A painful past

What hurts you? I have quite a bit that has hurt me. When I was young, very young, under 3 years old, my father took his life in the home we lived in. He used a gun. I was there and don't know and may never know how much of it I saw or understood. As an adult I went to counseling for a while and was told I suffered from PTSD. The traumatic experiences that lead to this PTSD was from this, plus being sexually molested, neglected, abused, constantly minimized as to my self worth, and more. The therapist was confident there was other sexual abuse that I'm not able to recollect. I continually have that feeling too and who but can't put my substantiate it. She said my actions were that of one who was molested at a much younger age than the age I told her of the incidents I knew.

Living with the pain of my father taking his life, leaving me to survive in the hell of a life I was left in was difficult. Because he took his life I had to struggle for many years that I was never good enough for my own father to love. How could he leave me in such an awful environment? Why would he want to leave his only child? What about me wasn't good enough to live for and to love? Could he never envision me growing up, graduating, getting married, having kids?  Sadly those who suffer all the emotions that allows a person to opt for suicide don't think clearly and don't see forward. Sadly they don't see that committing suicide doesn't end the pain, rather it transfers the pain to those that loved that person. That pain transferred forward to me feeling insignificant to love.

My mother has whatever mental issues she has. She didn't work but maybe a year or so my whole childhood. She lived mostly on her bed and did nothing. My oldest brother and I had to do all the cooking and cleaning. My other brother didn't have to do as much because he has a developmental delay of some sorts. My mother was never nurturing or attentive. I was always made to feel like I was nothing more than a bother. As I said in my first post, I was often reminded I was a mistake and wasn't even supposed to be born.

I married young at 18. I had no concept of marriage, family, children etc. I got pregnant right way and had 3 kids in 3 years. I began to learn the hard way that I only escaped one problem to form another. I don't call my kids a mistake and I'll never regret them (love them to the moon and back), but certainly they didn't have the best options coming into a world with a broken set of parents. Over the years my brokenness would get worse. My self worth would continue to go down hill and in a very deep and dark way.

When I was a teen I wanted to die. I wanted to end my own life. I wrote poems as a teen and one day my mother found my notebook with very deep, dark poems about ending my life. Wouldn't you know there was no approaching me with love, care, or concern. Rather I was talked down to, told how stupid I was and what the hell was wrong with me? Really? What the hell was wrong with me? Do I need to spell any of it out or are we getting the idea here? She didn't seem to get the idea so I just sunk deeper into my darkness.

Through the years my heart was deep, dark, black, and decaying. Through all of this however, topically I was always cheerful, bubbly, happy, and always concerned for everyone else but me. If I put others first it always kept me from feeling how bad I really felt. As long as I made others happy I felt sort of complete. No one ever cared if I was okay or happy or not, or at least that was what I thought.  I was so used to being unwanted and unlovable, it never mattered if I was okay.

Skipping over some things (that I'll come back to with time) I ended up in a very religious church that didn't allow women to do or be much. Some of you will read this and get mad but it is what it is. During this time I became depressed and oppressed. So many women in this religious environment were equally oppressed. We didn't get to do anything, no cutting of the hair, make-up, wearing pants, work (unless you were single); you couldn't speak out, and so on. Think a modern day Amish religion (it's the only way I can explain it in a condensed version).  I married one of their so called ministers. I felt I was groomed, encouraged to become some preachers wife. Oh you'll be amazing they said. You'll do this, that and the other. You'll be a blessing. Coming from no value, and no self-esteem, I took a double scoop of okay, sure, sign me up. I'll be something and a somebody some day.  That only become another rock on the crap pile of depression.  I had to move to WA state to go to the bible school where my life was even more regulated. This so called minister of a husband turned out to be a real piece of work. He was far from what you'd consider a minister husband to be. This was yet another relationship where I'm going how in the hell did I ever get so low that I actually agreed to get married.  Not trying to find the negative in others but there was so much non-self value that anything was easy to accept, to go along with, to believe in.  The longer I stayed in this environment, the more oppression I began to experience.

I became so depressed that into my late 30's I didn't want to do anything but die. I often thought of ways to die. I often prayed if God cared anything about me, he'd finally just let me die and put me out of everyone's misery!  I would tell God I knew He hated me because he wouldn't let me die. My depression was so bad it was all I could do to get up, go to work, and come home. I'd go to my room and stay in there as much as I could. One of the hardest memories I have to face is me telling my boys I just want to die. I remember screaming, sobbing in front of them, telling them I wish I were dead. I wish I would have never been born. I wish I could just die. My heart will forever ache knowing they had to hear me say such awful things and had to see me in such an awful way. The only 4 things that ever kept me from ending my life is: (1-3) my 3 boys, and #4 was knowing the pain I would end would be transferred over to them to have to deal with for life. Today I thank God I never took my life and that He didn't let me die.

With all this pain (and I haven't even begun to go through it all) I had to find a place of forgiveness of myself and all those who have hurt me. I had to find I was worth being loved and I was worth fighting for. No matter what your struggle is, whether it's self worth, addiction, weight, insecurities, no matter what it is, you need to focus on the fact you are worth so much more than any problem you are going through will lie to you and tell you. You are worth the fight. Never give up on whatever journey you are on. Never give in. If you are depressed PLEASE get help. Don't allow suicide to be an option. It only carries the pain forward. I have a friend who just lost a loved one to suicide. If you need help please call the suicide hot line. I am also willing to be there for you as well.  However my assistance would be minimal and I recommend a professional therapist. There is no shame in saying I NEED HELP. I wish someone would've helped me and told me that. Regardless I made it and I'm here. Please know it's okay to admit you need help. You are valued and you are worthy of love! Please take time to be gentle to yourself, remind yourself of this, and envision your new journey.

Much love and peace to you all.

Kat