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Dear 26 year old Me,

You are about to have your first nervous breakdown, and i need to tell you a few things before it happens. First and foremost, you wll survive it. At the time you will think you won’t, but you will.  You will get a chance to see a glimpse of how much your Mother truly loves you. The lengths she goes to will amaze you. You will hear your Father cry late at night when he thinks you are finally asleep, and this will squeeze your heart so much it physically hurts. You will be be referred to a psychiatrist who will diagnose you with PTSD, and anxiety disorder. You will blame yourself for the break down of your marriage, and you will go on an emotional rollercoaster ride as the Dr’s try to find the right medication for you. You will cry…..a LOT!……and then some more. You will feel like a failure because you have had to move back home with your parents and sister. You will hide the secrets of what took place inside your marriage behind the wall of shame you built for the next 14 years. Your sister will once again become your best friend after having spent 7 years emotionally apart. The road to regaining your self confidence and emotional security will be a long one. I need you to remember that you didn’t get like this over night. It took years of abuse to slowly chip away at your strength.

One day in the future you will sit with your Mum on the edge of her bed, and tell her about the nightmares you still have….about the mental, emotional and sexual abuse you endured……about the nights you sat in the dark crying, wanting more than anything to just be able to phone her and hear her voice and tell her to come and get you…..to hold you…..to keep you safe. You will both sit and cry and you will curl up on her lap and you will finally feel safe again. The type of safe only a Mother’s touch can bring.

You are stronger than this….You always were, and You always will be.

I love you,

Me xo

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Self Sabotage

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as the working week draws to a close, I make fantastic plans in my head of all the things I will do on the weekend. it is the same every week. I plan, and I fail. I see myself getting up early to go to the gym, hubby and I having a lovely brunch, perhaps a spot of shopping with my mum, followed by some type of lovely takeaway for dinner, and chocolate and dvd’s snuggled in our pyjamas.

the reality is that the weekend ends up becoming one frantic waste of time. there is washing to be done, housework that got left to the weekend, the sleep in that was oh so precious I couldn’t drag myself out from under the warm hug of my doona. then I get caught in the vicious circle of weekend hair and clothes, which means even if I found a spare moment to run into the real world, I am never dressed appropriately for public viewing.

I came to the conclusion today that subconsciously I sabotage my weekends. why? well unless it serves my purpose or my needs, deep down I have no desire to actually mingle with people or even leave my house. this in itself is a fine line I walk and I have to monitor myself closely. I suffer with anxiety disorder, and I have a history of PTSD and agoraphobia. these things have a habit of rearing their ugly heads during periods of stress (emotionally or physically). I know they also take a toll on those around me.  so at the moment I need to be a little kinder to myself, and allow myself some breathing space to work through this bout of insecurity and change. so as I sit here on this Sunday night having accomplished very little this weekend other than a clean house, I need to remind myself that a new weekend is only 5 days away……maybe I will have another go at normality then….


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Screamers

i come from a long line of screamers on my mother’s side. it’s hereditary. it’s genetic. it’s a learned behaviour. i scream for many reasons aside the obvious. most people scream when they are excited, frustrated or angry. but in my family the scream is used to show you care about someone. it means you love them. it means you can’t imagine what life would be without them. a perfect example of this is when my Nana had a heart attack many years ago. she was living with my aunt at the time, and it just so happened that she collapsed in front of her. now normal behaviour would be to remain calm, or at least try to, and call for help. but that’s not normal in my family. so instead my aunt yelled at her ‘stop scaring me’ which was then followed by ‘what’s wrong you silly old fool, get up!’. now I feel the need to mention that the ambulance was called and Nana lived to tell the tale.

to get to the point of the story, what I am trying to say is: we yell because we care and because somehow in some way you sacred us. so if I yell at you at a time that seems inappropriate, just remember it’s because I love you.

 

Angry-Lion


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Frantic texts from a toilet cubicle

my morning started with me texting my sister from the toilets at work because I was on the verge of a panic attack and felt like I needed to run away….far far away…..and preferably from myself. the fact that I had the onset of a migraine was only making matters worse. the day was the hectic kind of busy, not the normal busy and by mid morning I was ready to call it quits. my phone flashed at me just as I was about to go back to my desk, gather my belongings, and go home. it was a message from my sister. she wanted me to take stock and put things in perspective. she told me about the phone call she had just received from her boss’s wife. you see his mother had just been diagnosed with cancer, and was being prepped for surgery right that very minute. my heart broke for a man I didn’t know, who was looking at the future with bleak eyes.

I messaged my sister to please let him know that we were thinking of him and sending healing loving vibes to his mother. I then went back to my desk, took a sip of tea, and got on with my hectic busy day. because my mum was safely at home with my dad. because my sister was just at the other end of the phone. because my husband was at work going about his day. because all my loved ones were healthy. because at the end of it all, it was a shitty day at work. it wasn’t a nerve wracking wait in a sterile hospital waiting room, waiting to hear on news about how my mother went in surgery…….

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It

Like purging hell

Violent and uncontrollable

My head explodes

My chest erupts

I feel my kidneys surge

Ambushes me

Attacks me

My eyes just want to close

I fear It and I loathe It

Try to banish It from my life

It’s defiant and underhanded

It thrives on telling me lies

But It is mine

I made It

I own It

Feed It heartache grief and fears

It is the monkey on my back

It is my panic attack

 

 

panic