Back to the Beginning Part 2 and letting go

Back to the beginning part 2 and letting go....

This goes back to the previous blog about my childhood.   Today I am ready finally to forgive and move forward I think.   Starting to think about this stuff I have become a little emotional and my co-worker just said are you getting ready to blog because you are jittery.   I don't want my past to become my future and I can't get to the future without dealing with the past so here it goes, jumping into the deep end of the pool hoping I can swim.

My sophomore year was probably one of the toughest years of my life.   Even in retrospect of where I am today and everything I have been thru.   Volleyball season that year went well.   I was on the varsity team and even managed to play well enough to earn a couple of all tournament teams.   Volleyball for me was just something to do until baskleavetball started.   The summer prior to my sophomore year I began attendndarieseed toing basketball camps and practicing everyday in my parents driveway.   I loved to play anywhere at anytime with anybody.   This particular season there were high expectations for us and for me.   We had probably 3 gals who could score 20 plus points a night.   We played well together on the court but not off the court.  I felt really alone.   My own class didn't want to hang out with me because we really had nothing in common and the seniors that year were not about to take me under their wing.  Essentially it was every gal for herself.   It was amazing we played as well as we did.   This was the first time I had a coach get on me about my weight.   He was all about the number on the scale and wanted me to be 10-15 pounds lighter.   So between volleyball and basketball  I began to starve myself for lunch and then after supper I would go into my parents basement in full sweats with hood up and run, jump rope, step ups whatever I could do to sweat and purge what I had eaten thru exercise.   For some reason my parents refused to see or didn't want to see.   I was withdrawing further and further into my self.  As soon as basketball started I made a deal with myself to stop starving myself.   I started eating again but depression had sunk it's teeth into me and I had no idea.   I went to my coach to talk to him about how to relate and talk to the seniors on the team but he didn't want to deal with it.   The team was winning.   I spoke to my parents and they offered to get me a cat if I would just quit complaining, shut my mouth and just play.   Oh yeah and keep getting straight A's, go to church youth group and be a model citizen in everything I did.   I was starting to attract attention from college coaches and letters started coming and a few phone calls.   I was barely handling the pressure I was under without adding recruting to the measure.   I was cracking quickly with no sense of suppport from anyone.  I had a trusted adult who worked at one of the other schools in the district and although I don't remember how I even contacted her or how she knew I needed help.   I would call her collect in the middle of the night and just talk.   I didn't want my parents to find out I was using the phone because I was afraid they would prevent me from talking to her.  I can still see it in my mind as I sit at my desk here at work---I am back in my bed at my parents house, it is the middle of the night, I am awake.  The thought in my head is to get up walk to the closet in the hallway, open the door get the tylenol bottle on the top shelf and end it all.   I have no idea why I never got out of the bed.   Never made it to the hallwayand never to the closet for the tylenol.  This is getting pretty emotional for me right now.   My heart is racing.   I am thinking can I just put this in denial in my brain but I know I can't now if I want to get better.   I thank and praise God for being there and providing me with MW who never failed to answer a collect call from some kid in the middle of the night.   I never got to say thank you too her.   Thank you MW,   thru you God saved my life.(the impact of what I have written is tremendous on my heart and I am holding back tears)    

The rest of the season went well for the team.  We made it pretty far in the tournament.   After we lost I let loose in the locker room with tears, uncontrollably.   I could no longer keep it in.   I managed to get composed before heading out of the locker room and my parents never asked what was up.   Well that year I was named to the All State team.   I went to a bunch of basketball camps in the summer.   I went to the weight lifting program at the high school withthe football team(there was no organized girls weight lifting.)   I shot baskets, did ball handling drills and condition almost everyday.   You see I still loved the game.   My junior year was okay.   The team was not as good and I was expected to carry more of the  load.  More recruiting letters and calls.   At that point I was so focused on my goals of being a college Division  I athlete that I didn't need anyone besides what was the point, no one was really there anyway.    My parent's expectations of perfection for me hadn't changed I supposed I just became numb to it and it didn't seem to bother me as much as the previous year.   Well this team didn't go nearly far enough in the tournament and I was blamed for the loss from my coach in the lockerroom after the game.   I guess he thought I took a game off when I have never taken so much as a practice off giving less then 100%.   That was heart breaking to me but it also fueled this superiority complex I was beginning to have.   You see I thought I was special because people wanted me to come to their school, I was doing interviews in the paper and radio, and I was extremely well known in the town.   I used that I suppose to fill the emotional void. I bought into the system of peoples worth being dependent on what they do well.   I am special because I am a good basketballl player.   That all came crumbling down my senior year.   I had a significant knee injury that ended my season right after Christmas.    Surgery was necessary.    My parents wanted me to play a few more games so I could break the boys scoring record.  I already had the girls record and was 17 points away from the boys.   When I hurt me knee it was so painful that I felt like my lower leg was shot by a cannon.    There was no way I wanted to feel that again so I said no way I am going to have surgery.  I didn't really care about the boys record anyway I just wanted to have my knee fixed and get started on my rehab.    You can imagine that having my identity wrapped up into a game that I could no longer play sent me into a deep depression.  I was no longer "special".   God again brought someone into my life to help me.   My PT was a Christian and without knowing it she helped me keep my head above water while I was rehabbing my knee. Basketball had become such a business that I no longer had any desire to play.   The recruiting and home visits and campus visits, my mom recording every point I scored in a notebook and rehashing every play of the game and free throws missed.   That was the last game I ever played competitively for a team.   I had enough.   I informed my parents about my decision to not play in college about 3 week before I was set to leave for college.  Their reaction was classic and I think I have blogged about previously.   They decided not to pay for any of my college because I was making the biggest mistake of my life.   Once again left alone and on my own.   

It is time I forgive them.   I have serious doubts that we will ever reconcile to a relationship that I desire.  But I need to forgive them to move on and with proper boundaries continue to have a relationship.   So mom I forgive you for not giving me the emotional bonding that I needed and for demanding perfection when it was something I could never measure up too. I forgive you for turning me against a game I loved and I forgive you for never being the mom who could be there for me when I needed you the most.   I am sorry you will probably never get to know the real me.

Dad,   I forgive you for your management of our family with your anger and being scared of you.   I forgive you for being a work a holic and not having enough emotionally left for your family at the end of the day.   I forgive you for not being there for me emotionally when I needed you the most.  I am truly sorry that you may never see the real me but I still hope in you Dad.  Your little girl still needs you to fill the emotional hole that has been created.

Explaining Depression

My husband and I had a discussion last night about depression and what it means and how it feels.   I get the general understanding from him that he doesn't really understand the depths that this disease will take you.   I had a difficult weekend and I had mentioned to my husband that I was feeling so anxious and depressed that I was thinking about the hospital.   Last night he mentioned that why would I ever want to go back to the hospital there are so many restrictions there and it is like jail in his mind.   After I talked to him about this on saturday I no longer had a desire to go to the hospital it was more about letting my feelings out and knowing that he was supporting me.   Sharing instead of stuffing and falling deeper into the pit.   I don't see going back to the hospital as a negative.   It is not something I would like to do or experience again but in the back of my mind it is nice to have a safe place when the world around me feels like it is collapsing.   A safety net so to say.   You hope you never have to use it but happy that it is there.   The hospital offers me a safe place when I no longer feel that I am in a place in my life where I trust myself.   Where there is no hope or worth in my soul.  I have been doing amazing in my recovery process.   I am still in counseling, taking my meds, giving myself a break well sometimes, and learning to deal with emotions.   My husband wants the hospital never to be an option and he wants me to deal with things in an appropriate fashion and continue moving forward.   I spend my day at work analyzing issues, making decisions very quickly with little emotional investment on my part.   I used to be that way in my personal life too.   And my relationships were very shallow.   Nothing penetrated my heart, well nothing until my sweet boy was born.    I was super woman.   I could manage a million things in a day and still have energy to workout like crazy.  But I don't want to live in a shallow world I want to connect with my sons, husbands, and close friends in a meaningful way.   I want my boys to have a healthy way of living.   Am I proficient at dealing with my emotions not even close but making progres yes.  Okay so I suppose I should address the purpose of the blog because it has become something else entirely.

My explanation of depression at least for me was being in a pit so deep and dark with no way out.  No stairway no rope no light and no peace from God.   You are simply a shell with no 

emotions maybe close to a robot.   The basic neccessities of life like eating and drinking seem to be just a way to prolong the pain.  The ones you love suffer because you have no love to give.   There wasn't a thought in my mind about the impact on my son.  You just fad further and further away.  Pretty soon in your mind you aren't worth the air you consume to breath.   Your depression box closes ever tighter around you and you just want to die.   If you have never felt this I have no metaphor or example to relate this too to help you understand.   I am thankful to God for putting all the things in place to get me the help I needed and still need.  I also pray for continued health and for understanding and healing and bonding with and support with my friends and family. 

what a long week

It has been a tremendously difficult last week or so in my life.   My husband and I had the argument that we have been avoiding since the beginning of our marriage the church issue.   See I was raised in a particular denomination, and while I do not think that you have to be in this denomination to be saved, this is what I have gravitated towards.  My husband on the other hand prefers a different kind of worship.   I have planted roots in this church with a budding support system, something I have never done before or had before.  I am learning and growing in my relationship with Christ.   Something I wish we could all find at the same church.   Very hurtful words were exchanged between the two of us which I think was more traumatic then the thought of moving churches.   I felt that my husband was no longer supportive of me and that my support system at church was being removed also.   With every negative word spoken I felt a nail going into the roof of my box of depression.   Further sinking me deeper and deeper.   There was some feelings of hopelessness and no where to turn.   I was even kind of mad at God because I was thinking why are we fighting about this God.   Where are you in all this?   I must admit I havent been praying much this week or reading my Bible because I was kind of feeling what like what is the point.   I have made a concerted effort to try but it seems there are some layers in the way.   My son and I went to church on Sunday.  It was hard for me, I felt like an outsider.  There was more of a this is temporary feeling.  Don't invest too much but that is actually hurting my relationship with God.  I went to Bible Study monday and I was in a room with 8 other women and felt so alone.  I was however able to focus on the Word and get deeper with God.   A wonderful part of my support system was there and it was nice to chat with them after.   They are amazing Christian Women who have been so supportive.   This week continues to be difficult.  My husband read my blog and isn't too happy about it and would prefer that I stop blogging.  I understands and respect his desire not to have our business aired in a public forum such as the internet.   I am not sure how I should proceed with that.  I kind of feel like I am being isolated from my support and now one of my outlets in the internet.   My ex husband was a very jealous man and he isolated me from everything.   Maybe this feels familar with my current husband but really isnt.  I supposed time will tell.   I feel like we probably don't trust each other as much as we should.  He is left wondering what I am actually writing and I am left wondering if he is trying to isolate and control me.   Sounds like a wonderful spot for our marriage to be in.   I have counseling tomorrow and maybe we need to go back togther.   I amnot sure what the best thing to do would be.  Last night I felt alone in my house.  Everyone was asleep and there I sat.   I am trying to do what is in the best interest of everyone and be respectful of their wishes but I also need to be healthy.   Wouldn't that be great if it was all the same thing.  I want to sleep again for the whole night.   I was able to take down some layers with God this morning and I prayed I mean seriously had a conversation with Him.   I have some peace now but I know the struggles continue.

One foot in front of the other and repeating the process

So I promised myself I would write a positive blog at some point.   I don't walk around being miserable every moment of the day.   I try to be upbeat and I love spending time with Patrick and thinking about being his mom makes me smile.   He is my wonderful sweet boy.  Progress has been made with my husband and Patrick and their relationship.   He is starting to embrace and except the fatherhood role with him.   There have been absolute moments of wonderfulness between the two of them.   That makes me smile, even right now I am smiling as I think about the two of them together.  
There is pain today in my heart.   I feel like my emotions have been placed in a blender on high speed.   I am confused, hurting, and numb but raw at the same time.   The topic has been lingering over our heads.   Yesterday was not the first time Church had become an issue.  It was so difficult yesterday that my husband got up and left .   I understand his points but at that moment I felt like I had been emotionally punched in the gut.   I felt lightheaded and I thought I was going to faint.   I almost asked the family in front of us to watch Patrick for a moment so I could get some air but somehow I made it thru church.   My husband and I have had vastly different situations at the same church.   I have enjoyed getting to know the ladies at church.   I have gone out on a limb with my story for the first time in my life and I have been received with suppport, compassion,  and understanding.   This is the first time I have been this plugged into a church and I have been enjoying the fellowship and prayer.   My husband has had the opposite reaction at church.   I think Sunday was the last straw.   I don't believe he will ever come to church again at that church.   I am heartbroken because I enjoy this church, the support, and the message.   I have grown spiritually, especially in my prayer life. Patrick has fit in well there.   I always envisioned worshipping on sunday morning in church together.   I am not sure what to do next.   According to scriptures the father is the head of the household so I feel that I should follow my husband.   Is this a sign of end times because husband is pitted against wife.   I am not sure there is a compromise here.   Or at least I can't see it because I am clouded with emotions.   I haven't really wanted to pray or trust in God because in my mind I am blaming God or at least angry with Him.   Why do we have to  argue about church.   Seriously this should be a non-issue I would think.    If we went somewhere else I am not sure I would put forth the effort to engage with the other women.   I feel like I probably would just be withdrawn.    One of the recurring themes in my life is that I trust people and expect them to be there and when they are not I just give up trying.   I go back to my mantra of work harder and you can get through anything.  You don't need help.   I am sure I still would have the friends there but it isn't the same when you don't attend the functions of the church.   It is easier just to give up at this point.   Why fight the pain.  Just give in and move forward right.   Trusting God to work it all out.  Today I am just so bitter and hurt.   That I can't think clearly.   I wish denial would soon come because my emotions are on a very high level and I want them to stop.  

Embracing Anger

So I was given some homework in counseling and it was to explore the emotion anger in my life.    I really don't get angry I mean what is the point?  Seems kind of like a waste of energy.   I probably get mad but never escalates to the point of anger I would say.   My dad and brother used to get ANGRY and had tempers.   I never really wanted to be that person.   Being almost out of control.   I always wanted to be in control of my emotions.   In my first marriage I suppose I got mad a few times and tried to talk about it but the penality was also the silent treatment from my first husband.   The was really no purpose to express anger because there 

was no resolution of the issue.  It was the appropriate time frame of punishment for me carried out with the silence treatment and then everything was fine like nothing happened.   So I suppose I just buried it deep inside and never let myself express anger and then pretty soon just didn't feel anger.    Today I feel angry.   I have been thru HELL in the last few years. Divorce, single mom, then married with 3 step sons all living in the same house.  I have never wanted to blame my current husband for the mess he brought into my house.   But after this weekend I know I need to embrace my anger, admit to it, and let it resolve.   He didn't now the depth of the craziness he brought into the house but it still happened and there was no control.   I found out about some other things that had happened in our house with the boys.   I am beyond angry at a lot of people.   I am mad about how I found out.  How it was handled or not handled.   What exactly happened or didn't happen or will those involved actually confess to it.   The trust is gone and disgust left in its place.   I know my husband did not know about any of this either and was just as caught off guard but I need to hold him responsible for the part he played in bring this in my life.  I can no longer give him a pass.   I will never be able to completely respect him and ensure our relationship moves forward in health.   I can't keep this bottled up or someday it will manifest in a way over reaction.   Today at work I said I wanted to go running thru woods screaming.   I felt like running would kill the emotion and screaming just sounded fun and therapeutic.   I don't know what to do with the recent information I hae been provided with as far as dealing with it.   I am confused my brain is on overload and I am seeing red.   Tonight I plan on talking with my husband sharing my feelings the anger and talk thru this.   I pray that he is receptive and not defensive and healing at our house can continue.    I guess I have been angry, I don't need to be afraid of this and that I have to deal with it.   Well I am off to go screaming and running thru the woods.   Just kidding too cold here and the health club bans screaming on the treadmills. 

Saturday I cried(well at least on the inside)

Today I am feeling a little unsettled and anxious.  Saturday I had a counseling session and a lot of things came out.   I lost my best friend to Leukemia and my great grandma(Nanny) died in about a year when I was 11 maybe 12.   I never grieved the loss.   I never had the support from my parents to ask how I was doing.   No grief counseling and for sure no tears.  I didn't go to my friends funeral or visitation.   I remember having the stomach flu.   I never said goodbye.   Never got to make my peace.   In all reality I don't think I went because I had no idea how to handle the situation.    She had been sick for awhile and so I suppose as a mechanism of handling the situation I blocked her out on my mind.  She had been out of school and couldn't have friends over because of her being immunocompromised.   I guess in a cruel way I was doing what I had been taught.   Put a wall up and not just any wall, the strongest biggest emotional wall possible.   I was cold on the exterior but probably conflicted on the inside.  I suppose I would have loved a tender moment where my parents hugged me, said "I Love You", and offered an opportunity to speak my feelings.   That didn't happened as has never happened.   The thought of that makes me feel anxious and uncomfortable.  The wall goes back up and my mind says I am tough I don't need anyone.  Don't show weakness not to them.   They don't get the opportunity to hurt me again.  To many times I let the wall down, to many time I trusted them with my emotions and my emotional health and they killed it which almost killed me.   I suppose there is a small amount of anger there..   I have tried to talk to them in the past but what has been the point did I get the moment that I wanted no.   I suppose there is too much pent up anger now or fear for me to even try again.   My relationship with my parents is all I think if will ever be.   I forget the hurt of the past.   When I went to college I chose not to play basketball because I was scared to return after ACL reconstruction.  ACL reconstruction was not so common then and I wanted to walk and be active at 30 so I decided to stop playing.   I remember very clearly standing in my parents room and telling them my decision.   I also remember the anger from my dad and him saying I was making the biggest mistake of my life and my mom was crying.  They both had regrets in their life blah blah blah.   I stopped listening until my dad said---well we have no money for college for you.   You always told us you were going to get a scholarship so you are on your own.   We won't pay for this decision.   I think this was about a month before school started.   Thank goodness I had applied myself in high school and had won a lot scholarships.   I would be able to make it.   I got a job working food service in the dorm washing dishes to help.  There are numerous times when this has occurred when I stepped out of the mold their dream and I was penilized.   Even as I  write this I try to qwell my anger.   Not sure why.   My counselor has said I need to explore anger as an emotion in my life.   I always thought it was a waste of time and never changed any situation for the good at least in my world.   I am not sure how I define my relationship with my parents.   I don't harbor anger against them at least not consciously.   I appreciate the fact that they help me out with my son.  Maybe I have resolved to never need them emotionally again and that is why I am not angry.   I know I want to be a different kind of parent.   I know that I will tell my son multiple times a day I love him and hug him. I also want him to grow up with a complete set of tools in his toolbox.   Writting this blog went a hole different direction then expected.   I feel hurt, I have a headache and yes my counselor I probably feel angry.

Back to the Beginning

I was reading a book last night entitled Changes that Heal by Dr. Henry Cloud. He brought up the fact that we often emotionally or spiritually get stuck in a point in life and can't get past it unless you go back and heal from it before totally moving your life forward.  Like you missed some vital skill you need and you have to travel back in time to pick up that skill. I thought about this last night while laying in bed and I wondered about my past. I also remember my Psychiatrist asking me how long have you been depressed and I was surprised when the words "my whole life" popped out.
I have heard that I was an anxious preschooler.  I guess I cried and never wanted to go but settled down quickly when I went there.;I don't really remember having any anxiety or being shy as a child.  I do remember times where pressure was placed on me at a very young age. My older brother is very intelligent and started reading thru the encyclopedias at age 7. I had my first grade gym teacher tell me that I would be a basketball star for the high school some day. The deadly combination of brains and athletisem. I also grew up in a family where emotions were not emphasised, encouraged or even discussed how to handle. It was almost like the don't ask don't tell policy of the military. I had a best friend and great grandma die when I was in middle school and I never cried. I didn't feel like I was supposed to cry.  I was tough. I grew up in the country with two brothers. I liked being outside, much of a tomboy. I also grew up seeing my older brother cry when my dad yelled at him and I was way too stubborn to allow my Dad's yelling to get to me. I had a competitive, killer instinct with no emotion at a very young age.  I felt like toughness was rewarded. To show emotion was weak and nobody knew what to do with it anyway. My older brother was always jealou of me because he thought I got more attention as we grew up. I remember he asked me to fold towels and I said in a minute. He put his forearm in my throat and put me up against the wall. He asked if I was too good to do chores. Well when I was freshman he was a senior in a high school of 500 kids. You can imagine we ran into each other a lot. He never recognized me as his sister. He never said hi.  To make matters worse I was promoted to varsity volleyball, basketball and softball. So now we travelled in the same circles kind of. I was pulling straight A's because there weren't any other options. I was involved in youth group at church and a perfect child at least on the exterior.  I enjoyed playing basketball the most and dreamed of playing in the Olympics, even though my parents dimissed that as a crazy idea and that I would never be good enough. I practiced basketball everyday.  Shooting, Shooting, shooting.  Dribble, Dribble, Dribble. My freshman year the varisty basketball team made it to regional finals against our biggest rivals.  The gym was packed and very loud.  I wasn't a starter because of an early season knee strain.  I am not sure what point of the game but one of the seniors got hurt and the coach put me in. I went on to help the team win the game. It was insane, crazy, fun all at the same time. I had made quite an impact in the game and so I had a couple of newspaper interviews after the game.  For a freshman I was riding quite a wave of excitement. Region champs was a big deal and I was happy to get to sectionals. The next time we had practice there were a couple of seniors not too happy a freshman "out shone" them. It was very physical under the basket and received a lot of elbows and hard fouls that I shouldn't have.  Coach didn't say anything nor did any other players. I took my "beating" and moved on. The next game we lost. I don't even remember how I played. I played varisty softball without much trouble.  My brother graduated 3rd in his class and was heading off to college. I was lost really with no class and friends to call my own.  I didn't mesh with my own class because I spent most of the time with the upperclass and they didn't want to hang out with me because they where going to college.  I guess I felt I didn't need support because everywhere I turned I didn't get support. My parents were happy that their kids were smart and athletic and "famous" in our small town. I had a goal of being a Division I college basketball player and for that I didn't need anybody I just needed to work harder.