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how to list a blog. depression, ptsd. greif, dealing w/ suicide. I got em all


sweetpea

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I had parents that were alcoholics, my mom a diagnose schizophrenic sociopathic. One of the dangerous types. My dad abused us sexually. My mom hated sex and if it can be passed to someone, even her own children then consider it done. My Dad became ill, terminal throat cancer and started to waist away. My mom drags home a new boyfriend who is also an offender. My mom was so very violent and the fights were life threatening. Day after x-mas I turned 16, we lived in the country and all 5 of us kids were nervous about how things would be when mom got home from the bar. It was bad, I found her boyfriend choking mom, her tongue was stuck out and her eyes were rolling back in her head.. He wouldn't stop, I kicked him in the face over and over and still he held on. I picked up a brick and struck him in the head till everything stopped. We were on the news and nobody would even sit next to us on the school bus. The next morning as mom was hosing off her then dead boyfriend in the basement I happened down the steps. Her words to me were "you killed the only man I ever loved". As a child I learned to make myself kind of disappear where I couldn't hear the screaming of my baby brother being dropped in hot water or my Dad being beaten with a dog chain. I knew I'd never be like other kids but ya just kind of keep on keeping on. Moms sickness has continued through out her life and she's a mean 78 year old, funny how much i STILL love her. In October of 08 I found my brother in a closet, he had shot himself and the smell of decomp never leaves my brain, he was blueish. I went into one of those disappearing deals, i believe it's a safety valve learned in childhood. This time it's not working, Eddie and I were two peas in a pod and I did my best to keep him safe when we were kids. When his wife shot herself not quite 2 years ago I began to watch my beloved brother die. He died of a broken heart but the bullet killed his body. I could do nothing each and every day except hold him and give him a back scratch like we did as kids as he sobbed. He was a disabled home bound vet, his feet were crushed by a dropped missile. Both of us have sever pain. I've had my back fused, one hip replaced and still have to to the other, a cornea transplant and have to have the other eye transplanted and multiple back surgeries. Depression, PTSD, GREIF and pain all feed each other. I have recently noticed I prefer the physical pain to mental anguish I live in my waking hours and this thing called sleep, yea I remember sleep and I like it. Not any more, my brain has turned on and has decided to gain it's own momentum. The sprinkles on the sick ice cream cone are the anxiety attacks and treating my loving husband hatefully and the words sorry seem hollow now but meant for as much as I can feel anything. My love begged me to see a shrink and I finally gave in. I have trouble taking meds because my mind fights for control and it seems the meds don't work like they for others . I'm not sure how to tell my rent a friend aka shrink about the problem with the meds. I just want to be helped in a kind manor but i don't think I should have to go through my total history, it's just too hard and I'm not able to right now. Any words of advise as to how to approach my upcoming visit on the 30TH? I've seen a shrink ten years ago and he was a good man, With meds I slowly came around but I'm talking SLOWLY. I'm 53 now and feel it's a real kick in the ass I have to do this again. To say I miss my brother sounds ludacris and I feel the best part of me died with him. I would never do away with myself and yes I've thought about it from an early age but marring and having a son made doing such a thing to my boy an impossibility. Eddie used to say we are a house full of broken toys, toys that stuck together so closely that I feel like I've had an amputation. I feel I will never be rid of this mental disease but I don't want to let it whip my ass either. I am so thankful for being a critter and nature lover, my feline fur balls stick to me like Velcro and they can tell when I'm feeling bad. When folks say it's just an animal I have an urge to poke em the eye. Animals give more respect than most humans. It's such a shame how this syndrome just continues on and on in families. Luckily out of us 5 kids none of us drink but only my self and my sister had one son, the boys never had families. Guess the madness had to stop somewhere. I thank the powers that be that I raised a good strong man without the legacy of lunacy and so did my sister. So much for making this a short comment which I do apologize for. This is getting bad to say the least. What are good meds that work for this and could being hypnotized help me at least with anxiety? Thank you so much for taking the time to read my pitiful story, it should be a chapter in THE BROTHERS GRIM. Thank you kindly, Donna

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sweetpea, you are such a brave soul. You've been able to write to us here, and that is a good start. If you wanted, you could print a copy of what you've written and give it to your therapist. Many of us bring stuff written down when we go to our appointment. It made it easier for me. Let us know how it goes....

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