I didn't grow up charmed like most people. If anything, I grew up cursed. From the beginning, my parents couldn't take care of me. I was passed around from place to place. Later on, when I was just 5, they decided that they wanted to be good parents. Problem was, my father was sick. He was an angry man. The only way that he could release his hurt was to hurt others. Poor me, poor little me. My father, who claimed to be orthodox, but never attended any religious service, made me always abide by the rules of his faith. I couldn't do anything normal like the other kids. I couldn't cut my hair, I couldn't get my ears pierced. Then there were wierd rules like I couldn't wear logos. But there is a longer list than that let me assure you.
The only person that ever stuck by my side at all times was my brother. Then at the age of 18, and I was 5, my father kicked him out. I was alone in that place. With my mother who was afraid of her own shadow, and a father who hurt everyone that he loved.
Being a child around a man who is always angry is never a good thing. I could never be able to count the many times that he told me I was worthless, ruined his life, and how nothing would ever become of me.
I think he was really talking about how he felt about himself.
When I was 12 years old, he disowned me for two months, because I didn't know anything about his faith, and wanted to join a lutheran church. He didn't talk to me. He forbid my mother to talk to me. No one made me food, no one gave me hugs. I was all alone. I was all alone in the world's loneliest house.
If I can say that I was given a gift, I most certainly was. I was blessed with a photographic memory. School was always easy. I passed everything with an A plus without even trying. I graduated in the top of my class. I recieved extremely high marks on my ACT
I was accepted into a really good major university on a basically a full ride scholarship.
The day my father dropped me off at school, he told me. "All you are going to do is get pregnant and flunk out". He wasn't doing this because he was trying the reverse psychology. He was doing this because he was a hateful man.
The University went well for me and after a year I switch my major from engineering to biology. I excelled naturally in all of my science classes. My second year is when everything turned to shit.
I had started to become majorly depressed. I could bearly make it out of bed. I just wanted to lay there. I had no desire to do anything. I developed major stomach issues.
I went to the University clinic, and they refered me over to the University Psychiatrist. I was placed on a large round of antidepressents. After 9 months, I was feeling better.
My first summer, I went back home, but that was the worst idea. But, I didnt have anywhere else to go. I was once again berated for the entire summer.
After a few small time late teens relationships, I had met a man. He was wonderfull. He was a wonderful boyfriend. He really was the ying to my yang. We always knew what to say to make me feel better. He really did complete me. The next summer, I moved in with him instead of living with my parents. That went well. I decided to commute from my home town to the University, which was about an hour away. I only had class three days a week, so it was not too bad to do. Around October, something was happening with my boyfriend. He started to loose it. He started to loose it fast.
He had never told me that he was bi-polar, or the extent to which he was bi- polar. He freaked out. One night after we had gotten into a small fight about something small, he tried to beat me up. He wouldn't let me leave. He hid my phone.
I hit him with all of my strength, once in the side of the head, and then once in the front of the head, as hard as I could. He fell down. I ran away. I went to the police station but did not report him. I should have report him.
The next day at class, my knuckles were scraped up and I was all bruised from fighting. I had a doctors appointment just for a check up. She asked me what had happened. I told her that my girfriend and I had gotten into a fight. She looked straight at me and said, "You know if you need help, we can help you." I again told her it was just my girlfriend and I fighting.
Two weeks later all of my stuff was out of there, and I had moved back close to the Unversity. I took out a large loan. I moved into a really nice apartment complex, that was more like a spa for college students than an apartment complex.
I started seeing a psychiatrist again for depression. My first psychiatrist had finished his last year of residency I believe, and I was assigned to a new one. I really didn't like him. I stopped going after about 3 months. I was doing good though. I was happier than ever, and I was living life.
I met a wonderfull man who had himself overcome all odds against him, and made his way into the University as well. He hit off instantly. However, we had our differences, and it did not last.
I graduated from school. My GPA was a little lower than I had wanted it. I had spent almost two years depressed. There was bearly a way that I could make it into graduate school.
I decided to take some time off, and explore the real world. The real world was a great place. I was having the time of my life. Nothing could be better. I got a really great sales job traveling across the region, and made a ton of money (for a 22 year old) doing it.
I switched jobs and after not seriously dating someone for quite a while, met the man that I was to marry. He was perfect. He really took care of me. That was so important because I had no one else to take care of me. I was out there all alone. He made me feel wanted, and loved. We were married two months later. We just really did it for each other.
After we got marrried, he began working later and later. He was working 60 hours a week plus. I was lonely. I had no one. I became depressed yet again. Four months later, I found out I was pregnant, and had my son. My hormones were so out of wack that I was on major antidepressants and I couldnt stop eating. I had gained nearly 60 pounds and was ranging close to 200 pounds. I lost all of the weight nine months after. But I was having a hard time. I was lonely. I was so lonely.
Years passed, my husband and I have had some serious ups and downs, some that I want to blog about too.
I guess the reason for me posting this is because I will always feel alone. I will always feel alienated. I lost my job just over 6 months ago, and a lot has been going through my head. I have been on the maximum dosage of anti-depressants possible. But it's not working. None of it is working anymore. I am about as depressed as they get. I no longer have insurance since I was let go. I can not afford to go to the doctor. So here I am wallowing in my depression on incorrect medications. I called human services, and she recommend a few doctors, but still the intial consultations are 150 plus. I guess this is survival of the fittest? If youre depressed your just supposed to die.
I feel horrible. I recently thought I was pregnant again, but I was not. The depression is just taking over my body. It makes me tired. It makes me lethargic. It makes me sad. I don't think anyone knows quite how sad I really am. I am afraid that if my husband knew he would just leave me. He is not the kind of person that handles stress well.
I take care of my son during the day because he is not yet in school. I am a good mother to him. I try to do everything for him that a growing mind needs. I try to do things that my parents did not do for me. I always feel like I'm failing. The more I feel like failing, the more I feel like I'm withdrawing.
I seriously sit here and contemplate what the world would be like without me. What would I do? Would anyone ever even show up to my funeral? I don't know. My son would move on, and maybe have questions when he is older.
I can almost feel what it would be like just getting rid of everything I own, just giving it away. I wouldn't need it. I hate this demon that is always on my back. It will never go away. I always try to fight it away, but it won't go anywhere. It will always be there.
I love my son more than anything in this entire world. I feel like that no matter what I do that I will never be a good enough mother. That he is actually suffering because of me. ( I really know that this is not true.) I feel like my husband could be with a woman that would fit him better. One maybe, that grew up better, and that can fit his needs better. I feel like anyone that hires me, is just going to get a shit worker. I feel like I can't do anything right. I just feel the pain of depression radiating throughout my entire body. It feels like I have the flu, but I don't. I have depression. I am not happy. If I were my internal organs, I would have just jumped ship by now- oh wait that's probably what they are doing now.
I just wish that all of this would stop. I wish that there was one person out there that could help me. But there is no one out there that can help me. I am all alone.
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