Tag Archives: Addiction

WOMAN OF THE WORLD

I’m not a “Woman Of The World” that’s one of the problems but it is one of my favorite Aerosmith songs.

I’ve always been addicted to People, Places, and Things. This causes me to act irrationally and think irrationally. I know this yet I do it anyway.

I’m still being contacted by “Steven Tyler” who I know isn’t actually Steven Tyler. I don’t have that kind of luck. Nope. I get men who want to show me their glass eye by popping it out, men who choose to have an actual hook for a hand instead of a normal prosthetic, men who have tear drop tattoos under one eye and yes they have been incarcerated and also want me to pay their child support for them. I also attract other alcoholics/addicts, a lot of homeless men, many violent men, “musicians” and “tattoo artists” that don’t have studios or legal equipment and mostly do “prison style” tattoos. I would show you 2 of mine but one I had re-done and the other is in an area best left unseen. It’s a heart with wings.

Maybe I am a Woman Of The World. Just not your World. I’ll always look like I’m going to a concert. I can’t help it, well I can I just don’t want to. Love me or not that’s your problem.7706d56d2ba6d2837c4f649f8fe18580

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IN THE BEGINNING (MEDICATIONS)

I’ve said previously that I knew I was different from an early age and so did my parents. I think part of this had to do with being a twin. Having another child to compare me to plus my Mom’s own family history put a lot of doubts in their minds. I know this because both of my parents had admitted it at one time or another.

I started drinking when I first turned 17 if I remember correctly. It could’ve been earlier I’m not sure. When I first tried alcohol I realized the butterflies in my stomach went away, I could look people in the eye and have a conversation, I wasn’t constantly worried about saying the wrong thing, I wasn’t afraid to go places or to parties, I didn’t care if someone called me names or didn’t like me.

By the time I was 18 I was drinking daily. It was always at night and I never drank alone. It was however large quantities of alcohol. I was a big person. I was over 200 pounds and 5 foot 7 inches. I was drinking roughly a case of beer and a pint of hard liquor a night. I would usually start drinking between 4-5p.m. and stop whenever.

My behavior changed. The people I surrounded myself with didn’t help. I first tried to kill myself at 18 and because of my blood alcohol level I was court ordered to see a Psychiatrist who put me on Antidepressants. I’ve been on over 30 different types of medication since.

I was hospitalized twice in my late teens and early twenties. No diagnosis was made I was just given Antidepressants.

I’ve been court ordered several times to see different Psychiatrists and Therapists where again no diagnosis was ever made except one Doctor did diagnose Social Phobia and put me on more Antidepressants and Buspar.

For over 20 years I was on Antidepressants. The problem is they made things worse. They put a person with Bipolar Disorder on the wrong type of medications.

All of the medications prescribed to me make a person with Bipolar Disorder worse.

The two I was on the longest, Paxil and Prozac, actually cause manic-depression, euphoria, anxiety, panic attacks, impulsiveness, alcohol abuse, irritability, worsening depression, all precursors to emerging suicidality. The physical side effects are just as bad. Weight gain, high cholesterol, diabetes mellitus, bradycardia, vertigo, urinary hesitancy, urine retention, polyuria, urethritis, kidney calculus, blood in urine, Acute Renal Failure, ovarian cysts, ulcers, acute glaucoma, anemia, sinusitis, and early menopause.

The Doctors said my Kidney Failure was caused by a thickening of both ureters. This can happen with urine retention. You don’t feel the need to go so you don’t. Eventually it causes damage. I went into early menopause and no one can explain it, I’ve had ovarian cysts for years but they said that wasn’t cause. I also have acute glaucoma and sinusitis, vertigo, anemia, an irregular heartbeat and an ulcer. I did have diabetes mellitus but that seems to have went away since my kidneys failed.

It has been explained to me several times that because I was given so many of the wrong medications it is now impossible to treat my Bipolar Disorder. I have run out of options.

A new brain scan showed I have even less white and gray matter for a woman my age. It also suggests a traumatic brain injury at some time and not an in utero infection causing the swelling.

It was awkward answering the questions about that.

I never even thought being hit over the head with a heavy chair could’ve been the reason for anything. I was wrong.

When my Dad wanted to know what the new team of Doctors had said I wasn’t going to tell him the truth. But I did. It was a mistake. He became angry at me.

He said I had embarrassed him and made him look like a fool that night. He was embarrassed to have a drunk for a daughter. He couldn’t protect someone who was a liar and a drunk so he didn’t. He said he wasn’t to blame for my problems I had put myself in that situation years ago.

I was shocked, hurt, and angry. I said some things back to him and his final reply was “I’m glad J kicked your ass!”.

He just started taking Prednisone again and I’m hoping it was the steroids talking.

I find myself wanting to leave here more and more each day.


THE FOURTH AND FINAL OPINION

The fourth and final opinion about my mental health was given to me yesterday. I have over the last 7 years been to doctors with the best education, considered to be the best in their fields, the best reviewed by other patient’s, and I’ve even traveled to other states.

The new Doctor doing my assessment is a Psychiatrist and a Neurologist. She was able to get all of my records including my brain scan. I was surprised at this. She is connected to the Warren-Alpert Medical School and consulted with everyone in both departments before meeting with me. She had already observed my behavior and had the 2 hour interview I had done with the Counselor which included a detailed family history and my own history.

I’m not a genius but I know a lot about specific subjects. I’m quiet but observant. I’ve already said that I enjoy doing research.

She brought me into her office and had me sit down. She started off by saying “I think you already know what I’m going to say”. I started rocking saying “No, no,no,no,no,no,no” and crying because I did know what she was going to say.

When I looked up I noticed she was crying. For some reason that stopped me. No doctor had ever shown emotion about my mental health.

She said she was sorry there wasn’t anything she could do for me. The medications given to me in my youth had caused me to become extremely difficult to treat. She also said they are probably why I went into Kidney Failure. One of the side effects of 12 of the medications had to do with the bladder, with holding urine, problems with the pelvic floor and urinary tract and not feeling the need to urinate. All of this would cause the thickening of the ureters that I now have.

Not one Kidney doctor or Urologist ever asked about my previous medications or even suspected them.

She said the significant loss of gray and white matter in my brain is why I have trouble with CBT or DBT Therapy I have memory issues that are getting worse.

She said “I’m not going to lie to you. You know what the outlook is for you. You’re not physically well enough for ECT and this state isn’t as advanced as other states as far as alternative therapies for you”. I told her that I knew on average someone like me lives 25 years less than the average person but with all of my other problems the number is probably higher. She said “Yes it is, much higher”.

I need to find a way to come to terms with all of this. The biggest problem is my Dad and my twin sister not understanding any of it. A perfect stranger cries for me and knows that I might have a good 10 years left if that but my own family thinks I don’t try hard enough or I’m lazy. That is what bothers me the most.

I might have to leave the only home I’ve ever known to find some peace.


CATFISHING AND INSANITY

Maybe I need a tougher looking profile picture. Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest about my mental health and addiction or the rest of my life. Maybe I shouldn’t make comments when I think something or someone is generous or kind. I keep setting myself up for these awful situations. Somehow I’m the one that always ends up feeling bad about it.

I don’t remember how many years ago it was but I had just opened a Twitter account and I was following Nikki Sixx. It was a verified account. I made a couple of observations that he or maybe someone who works for him “liked”. Not long after I get a Direct Message from Nikki Sixx. At first I thought “Huh, that’s weird. But I have met a lot of musicians and know people who know him so who knows?”. Nope. It wasn’t him and I felt like an ass. It was so bad I closed my account and went off Twitter for over a year. It kind of sucked because I had a lot of followers including the lead singer for Blue October but I wasn’t in a good place.

The second incident involved Dave Navarro. I was back on Twitter and he was involved in a campaign against domestic violence. Knowing his story and having much respect for him I commented on his verified account. Someone then started using his name to try to talk to me about domestic violence. I didn’t answer. They then came on my blog and made nasty comments about my own past history with men and violence. I was furious. I did everything I could to trace the person. For months I went back and forth between crying and periods of rage. I also kept thinking I wasn’t good enough, I was a horrible person, and I deserved to be treated like garbage. It took a long time to recover from that one.

Now Steven Tyler keeps calling me on “Hangouts” something I didn’t even know I had. I commented on his Kia commercial on his verified account and he “liked” it. Then the Direct Messages started. He said he just broke up with his girlfriend, she cheated on him and he just wanted someone normal to talk to. I knew it wasn’t him. Did I want it to be him? Of course I did. I was mad that it wasn’t him. When the nonstop calling started I did the one thing you’re not supposed to do. I engaged.

I kept asking questions. The answers were evasive and the wording was strange. Whenever “let’s” was supposed to be used it wasn’t and there were a lot of mistakes in the grammar. It’s a pet peeve of mine. I asked about it and he said he had the flu. He must’ve come on here because he knew about my kidney situation and said he would do anything to help as long as he could “make me smile”. There were way too many “babes” and he kept saying he was looking for “true love”. Sorry, but you decide on a Bipolar woman who has been sober over 9 years and has issues with trust and men?

I said I wouldn’t talk to him unless it was from a verified account. He made an excuse that his Twitter had been hacked so he couldn’t from there. I said “What about Instagram?” He said “OK” but never did it. At the same time I see that the real Steven Tyler is on plane so I asked the fake what he was doing. He said he had just had some visitors. I said “Did they ski dive over?” “Were they snakes?” He replied “You are funny” I said “I know I am because I’m looking at a picture of the real Steven Tyler sitting on a plane right now you idiot”. I haven’t heard from him since. The snakes were in reference to “Snakes on a Plane” I was amusing myself at that point.

It still pisses me off and makes me sad at the same time. I love Steven Tyler. I don’t want my memories of him to be tarnished by some asshole. I admit I’ve always wanted to be around people in the music industry. People who write lyrics that I love and identify with. So many of them have experienced the same things I have as far as mental health and addiction and having it centered around the music scene. But I’m not delusional, well maybe a little. Maybe I just miss the days of going to concerts and meeting bands, hanging out backstage. I wonder what it would’ve been like if I looked like I do now instead of the large girl who was like one of the guys.

I’m too old to think like this and maybe I do it to protect myself from actually being in the real world.1a8558e0c844a70f89c943a1be855a8e


MUSIC AND STUDY HALL

It’s easy to say you love music. But music has always been different for me. From the moment I was born I loved it. I know this love comes from my Mom. She played the music she loved constantly. In the car, in the house, and at work. I grew up loving the music she loved. She passed her love of music not only to me but to my brother also.

My brother is 7 years older than I am so I also listened to what he loved growing up. I grew up with music from the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s and 80’s. I was lucky they both had such a wide variety of taste. It went from Oldies to Disco to Country to Rock to Metal and I loved it all. Eventually I figured out my own favorites.

I had a hard time making friends and spent a lot of time alone in my room listening to music. I knew I was different but I didn’t understand why. It would be many years before I did. I was bullied most days at school but kept it to myself. I kept everything to myself. To this day I still have the same 1 best friend. I’m lucky she knows all the bad and all the good about me and accepts me as I am. She was never good at confrontation either.

We both used music to express ourselves. If we were pissed off we would put in some Pantera or Metallica and blast it while driving fast in her black Trans Am (I probably got the car wrong but it was a T-top black sports car that looked cool). She knew if I was sad we were playing Aerosmith. My love of Aerosmith knew no bounds. I had every cassette they had made, every VHS tape, every album, and when they came to town I was at their shows.

In high school when we had study hall they did this odd thing where they would put you in the back of an ongoing class. So as a Junior I would sit in the back of a Freshman History class for Study Hall. One day I was bored and started listing all the Aerosmith songs I knew. A Freshman boy looked over to see what I was writing. He said “Are those Aerosmith songs?”. I told him they were. He said “What do you know about Aerosmith?”. I thought “Oh no he didn’t” but I didn’t talk to people not even little jackass Freshman. But he kept it up and people who know me do know that if you poke long and hard enough you will get a response.

Needless to say I was asked to leave Study Hall. The Front Office had never seen or heard of me, unfortunately my brother was well known. Even though he has a different last name they flagged my sister and I just in case. All for the love of Aerosmith and because I let the music do the talking.

When I began to stutter several years ago my relationship with music became even stronger. I don’t think people really understand what it’s like to be almost mute at crucial times. My stuttering isn’t a normal stutter. It sounds like jibberish.

When all you want to do is tell someone how you real feel but can’t because nonsense comes out of your mouth it’s frustrating. The more frustrated you get the worse your speech gets.

When I drank I had no problem with speaking. This wasn’t a good thing. Music also influenced my mood quite a bit while I was drinking. My best friend knew this before I did and would try to prevent certain songs from being played at a bar or party. But she wasn’t my babysitter and could only do so much.

She did know that if she put on Aerosmith I would usually calm down and go back to the somewhat happy drunk I started out as.

Mr. Steven Tyler’s words, music, and whimsical charm have saved me more times than I can count. I thank you for that often. I also thank you for showing honesty and generosity to younger versions of me. I may not be religious but I believe in the power of music.


MENTAL HEALTH AND ADDICTION STATISTICS AND INFORMATION

I like statistics and research but it’s hard to see some numbers when they are not changing much year after year. It’s even harder knowing that not much is being done about it. Here is some of the newest information and you can decide for yourself.

  • Approximately 1 in 5 adults experiences mental illness in a given year.
  • 1 in 25 adults experiences serious mental illness in a given year that interferes with or limits 1 or more major live activities.
  • 1.1% of adults live with Schizophrenia.
  • 2.6% live with Bipolar Disorder.
  • 6.9% had at least 1 major depressive episode in the past year.
  • 18.1% experienced an anxiety disorder such as PTSD, OCD, and specific phobias.
  • Among the 20.2 million adults who experience a substance abuse disorder 50.5% had a co-occurring mental illness.
  • Half of all chronic mental illness begins by age 14.
  • Despite effective treatment there are long delays, sometimes decades, between the first signs of symptoms and a diagnosis.
  • People living with serious mental illness face an increased risk of chronic medical conditions.
  • People with serious mental illness die on average 25 years earlier than other people.
  • More than 90% of children who die by suicide have a mental health condition.
  • Each day an average of 18-22 veterans die by suicide because they don’t get the help they need.

This is a report sent to the government every year. Every year nothing changes. I’m one person with limited time left to change things. I don’t have the energy to change my socks. I have severe chronic medical conditions that interfere with my mental health.

Last night I received a phone call about my student loan. I started crying on the phone. I was babbling and stuttering. At one point I said “My dad is worried right now he won’t have the money to bury me so how can I pay you?”. The thing is the loan isn’t supposed to be there. If something happened where you went on Disability after school and didn’t even get a chance to really use what you learned they are supposed to “forgive” the loan. But only if the paper from Disability says when your next review is.

I’ve asked Disability to send me the paper 4 times. Each time I get the same one saying that I’m on Permanent Disability but there is no mention of a review so they won’t except it. I get frustrated when the loan people call because I can’t understand why they won’t take it. I told them I’m sick enough that I don’t need a review! I won’t be getting better only worse. That’s why they won’t put a review date on there.

I’m at a point where I don’t care. One of my birds is dying and we’ve had her for over 20 years, my Pomeranian won’t be here much longer she’s 14 and has had epilepsy since she was 3. My dad’s health is getting worse, he looks like skeleton and I don’t want to be the one who finds him. I don’t want to watch another parent die. It’s too much. I can’t do it. We fight sometimes now because we’re both sick but before that we were like best friends. We would go to the movies together, do anything that involved animals together, watch TV together and laugh, he kept me sober for the first 5 years by being there. He’s always been there. Mentally I know it will break me.

It’s why I want to move to Florida or at least spend a few months out of the year there. If only everything wasn’t about money. My sister acted excited about the new jewelry I’ve been making and said she wanted to help with marketing. Of course I can’t get in touch with her now or when I do she’s too tired to talk. She’s the best salesperson I know and has a friend who owns a boutique and likes my jewelry. I’m being selfish. She probably is tired. I’m just confused and scared.


HOW DO YOU KNOW WHEN YOU’RE DONE?

I’ve been losing weight again, I don’t feel like eating or drinking, and I don’t care. I can’t remember when I had my stents changed for my kidney but I think I’m a few months past due. I don’t feel like making an appointment, getting the blood work done, going back for the surgery, I don’t really care.

I haven’t colored my hair in months, I don’t put make up on anymore even if I actually leave the house. I do not look at anyone, I keep my head down. I’m getting worse, it used to bother me but now I don’t care.

I’ve been trying so hard to force the people around me to understand how I feel or what are real illnesses that I sometimes can’t control. I keep doing things for people hoping they will love me and instead it backfires. I never should’ve bought a Smart TV thinking my Dad would learn how to use it. I couldn’t keep paying a $220 cable bill for TV he couldn’t hear and kept complaining about. He refuses to learn and yells at me daily about the TV.

My sister shut her phone off so I can’t talk to her.

I’ve been stuttering more and more. I also keep falling down. I see red spots, then black, then the floor. I think it’s because I have chronic low blood pressure but it’s not fun when you’re at the store and go to get something from the bottom shelf. I also noticed when I’m writing sometimes I write a word 3 times. The same word 3 times in row and I don’t realize it until I proof read.

My Dad scares me a lot. I wish he didn’t. I can’t take the stomping, slamming, muttering, throwing things, then a booming GODDAMN! I feel like I’m going to throw up constantly and there’s a lump in my throat. I can’t finish a necklace because he starts a tantrum and I have to stop what I’m doing.

I don’t know what to do. I’m just feeling a little lost lately.


ROCK BOTTOM

I had many “rock bottoms” but they never really stopped me from drinking for too long. Only one thing eventually stopped me. Learning the reason why I was drinking.

It took too many years to figure it out but when I did it made everything clearer for me.

Drinking took away that empty ache I always had. It took away the anxiety I felt 24 hours a day. Yes, I know alcohol causes more anxiety as the alcohol leaves your system, but it was so bad I didn’t care. I just needed some time without it. Feeling like you’re on a roller coaster all the time is exhausting. Without alcohol I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. I never would’ve left my bedroom. Some would say that would’ve been a good thing. But they were not inside my head. If you have General Anxiety and Social Anxiety, which used to be called “Social Phobia” than you understand.

Alcohol took as much as it gave. It took my money, friends, family, health, dignity, and what little self-esteem I had.

I tried to stop drinking many times over 20 plus years. Some of these times were court ordered and some I decided on my own. I attended AA for two years and disliked it immensely. I also went to an outpatient rehab 3 times a week for a year. That wasn’t bad but I still went back to drinking. The reason? I never asked myself why and neither did anyone else. Self-medicating was never brought up anywhere I went. Not at any of the Psychiatrists, Therapists, AA meetings, or rehab.

It wasn’t until I was 36 that a Doctor asked why? I answered honestly. So I wouldn’t feel anything that I was feeling. He dug deeper. He asked about my family history and if anyone had addiction issues or mental health problems. When I told him my family history I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. I didn’t understand why.

He said “No one has ever diagnosed you with a mental illness?” I told him one Psychiatrist diagnosed me with “Social Phobia”. He asked if she had given me medication for it. I told him she prescribed me Paxil then Prozac. At this point he was shaking his “NO” so hard I was worried.

We talked more and he made an appointment for me to come back the following week when he had my test results.

I was diagnosed as Bipolar with Social Anxiety. The Conversion Disorder came a little later. My hands shook but I didn’t think to tell him. I thought it was caffeine. It wasn’t until food started falling off every utensil that I knew it was something else. When I started to stutter and my head started to shake a little I was terrified. My Doctor had an idea what it was but sent me to a specialist to be sure.

I stopped drinking the day I was diagnosed. It’s been about 9 and half years. I do not know the exact date and time because I forget a lot of things. I’ve forgotten more since I had a round of ECT (Shock Therapy) that didn’t go as planned. Also I didn’t plan on dying for a few seconds or being under anesthesia for so long or so many times. But that’s what happens when you go into Kidney Failure and don’t know it.

I also don’t believe that if you “fall off the wagon” one time  that should you should go back to zero. I know too many people who had years of sobriety slip up once and because of the shame kept drinking. I believe if the stigma and shame were taken away this wouldn’t happen. I’m living proof.

Five years ago I drank one night. One night. Since then I have not had another drink. I was honest with my family about it and they understood but were not happy. They didn’t shun me or make me start over either.

I recently read a Tweet where someone had a drunk dream and their biggest worry was that they would’ve wasted their 5 years of sobriety. It shouldn’t be like that. What if you’r at a wedding and accidentally grab the wrong soda and it has rum in it? Do you start over? I know it’s different because it isn’t intentional but it was the first concert I had ever been to sober, I was alone, in another state, I was manic and I had just died a few weeks before. When I showed up alone I felt like everyone was looking at me (not in a good way because why would they do that?) Then when I realized it was in a good way I didn’t know how to react. I had always been over 200 pounds at concerts and now I was 125 (because I was sick) so I panicked.

The next morning I booked a flight home and talked to my family. It’s been 4 and half years since then. So 9 and half years. If you don’t like it you don’t have to do it.086a8d692cb6d849fed48f86d0d04959


IS ALL ADDICTION RELATED TO CHILDHOOD TRAUMA?

Dr. Gabor Mate believes all addiction is related to childhood trauma. I find this disturbing but not surprising.

During the 20 plus years I spent drinking I was court ordered to see a Psychiatrist or Therapist several times. Each one asked if there had been any abuse in my childhood. Even when I insisted there hadn’t been they still kept asking. None of them asked any other questions.

Some questions that would’ve been helpful for them would be “Does anyone in your family have a mental illness?”, “Does anyone in your family have a problem with alcohol?”, “Does anyone in your family have issues with anxiety?”. These would’ve been good questions to ask.

My Grandfather on my father’s side loved animals but had no friends. He had trouble talking to people. He also had ulcers that would eventually lead to his death at an early age when they began bleed. He was afraid to go to the Hospital so when he finally did it was too late.

My Father loves animals and has never had any friends. He also found it difficult to talk to people or be in social situations. When he was 17 he joined the Navy and found that alcohol helped him fit in. He continued to drink after leaving the Navy and didn’t stop until I was around 7 years old. My Mother ordered for him in restaurants, made doctor appointments for him, and handled anything that might cause anxiety for him. No one ever spoke about it. He also has ulcers. I’ve seen dry heave so many times I’ve lost count. It’s always when he’s anxious. I’ve seen him swallow his own vomit because he refuses to show weakness in front of anyone.

I love animals and have only ever had one friend. I would dry heave every single day before school. Going to the mall or a crowded place was torture for me. I tried to hide behind my hair and always looked at the ground as I walked. I thought I would be laughed at or ridiculed. I was anyway because of my weight. This didn’t help so I stayed in my room a lot. At 16/17 I found that alcohol helped took away the butterflies in my stomach and I could talk to people. I went to concerts, met bands, hung out with a large group of people, got into fights, got arrested, laughed, cried, tried to commit suicide several times, was promiscuous, and ruined relationships with my family.

Alcohol took me on some great adventures but it also came close to killing me. I didn’t know I was Bipolar or that I had Social Anxiety Disorder (Phobia) I knew something was wrong but no one ever diagnosed me so I kept drinking.

My family has many alcoholics in it including my Mom and Dad. It also has Mental Illness that you can’t discount. It isn’t coincidence that my Mom, her Mother and 3 of her siblings have/had severe mental illnesses.

My parents loved me and did everything they could to make sure I was happy. Yes they saw signs early on that something wasn’t right but they were scared I would be taken away. It was the late 70’s early 80’s and not enough was known then. I don’t blame either one of them. If anything I’m alive right now because of them.68832fe107dfe5b52a7fff8651d19655


GRIEF FOR A PARENT: When There’s So Much Love And Pain

My Mom was the one who held everyone together. Not just my Dad, my brother, my twin sister, and me, but also all of her siblings, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren. She made sure everyone kept in touch or visited one another.

When she died it collapsed like a house of cards. It was like my Dad and I didn’t exist anymore. The phone only rang with telemarketers and there were no visits.

My Mom was outgoing, talkative, loud, bossy, and you did what she told you to do. She also had periods where there was no laughing, no talking, and she stayed in bed for a week or so. She could be quick tempered also. Her capacity to love and forgive almost made up for those times. Almost.

It isn’t easy as a child to wake up and find your Mom gone. Your Dad doesn’t really know how to explain where she is except “She’s sick and she’ll be home soon.” The first two times I was scared and I wanted my Mom. When you’re that young and you know nothing about Mental Illness and no one else really does either it’s horrible.

My Dad had to work so my sister and I would have to stay at my Grandmother’s house. My Dad’s mother. She wasn’t a warm, affectionate woman which explains a lot about my Dad. I was at her house the first time I got my period. I had no idea what was going on. My Mom was in a Hospital, I was at a mean woman’s house, and I was bleeding to death. It kind of left some damage over the years. It’s a good thing my Dad is the man he is and I finally told him what was going on and he took care of me like a pro.

But in my head I thought my Mom should’ve been there. I loved her more than anything in this World. If I knew 100% what happens when we die, if we do go somewhere beautiful and see our loved ones again, I would go right now.

Her death was so bad I still have nightmares sometimes. The year before her death was tough on my Dad and me. There were times when I had to get up early for work but couldn’t sleep because I could hear her moaning. For a long time my Mom went to Doctors who never found anything wrong with her. It was like the boy who cried wolf. When years later the Doctors told her she had Lung Cancer I don’t think any of us reacted the way we were supposed to. Our sympathy had been used for years and years. It was hard living with someone who would scream your name from their bedroom like they were dying making you run upstairs to their room only to have them say “Can you change the channel on my TV?” There was something wrong with that.

In my head I would tell her to shut up. I have to live with that. What we didn’t know was that all the chemo and radiation had weakened her bones so much she had fractured 2 bones in her back. That’s why she was in so much pain.

The Doctors she had made everything worse for us. They had no clue what they were doing. We did get 7 more years with her but it came at a price.

My memory of her was changed forever.

I no longer see the smiling beautiful woman that was my Mom when I close my eyes.

I see the nightmare version I walked in to at the Hospital.

It kills me to remember her like that. I’ve only been to her grave once. I refuse to go. The rest of my family has made comments about this. I don’t care. I can’t do it. I won’t do it. No one is going to bully me anymore or make me feel guilty about things that were out of my control. I do that to myself enough.11059761_10207494279902008_1407885758767048615_n


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