Because Life Happens

Hey! I don't know if any of my had been followers are still following or not. I wouldn't blame you. It's been over a year since my last post. I have an explanation, and then I have excuses and apologies. What can I say? Life happens. A lot has happened. I mean a lot. My last post, I was at the end of my first trimester, and I was SO sick. I had to be hospitalized a couple times, because my morning sickness wasn't morning sickness. It was all day, all night 24/7 sickness. It got so bad that I couldn't even drink water. And then after the doctors finally believed me when I said that everything I was doing wasn't working, they gave me some medication so I could eat. And I was sick the entire 9 months. If I didn't take that pill, I wasn't eating that day. Yeah. So that's a reason that I didn't write for a while. I was hospitalized for a week for a suicide initiation. I didn't really want to die, but I didn't know what else to do. So... that happened. And then in-between working, school, pregnancy, moving, preparing for a baby, and trying to deal with life, the blog became something not so important. And maybe that was a mistake. Maybe I should have kept with the blog. Maybe I should write more and hide less. Remember the end of my last post saying I wasn't going to hide anymore? Yeah... I lied. I did hide, as you can tell. And that was a definite mistake.

But that's life. Life happens, and because life happens, people make mistakes. They make bad and good choices, and live with the consequences of both. When I was in the hospital for my suicidal-ishness, I was, finally, officially diagnosed with moderate to severe depression, post-traumatic stress syndrome, and borderline personality disorder. What does that mean? It means that I am easily scared and jumpy; I get sad easily because of a chemical imbalance in my brain; and I'm done gone crazy. These disorders and not excuses. I can't use these disorders as crutches and excuse any of my behavior. But they explain a lot. They explain a lot about my personality, and why I act the way I do. And while I was in the hospital, I learned some really good things. I learned I should write more. Not necessarily all about my abuse and my past, but let out everything. If you know what free writing is, that's what I need to do more of. (For those of you who don't know what free writing is, free writing is where you are in a quiet place, you have a writing utensil and paper, and you start to write. You start with a word, a phrase, a thought, anything and you just go. You don't stop writing for any reason. You can repeat the same word over and over again until you have something to branch off of that. But you just write for generally twenty minutes but however long you want. It is very helpful and educational. It often brings an insight on what you have on your mind, what you think about a lot, how your brain works, and issues that need to be addressed.) Free writing would help me get what I am thinking out on paper or computer, and that way I can think about what I am feeling, thinking, etc, more clearly with a more logical brain. The psychiatrist that I was working with in the hospital said that writing, especially about all my fears, would help with my PTSD. He also said that building a great support group, people that will be there for you no matter what and that won't judge, criticize, or inhibit my health progression.

And that's where you, readers whoever you are, come in. Can you help me by being a part of my support group? I will try to write more. I will try to be more positive, open, and honest. And will you help me by giving me feedback? Will you let me know when something sounds dumb, or share with me experiences that you have that might be helpful to me and others? Because life happens, and I want to make sure that what happens in my life is for the better, and I want to help others get there.

I guess you can say this is my New Year's resolution

I know it's been a while. I was on a writing spree, and then I choked. To those that were reading my story and listening to my insights, I'm sorry. I got scared. Plain and simple. Knowing that He had the link to my blog and had read what I had written previously and would most likely read more if I wrote more scared me. I froze. I had a lot to say, but I felt trapped. I still kind of do. But I'm going on a limb here. I have decided, so what if He reads it? I am entitled to my emotions, thoughts and opinions. It shouldn't matter that He might be reading what I'm saying...

The thing is though, it does.

Can you blame me?

Because, technically, these are His secrets, His stories, too.

Now, I try to not be one to step on other people's privacy. But I am human. It happens. I can't be perfect.

So is this an invasion of His privacy? He may think it is.

Is this an invasion of my privacy? Knowing He can read what I say, what I think?

We are all only human, after all. Who knows?

But I won't let it hinder me. I can't. If I do, I'll just do what I've always done. I'll hide it and run. Silently. I am tired of running from this. I'm tired of hiding from those I care about. I don't want to anymore.

So. You. Go ahead and read on. I will not hide anymore. I will not run. It's time for me to face my demons. And if that means you read everything I have to say, then fine. I guess it's better that you know. So if you really are trying to become a better person, maybe I can help you see who you were, so you don't become that person ever again. And I can finally free myself from this shadow that shades the most brilliant part of sun from my life.

This is a new year, a new phase in life. And I am determined to come out on top.

To whom it may concern...

So, yesterday, I got contacted by my former friend who's hands caused a lot of my hell. He was emailed my blog and in so doing contacted me yesterday to apologise. This post is for you.

To Whom it May Concern,

I did not intentionally want anyone to find out who these stories stemmed from, or who any of the main characters were except for, obviously, me. So if people put two and two together, I cannot help that. I tried very hard to keep your name a secret. And apparently I failed. I apologise for that.

My goal in writing this blog is not to make everyone I know hate you, or think ill of you. My goal for this blog is to help me get over everthing that happened to me.

You said you don't recall certain things happening. True, the story I posted yesterday was based on a true story. I had to flower it up for my English class. It's English. And I chose that story because it's always on my mind, whether I'm thinking directly or indirectly about it.

But there would be a lot of things you wouldn't remember, because it wasn't you who did them. If you recall, I was locked up in your bedroom with a bunch of your other friends too. Most of the time they were worse than you. And they wouldn't tell you about it. I was your property. It's like painting grafiti on a school. If you tell, you get in trouble. And it doesn't help you weren't sober all the time either.

And, no, it wasn't all that bad, all the time. Like I said before and I'll say again, I had thought of you as my best friend. I cared about you. I still do. If it was all bad, all the time, then the outcome would have been very different.

I don't want to ruin anything for you. I never did. I'm just trying to find ways of coping with what's happened. Because I was affected. I used to get panic attacks if I ever heard someone say your name. Whenever I hear an older truck driving, I want to run away and hide. Some days I can't even kiss my husband without going into a panic attack, because the memories are so raw and terrible.

How could I fake that?

Again, I'm sorry if people put two and two together. I was trying to protect your identity, and I failed, obviously. But think about it, not very many people I know, know you. So how could they hate a person they don't know?

And as for you apology... I'm trying really hard to accept it. But, I have to admit, I'm angry. I'm angry that you were upset with me for saying the things I did. This is a blog. This is where I'm supposed to be free to write whatever I want short of cyber bullying and slander. I'm angry that it took you this long. I'm angry that you thought everything was fine, when I'm pretty sure you knew everything wasn't. I was cutting and suicidal! You knew that! How could you not know what it stemmed from? How could you not know the source of my never ending depression?

I'm angry. And I don't like being angry. I hate it. I don't want to be angry anymore. I just want to move on. I don't want to cause any problems with you or your family or friends. I hear you are trying to turn your life around. I'm happy you are. I'm happy that you have been able to move on so easily. It's not so easy for me.

So, forgive me for being angry. I'll get over it. Thank you for your apology, I hope that one day I will be able to accept it.

Sincerely,
SuperMana