What I have to say may shock some of you, and others may nod their head in empathy. As you take the time to read my first blog post, please keep in mind that I am now a woman who is almost 42 years of age and am on the road to healing. While some of the facts and feelings I have had in the past may shock you, please remember that I do not feel the same way now. I have grown exponentially as a person, as a mother and as a wife. Part of my healing process is to express my hurt from the past so I can move on and grow.
The first time I can remember wanting to kill myself I was about 7 or 8 years old. It was either in Grade 2 or Grade 3 and I felt there was no way out of my life except to end it myself. I faced pain, rejection and hate every day of my life and could not find the love I needed in order to press onward. While many others may not think my life was really that difficult, for a small child battling demons every day, it was. I still to this day do not know for sure if I have depression and anxiety tendencies or if that's the result of what I was subjected to day in and day out.
Without getting into much detail and pointing fingers, because that is not what my healing process is about, I can divulge some background. My childhood was abusive. When I looked for love and acceptance, I only found rejection, shame and hurt most days. Granted, there were a few glimpses of childhood fun where I enjoyed family holidays, playing sports and the like. But my childhood memories are riddled with feelings of self-loathing, depression and the constant fear to run away and hide. I have several old photographs of me as a child with black eyes and a forlorn look on my face.
I grew up with a Catholic background. While my parents did not take me to church regularly, I went to a Catholic school and attended services with my Grandparents, who I hold dearly to my heart. The only thing that stopped me from taking my life at such a young age I believe was the Catholic religion's outlook on how they viewed suicide. I did not want to spend my eternity in Hell. So I rather lived it on earth each day.
As I grew older, I started to find my voice. At the age of 15/16 my parents cast me out on my own, professing that I was too much to handle. Before this point, I wasn't partaking in the regular teenage pastimes of smoking, drugs & alcohol. I would sneak out of my room a few times to hang out with friends. I had a part-time job, I bought all my own clothes and things I wanted. I still don't think I was really that bad.
After I was removed from the family home, I had no place to go. I lived in my car, on the streets for quite some time. This is when my life spiraled downhill. I then started smoking, drinking and doing drugs. I didn't care anymore. And I didn't have to worry about going home to parents drunk or high so that was no longer an issue. I decided since I couldn't kill myself due to religious beliefs I would do everything possible to cause my death as a result. Between the ages of 16-18 I got alcohol poisoning 3 times and overdosed on drugs twice. Once I do remember my drug dealer finding me in such a state he was scared I was going to die and wanted to take me to the hospital. I look back now and shudder thinking how messed up I must have been to have my drug dealer want to get me help.
I made one last ditch effort to move back in with my parents and try to finish school. I wanted to get clean, get my high school diploma, do something with my life. I was refused. In an act of defiance I looked for a job as far away as I could go, packed up my things and moved an entire province away.
Here, I met a man. He was everything I should have stayed away from, but unfortunately with all my ingrained issues, I had no concept of repeating mistakes or mirroring my previous life. I married him at age 19. Subsequently I had 2 children and found myself in a controlling, abusive relationship. I finally broke free at age 25 with 2 small children in tow.
Once again, my life spiraled out of control, but I had 2 little ones to bring me back to reality. So my self-destructive behavior was limited to the weekends when they visited their father. I fought constantly with my ex-husband about every issue at hand and he made sure to make my life a living hell on a daily basis. It took me over 12 years to get a divorce granted to me for a 5-year marriage. 17 years of fighting yet another demon day in and day out.
During my time of self-destruction I met a young man. Little did I know he would become my savoir. My knight in shining armor. He was always there in the background whenever I needed him, but kept himself distant. Unable to commit to me and 2 young children. For this I cannot blame him. I was a mess with a load of baggage in tow. Over the years, he became more to me, but each time I tried to mention a relationship or moving forward, he balked. I would regress.
I've made some bad decisions in my life. I have no one to blame but myself. But out of bad decisions often comes beautiful results. One of these is my 3rd child. He came to me as a surprise, and against so many people telling me to get an abortion and forget about the bad decision I made which put me in this position, I kept my baby and forged ahead. Now I can't imagine life without him.
To make my long story shorter, skipping over some minor details, my knight in shining armor and I had a baby-my 4th child. I moved my brood from the only city they've ever known and took up life in a small town. It has been a difficult process to say the least. The first few years were turbulent and riddled with my anxiety and his lack of commitment. But together we worked through it, slowly but surely. Today we are stronger than ever. And for that I am thankful.
Today, I have 4 wonderful children, 2 of whom are grown adults and make me proud, and a wonderful husband. While I may seem to have a perfect life on the outside, I still face demons every day and deal with my anxieties. My husband supports me more than any one person should have to. For that I am blessed and thankful. I still don't think he comprehends just how much he has helped me through the years and as I continue to heal and grow.
I am in therapy currently. It helps me process my old thoughts and tendencies. It helps me move forward, to get better. I do things each day to help me get better. I run, I do yoga, I try to eat right and don't drink so much alcohol. Each day is different and I will not know how it will be until I am right in the middle. But I do know now that even when I have a bad day, I can go to sleep and start over again tomorrow. And I have the support I need to get through it.