“Declined” a Trigger Word of Mine

Sorry I haven’t written in awhile. Lots of changes have been happening. I got promoted and have been so super busy. I wanted to talk about another trigger word that I have come across.

My husband and I were applying for a card to build some credit. I have never had credit before so getting a credit card could be a task. I maybe declined or not approved.

Anyways, sitting in the chair hearing the man say, “You maybe declined” or “You maybe not approved”, made me feel so trashy. He didn’t say it in any mean tone or with an additional meaning. He was just explaining what might happen and why. He doesn’t know me personally.

But just to think that I am not “approved” was devastating. Why wouldn’t the credit card company want me? Am I not good enough? Smart enough? Why wouldn’t I be approved?

I was sitting there just thinking of all these things. I realized just how much those two phrases really hurts my self esteem. I get depressed and sad just thinking about it now. Why am I not good enough? Why do I feel not good enough?

The same thing happens when I see a bigger woman than myself wearing tighter clothes. She looks nice, the clothes flatter her body shape and I think she looks perfectly fine and pretty. But if I wear something remotely the same or tight- I feel like a tub of fat ugly lard that no one should look at.

Just the other day I got my picture taken. I stood up straight, smiled and felt confident. I looked at the picture and all I saw was how small my head was compared to my large chest, my fat arms, and not so flat midsection. I felt like Beetlejuice when his head was shrunk.

I want to work out to become skinnier and I feel like that will truly help all my problems. My chest will go from a DD to a B/C, my muffin top will go away and I will finally have abs. I will finally feel good enough, worthy enough to enjoy life. But at the same time I am so torn- I want to love myself for who I am and where I am.

My Therapist is Leaving?!

Out in the waiting room at my last appointment I hear someone talking to my therapist about how great she is and how sad they are to see her go. When I go into my appointment I ask her first off if it is true and she confirms it. Thankfully, when I found out it is not our last visit. I will be able to see her through the end of the month but still I bawled like a baby.

We are just starting to talk about one of the hardest issues for me and she is leaving. She then began to tell me that in just a couple months she will be back at another private location that costs money. Right now I my counseling is free due to the organization I go through. Once she leaves and if I decided to resume with her it will cost me $$ every week to see her and insurance coverage is a joke.

I have spoke with the hubby and we are deciding if we would like to do that or not. We don’t have much or make much. And we don’t have any other options that offer free counseling. The other woman at this organization isn’t taking on new clients.

When I started thinking about it- I don’t want to switch to another person. She is so good, and we have already been through so much. She understands me in a way that it would take someone new months to get. If I do choose to continue to see her after a month’s break- I will feel so guilty costing us money.

I am hoping that these last couple visits I will learn some tools to calm down and keep the nightmares away. They are starting to occur in the day when I am awake now- leaving me so mentally exhausted.

The Broken Record

Vinyl Revival

You would think I would know how to prepare when I see it coming. You would think I would know how to let it “roll off my shoulders”. But holidays are spent with family, laughs, food and traditions. What if you are uninvited to your own family get together? No word, no call, no letter, nothing.

I have talked about this a little bit before. I knew the email was coming. I had a gut feeling but what I did not know is how much it really does effect me. It wasn’t until I had an anxiety attack at church this Easter Morning I realized the severity of it. Easter is a time of rejoicing, praise and worship. So why was I asking certain songs to be muted and certain phrases to be not be spoken?

My ears cringe every time I hear someone say or shout, “He is RISEN!” or I hear the song, All in All or In Christ Alone. I finally have figured out why it throws me into a swirling sea of emotions- it is because of my mother.

Every Easter when I lived with her or visited her she would say this phrase and I had to reply back with another phrase. If I did not- I would be in trouble. I cannot stand that phrase even though I love the meaning behind it. I love Jesus and I am so thankful he took my guilt, my shame and all my sin away. I beyond happy that he defeated death and rose again. But just that phrase or those songs that she used to play all the time just make me want to hurl or lash out in rage.

If you have been reading my blogs you know that I do not get emails (/contact) currently from my m. at all and if I do they are generic greeting cards. And that I do not have contact with her by her choice. So in the middle of worship at church the triggers were thrown at me. I had to sit down and try to calm my anxiety attack down.

I had a normal day today besides the fact I am still mourning family members’ passing and being away from my family. My husband’s family came, we had a great dinner, some time to talk and an all around nice time together. My heart longed to be with my sisters or to at least have them included in my life.

I received an email from my m and of course- I saw it coming. I knew it would happen. All it said in the message was “He is RISEN! He is Risen Indeed. Love, Mom.” That’s it. You know how that made me feel, EVEN THOUGH I KNEW IT WAS COMING- it broke my heart. Not even signed with love from my sisters or step dad. Not even signed with a thinking of you, or love you.

At first it didn’t bother me but sitting there thinking about how I am not wanted in part of my family’s life- just tore me apart. I wanted to scream and to email a quick response back with something snippy and clever like “Why don’t you try sending a real email next time or just don’t bother at all- I only hear from you on holidays anyway. At least I had the nerve to call you and wish you Happy Easter.”

I didn’t even respond but that is what I would of loved to say. I did call after that email was sent and of course had to speak to the voicemail. She screens her calls and decides when to answer. And it is always so awkward for me because normally you say “See you soon or talk to you later” well, in my case that is not true at all. I won’t see her or my sisters soon and I mostly like will never talk to them again until she decides to let me.

It burns me. It really burns me. I am going to bring it up to the therapist when I go this next week and see what she says. This happens every year and I get the same crash afterwards and you know it probably doesn’t even bother her. She is just thinking “Okay, I did the bare minimum to still remain the title of Mom.” At least that is what it feels like to me.

This happens every single year and I can predict down to the WORDS of what she will say to me or how she will say it. You think by now I would be okay with it or not care. I wish I didn’t care. For my birthday card one year I got in my 20s she signed it: “Thank God you are here one more year to serve him.” That is ALL SHE WROTE ladies and gents- ALL SHE WROTE. Not an I love you, not Happy Birthday or anything else personal.

I was in disbelief when I read it. I just couldn’t believe it. Aren’t you some what thankful for me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me? You can see now how easily it is to have animosity towards God because that is how her abuse and control is delivered. It is so hard for me not to cut myself right now. I have so much bottled up- even the tasty cheesecake can’t comfort me.  Don’t worry- I won’t. I haven’t cut for years because I made a promise to my father to not cut anymore but the urge is getting stronger.

 

The Switch

Switch-from-Lancet

 

In the beginning of my life I can recall happy memories and a normal life, somewhat. I remember being taken to the tanning salon (to go with her, not to tan myself), going to movies, eating candy and getting ice cream. I remember how fun it was, how she wore makeup and jeans. I remember how proud I was to have her be my m.

It was just me and her until I was around 7 or 8. Granted she worked crazy hours and would sleep all the time. I would feel neglected and had to spend most of my time over at someone else’s house, alone and outside. I remember having to get food for myself when I was with her and learning to not bother or disturb my m. very early on. But we did normal things and were as “normal” as we could be.

Plus I would have my dad and step mom visits and stays every other weekend. That was really fun. To be honest I can’t remember most of my childhood except  the bad memories. Even with those I can only remember a select few. I am only in my 20s, is that normal for someone my age to not remember their life before they were 14?

Anyways- my m. always had the attitude, the temper, the inside pain but at least on the outside she was passing off as normal. And I did feel somewhat wanted by her at times. My s.d. came into the picture and they were married when I was 8. I was excited for them.

The first year was fine. I would get presents that I wanted, spend time with them and we even went to a drive-in movie theatre (I miss those). But things started to change slowly and quickly. More outbursts and ugliness was shown. My s.d actually tried to stand up for me one time when she was just yelling at me for something, I can’t remember what.

She ran upstairs, bawled her eyes out and he never ever stepped in for me again. I gained a lot of respect with him that day because he saw what it was like for me. Now a days he is deluded from her control. Things really changed when I had my dog attack that I talk about in The Tree’s Secret, that happened when I was 10.

I would not be able to pick out my own clothes for school. I would have to wear old clothes, out of style clothes. I was bullied at school in 6th grade but I would of rather taken the bullying then to stay home with her. I believe it was either 5 or 6th grade that is when the running began and also the Xs on the calendar, which is talked about in my blog, The Calendar. I will touch more on the running in a later blog.

I remember after that first Christmas they had as a couple was the best. After that my presents got less and less. I am not materialistic but it was very hurtful. It went from things I wanted to things I needed. For example, I would get soap, shampoo, conditioner in presents that I needed and that would be it. I would get them in Easter Baskets, Christmas’, Birthdays- it was strange.

I would never really spend anytime with her at all. I would be locked outside the house from school all the time and for so long I would wet myself because I couldn’t hold it. Then I would get in a lot of trouble for it. I can’t really remember when it all switched for the worse because it happened so slowly. When my 1st sister was born I was 10 and it slowly started happening then. During this time the Bible wasn’t shoved down my throat and I don’t think she wore dresses all the time. The abuse was still there.

In 6th grade, something happened, I do not know what but something prompted me to speak to a counselor at the school. I can’t recall what I said but I do remember her going back on her promise. She said it would be just between me and her. Well, now being older I know she was probably legally bound to call Child Protective Services.

I felt so ashamed for drawing this attention, I was punished for it and no sign was ever found. I felt like the girl in The Glass House (movie). Things were faked to look like a good home. After that school year, I was given a choice. I either go to a Christian Private School or stay home with her to be home schooled. Up until that time- I had gone to 3 different schools in her custody and this would be the 4th switch.

I of course went to the Christian School instead of being home schooled. I couldn’t honestly imagine being home schooled by her. There would be no escape for me. School was an escape from her. She did have to drive me to school everyday though because it wasn’t nearby. The car rides were horrible, I talk about that in my blog Alphabet Soup- where I had to recite tons of memory verses for no reason than just to please her.

I remember her coming to me one day and saying she is no longer going to have angry outbursts at me. And that is when the fake-ness and no communication took place. It felt like she was the victim each and every time we would have a “discussion”. She also started to take more naps. She didn’t have a job but she was always so exhausted.

The big switch was when my journal was found. The whole entire time I lived with my m. She despised and hated my dad. I wasn’t allowed to talk about him and she would boast about how he was such a horrible father and that he will never get custody of me.

I took matters into my own hands and started keeping a private record of things that were done to me and how I felt about them. To one day take them to court to prove to the them how life was with her. A couple months into summer, right after my 14th birthday (when the custody battle was going to take place) my little toddler sister found the journal and gave it to her daddy. She thought my daddy and her daddy were the same. Actually for a long time everyone didn’t know I had a different last name or a different dad. I was always called by a different last name.

Anyways, they got their hands on it. After the years and years of saying how he will never get me- they gave me to him. Their reasoning was because I had already emotionally left them. What? That makes me laugh because she just didn’t want to be found out for what happens behind closed doors. And she had caught me several times through out my younger years of packing a bag to run away.

That is when the big switch took place. I moved homes. But that last year there was the worse- gradually the spiritual, physical and emotional neglect was at an all time high. Then once I left, the fake, perfect, happy homeschool, Christian life began. I was angry throughout my whole time living with them. I didn’t understand all the changes, moving and the fakery that was happening. I just wanted my old m. back. I felt like I was mourning the loss of a mother and it still feels like I am. Just because my dad got custody of me, my mom had visitation rights and I hated it. It was like something out of a movie. It didn’t and still doesn’t make any sense. How can someone be happy living like that? Everything is planned and calculated. There are more stories to come that will elaborate on this subject.

I just do not understand the crazy lady switch. From anger to silence and everything is perfect. She says, ” Look at me and my wonderful 3 daughters.”  Now a days she forgets to tell people she has a 4th, which is me.