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Inspiration of a Survivor

Inspiration of a survivor

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Today I sit here inspired by 2 people, Amy and Mo as I listen to their first podcast. They address issues on Mental Health and the stigma that comes along. Both are near and dear to me as I have worked along side them for the past 3-4 years in a psychiatric Hospital. In that inspiration, I pulled up my blog that I started and never opened again until today. The 1st blog I ever created was shortly after I had my daughter who is now 5 years old was born. I lost the site and my page and ended up creating this one last year. I just reposted my first blog after I corrected the errors from my original post on Dec 29, 2020. Updating it caused it to show it was posted today. As I read my small post I reflected on where I am today from a year ago and so forth. Last year I started to blog and to document my journey. I am a domestic violence survivor. I never really shared my story except to a bare minimum. I felt so dumb even remotely telling anyone what my home life was like. I didn't have ...
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Awareness

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At the beginning of the month, I planned on writing about October being Domestic Violence Awareness Month. Unfortunately, due to a recent situation I was in, I wasn't able to. Sometimes we meet people in our lives who seem like really good people and they turn out not to be. Being a survivor of domestic violence, this person I had been somewhat friends with stirred a lot of my past traumas. It is funny how a person can be doing so well and have the littlest of things happen to where their entire sense of safety and security can be gone again.  I have had encounters with people in which it was lost but not nearly as much as this last one. We talked about personal things and even my blog post which had led to more questions and further in-depth discussions as they were curious. Sometimes those questions lead to tears and sometimes not so much. I've been pretty upfront and honest whenever anyone reaches out to me about my experiences as I want to be a voice and spread awareness. T...
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Do you think about it?

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 I've had so many questions about sharing my history on my domestic violence. One of them was if I think about it. The answer is yes, every day. In the beginning, I really struggled with the adjustment of going through the divorce process. I shared with many coworkers that I was getting a divorce and if I was crying to just distract me as everything tucked away started surfacing. I had so many experiences that I had pushed down over the years to cope that it became very overwhelming as the flood gates opened. My fight or flight was in overdrive throughout my entire divorce process as we lived together for 11 months.  At the end of October 2020, I closed on my house and that is when my healing process mostly began. I still have flashbacks every day multiple times a day, I've just learned how to cope with them differently now that I no longer live through it daily. He no longer has that control over me. I still have to redirect my negative thinking after it being drilled into me...
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Long road

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Recently at work I noticed I was in the front of everyone trying to calm a difficult patient. It was the day I noticed how much I had actually changed, how much growth and healing I have done. It has been a slow process getting to where I am today but an amazing journey to be on. No wounds heal over night, some require a little extra work than others whether it a skinned knee, a deep cut requiring stitches or our mind. Psychological abuse left me feeling ugly, unlovable, unwanted, hopeless, weak, unable, broken, dark, fat, pathetic, numb, hateful, negative, afraid, lost, fearful, trapped.  My healing has not been an easy journey. Day in and day out I masked what was going on in my home life. I got up, went to work, took care of my family, my home. The thing was, I held my head as high as possible limiting anyone to what was going on in my home life.  I slowly lost the person I was, I was isolated from my family, friends and stopped doing the things I loved. As things began to ...
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Struggling with my weight

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What happens when we develop unrealistic expectations of ourselves? Have you ever looked in the mirror and the first thing you see is all your flaws, all the things you want to change about yourself? Maybe your self doubt started with another persons unrealistic expectation on how you should look. Main stream media taught us that we need super model bodies or better yet, that we need to look like Barbie.  My journey with learning to love myself and the skin I am in has not been an easy journey. From my earlier days, I was teased in school about my weight. The end of 8th grade my stomach rounded out a little and I developed a double chin. My mom told people I was pregnant. I remember weighing 135 lbs. in high school and being so uncomfortable with my weight. I seriously thought I was fat.  So, at 17 I asked my dad to get me these diet pills from Costco, which he did. It was back when there weren't any regulations on  phenylpropanolamine . I remember taking these pills and ...
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A little reflecting

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Today I sat and wrote my first blog I have shared in many years. I used to write all the time and somewhere in the mix and chaos of my life, I stopped. I lost a big part of me over the years and while it takes time to get things back to heal and grow I am slowly rediscovering things about myself.  Its funny that I didn't have any reaction to the words I wrote. I shared minimally in depth but at the same time a great extent of my personal history. Just last week I was talking to a couple friends about my past traumas and more in depth to some. It flared a panic attack and I sat there trembling. It is not a place I chose to live but that doesn't mean that is doesn't creep up on me from time to time. I was so thankful for a certain friend, I mentioned what was going on. He asked how he could help but really, talking and just telling him what was going on helped me.  I may have processed what was needed at one point in my life but that doesn't take it all away or make it be...
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 Dec. 29th 2020 Today I sit here and think of so many things on my mind. Here I am 38, divorced and a mother 2. I have been through hell and back. Climbed so many mountains blindly. Survived so much and never got out of bed with my head hunched, you would never have known anything was ever wrong looking at me. I awoke many days where I held my head high when all I ever wanted was to curl into a ball. So many times of crying in the bathroom only to emerge with a smile, hiding all my hurt. Maybe, if you knew me a little then you might have known some little part of what I was going through. I never felt so stupid staying in this situation so I kept most of it to myself. I may have even listened to your war stories. I can assure you that if you left I envied you, every part of you for being so strong to walk away. I related on so much more than I ever lead. Oh how my heart, how torn I was. Today still I am torn. I made one of the biggest life decisions. God did I spend years pondering...
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