Lwmt

I have had many extreme ups and downs in my troubled life. I am happy to share my journey in hopes that it can help others deal with similar issues. You can read a more detailed version of my life story in my blog/.(**Add internal link here to the blog)/ Below, I am just giving you an overview, so you get an understanding of all the different types of trauma I have experienced in my life so far. 

The Early Years

I almost drowned at age 5 but was saved by a stranger. I was homeschooled in first grade and my parents were extremely strict. I wasn’t allowed to listen to rock, rap, pop, or any music that wasn’t soft Christian praise music. I had a sister and a younger brother. In second grade I was sent to a Christian school. During that time, my father became more violent towards me and my family and was physically and mentally abusive. 

He also believed in government conspiracies, so fear, worry, and anxiety was our way of life. After my dad threatened my mom, she decided to finally leave him and put me into counseling. Everything I thought I told the counselor went right back to my mother and I would get yelled at. I felt betrayed and learned to not trust people at the young age of 11.

Mom worked full time and came home tired and there were a lot of problems not only at home but with dad. My parents made me the go-between for them, so they didn’t have to communicate with each other. I began to seclude myself in my room to escape the chaos at home.

High School

I was the youngest, as well as short with facial acne, so I got picked on, harassed, and pushed down frequently in high school. I was 13 the first time I held a knife and contemplated suicide. I sat in my closet and sobbed holding the knife to my wrist. I slowly started to cut (not deep, but enough to leave a mark). That was only the beginning of it.

Around the same time, mom told us kids was tired of raising us. “I’m done raising you kids. You had your time and now it’s my time,” she said. That was the end of any good relationship between her and me. Anger, bitterness, resentment, and absolute hatred would soon take over. My brother was only 8. How was he supposed to raise himself? I’d find him eating a bag of chips for dinner because our mom didn’t make dinner anymore. Dad got a new wife and moved to another state in the southern half of the U.S. My mom saw this as an opportunity to start (her life) over. She decided to take us out of everything we had known and move to Florida. I didn’t like it there, but it didn’t matter to her. I blamed my mom for destroying my life and wanted her dead!

Discovering College and My Health

While visiting my dad in his new home, I began to have Grand Mal seizures, where your muscles tighten and your body shakes and convulses. When I awoke, the paramedics were there. I struggled to walk because my muscles hurt so much. I was epileptic. My dad was annoyed that I was too sore to do anything, and years later he would tell my sister that I was demon possessed after seeing me like that. It’s always comforting to know your own father believes you to be satanic.

I was now 18 and couldn’t drive. I started watching a preacher on Facebook and began praying and asking Jesus to save me. I applied to a Christian college and got in with several scholarships. I felt God had provided in a special way. My seizures were still not under control so I would still periodically have them. In my 3rd semester of school, I had a seizure every 10 days or less.

I applied for a cheaper college as I was trying to pay for college at $8/hour at a job while getting good grades. Mom and dad weren’t paying for school, so it was up to me. Trouble at home arose while I was at school along with the pain of losing my grandparents the previous semester. My grades had been falling for some time and I became depressed. I decided I had no desire to live anymore and overdosed with prescription drugs and over-the-counter medications. I changed my mind and quickly told someone on my floor what I had done so they could help me.

Seeking Professional Help

It was hard at work and also hard at home. I couldn’t find a way to handle it and began searching online for a counselor. I found a counselor that was extremely helpful and had weekly sessions. She couldn’t officially diagnose me with PTSD, depression, childhood trauma, or anxiety because she wasn’t a psychiatrist, but I had a lot of the symptoms. I got good advice and learned coping skills, so life seemed manageable, but hard.

Life at home felt so bad that I would sleep on a street or in a Starbucks. I couldn’t handle the yelling and screaming. It triggered flashbacks and memories and nightmares for me, and it was unbearable. I soon found out I was suspended for a semester due to poor grades. I was horrified. I needed to graduate and get out of this home.

Another couple of months went by and I couldn’t take it anymore. I talked to my counselor, put in my two-week’s notice at work, and said goodbye. I began to pack my things. My mom asked what I was doing and I told her I had found a place and would be leaving. 

I had no furniture at my new place. The landlord allowed me to borrow an extra bed and bookshelf. I could only afford $20 a week for food. At times, I couldn’t even afford jelly so I would just have a peanut butter sandwich.

Spring came and I was allowed to return to the strict Christian college. I couldn’t get a loan without a co-signer but luckily credit card companies don’t feel the same. I charged my bills to credit cards and slowly paid it back. I worked hard and finished school.

I had gone to see a psychiatrist to get an official diagnosis for PTSD, depression, and anxiety. He offered me medication to help cope. I refused because as a child I remember my mother trying to cope with her anxiety and often, she would increase her dosage because it wasn’t enough. I was afraid I would become addicted like she was. 

When My Life Changed

In August 2017, I attended an interview at a school to possibly get a master’s in counseling. On the way home, something terrible happened. There were no streetlights, no crosswalks, or an intersection where I was. The road seemed empty. As I was driving, suddenly my windshield cracks and blood came through it. I had hit a person who was wandering into the road and was also very inebriated. 

The next morning, I filed a claim with the insurance company. I couldn’t feel anything. My emotions and body had gone numb. I wanted to feel something, anything, because in that moment I wasn’t sure if I was dead or alive. I had matches in my room and lit one and put it on my arm. I barely felt anything, but it left a permanent mark.

It was too much for me to handle. I called a friend who was a counselor and he called 911 and sent them to my place. At the hospital, I was struggling to communicate with the doctors. I just wanted to be better and for this to not have happened. I wanted to wake up and it all be a terrible dream. The recommended I go to a place called “Friends.” What I didn’t realize is that it was a psychiatric hospital. A patient there was yelling that he was going to hurt people. I absolutely had to leave that terrible place. All I wanted was to get away and relax. I was traumatized at that hospital after being traumatized at the accident after being traumatized as a kid. How much trauma can one take?

Trying to Move On

Trying to return to work was problematic. Because I was on disability, I had to get a psychiatrist to approve me to go back to work. I found out my counselor was leaving the state and found another one that used new techniques for trauma therapy. One of the main techniques is called Brainspotting. As I started this new therapy, healing began to take place and new coping skills were formed. I still faced a lot of challenges and struggled to not be depressed off and on.

Around Christmastime, I was helping out at my church and was going home when I approached a green light. Suddenly, a van coming the opposite way took a left turn in front of me. My car slid into the van and bent my door so I couldn’t open it. My back hurt. Bystanders told me not to move until paramedics arrive. I went to the hospital and got an MRI. They found permanent damage to my back. It completely changed how I’ve done things and how long I can sit, stand, and walk and what I can lift and do. I sought a lawyer for my car accident regarding my back injury and eventually got a settlement.

I was still helping out at my church but felt I was doing most of the work when we held events, including most of the organizing and all the cleaning up. There was also segregation happening in these church groups that I didn’t think was right. I talked to the assistant pastor to see what could be done. I was told by the pastor I was “a burden” because someone from the group had to drive me to the hospital again for the third time in two years due to seizures. They told me they thought it best I simply didn’t return. I went home feeling unwanted everywhere and depressed. I called in sick and decided I had enough of life. I had cut myself plenty of times as a teen with no success. This time would be different.

I took drain cleaner and mixed a lot into a small amount of water. I left a note letting people know I couldn’t live with the memories of the accidents, the relationship with my mom, and how unwanted I was by even my church group. As I put the cup to my lips, someone began knocking on the door. My friend came in and called 911. I was sent to a facility that was different than the one from before. I had lots of classes with other patients and was given a low dosage of medication to help with anxiety. After a couple of days, I was able to speak again. I made friends and started to recover.

I got approved to go back to work and explored other churches. A coworker told me about her church. I decided to go to the young adult’s function and every person there was so welcoming. I had been to multiple churches and never experienced this. I joined the men’s group and began attending the church regularly and made it my home.

I had been helping people in different places with my story and was told over and over I needed to share my story. I decided it was time and purchased this domain, began to build it, and then the 2020 coronavirus hit.

I’m still on this incredible journey at age 30 and excited to see where things go. I’m still in counseling and my counselor says I’m in the best condition she’s seen me since I came to her office. Hopefully my story encourages and inspires you wherever you are in your journey to keep going and be strong.