I’m not really sure where to start. It’s almost 10pm here and I know it’s going to be another long night. I finally talked to my doctor a few months ago about my depression and she started me on Wellbutrin. It was doing really well at first. I had energy for an entire day. I cleaned my garage which I hadn’t done in a year. Then I crashed. It still got rid of the thoughts that I was having that initially made me decide I needed to talk to my doctor, though, so I waited two weeks then upped the dose to two a day like she told me to, hoping the energy would come back again. It didn’t. At some point I started taking both in the morning because even taking it one in the am and one in the pm, I was still struggling with the crying and the not getting off the couch. Two in the morning helped me get through until about 6 or 7 and then I could just crash and eventually fall asleep. At some point, recently, I somehow ended up forgetting and swapping to taking them at night when I remember. I’ve always been so bad at remembering.. and the last few nights have been so hard. I’m counting the days to my next appointment. 3. I’m so close. I just need to purge what’s inside right now though and I hope this is an ok place to do that. I don’t feel comfortable telling anyone I know EVERYTHING. I feel like what little I’ve shared is too much. I’m annoying them. I’m constantly complaining. I can’t pull myself together and just be happy for once. It’s all in my head. They’ve never said any of that, but it’s how I feel they are feeling. I’ve tried but I just can’t. And I just don’t have time with my work schedule to see a professional and I’ve never felt comfortable the few times I’ve been to one. Sitting here, typing this anonymously, getting it all out at once, feels safe though, so thank you.
I’m so tired of everything. There are so many people who have had far worse lives than I have. I am truly blessed. I have three beautiful and brilliant children. A home. A dependable vehicle. My dream job. A support system of family around me made up of 5 generations that I see on almost a daily basis. I live across the street from my grandparents, one block from my parents, four blocks from my great grandma but I see her at work every day because I coordinate activities for the local Senior Center. I live in a small town in bush Alaska. It’s a close knit community. My doctor is someone my mom has seen since she was 14. My Church is amazing. Even my dog is always happy.
I don’t understand why I can’t just be happy and productive. I feel worthless and useless. I feel like crying almost all the time. I feel worn down. I feel like I just want to go to sleep.
I want to preface all of this by saying my Mom is my best friend. She is amazing and I adore her and she is always there for me and supportive. Any mistakes she may have made in her past, I don’t hold against her.
I’ve had my problems. I’ve been raped 7 times between the ages of 5 and 21 and those are just what I remember. The first was my Mom’s ex husband and I don’t remember much before I was 5, and no one else knew about it for 23 years. I didn’t tell ANYONE until last year. Well, except his brother. When I was 14 he and his brother found out where I worked and they’d call me there constantly telling me they had been looking for me, just wanted to talk and my mom was keeping me from him and lying to me about him. I told his brother that my Mom never said a word about him one way or another, that the house number hadn’t changed since he called it last, and by the way your brother did THIS to me and I’M the one saying no to his calls and to never contact me again. Haven’t heard from them since although it took his Mom another 5 years or so to stop sending holiday and birthday cards. He wasn’t even my real dad anyway. My bio dad was a high school fling my Mom had. I never met him.
I don’t want to go into details of the middle ones... there were a lot. I was too trusting and foolish. By the time I got into college I was using promiscuity and alcohol to take control of my life again. I was in control of who I slept with and what I did. It felt good for a while. Then I got into a relationship with a very abusive man who I finally got the guts to break up with and after, he.... well he basically forced me to get pregnant. That was the last time. That first ultrasound that confirmed my pregnancy was all I needed. I refused to let my baby be around that life. I moved back home and in with my parents.
A few other things happened before that though. My Mom remarried when I was 7. She’s still married to him and he is my hero and I love him dearly and call him my Dad.
Around the time I was 14, shortly before another rape, my Dad woke me up at 5am, telling me to get my ass in the car. I didn’t realize what time it was and figured I was just late for school. I told him I needed to shower first. He stood in my doorway, looked me dead in the eye and said “Your Grandma is missing and they can’t find your uncle. The cops said he may come after us next and we need to leave town now.” And didn’t say another word to me or my brothers until we were well over 100 miles away. We spent the night in a crummy hotel in the middle of nowhere and went home the next morning. I don’t remember much right after that other than feeling guilty for missing school and insisting on smiling and going to work and being “happy”. My uncle is schizophrenic, apparently. I don’t really understand the timeline because the court documents say he had strangled my grandma then walked into town for a cheeseburger before going to his friend’s house and partying. But I remember the clock saying 5:12am when we left town. It’s always confused me. Anyway, I held it together most of the time. Someone had to. Everyone else was a mess. I did break down in school a year later, in Biology though. We had a substitute. She had been left a film on autopsy to show. I lost it. Sobbed in front of everyone and she took me down to the office to sit while mumbling “I knew something like this was going to happen”
I’ve had an obsession with crime shows since then. Not scary ones, but things like Murder, She Wrote or CSI. I can’t do SVU though. That one gives me anxiety.
Anyway, after I went to college and after a few more rapes (I hate saying it that way. I just... don’t FEEL anymore. They are almost normal for me at this point and I’ve just accepted them like one accepts a bad steak at a restaurant you know is mediocre. Just empty acceptance and no feeling) I put on a lot of weight. It took me a while to really understand that it was emotional weight. If I was fat then no one would hurt me. I was wrong though. Anyway, that brings us to my sweet little boy. He saved me. I moved back in with my folks, had him, he was perfect and VERY loved. I was always afraid something would happen to him though. Constant anxiety about everything. I almost lost him when he got his 4 month old shots and they almost killed him. Moved out of my parent’s house and into an apartment with him. I had 5 jobs that summer, all at the same time. Only 1 full time and the rest were part time/weekend/evening/on my own schedule things. Ended up managing a local restaurant that winter and met my ex husband. He was tall and muscular and acted like a provider and protector. I jumped on that, ready to feel safe. 5 year marriage short, I finally kicked him out two years ago after he blew the workman’s comp check he’d received from breaking his leg ($27,000 straight to video games) and when I caught him cheating on me AGAIN with the same woman I caught him with two weeks after we got married. We had two little girls by then, though. Our marriage had been over a long time though. He never spent time with the rest of us. 3 years he spent locked in his own bedroom because he refused to share with me, so I slept in the kids’ room. I’d see him when I took him food or went in to clean his room. So him moving out didn’t ever really affect the kids too much. They noticed, but only because I’d make them go to his place to visit and that was NOT at our house. They didn’t want to see him. He didn’t ever want to see them. I forced the relationship between them all because he’s their Dad. He looked the judge in the face during our 10 minutes at court and told him he didn’t want them. He gave me everything. Physical, legal, support, the house, even his precious Star Wars movies. Just so he’d only have to see them for two hours a week. Which he “forgets” most of the time anyway. I’ve stopped forcing it. I used to text him and try to push it but now, I don’t even bother. There’s no reason to get everyone upset. His parents still ask for time on birthdays and holidays but only for long enough that they can take a few pictures to post on Facebook with #blessed and #grandkidsarethebest... then they send them right back home, hours before we had scheduled. I hate sending them but I don’t know what else to do. So I’ll continue to send them... until they are old enough to say no.
Tonight, I’m just tired. I’ve been trying to get this weight off. Trying to keep us afloat financially because my job doesn’t pay all the bills but my ex is really behind on support so I have to find ways to make miracles happen every month and pray the heating fuel lasts until my next paycheck. I’ve put in for other jobs even though I LOVE my current job and it offers a lot of flexibility. I work for 3 other women who have all been single mothers. If the kids are sick, or if we are going on a trip because I homeschool the kids (doctor’s orders because my son has severe anxiety at public school and we may as well do everyone the same way), I can take all the time I need off without losing pay. It’s been a blessing.
All I wanted out of life was to fall in love, have a family and raise my kids with a partner who wanted to be with us and loves us. I wanted to be the mom who’s home all day with the kids teaching and loving them, who can keep up on the housework, have dinner on the table when my hard working husband comes home, who can pack up the car Friday while he’s at work for a surprise camping trip, or leave the kids with grandma and grandpa so he and I can go hunting or fishing to fill the freezer and enjoy each others company. I wanted to be loved. I wanted someone who knew my past. All of it. Who could still love me in spite of it. Who could hold me at night when the nightmares won’t stop. Tell me I’m safe. Tell me our family is safe.
I am blessed. I have had an easier life than many many many people. Most, even. Why can’t I just be happy with what I have and let go of everything else? Why can’t I keep the laundry done? Or the dishes, or the lawn mowed? I’m just tired. I’m always tired.
New to this, but here’s my story
Not sure how to approach it
About to lose it!
WHY IS IT ALWAYS MY FAULT?!
Dread…is it just me and my insecurities or something is up?
