Updated: Aug 12, 2019
Let us rewind back some time to mid March 2017.
Enter a mother of two, with dwindling energy, hardly able to fight away anxiety acquired through the most manipulative of tactics. She was being gas lighted, made to believe she were the most crazy of monsters. This woman was mostly aware of the richness in her life even through those dark moments, but had yet to discover just how much of that darkness was not her own, rather given to her in a form continually referred to as “love”. She had just ti-trated of a heavy SSNRI pharmaceutical drug that had been unknown to her, causing seizures throughout sleep.
Turn to him, sitting there and observing her body convulsing before him, seemingly not noticing other than the slight grin nudging on his upper lip. Now I’m quite aware that the drugs he slipped her that night were surly not helping the situation, but that won’t be truly realized for some time.
March 24th 2017
In 20 days I will be 28. A mother of two beautiful girls, already 9 and 2 1/2. We have our family fur baby Mars Bars, she helps keep us grounded. My life is rich in this area. Yet, I struggle daily with maddening depression and anxiety. Most days I hardly know how to move myself through this new 24 hour stretch. Keeping busy either serves as a momentary escape from my brain of chaos, or adds a whole new overwhelming stress for the next 3 days or so. During these times I become extraordinarily hard to live with, possibly even love, as I’m coming to find out.
On March 17th 2017, My mental state hit the peak of crazy, before tumbling in on itself. I wanted it to all end, the amount of stress, the feelings of failure, and the knowing that the one person that means anything to me was now blindingly aware that I was/ am for lack of a better term “bat shit crazy”. I fought these feelings from about the time I opened my eyes that morning, before totally falling pray to my own pit of a mind. He was taking the brunt of this episode, at least the outward battle… i.e. not speaking, and when I could it washardly kind. Who am I kidding though, I could count on one hand the amount of kind words I spoke to myself on a daily basis, but after 28 years on this earth that’s something we are all well aware of.
That afternoon, St. Patty’s day, I walked into the bathroom and ran the water as hot as my skin would allow and sat for what turned into 2 baths (4 hours) and 3 days in jail. The lowest I have ever been, but i hardly remembered any of it, until I was in the back of that cop car. He told me he was getting me help after a suicide attempt with a knife failed due to fear. He told them I was on drugs, that he had seen a knife and that I had chased him from the house, slamming the door, locking him out. They charged me with a class c misdemeanor, that was dropped after a fearful weekend locked away. Now I am home trying to move past this horrid night/ weekend, but I’m falling back into the darkness.
– Mother of two
It took him being sent to jail with a no contact order, and a few months before she realized how toxic he was for her. She was lucky enough to make it out alive. From that point she numbed the feelings and tried her best to forget that year ever happened.
That year isn’t what this story is about. Not at all! It is where she learned to nurture her own heart. Days later she wrote another journal entry, promising to speak more lovingly towards herself, and vowed to not date another soul until she could be at peace within her own. So, however you slice it, that year sure helped birth the woman you see before you now.
Learning to follow my own inner voice, I became aware that I had always known exactly what I needed to do. Remembering to trust myself, for that is the truest love. I am the only one I have ever needed. Once I have that love, the rest will effortlessly fall into place, as long as I keep moving forward without judgment.