This is 34

 

For my 34th birthday, someone told me to think about how far I have come in the past 17 years after they wished me a Happy Birthday.  I have to admit that I didn't give it much thought until yesterday when while talking to my husband I ended up pointing out what I had accomplished in just the last decade.  Then I thought, what had happened the 7 years prior to that? And I decided to make a list only because I feel that there are others out there who might be in similar positions as I was and it might help them keep the fight.  Another reason was that it would be a healthy reminder to myself and others that I should never be underestimated. 

So, how far have I come in the past 17 years?  Here it goes...

When I turned 17, I had already graduated high school and I was living with a man who had brought me to this country years prior with the promise that he would pay for my college studies.  That promise never came.  As a matter of fact, once I graduated high school at the young age of 16 he told me that I had to figure out how to pay for my own health insurance and that the only thing he would give me would be room and board along with $500 for college.  During this time I was still waiting for my residency papers so I couldn't start school but I could work, the problem was that I was a minor and minors were supposed to be insured by their parents.  This was a concept he did not understand, but that is part of him being abusive.

The household I lived in consisted of my biological father and his wife.  Both had previous marriages and both had children from those previous marriages.  Every time they fought, which was often because Mario never liked being late for anything and she was always late for everything, the family was divided by him.  He would call on HIS children and take them with him while calling her children HERS and blaming her for how "bad" they behaved.  This happened every single time something fun was planned, as well as every single holiday. 

There were too many instances when I had to walk in the dark through alleys because he refused to get in the car at 10pm and drive two miles to pick me up from work.  I always felt I was already taking care of myself, the only thing that I was not doing was paying rent because I was even buying myself food outside the house every time I worked.  By the time I turned 18, he forced me to buy a car on his terms.  I was going to pay for it, it would be financed under just my name (which was not a bad thing) but he got to tell me what car I would be allowed to purchase.  It had to be certain years old, had a certain amount of miles, and a certain price.  I agreed because he said that he and his wife would help me with a downpayment, they would give me, I believe $1000 for the downpayment with the notion that I had to save too.  I did, but I remember that something happened that I was forced to use some of that money, and guess what? Suddenly they would not give me any money for a down payment cause I didn't save enough, however, I was still to buy a car under their terms.  

My then-boyfriend offered to help me because he knew what had happened was out of my control and said well, if I lend you the money then they will have to give you the full $1000 right? then you can get a better vehicle.  It turned out that no, they would not do it because it was not the money I had saved.  Mind you that up until this point I was a child who didn't get into trouble and was often focused on my studies.  I mean, I would have to do well in school in order to graduate by the age of 16, right?  I ended up buying the car he wanted me to buy, which broke down just a year later because well... it was a Ford.

After getting the car, my boyfriend and I decided to move in together.  At this time, my biological father's wife was pregnant and made the announcement.  When I told him that I was moving out, all hell broke loose.  Suddenly, I would never meet my baby sibling, I was a selfish person for leaving the house, and my boyfriend would realize how terrible of a person I was and he would abandon me because of it.  After that, he told me how I would then come back crawling for a place to stay and he would say no, then went on to throw me out of his house.  I left his house that day but the day I left to move out of the state as planned, I was told to come to say bye.  When I arrived, he pretended that he had said nothing and was "wishing me well."  There was no apology, no acknowledgement that he had done anything wrong only him gaslighting me by now telling me he wished me well and how he was proud of me.  

During this time, I never knew that all he was doing was actual abuse.  I ended up living with that boyfriend for about a year, I went on to buy a brand new car, have different experiences from not having a place to live (mostly cause I didn't really want to), leaving in a hotel room, being raped by a coworker and then being fired because they didn't want their best employee to get into trouble.  By the time I turned 19, after having another altercation with my biological father because my grandmother, who was visiting the United States wanted to be dropped off at his house that night after I had gotten out of work at 9pm.  It was a 3-hour drive and she threatened to grab a cab to his place which I would not let her do.  She couldn't wait until my day off, so there I went... In the middle of the night, driving her to his place.  I didn't have a key and I had to go back because I had to work the next day, he went ballistic again and told me to never ask him for help again.  I was not welcomed at his house.

A few months later I ended up meeting my second abuser.  He quickly became my first husband and I was easy prey.  I had no support from my biological father, I had trouble at work, and I was ready to just have some stability.  I didn't love him but he looked like he was stable, with his own place and wanting to have a family, which I wanted also so I said: why not? and I married him after I had told him no like 6 times.  A few months into the marriage he was already controlling, he was a slob, and after having my wisdom teeth taken out he decided he would steal my pain killers.  Being raised so sheltered, I had no idea that people could get addicted to those or that they would sell each pill on the streets for $25 to $100 each.  When I found out, he told me that he had sold them because we needed extra money.  I wanted out, but then I find out I am pregnant, so now I had to stay. 

I was very ill during the first few months of pregnancy and lost a lot of weight, therefore I had to quit my job and depend on him solely.  I ended up finding out he was addicted to drugs shortly after because he had taken my car to his work due to his driver's license being suspended and him not having money to get it reinstated.  That day he went off on me because the car wouldn't go over 20 miles an hour, there was an issue with the computer transmission but somehow that was my fault.  According to him, I had gotten under the hood of the car while I was five months pregnant and done something to it so he couldn't use it and now he was late for work.  It was not that he was late for work because he was looking for drugs, it was because his pregnant wife had done something to the car.  His mother had to pick me up to take me to where he had parked the car and asked me what happened.  When I told her, she said that she had given him the money to fix his driver's license... After that, he was forced to tell me he had a drug addiction. 

He was supposedly going to work on that and make sure he did everything the rehab facility told him.  I found another job once I felt better and his mommy gave him a job at an apartment complex she and her then-husband owned.  He ended up stealing from them both, they found out after the baby was born and she threatened to take my child away if I didn't leave her son.  It all went downhill from there, we had already moved three times since I got pregnant and we would end up moving another three times in the first nine months of the baby's life.  I ended up losing my vehicle because he wouldn't pay for it and said I could either make enough to pay for the vehicle (which I knew he would end up taking that money from me, he used to say that he needed me to make $500 a month which was the same amount he would say he spent on drugs each month) or give the vehicle up.  He didn't think I would just give it up, but I know it was the right choice.  I ended up with an eviction on my record because he never told me that the apartment complex we had moved into had started the process and the day we had to go to court, he decided that looking for drugs was more important.

When I finally decided to leave him, I had no money, no job, no phone, no vehicle, we were living in a room that we were renting, he was telling me how much I could eat and would yell if I ate more than that, and he was pawning my computers so I did not have an alternate way of communicating at all.  At this point, the only person who could help me was my abusive biological father.  When you ask why victims do not leave, it is often because the only way they can do so safely is by switching from one abuser to another.  When you ask if he helped? Yes, my biological father did help, he helped because it fed his ego to help, not because of anything else.  I was well aware of that though. 

What would follow? I would end up being gaslighted and emotionally abused for months until the law caught up to my then-husband.  He had committed insurance fraud and they were looking for him.  My biological father had one of his tantrums and ended up hitting me while I was holding my then-18-month-old.  He told me that he would be my worst nightmare while his wife to this day will tell people that I am crazy and threw myself down the stairs.  He didn't know that when I moved in with him, I had already made a plan in case this happened.  A plan that he hated because he couldn't stand that someone else would help me.  During my stay there, I had a job as a nanny and the woman I worked for was the best.  Once I was gone from this other abuser, we found a way to get me to keep working.  Then my mother-in-law offered help.  I didn't know that she was another narcissist and abusive person. 

Ohh the cycle of abuse, the more you are around it, the more you think it is normal and therefore you end up attracting people who behave the same.  My mother-in-law tried to take my child away from me again, this time she decided to call Child Protective Services, she bailed her druggy son out of jail and made a plan to keep my child.  Child Protective Services showed up and saw that it was all a scam.  I ended up having to leave her house in a rush because she threatened to keep me there against my will by using her son and the power of the courts.  More emotional abuse happened from her and him.  Karma is good though because, in her focus on trying to make me the bad guy and trying to hurt me, her son ended up stealing from her and she ended up getting a divorce.  

What happened next? I got another job as a nanny, it lasted a year until I had a disagreement with my boss.  Then I decided that it was time for me to find a way to get myself back on my feet, get a job that would offer me benefits, and would let me work from home.  I found one in less than a week after I had already put that in my head.  I would make enough to rent an apartment for my daughter and I, and eventually would allow me to possibly do other things.  During this time, I had other altercations with Mario (my biological father), but I was still not clear on how abusive that man was.  My grandmother would always tell me he was just a little crazy and she didn't know why he was that way since she never treated him that way.

Oh well... We finally moved into our own place and to a different city.  Shortly after, I decided to completely cut ties with Mario and his family and things became a lot better.  This is when I started to meet some of the best people in my life.  My adoptive moms, adoptive dads, adoptive uncles, sisters, grandmas, etc... The abuse still haunted me but it was not something that was constant.  My first husband was in and out of jail, his mother was trying to get on my good side and I was giving her a second chance only because I felt that most people deserve that after they apologize and change their behavior.  I was wrong to do that... but that's a lesson learned. 

I ended up moving out of the state of Florida a year later with the promise to never go back to live there.  I was making my way out, my goal was to live by the mountains and get a car.  The specific car? A Pathfinder! I didn't want anything different, I had sold me on the idea when I realized that American made vehicles (after having two that had too many issues and one of them was brand new) were just not made to last.  My first husband kept telling me how the Pathfinder was not put together in America and how good the car was.  My daughter and I ended up in NC, not the place I wanted to stay for sure, but the place that for now would work.  Three years later I received an offer to work with the Colorado Crisis Intervention program.  By then, I had been working as an independent contractor for a company that dealt with non-profits.  This was my first experience of building a business.  I was able to go from just taking calls, to doing quality assurance for several clients and training new agents.  With this new project, I would be able to make enough to find a better place to live and eventually get a car.  All I had to do was move to where the time zone worked in a way that I could match the full-time hours that the group was opened. 

My now ex-husband and his mommy couldn't have that and it was not a surprise being that several times she always said she would not stop until I was destitute.  So, after I moved, what did they do? They joined forces again to force me to live near them and take my child from me.  They succeeded, they succeeded because we have a very corrupt justice system that works for those who have money to give to judicial campaigns and that favors abusers over protective mothers.  This guy had never been involved in my daughter's life (yes, she is my daughter, I raised her without his help and when he showed up to taker her from me, he told the judge he was still not ready to be a father). 

After she was taken away, I continued to do what I had set out to do.  I met my now-husband, who is not perfect but I adore him.  This man has the ability to learn from his mistakes and while we don't agree on everything, but when we disagree is done in a respectful way and we come to a happy medium.  I bought my brand-new pathfinder, no my husband did not help me.  You see, I had learned that what I had gone through was domestic abuse and I was still learning to deal with what were my triggers, what were my needs.  One of them was that I needed to accomplish a lot of what I wanted on my own and guess what? I did.  I was living in a place that is 20 min away from the mountains, I had gotten the car I wanted, and I had started my own business separate from what I was doing before... Less work, more pay, and work that I really enjoyed doing.  

A little over a year ago: got the bigger place, a year before that we got a dog (which was part of what I wanted), I started to write my story in the form of a book which will contain more details of what I have written here, and I started the process of forming a non-profit that would tell my story along with the story of other women who have been victims of the family court system in the United States. The non-profit will help empower them by helping them file grievances against judges who ignore evidence and refuse to take abuse into consideration when making custody decisions.  It will also empower them to speak up and help defend themselves from civil rights violations that happen on a daily basis due to these corrupt judges.  That non-profit is still a work in progress but make no mistake, it will be big and well-known... I can already see it. 

And so, here I am at age 34 and I have gone from being an abuse victim who didn't know she was being abused, to learning so much about abuse and mental illness that sometimes even the people who have studied in the field get new information from just speaking to me.  Going from being an abuse victim to helping other people through my work, because that is what I do when I coach others.  Going from being an abuse victim without a place to live, to having a nice house with a yard big enough that we even planted a garden.  Going from having people who would often doubt my abilities, to being surrounded by people who know that as soon as I say I want to do something they know that it might take me a little bit, but that I will surely get it done. Going from having to ask for help to being able to cover all our (I say our because I can cover my husband's expenses too if I want to) expenses with just what I make.  No, I am not money rich yet, but I am rich! I have good people by my side and let me tell you something while there was a time when I would be looked at as someone who everyone would step on, as someone who was not as sure of herself as she should have been, that person does not really exist anymore.  The person that all my troubles helped shaped is the one who now says: DO NOT underestimate me, I might take a little while to get there, but I will get there because I don't go back down the stairs, I just keep going up. 

My view on the Bird Box movie. (Spoilers)

That Bird Box movie... (Spoilers ahead)

First I want to start by saying that I’m not a fan of horror movies and do not really do well with suspense either.  However, because of all the memes and apparent hype of this movie, I felt oddly prompted to go ahead and watch it.  Fourteen minutes into it and I paused it so I could go read what the movie was about and how it would end (I told you, I am terrible when it comes to suspense, there’s enough of that in my life already).  After watching the whole thing though, I felt that the movie was completely dumb!  I mean, we don’t ever get to see what really was causing some people to commit suicide and others to see these "invisible" monsters as something beautiful.

I went on one of my social media pages and expressed my dislike of the movie.  One of my friends pointed out that the movie is about blinding yourself when it comes to evil things that happen and also to try and not pay attention to bad temptations.  This didn’t quite resonate with me as I don't feel we can just turn a blind eye to the “bad” that happens out there and ignoring temptations can most times make us feel more tempted. Of course I responded to this with guidance from my spirit guides and angels (as I often do) and said that it’s more about fear and making us aware that those things we fear don’t go away just by ignoring them.  We have to have the courage to accept those things we fear so we can finally confront them and hopefully let go of them.

But what exactly is this movie showing that we fear?  I decided to continue to meditate on this and ask Spirit why I was moved by the hype of the movie (which I am not usually moved by).  I really didn’t know what the movie was about other that Sandra Bullock being blindfolded for most of it.  Before I started to watch it I seriously though that Sandra’s character was being kidnapped along with her children and was being forced to wear a blindfold the whole time.  The name of the movie was beyond my comprehension, maybe she was kept in a cage like a bird too or they were looking for a bird box and that is why they were kidnapped. Anyhow... what is this movie showing that we fear and what is it that most people seem to be missing here?  Mental illness!

The entire premise of the movie is that people are affected by some invisible force that makes them commit suicide while it causes others to see it as something beautiful.  Depending on how you look at this movie; you will either feel that this movie stigmatizes mental illness even more OR it tries to help point out that we shouldn’t blind ourselves to it.  That mental illness (more specifically depression) is an invisible force that most of us don’t understand but we should try.  I was divided on this until again my wonderful spirit guides reminded me of the part of the movie where the picture above shows up.

The guy who drew those pictures had survived seeing these invisible monsters.  He saw them as beautiful, even though they are obviously ugly and scary looking.  He came into the house telling a story about how people in a mental institution all survived seeing these monsters, how they all said they were beautiful, and how they wanted everyone else to see them.  I found it interesting that it was those who were already dealing with mental illness the ones who survived seeing the monsters and the ones who were happy to see them while the others would be filled with the desire to end their lives.  The message I got from people with mental illness surviving this was that they were happy that now everyone else could see these monsters.  They saw them as beautiful because now everyone could see them.  For a moment everyone else was able to feel what they feel on a daily basis and most people were not able to survive it.  Those with mental illness survived the invisible monster because they were already living with it.

So what was my message after watching this?  Well for one it made me more aware about how people see mental illness.  How fearful they are of it and how most wouldn’t be able to live with it for long.  It made me realize that those who are continuing to live with mental illness, depression mostly, are way stronger than one can think, stronger than even they think they are.  Even those who have given up and decided to commit suicide; they lived with an illness who most don’t understand, an illness that can’t be seen, and a pain that was endured for far too long.  They’ve dealt with something that most people stigmatize and see as something that they should just be able to "get over."

Don’t get me wrong, i am fully aware that a person has the responsibility to reach out and ask for help.  They have the responsibility to accept the help that’s being offered but I know it makes it harder to accept help when mental illness is so stigmatized.  When a person with mental illness is looked at as someone who is just whining about something they shouldn't be whining about.  I cannot imagine the embarrassment a person feels when they are unable to just do what others tell them and “get over it."  I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to want, need help, and be afraid of asking for it for fear of what others would say about it.  I mean, I still remember being told by domestic violence advocates and family law attorneys that I had to hide from the courts that I was going to therapy for the trauma I had experienced.  I was told that if I shared that I was receiving help to deal with that trauma then the judge would use it against me.  How sad it was that they were not wrong; the outcome of all that was a judge trying to ensure I was put in a situation where I would experience more trauma and wouldn't be able to get any help.

Each of us has at least one person who is suffering in silence and shouldn’t be.  I know I won't stop talking about it, I know I will not stop learning about it.  I know I will not stop speaking up against those who make this issue more controversial than it needs to be.  I wish more people realized that if there came a time when each of us would be hit with the invisible monster of depression, that very few of us would survive it, so maybe we should all be more compassionate about those who suffer from end and those who didn't win the battle against it.  It is time we stop fearing mental illness, learned more about it, and open up the conversation on it.

The stigma of mental illness, it needs to stop.

A few days ago I found out that one of the people I love suffers from a serious mental illness.  It was amazing to me that until I learned some of their history from family members I would have never really known that they were suffering from this.
Everything they described to me points to bipolar disorder, so off I went and did research, looked back at past behavior I had observed.  Times when I said: "you have way too much energy today" or thought to myself: "they were so happy yesterday and today they won't get out of bed."  I was ignorant of it, just like many other people, so I didn't think much of it other than that maybe they were just going through a little funk.
It was not until the behavior started to seem more out of control than usual that I realized something was wrong but I didn't know what it was.  You see, people with bipolar disorder will seem pretty normal to you when they are manic and all you have ever seen is their mania.  They tend to hide away when they are depressed so that no one will see their low.  They can get irritable when something does not go how they planned it.
By the time I found out, the only people who knew about it were close family and that close family had gotten frustrated and tired because they didn't know how to help anymore.  What was sad though is how many people on my support system pretty much said that this was this person's problem and not mine.  I understand that they all love me, that they all want me to be ok, and that they all know how much this is affecting me.  But I found it cruel that people would just say "turn your back and walk away."
That is the problem we unfortunately face with mental illness these days... and then I wondered if they would have done the same if the person suffering from it was me.  Would they have said that it is my problem and I had to get out of it on my own?  Would they have just walked away and not help?
How bad does it have to get before someone actually takes the time to help out?  Why do we have to wait so long to figure it out?  Right now I am wondering myself why it is that I didn't see it before, I am wondering what I could have done differently because maybe a lot of what has happened could have been avoided.  I am now aware of how bad this is and I am scared to death that something worse could happen.
I am aware of how many people have committed suicide due to this illness, I am aware of how many people have committed suicide due to any mental illness out there, and now that it has been something close to me I wonder how much pain they must have felt.  I wonder how hopeless they were that they couldn't reach out.  I wonder how many of their families tried to help but because they were not aware of what was happening they couldn't get them the treatment necessary and felt like there was no other choice but to give up and so their loved one felt the same way.
I have read several articles so far, posts from people dealing with the disorder.  Most of them tried to keep it hidden, they hid their lows and only showed their highs.   They went through several different medications before they found the one that would work.  They went off their medication when they felt better, only to end up feeling worse.  They all had different ways in which the disease showed in their life, but they all agreed on one thing:  None of them would have been able to do it without people supporting them and that they would have gotten help sooner had they not felt so embarrassed about it, had there not had been stigma over it.
I wonder if they all would have suffered less if we were all more compassionate about this.  Trust me, I know that you cannot help someone who does not want to be helped, that is the first step, they need to want it.  But they also need to know that asking for help is not a bad thing.  That they are going to have people on their corner who know how frustrating and tiresome it can be to deal with the illness but that will have the patience to go through their recovery process.  If they don't have that, chances are they will never get help.
We need to back up just a little and stop this "it's their problem" crap.  The whole "until they are diagnosed, I am not going to excuse the behavior," it is not about excusing a behavior, it is about finding out how to help so that the behavior is not repeated.  It is about finding out what can be done because somewhere in there there's a person who is suffering and who is unable to cope with their disease, who has grown tired of their loved ones turning their backs on them because they don't know how to help anymore.  Who thinks that they are all alone in the world and no one will ever accept them the way they are, but who would fly so high if only they had a good support group.
I have always said that we should work not on preventing suicide but preventing depression, the world would be a much better place if we did that.  If we took the time to say: "hey, it is ok to ask for help, if there is something you are struggling with, please come and talk to me, I am here." or "if you are getting too overwhelmed please don't hesitate to call, I am a phone call away."  But we don't, instead we wait until they are so overwhelmed that they already have the suicidal thoughts.  Instead we wait until they are already hurting themselves before we open our eyes.  And yes, I do know that not all suicides could be prevented, some people go through life hiding their mental illness so well that it is hard to know they ever need help, but if we see it, if we find out that there is something wrong and that maybe there is something, maybe just one more thing we could do about it... Why not do it? Why judge them?  Why not come to them from a place of love and compassion?  Imagine how many more people would come out and ask for help if we didn't have that stigma, how many lives would be saved and how many less people would suffer.
My prayers are with all those who have or have had a loved one go through the battle that mental illness is.  I now understand a little of what you go through.  I understand the stress and the frustration.  I understand the hopelessness that can arise from it.  I say hang in there, make sure you have a good support group of your own and until you feel like you have done everything you can to help, don't give up on them.  I can tell you that they often feel more like a burden to those around them, so in a way they are also feeling your pain.  Talk to them from a place of love and compassion, communicate in that manner and let them always know that they matter, that you always want them around.  Sometimes it might not help, but at the end of the day it is all about you being able to say: I tried and I am glad I did, regardless of the outcome.