to move forward.  She said a lot of other stuff that I'm sure she feels is true, but I just feel unworthy of.  I feel like, well really, is that really true?  Me?!  Nah!  Bullshit!  But then I also know I only feel that way because most I have felt so unworthy my whole life.  So maybe, some of it may be true?  Who knows/  I will wait for the letter to come and read it myself, analize it, and see which bits are real and which are just words.  She is going to put it in my medical files, and send a copy to my GP, a copy to me and I asked for a copy to be sent to R.  Just so he can read it and try to understand what this journey has been for me and why I am who I am.  I'm not so sure how he will react, if he will even understand it.  I can cope with that, but if he just reads it and then puts it down and carry on playing his computer as if it is unimportant and he doesn't care, or if he doesn't even bother reading it, that will hurt more than anything.

Monday 7th August

  Well I got the letter and it wasn't as bad as I first thought.  I was right about R though, he never read it. Still what did I really expect?  Had T's bd party yesterday.  We spent the day with his parents and W.  They pulled him down all day and R said nothing.  If I said anything I got told to pack it in and when I put something on fb he moaned at me.  I spent all yesterday feeling sorry for him because his whole family are pricks to him and now all I wanna say is fuck you and your family!  Now I'm the one left feeling like shit and stupid for caring.  Why do I even bother?  Devey was right, I do set myself up to fail.  They put him down, they hate me and all night they made daughter number 2 feel so shit, we both got pissed just to get away from it all.  Some things never change, even with the next generation.

A cracked old glass

Monday 4th July 2011

  Well work is going well, I like it, but it tire me out.  I just feel so broken right now and it feels like everything is coming apart at the seams.  I want to move house but I don't.  A new home, a new area, new neighbours, none of it is going to change how I feel, or the house, or the garden.  12 years here and the garden is still a shit hole pile, so what's the point?  Ro keeps ringing me, 3 times tonight!  Don't she get it? I don't want to talk to her!  FFS. she just text me now as well, WTF???  Why can't she just piss off?  C's got social services on her back over the kids again, and this time I ain't going to do a thing!  Why should I keep raising her family?  They know Sh is there, and she knows they told her over and over not to have  hm living there, but she don't listen.  They knew she leaves them their Dad even though she isn't meant to.  WTF??  Is it so fucking hard to do what they want if it means keeping the kids?  She's just like W and M were when they lost their kids into care.  I just give up helping her!  I'm just so sick of everything and everyone in both families.  I'm bitching at R and the girls again, even snapping at the dog and he don't understand!  Sometimes I just wish I could take drugs, or drink myself into a stupor just to make it all go away.  But what is the point?  It will still be there the next day and the next, and the next, stretching into an endless future of darkness, of being that old glass again.  The one that is fresh and new and beautiful and bright, but it gets broken.  So you glue it and hope no on notices.  You push it a little way to the back of the shelf and turn the cracks around so no one see's it.  The years pass and it gets broken again and again, and it's so far at the back of the shelf no one even notices it any more.  Dust collects on it, around it and in the cracks.  Dusty and dirty and covered in cracks it finally gets thrown away by someone who doesn't even know what it once was.  It's so broken and dirty it can never be whole again.  I guess it's just one of those days.  Tomorrow is another day and all that crap.  That sounds like hope and right now I have none.  Just an endless dark void, sunk in the bottom of an old well.  I can't climb out, the walls are too slippery, the bricks falling apart and there is nothing and no one to hold onto, and I sink lower and lower until I can't fight any more, it's too hard, too much.  It's easier to let go, let go and drown in the dark dirty water, until it's all gone.  no more fighting, no more pain, no more anger, just no more.

Moving on

Thursday 16th June 2011

  I think using and smelling my witches herbs last night actually had an effect.  I went to bed with the question on my mind and I had, what I think was a prophetic dream.  It was about me and R.  We were together and I don't remember most of the dream, but what I do remember was R telling me he loved me and I was his future, and I cried with happiness.  Was this just a trick of the mind?  Did those herbs have an effect?  I don't know.  When I ask R about the future he says he doesn't know, he just lives day to day and then he says, "But that's not good enough for you, is it?"  I don't know how to answer because he is right, it isn't good enough.  I need constant reassurance that I'm worth loving, that I am needed and wanted.  I'm just not sure he can give me that.  On a brighter note I put my name down to volunteer in a charity shop, Dial-A-Ride.  I start 9.30 Monday.  Just doing a few hours for now, I don't want to rush into work again and then find I can't cope, even if I want to, I have to be smart and kind to myself.  It's scary though, it's been a long time since I worked.

Rollercoaster Rides.

Wednesday 15th June

    Well I am finally going through some changed in my life.  It feels like a transition phase.  It began with me having my hair cut at the hairdressers.  I have never been to a hairdressers, not ever.  Then I decided I wanted to lose weight.  Not a play time, crash course, lose a stone in an impossible time thing.  So I joined a web site, Sparkspeople, a slimming site.  there are lots of other people on there all doing the saem thing.  it has a nutrition tracker, fitness tracker, weight and measurement tracker plus loads of information, hints, tips, recipes, everything and the best thing is, it's all free.  Then we had Dandy.  Dandy is a male Jack Russell Terrier, 5 years old.  I know, me a dog right?  Although today is a bad day, so you might get a few negative vibes, it's not a reflection as to how I have been feeling the past 2 weeks.  i take Dandy for a 2 mile walk everyday and as a result I get alone time, time to think and I've also lost 7lb so far.  I have a long way to go but at 2lb a week, by this time next year I should have reached my target weight.  I know it seems a long time, but if I do it right this time, slowly and steady.  I should finally make it to 8 stone.  I feel good about myself in a way I have never felt before.  Even when I was alone in Cinderford I had never truly made a change to my life, or myself.  I am going back to Witchcraft and Wicca, and this time it will not be half hearted, playing.  This time it is about me, finding who I am really.  The girls are growing and moving on and it's time for me to do the same.  I will always be their Mother, but they don't need me to 'care' for them any more.  I will always be there for them as their Mum, but my Mummy role is over.  It's time to look to the future and decide what I want to do with the rest of my life.  I don't know yet if it includes R.  I guess that will depend on him.  I don't want to be living on benefits forever, I don't want to use my disability as an excuse to be lazy.  Yes I have medical conditions that can never be cured, I have Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia, and that will only get worse.  I have Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder, Dissociation Disorder, and that will never go way, and I am always have PTSD, but I am also a 38 year old woman with only half my life passed by.  I have the other half of my life to look forward to.  I want to go back to work, to gain some self respect back.  I don't know what the future holds but I do know it doesn't include R getting up and going on his computer until he goes to bed.  I want a nice looking home and garden.  I want a job.  I want an alter to The Goddess in my bedroom.  I see myself coming home after work and sitting in the garden, smelling the flowers, watching the pond, fountain and waterfall, just like it used to be.  i see my husband and I going for walks together, maybe with the dog and relaxing together after work.  i see hand holding, cuddles and togetherness.  I just don't know if any of this is R.  I asked him how he saw his future and if I was in it, his reply "I don't know".  I can't plan a future if he feels he has none, or worse, this, here and now is the rest of his life, this is forever.  Maybe I am selfish, but after the life I have had I don't care, I will be selfish, I want more.  I want more for us.  We have to decide if we have a life together without the children.  I don't know if we can, I don't know if he can.  Transition is always hard, but always necessary for life to go on, for the girls to have their own lives, after all, isn't that why we raise them?  To be strong, and independent women?  Isn't that what being a parent is all about?  And once your job is done, what then?  That is what I am trying to discover.

On the edge

Tuesday 17th May 2011

  I don't know why, but I feel as if I am standing on the edge of that well again and about to fall in.  If it isn't that then I am so angry at everything and everyone for no reason at all.  I don't even have words to describe how I am feeling.  The diet has been abandoned and I am eating everything and anything and then feeling guilty about it after.  Last week I was on such a high, everything was bright and cheery and the whole world was worth living for.  Today it's like nothing matters, and it doesn't matter what you say or do, it isn't going to make a difference anyway, so why bother?

Something to read again and again and again.....

Tuesday 3rd May 2011

I guess what I am trying to say is, I have to learn to forgive myself, for all my past mistakes.  Instead of only seeing the bad, instead of focusing on that, maybe I should also try to remember the good I have done.  I felt so much guilty for daughter number 1. the way she is, the self loathing she has of herself and life.  Because of the way we raised her, the constant moving around and changes in her life.  The things she saw, the things we did, the school bullies that I couldn't protect her from.  But I also raised her with love, respect and dignity.  We raised all our girls to be strong, to know some men are not all they seem, but that love is possible.  They believe in love in a way I never could or ever will, because they were loved in a way I never was.  I have 3 beautiful, intelligent, strong, independent, caring and loving daughters, and I did that.  We raised them to be who and what they are, what they want to be.  But the negative side of number 1 is who she is, a part of her, it's not something I made.  Her childhood leaves a lot to be desired, but she is 21 now and has her own free will to be who she wants to be.  I had this all worked out in my mind, but on paper it just sounds like a lot of useless excuses.  I feel guilty for not protecting so many people, but who was there to protect me?  Who was there to hold that little girl?  The one I cry for.  I no longer feel hate for her, i don't hate her for being weak, i love her for being strong.  My life may be a long road of mistakes and wrong turns but do I need to feel guilt and regret for the rest of my life?  No, I don't.  I have to look at them and yes, that was a mistake, but it was also a lesson.  I did that wrong, I know that, I admit it, I own it, but now it's time to let it go, put the past to rest and move on.  Take that little girl in my arms and hug her, and then put her to bed.  I am not her any more, I am not a teenager who craved love and found pain, I am not the young woman who learnt to hate life for all it had done, who hated men and thought sex was what all men wanted and needed, and was all I had to give because I wasn't wroth loving.  I am not the woman who grew up to disconnect from a world that was nothing but pain, lies and hate, regret and guilt.  Because I am all of them, I am every one of them, and I am none of them.  Can I finally learn to let go?  Can I finally like myself for some of the good I have done instead of hating myself for all the bad?  I don't know, but I want to try.  I want to continue walking down that highway.  But I want to turn around and look forward, walking forward instead of walking backwards while looking behind.  I am tired of the hate, the regret, the guilt, so very tired.  It's time to stand up tall, hold my head high and say I am ME.  I am not that little girl sleeping softly in her bed, I am not Lisa, listening quietly in her cave, free to leave and no longer a prisoner, I am just me.  And it's time to find out who I am.  I know there will still be hard days.  I know there will still be days when I will feel worthless and hate myself.  But as long as I can learn to acknowledge it, to know the pain is real, and it has a reason and I have a right to that pain for all I have been through, and then let myself cry if I need to without self hate, without listening to those voices and her "wipe your face before your father see's it!"  then maybe I stand a chance.  Oh I'm under no illusions that the voices will end or that the self hate and the pain will suddenly disappear.  I know it will be a hard struggle, maybe even a long one, but if I can read back over this and feel the way I do now, then maybe, just maybe I can put all the pieces back together again and have a shiny new me.  That is my spell for today and for the future.  Because U deserve to be happy, I deserve to be loved and I deserve to be me.  No more hiding behind Lisa, or that little girl, or that cynical woman, no more hiding from life.  I deserve to live.

The worse abuse they did.

Monday 2nd May

A lot has happened since last I wrote.  I have met with a new doctor after I changed my surgery.  I went to Brunston and asked for a medication review since my anti-depressants obviously aren't doing their job.  They basically said they would not change my medication while I was seeing a psychiatrist.  No matter how many times I told them I was seeing a psychological therapist and she can not do my medication they just would not listen to me.  I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid, so I changed surgeries met Dr L.  Even though he was a man, he listened, I mean really listened.  I was able to tell him everything I was feeling.  About feeling suicidal one minute and in a rage the next, and being disconnected from the world.  He sent me to see an actual psychiatrist, a doctor P.  Again a man, but he too listened to my story, in a basic form only, while he drew a family tree so he could try to make sense of it all.   His reply to all of this "What is wrong with these people?!"  I've asked myself that question all my life and never got an answer.  He thinks I may have Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder, and also Post traumatic stress disorder from all the years of abuse.  He gave me some new meds in addition to the fluxotine, called Quetiapin.  I am feeling a lot better.  I still feel down now and then but not so suicidal, I still feel angry just not in a red rage.  Who knows, maybe after all these years I may finally begin to feel like me again, whatever that feels like.

I have also been doing a lot of serious thinking these last couple of days, hence the writing.  I think maybe it was me all along.  I was the one making myself ill.  I was living in the past, letting it control me.  The past was making me who I was because instead of letting it define me, I was letting it rule me.  I can't see who I should be if I hold on to what could have been.  I have to let go.  I have to let it go, it's almost as if it's been a part of my life for so long, I don't know how to be anyone else.  I raised my daughters never to be anyone's victim, while remaining a victim myself.  I have been carrying around such a burden of guilt and regret it's been crushing me.  And not just my childhood, but my whole past.  Raising the girls through turmoil, hate, lies and I stayed with R through it all, his anger, his rage towards me and towards the girls when they were so young.  And yes, I stopped it, I made him see and understand what he was doing wrong, and how to fix it.  The way we were raised by our parents was so very wrong.  I helped him become the man he is today because I wouldn't give up on him, because I could see who he could be.  There are some places I could not change, he will always be lazy, he will always be cruel with his words when he doesn't realize, or understand how or why  his words hurt.  But he is different to who he was then.  I am different to who I was then.  I was an abused child who thought pain and suffering are a part of life, and they are, but that is not all there is.  I carried around guilt for not protecting them when they were babies, from him, his family, my family.  I felt guilt for not protecting J and C and Dad from P, from Ro and from D and S.  But I had forgotten several important things.  Free will.  Yes I made mistakes, but so did everyone else and they did it all of their own free will.  Dad married P, he stayed with her even though he knew she would never change, Ro stayed with D, even after he broke her jaw. even after he broke her daughter's nose, even after he left me bruised and battered on the bed from  his beatings, and she did it all of her own free will.  I look back now and I think the worst thing they all did to me, was to make me believe it was all my own fault, every last bit of it. even my Mother being a slut.  But they did it in such a way I didn't even know I was doing it, and carried on doing it all my life.  I remember the pain, and I feel terrible self loathing and the voices tell me I am to blame, it is all my fault, me, the stupid, fat, ugly, selfish, spiteful, weak, pitiful me.  For so long I heard those voices in my head, but there is a new one now.  I don't know how or why my thought pattern changed, or why there is a new voice and it's strong.  Not strong like Lisa was out of hate, anger and pain and cruelty.  But out of something different.  And I see things a different way, a new way.  I see things now that I was so blind to see before.  I am so tired right now.  It is still a daily struggle and I have so much more to say, but my eyes are closing and the rest of me is following, even if my brain refuses to close down, no matter how tired my body gets, it still goes on and..... (a line is drawn across the page)

Milestones unseen

Wednesday 16th Feb 2011

It was a strange session today.  It has been a strange week, feeling so angry all the time and not knowing why.  Tomorrow I will be 38.  With R's 21st coming up too, it reminds me of all the
milestones in my life that have gone un-noticed, uncared about.  Starting my period, my 13th, 16th, 18th, 21st, so many gone by, even passing my exams.  Yet it never bothered me before, or I just didn't want to think about it.  I started to wonder where all this came from and think maybe it really all began when I turned 30.  30 was meant to be the year for me, bu some silly dreams made when I was just a child.  Dreams of travelling the world, riding a motorbike clad in leather and tattoo's.  It's so silly really.  I also think it's from thinking of that little girl I was, with feelings and sympathy and even love for her.  I feel sorry for her, when for so long I hated her, blamed her for everything, too weak, pathetic, stupid little slut.  But those feelings are changing and P's words don't always ring true for that little girl any more.  Just remembering so much, and so little at the same time.  It's hard to explain to anyone when I don't understand it myself.  My head feels ready to explode from it all and I wish I could just tear it all out, let it go, but it won't let me go.

I went through a time of writing poetry to vent all my feelings out.  Here is just one of those that I wrote.  You can read more, if you wish from here: http://mybookpoemsfromthedarkside.blogspot.co.uk/?zx=7db8bc077724626c

Poems such as Who am I?  They say...  Colour me Black and Tomorrow's Hope

Get Out of My Head

Lying on the kitchen floor, the plastic rug below,

How did I get down here?  I don't even know.

I feel him there against my skin, he's trying to get in,

What happened after that?  How do I begin?

I just don't know why, the how, if or why,

He did those things to me, so I can't even cry.

The memories I have are raw, yet they are so unclear,

I wish that I could tear them out, that would be my cure.

The memories are there still, yet so much is gone,

But do I need to know the truth even after so long?

How can I tell you of the pain you caused that day?

The pain of unknown memories never goes away.

Being five should be about the candy and the smiles,

Being able to laugh and shout and run for miles and miles.

But being five means pain to me and hatred deep inside,

For the pain you made me see and the dreamy tears I cried.

I hate you YOU bastard!  Of that you can be sure!

But I hate you so much more for the things you did to her.

Why do I feel guilty when it was you who caused her pain?

Why do I feel guilty?  I was too afraid to complain.

Stay away from me and mine!  Family you may have been,

But you crossed the line leaving me unclean.

But you were not the only one to blame for all the pain,

For even after they all knew nothing ever changed.

They didn't know it was me too I hid my secret well,

But it was there for all to see if they cared enough to tell.

I still had to see you, I couldn't say a word,

For you were her oldest son, my tears were never heard.

I didn't want to dream, but still I had to hope,

No wonder I forgot it all, how else could I cope?

I wish it was so easy to just say you are dead,

But it isn't so fucking easy to get you out of my head!

Way to screw up your kids!

Sunday 30th January

I spoke to the girls today, yeah way to go Mum you fucking idiot!  I told them I hadn't been well and I needed them to know that if I ever did anything, it wouldn't be anything they have done, it's just me.  Now I don't think it was such a good idea, way to go, guess what girl's, your Mum's a fucking pysco who wants to kill herself!  What an idiot!  I don't even know why I did it, maybe K is right, maybe I really am an attention seeking bitch, but from my own kids, I mean come on! WTF?!?!?!  They asked me how I was going to do it and I said tablets and daughter number 2 was relieved I wasn't going to hang myself like her friends Dad tried to do outside his son's bedroom door so the first thing he would have seen when he opened his bedroom door was his Dad hanging, bit fucked up, way to think things through mate!  And daughter number 3 was relieved I wasn't going to cut my wrists and they would find me in a pool of blood.  I can't say that thought had never occurred to me, slitting my wrists was right up there with the tablets, but truth is, I'm a fucking wimp, I wouldn't have the guts to do it.  Rob piped in and said "If you were going to do it, I wouldn't stop you" to which I replied "I never wanted you to stop me, but I wanted you to do something if I did, like call an ambulance!" and to that he had no answer.  It makes me think if I ever did do something like that, he wouldn't call an ambulance until it was too late and I was really dead.  I still feel depressed, but I don't wish I was dead any more.  There is just so much hate and anger inside me, all aimed at me, I was just starting to get to a place inside where I could think of that little girl I used to be and feel sorry for her.  Now all I feel is hate and contempt again.  There's a part of me that says none of it was her fault, it was all them, all those men, S, N, JE, H, ST, it was them that had the problem, them that were perverted.  And then there is another part that says what did you do?  The clothes I wore, the way I walked and talked, the way I had to grow up when I should have been a child, all that and those stupid big brown eyes in that young face, of course they saw me as more than a child!  And all those beatings from P and Derek, i deserved them all too.  The way I looked, the way I provoked them trying to be hard, piss em off, give em the look.  I may as well have stuck a big sign saying beat me!  Touch me here!  Rape me!  FFS!!!!  Not to mention whatever happened with sue and Chris that fucked me up so much I can't remember anything about those 6 months, or that year that I lived with them!  Maybe they should just lock me up, throw away the key and leave me to rot!  It's not like I'd die of hunger with about a years supply of fat on me to keep me going!  Thirst maybe, but not hunger.  It's just all so fucked up, or maybe the world is just fine and it's really me that's fucked up.  maybe I'm already locked up somewhere, tied to a bed and pumped full of drugs and all this, all this around me, this life, this world, this me, it's all just an illusions.  Some crazy girls deranged dream and not real at all.  Maybe even if I did take tablets or cut my wrists it wouldn't matter anyway.  I wonder if I would actually die, or just wake up in the real world?  In a a hospital bed somewhere tied to a bed?  Who knows, maybe it is all real and I really am fucking crazy!  Maybe THE FAMILY finally did it, they finally drove me mad.  I could be one of those crazy relatives they used to keep locked up in the attic, away from people in case they infected them?  Maybe I even did infect daughter number 1?  Maybe that is why she is the way she is?  The  anorexia  and depression.  They say madness is hereditary.  Maybe I got mine from Aunty P, haha, how funny does that sound?  Aunty P! Hahahahahahahahaha, just plain fucking crazy!  Like me!  Fucking crazy, mental, a fucked up slut, a perverted fucking psychopathic!  Fucking stab me!!

In the Dark.

Wednesday 26th January 2011

Well, there is finally some light at the of the tunnel.  I have been in darkness a week now and it has never before felt this bad.  D told me her Dad, is my Dad.  My uncle is my Dad.  Like it wasn't bad enough before having my Aunty (My mother's sister) as my step-mum, it seems my Uncle (My Dad's brother) is also my Dad.  The uncle who died of cancer, the one I never saw when he was dying.  The Uncle who had his fingers inside me when I was a kid asking if I had come yet when I didn't even know what it meant.  Making Steven my brother!  That prick who may have raped me when I was a young child on the kitchen floor in the dark, when we lived at Sapperton Road.  That dick who fathered S to C!  I mean isn't our family fucked up enough?!  Why did she have to tell me?  Why did I make her tell me??  Just because I was so up myself I thought I knew everything!  I thought I knew what she was going to tell me, that Derek was my Dad.  The step Dad who beat the shit into me when we lived with Rose (My Mother).  Nothing could have prepared me for THAT!  It makes D, M, Ma, Ni, No my siblings.  C becomes only my half sister and J doesn't even become that!  He is just my cousin.  He is downstairs now with Rob and he sounds so much like Dad it hurts.  I wish I could hate Rose for this, but I feel numb towards her, as if nothing she does or say could ever hurt me when she has already done so much damage to me.  I had a meeting with Devy or however you spell it, on Monday this week.  She was worried about me, Lisa was there and they met for the first time, or so I am told.  I wish I could be her all the time.  She makes me feel strong and safe, like nothing could ever hurt me.  Devy has been phoning me every day, telling me to phone the crisis team if I need to.  But what do I say?  I'm thinking of killing myself?!  I'm sitting here and I want to die?!  I can't!  It would be like admitting I have a problem and I need help, I can't do that.  It's one thing to see a therapist every week for 50 minutes, but to phone some complete stranger on the end of a phone and say "hey dude, I need your help!"  I just can't bring myself to do it.  But I don't want to die either!  I don't want to kill myself, but there is this darkness inside, evil darkness saying do it, do it, take the damn pills, take them all.  I feel worthless, like if I did phone them, it wouldn't matter any way, they would cart me off to glos royal, stick me in a bed on a loony ward and then laugh at me from another room while the doctors and nurses treat me with contempt because they are there to save lives, and I'm just there so I don't end mine!  It's not like I deserve it!  I don't deserve a bed that should be used for a sick person who  really need it.  I kinda know how J felt now when he was in hospital and kept saying that to me.  except he actually was ill,he had inflamed liver and gall stones.  Me, I'm just stupid.  And like K said on fb when I put something on my status, well actually what I put was a joke but partly true about the way I felt.  It said, "If I was to put on my status that I was suicidal and standing on the edge of a cliff, I wonder how many of my friends would poke me"  and she called me an attention seeker.  Ja said he wouldn't poke me cuz it would take all his fb friends.  Yea thanks for that, way to kick a girl when she's down!  Tell her she's fat!  Sh did say he wouldn't poke me, he would rope me, I laughed and said I could use a rope right now and he said his rope wouldn't be any good to me because they are noose proof.  It's funny.  The only one to bother replying was the guy who came round with S when we was kids.  The guy who actually fell in love with me and P and S chased him off for it, called him a pervert cuz I was only about 11, yet S who did THAT to me in that very house!  It was P that punched , kicked, pulled my hair, slapped and hit with clogs, sticks, crutches, walking sticks, and a fucking swish curtain rail until it snapped and blood poured down my legs for wetting the bed!  Yet because one guy ever showed me any emotion but hate, lust and anger was a pervert.  All my so called friends and family on fb and he was the only one to care.  Oh him and my thread friends.  They say they would pray for me, but seriously, what good are prayers?  What good are prayers to a God that doesn't exist?  And that was hard to write.  mothers words in my head again, going on about not taking the Lord's name in vain, about never lying, it's in the 10 commandments and tell the truth and shame the devil.  Her!?  who never even went to church, never read a bible, HER who married her sister's man, and her brother-in-law, brother to her husband!  I mean WTF?!?!?!  And they say I'm fucking crazy?!  They never should have let her out of the loony bin when they put her in there when she was a kid and stabbed her Mother in the arm.  Mind you there are a lot of times I have wanted to stab mine!  Fucking both of them!  When she was beating on C cuz that prick got her pregnant, fuck me she was lucky M was there cuz I still believe I actually would have stabbed her when she held that knife to me, or she would have stabbed me, either way she was lucky her daughter was there to save her fat, ugly, greasy, ass!

New exercise, really?! (WARNING EXPLICIT LANGUAGE)

Well, went in to therepy Wednesday and Devy said to stop the breathing exercises, they weren't helping and do I now have to brush my teeth and think about what I am doing, nothing else, just what I am doing...... easy?  Try is sometime. Hmmm, well the last breathing exercise was so successful (hear the sarcasm*) she has given me a new one.  Then write about it.  Though it seems really daft.

Thursday 9th September 2010 8.15PM

Brushed teeth, feel a bit stupid writing about brushing my teeth, but whatever, here goes..  I have a blue and yellow toothbrush, it doesn't have a tongue and cheek cleaner.  I like the ones with the cleaner but Rob ordered from tesco on line, a bogof offer, so all good.  Toothpaste was very minty, I'm rather proud of my teeth, 37 and never had a filling, or teeth removed, except when I was younger and had too many teeth in my mouth and they removed 2 from each side at the back, so 4.  Then when I got older had 4 more removed cuz I was going to have braises fitted, but that was when Rose was goignt through her Mothering role, then she got bored before they could fit them and I went back to Dad's and he hated dentists, never even brought us a tooth brush, I used to scrape my teeth with my finger nails to clean them.  Gross, I know!  Any-ways, the toothpaste was very minty, hot minty but not too hot.  Brush teeth going past each tooth one by one, then spit.  Make sure to turn off the tap, wasting water like that sucks and if more people turned off the tap while brushing their teeth, well, I bet we wouldn't be having hose pipe bans.  After teeth brush cheeks (inside of course cuz would be stupid to brush outside, though I do wonder, what it would feel like?) and then brush tongue, spit, rinse, wash out brush.


 Lisa showed up at therepy this week, though I was able to rein her in and keep her under control, even if I kept losing my focus doing it.  She really wants to be heard and Devy says I will have to listen to her at some spoint, but I am not ready to do that yet, so let's hope she behaves until then.  And she had me read out all that I had written, which I did but I refused to read out Lisa's, despite her asking several times.  It was embarrassing enough for me to read it, and to know that some primeval part of me had written it.  She read it herself and said there is a lot of anger there, as if I didn't know that!  I know.  that is what scares me, because Lisa is a part of me, as she says she is, then just how much hate and anger do I carry around with me all the time?  And what happens if that rage ever lets go and I can't control it any more?  That fucking terrifies me!

Friday 10th September 2010 10.10PM

My toothbrush is actually blue and green, not blue and yellow.  Poured tooth paste onto the brush.  Had to squeeze the tube hard though, it's really annoying when people don't put the lid on the tube and it goes hard.  It fell off the brush, which confused me for a brief second kinda like "huh?  I could have sworn I just put toothpaste on that", then I saw it in the sink and was like "Oh there it is, look at that hahahaha"  So I poured some more on.  Was thinking about how my left foot has been hurting the last couple of days.  I don't remember hurting it, but it feels bruised.  Reminds me of last week, or week before, not sure which, when my left thumb was really painful and bruised badly, but I have no idea how or when I did it, but it was painful enough to feel like it did when I broke it a few summers back.  OK, more like 8 or so.  Still brushing teeth and then thinking that it is actually harder than you would think to only think about brushing your teeth.  Which got me thinking of other things we do on autopilot, like brushing our hair, but then I started thinking if we lived way back I would have to brush my hair 100 times before bed, so no more auto pilot, but then they never brushed their teeth, or washed their hair.  I have finished brushing my teeth without realising it, so i do my tongue and notice how under my tongue is really ugly.  The I rinse and finish.

Sunday 10th Spetember 8.15PM

Took tooth brush, poured on the toothpaste.  I can smell the mint.  Wet it under the tap before putting it in my mouth.  I start to brush my teeth, up and down, back and forth, round and round, and I have a chant going in my head, 'tooth, tooth, tooth ' each time I brush one tooth at a time.  I start on the bottom left, then top left, bottom right, top right then front.  Brush my inside cheek, then my tongue.  I can taste the mint, it's strong.  I spit then rinse and run my tongue over my teeth, enjoying the smooth clean surface.  Then I clean the brush and put it away.

Monday 11th September 2010 8.45PM

Put the toothpaste on the brush, spilt it on my black top, good thing it's evening and not morning.  My head hurts.  Trying to think of what I am doing but my mind keeps fluttering.  Thinking I've been chewing gum all day, that's prob why I got head ache.  Funny, that's usually Lisa's thing not mine.  Wonder why she does that?  Maybe cuz she doesn't smoke much.  I look in the mirror and stare at my reflection  thinking how bad I look, how ugly.  I need to calm down but the voices are giving me head ache, they won't shut up.  I understand them but I keep seeing Pat's face in my head, even though I can't hear her voice.  I keep scrubbing teeth, then rinse and finish.  I just realised, I never brushed my cheek, or my tongue.  But then who gives a fuck anyway?  I should go back and do it, but I don't want to.  (Writing becomes messy and the pen is pressed so hard on the paper it is torn in places and the whole passage is covered in scribble)  I feel so angry and don't know why.  Rob hasn't been here since Sunday and the girls are quiet, all is good, so why this anger, this hate I feel?  I wanna hurt myself.  I remember what Devy said rubber band on the wrist and do it, but before I can flick it to stay awake I remember that was for something else, for fading.  I am fading, do it again.  Do it again.  Good pain.  Teeth, meant to be talking about teeth.  Fuck teeth!  Fuck this shit!  fuck it all!  And fuck you too!  BITCH! CUNT! FUCK YOU! Teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth!  Teeth!  Teeth!  Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK YOU!!!!

Tuesday 12th Spetember 9.00PM

I can smell mint as I put the paste on my brush.  Pay attention as I brush each tooth.  Mind wonders but I bring it back.  I have a head ache again.  I feel here, but not here.  I continue brushing my teeth, and realise I am staring off into space again.  My mouth feels hot from the mint.  I don't know how long I have been standing here.  I brush my cheeks and tongue, rinse then clean the brush.

Breathing Exercise ( WARNING: Explicit language)

Thursday 2nd September 2010 11.08PM

Sat up on the bed crosses legs.  Observation: Sounds of traffic outside.  Feeling cold but relaxed.  Thinking my cup of tea is going to get cold.  Thinking about breathing again, then about earlier when I went over Carmen's and Joe and we all watched the film "Hunger".  Back to breathing.  Thinking how I miss this cuz I used to do it every night with candles and incense sticks when I lived alone in Cinderford.

Saturday 4th September 2010  11.40AM

Sat on bed crossed legs.  Observation: Arms and torso relax but legs, head and neck tense up.  there's traffic outside and birds singing.  I can't think.  Lisa is screaming and there are so many other voices inside my head, all shouting and talking and crying and I can't understand what they are saying, it's just noise.  I'm shouting at them to shut up but no one listens.  I count my breathing, it's hard to concentrate but I push through.  Slowly the voices, screaming, quiet down.  They are still there, still shouting and screaming, but it's like they are at the end of a corridor.  I count my breaths and I have managed to stop rocking.  I am also starting to relax and feel quiet inside when a text comes through on my mobile cuz I forgot it was there, and it all starts up again.  I try to go back to my quiet place but I can't.  I'm rocking again and the voices and screaming are louder than ever.  I just want to pull my hair out, get them out of my head.  I have a headache but they won't shut up, they won't leave me alone.  "I'm fat, I'm useless, a worthless piece of shit, I should just die, you should fucking kill yourself cuz everyone would be better off without you.  Jump out the window, feel the stones hit you, see them coming at you/  ( I see it)  on and on it goes and I just want to stay here, rocking and screaming.  But my coffee is getting cold and there is housework to do.  I have to smile and pretend the voices aren't there so my girls and Rob will never know what I really am.

Sunday 5th September 2010 10.00PM

Sat cross legged on the bed.  Observation: Backpain.  Concentrating on breathing.  Thinking I turned the light off, and that was a bad idea.  I don't like the dark, esceppially going up the stairs, it always feels like someone is behind me, catching up with me, chasing me and I feel terrified.  I start to feel worried by bringing it back to my breathing.  I keep hearing Eminem song "When I'm gone", but just one line, 3rd verse where Hayley follows him to Sweden and scrams from the crowd "Help Mummy!  Her wrists are bleeding!" and I can feel the pain of the knife cutting into my wrists and it's almost a pleasant pain.  Feel the warm, thick blood as it drips down and slips through my fingers.  I hear a motorbike outside and concentrate on the sound as it passes.  My body is feeling hot, but my arms are cold.  The silence is so loud it almost hurts my ears to hear it.  I turn back to my breathing before opening my eyes and writing.  I don't think it matters what I write or what I say, it's not like my therepist is going to take the time to read all this anyway!  Txt message just scared the shit out of me and the cat sneezing does the same.  I wonder why I feel so nervous after doing this breathing thing?

Monday 6th September 2010

Well I am in that place again.  The one where I promise to change my life.  You know, the one where I say no one else matters except Rob and our girls.  I am going to lose weight, I am going to start an exercise plan and stick to it.  I am going to stop being lazy and go to bed at a decent hour, get up at a decent time, clean the house after exercising, eat healthy, drink water, stop spending so much time on the computer and do more constructive things with my time, knitting, cross-stitch maybe even start writing again.  Will I stick to it?  Who knows, I'm always here and then I'm not and everything goes to pot and I finish looking, feeling and being crap.  If only it was as easy to do as it is to say.

10PM

Sitting in bed with a candle lit and the scent of lavender in the air.
Observation: The sound of traffic driving through the rain.  Relaxing slowly.  Thinking about what I wrote, about beginning to write again.  Maybe getting out my old journals and putting them onto my computer so I can put them onto a disc.  Breathing, counting, relaxing.  Breathing in the scent of lavender.  I'm floating, no longer in my body, I can't feel it.  I am still breathing, but if I open my eyes I will see myself below.  Floating out of my body and feeling free.  Floating for a while and then slowly opening my eyes to find I am in my body and I am not free at all, it was just an illusion.

Tuesday 7th September 2010 10.25PM

Sat crossed leg on bed with candle lit.  Observation:  Didn't have the same effect as last night.  I tried to do the breathing and couldn't.  Felt afraid and had to keep opening my eyes to look around me.  Tried to do it with my eyes open but was sweating, nervous.  Turned light on, blew out candle and poured wax on my arm, then tried again.  Still nothing.  I feel so stupid.  No marks on my arm to hide, the wax didn't mark and the knife wasn't sharp enough that I used on my arm.  I really need to buy some new knifes - knives- which was is it spelt again?  (Writing becomes erract, messy, sharper)  KNIFES- KNIVES- knifes- knives- Nifes - Nives- Knifes? Knives?  Knifes knives knifes knives knifes knives knifes knives knifes knives cut knifes stab knives bleed knifes knives knifes (Lisa is here) knifes hurt knives pain knives knifes knives knifes KNIVES (scribble)  doesn't matter, who gives a fucking shit anyway!  Fucked, and shitted on, cruel and spiteful bastards all of em!  Hahahahaha fuck you slut!  Read that BITCH!  Don't fucking care!  Don't fucking give 2 shite about any of this anyway!  Write what the fuck I fucking well please!  Cock sucking son of a bitch!  Chop your fucking dick off and shove it down your throat until you fucking choke on it and drown in your own fucking come.  Bastard asshole cunting mother fucking batched up fucker!! FUCKER FUCKER FUCKER FUCKIN..... (Scribble followed by lighter messy writing)  Maybe she's right, as if Devy what's her name is even going to read it anyway?  Should just give up. pretend, smile, so fucking ridiculous haha posh bitch outside my window, wanna scream at her to fuck off, but won't can't, not right, not fucking normal!  normal who the fuck is normal anayway?  Smoke a fag, let it burn burn baby burn!  Let em all fucking burn!  Burn the whole fucking world, burn the field of flowers with you in it stupid pathectic cry baby!  What are you?  Fucking cry baby pathetic fat ugly don't give a fuck!  Bitch whore! Hoe! Hoe!

Fuck you mood

Wednesday 1st September

We talked about the family, how they make me angry when they take the piss and why I can't say no.  Blah, blah, blah.....  Heard it all before.  I can't say no because I feel I have to be the one that helps, cares and be in my 'mother role' because it's all the things I never had.  I can't say no because I was never allowed to say no when I was a child, no matter what anyone said or did, or how it made me feel, I could never say no.  Like I didn't already know all that.  How the trauma of the past is affecting my life now, and then she drew the fucking diagram!!  Like I haven't seen that before.  And how we are going to work on that rather than on what happened in the past.  Yeah, good luck with that!  Self loathing- you're pretty, you're worth it, you're worth being loved and all that bullshit they tell you when they are working on self esteem issues.  Breathing exercises for anger, I have to take 5 min every day to some yoga type breathing and record what I think, what I feel, where I am, it's all crap really.  But I'll do it cuz she's the one with the fancy title to her name.  Do I think it will help?  Like fuck I do!  But we shall see.  Maybe I'm just in a 'fuck you' mood this week.

Meeting Lisa

Wednesday 4th August 2010

We talked about my other councelling sessions today.  How it went and how I just got left, as if I didn't matter.  We talked about "Not Ivy" inside me, who actually likes the name Lisa but I just felt too stupid to tell her that.  The angry, evil, cruel one locked in a cave deep inside, screaming to be let out, to be set free.  She says I have a way to connect to Lisa, talk to her, listen to what she has to say instead of pushing her away and keeping her locked up inside.  She just doesn't understand how bad she would be if I let her out, set her free.  The things she would say and do would be so bad, so cruel and evil.  There is a part of me that knows Lisa and I are the same person, but there's another part of me that says No, I can't be her!  The things she wants to do and say, cannot be me.  She says she will help me connect to Lisa and from all the books I have read on the subject I am pretty sure she will help bring the two of us together, as one person instead of how we are now, but who will that new person be?  I just don't know.

A year in darkness

I am 39 years old.  I have had nightmares, and regressions to my childhood for the past 10+ years.  I have been diagnosed with Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder, Post traumatic stress disorder, manic depressive, and Anxiety panic attacks.  I also have Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia and Arthritis.  2 years ago I went and saw a therapist and asked for help.  I felt at the time, that if I did not get help soon, I would be dead before the end of the year.  This is the journals of my year in therapy.  I have wrote it as it was written.  I have changed nothing.  I have added a few by-passages so you can keep up with things I do not say, and things that I wrote.  It is hard reading, but maybe it can help someone.  Someone who has been, or still is that dark place.  Just so you can know, there really is a light at the end of the tunnel.  It isn't going to be easy, but it is worth it.  It doesn't happen over night, and it takes work, a lot of work.  I still have a long way to go.  Unfortunately due to budget cuts in the mental health care, I am no longer seeing my therapist.  So I am plodding away as best I can.  But this is my journals of the year I had a therapist to help me get along.  


Wednesday 21 July 2010
I met my therapist today though I can't remember her name.  I think she may actually be able to help me.  I know I can never forget what went on in the past, but I think she can help me put things where they belong.  I hate that it's always in my life, it happened so long ago.  Surely it should stay there, but it doesn't, it's always here, in my mind, in my dreams, affected my whole life.  I don't want to be so angry and feel this rage inside me and when there is no rage, there is nothing.  The disconnection from the world, I don't feel anything, see anything, nothing matters, it's like I'm empty.  I want it all gone, or at least in a place I can manage it so I rule it, it doesn't rule me any more.  It's so hard and it would be so easy just to fall into it and be nothing, just empty.  I don't want to fall into that hole, I want to be a part of the world, I want to feel, and I want my life back, and I think she can help me do that, I really hope so.

My life has been on hold for so many years now.  Going back some years ago I began to get flash backs, nightmares, anxiety and panic attacks.  I hit one heck of a brick wall in my life and everything collapsed around me.  I tried to carry on and forget it, push it as far back in my mind as I could, and tried everything so I wouldn't have to think of the reasons for it all.  I had to give up work, my Wicca and Witchcraft took a back seat, and I retreated from life. I supported my family for years, and it doesn't feel good to be on benefits but I was sick for a long time and they were nessacery, they still are, for now.  It annoys when people make me feel like a leach for being on them, it is not a choice.  Surely no one would choose a life of benefits if they don't need to?  Well, I am aware some do, but that has never been me.  I spent all my time helping others, babysitting, helping with problems, being support networks, anything so I didn't have to think of my own life.  My marriage began to fall apart and the only thing that stayed on track was my relationship with my daughters.  It was hard work, but they were worth it, and I hid everything from them so they would never know what pain I was really in.

 It worked well for a few years, but as always, hiding from it just made it worse.  More flash backs, more nightmares, and the rage kicked in.  If I was angry then I would not cry, and I hated to cry.  No one likes to cry, but if I cried then it was a BIG problem, and I would "punish" myself for it.  My husband did what he could, but not knowing the problem, not knowing what I was going through, I didn't share, never talked, just shouted, cursed and was cruel.  I even went so far as to threaten him with a knife.  I went to the doctor and they gave me anti-depressants.  Of course that just covered the problem, it didn't heal it.  I went to see a counsellor, she was a trainee and I was "her hours".  She really wasn't qualified to help with my problems.  I didn't know this at the time, and I went along to our meetings, even though I felt it wasn't helping in any way, and after 6 months I had a phone call one week to say she couldn't see me anymore, she had quit.  I wasn't given another replacement, she had told them i didn't need help and I was "fine".  It was a false mask I used, so I guess I can't blame her.

 I struggled on with life and then tried again a year later.  The doctor sent me to see a mental health assessment.  The man that took the meeting said I had 3 children and I was married, so whatever had happened obviously hadn't affected that much and I didn't need help.  The mask was on again.  Life went on, the rage grew worse, and I was now more than just a bitch.  I guess life does that to people.  It's so easy to get stuck in a routine and hide away from everything and everyone.  If I didn't let anyone in I could never get hurt.  Well, another year passed and I again went to see a counsellor.  This time it was even worse, it was a man again and he kept making inappropriate remarks to me, making me feel uncomfortable and nervous around him.  How could I open up to someone like that?  I told him I didn't think he could help me, he said he would refer me to a psychologist.  I agreed this was the best course of action and he said it would be a few months waiting list.  I figured I had been this way for nearly 10 years now, so a few more months wasn't going to hurt.  I waited, and waited and waited.  After 8 months of waiting I called him to find out what was going on with my refer all.  He had forgotten about me and had not referred me.  Oh he was very sorry about it, and asked me not to say anything as he could be in serious trouble.  I should have said something, but by this time I had pretty much given up on everything and life seemed too hard to live.  I was contemplating suicide.  It seemed the only way out.

A month later I met my psychologist, Deveaney, (that's properly spelt wrong) I went to the meetings never expected it to help, and never expecting her to care.  I was wrong.  As time went by she helped with my problems.  I didn't have to say anything, I didn't have to talk about the flashbacks, the childhood abuse that had made them.  Yet she had a way of knowing, of talking about things that mattered, about life and how I could learn to cope again.  It was trial and error and some things would work, some would not.  But it was OK.  It was a long hard healing process, and there were so many times when suicide seemed the only way.  Those were the weeks she would phone me in between our meetings to make sure I was still alive I guess.  But she never gave up on me, not like I had done to myself.  I was border line schizophrenic and Personal Identity Disorder.

Now, nearly a year and half later I am beginning my life again.  I am a strong capable women again.  I have seen a psychiatrist and I have Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder and I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  I am now on antipsychotic drugs and things are finally getting better.  With the love and support of my husband, I have been able to survive again.  Life seems so beautiful now.  Living in the dark makes you appreciate the light all the more.  I made a decision that I wanted to live again.  So that is what I am doing.  I am learning to live again.  That is why the journey has just begun.  I am on a mission to lose all the weight I put on through over eating my feelings.  After that I will be looking at giving up smoking.  Tomorrow I begin a new volunteer job in a local charity shop.  My goal is to eventually get back to work again.  Right now it is small and steady, baby steps. The past took all of my childhood away from me, and I refuse to let it take any more.  This is my journey out of the dark.