The Worst Tragedies In Life Me As A Woman Went Through

Advisory: This post may be a bit long and if you appreciate hearing about the bad things that have occurred to others or you may need to find some support for read on my friends.

Some days are generally just harder than others. You can control yourself and show no outward signs of distress but internally there is a war. You do not always know why this war has erupted or why a certain thing has been triggered.

A lot of the time my trigger is the pregnancies I have lost. Something happens to you when you have gotten pregnant, been happy, so very happy, about it and then lost them. Forever are the memories of the physical pain that you felt when they were dying inside of you and when you almost died with them. The loss of energy, the sharp stabbing throbs from inside the womb letting you know you were literally feeling death inside you. Every time this happens in your brain, and it will over and over and over again, it brings tears to your eyes. 

I can remember my whaling when I knew. I just knew because I could feel it. I could feel my baby die. It is one of the worst things you could go through. I have been through a lot and I think it is why I have the serious triggers I do. I can tell you, but I will not describe it to you, I am still not ready, that I have been raped. I thought that was the worst thing to happen to me. I thought it had destroyed me for the longest time. I still to this day do not go out that much, or at least not alone because I do not trust many people. That affected me so deeply that I do not have many friends due to the circumstances of my abuse. I just simply do not trust many people. You should feel some honor if I have let you into my little circle of life I hold dear to me. I would only plead you don't destroy it. At any rate, losing those pregnancies was worse.

It may sound dumb to some people because they know women lose pregnancies all the time. Yet when you say women lose their babies all the time rather than they lose pregnancies it doesn't seem so cut and dry. It does not seem like oh she is simply 1 in 4 women. I LOST MY BABIES is what we want to cry out. It wasn't just a pregnancy it was our flesh and blood. It was our children we lost. Most of us never got to meet the children we lost. Regardless of your stand of whether life is sacred, if abortion is okay or not, if a fetus should have rights, when it happens to you, when you lose your pregnancy, no matter how far along you are you lost your child. I do not think I have ever written this thorough on the subject but I guess today is the day and I am not even sure why. Maybe because around this time two years in a row I had become pregnant. Maybe because I am sick of seeing women who lost their children, unborn or born babies, infants, toddlers, adult children whatever, as a statistic that stings every time. Or maybe it's a trigger from seeing so many murder and sexual abuse cases about children lately that it has triggered this. Or maybe, and this is definitely possible I see my two sisters with their children and sometimes it pulls those memories back to me.

Either way the triggers are there. Reminding you what you lost. I know there are many of us who lost our marriages or relationships along with those babies/children. Something was lost when that happened. At one point a bond was made for some of us. A tight bond with our lovers we never thought could be untied and then one day it fell to pieces. Losing the relationship is hard. It will never be easy especially if you were married and it takes time to repair yourself and for some of us longer because of circumstances in which it all ended. But you had already lost a part of yourself with those pregnancies and gained something new as well. Something changed internally, at least for me. Things I had thought were so important, so in my face, and so always there became nothing to me. I realized I had a dark tint on my eyes not letting me see the most vital things in life. So while to most I may seem like a very introverted loner, which I am totally, and I may even seem callous sometimes or shy, really things that are outside, like binge drinking or partying all the time or whatever thing I made more important than those things around me are now so futile and silly that I just let myself relax and take time to live. I gained an insight when I lost part of myself that not many people get or they do not accept. There is a way to be comfortable in the world without following everything everyone else does, or doing what you think you should be doing based on what has been spoon fed to you based on your society and culture. I even became more welcoming and satisfied with the way my appearance was. And I can tell you that was never true before. 

I can also tell you before losing those babies I was sometimes a wreck. Being raped can leave you feeling worthless about yourself. You may feel guilty for numerous reasons, disgusting, alone in a world filled with billions, suffering, and so so very blue. This can take over. It will destroy you if you do not get control of it. I would binge my way through life not giving any care for myself besides who I was around. I would drink until I couldn't remember. For the longest time I didn't, well I wouldn't talk about what happened to me or my response to it. I simply did not want anyone to know how vulnerable I was, or how vulnerable I made myself is really how I saw, and sometimes still do. Something clicked in my head though when I lost those pregnancies. Something told me that no matter what you are vulnerable and it is not a perfect thing but there is not much you can do. Your body will deceive you. It will hurt you and it will fail sometimes. Life will always do this to you. Because of this you need to realize what is truly important to you. Is it drinking all the time to rid yourself of your issues, or for some drugs? Is having a million and one friends truly important when you know that only a few are really going to be there always? Is it worth it to not love yourself? NO. It simply isn't. There are so many people who could read this and would be the ones to brush it off and not think twice about what they truly want in life. But I am not going to worry about them. They will either figure it out or simply will not.

I can say this though- having people who show you love, care, kindness, affection, happiness, hilariousness, sincerity, and true friendship (which is definitely also in romantic relationships) is where it is at. We can have great jobs, enough money to eat the greatest foods and wear the best clothes and drive the nicest cares but if you don't have sincerely loving people to enjoy it with it is worth nothing. If you do not simply have sincere and honest people around you who would be there always then your life is missing the crucial piece. We all need to love ourselves thoroughly and it can be so hard, and even harder to realize making BIG mistakes can just be a part of life that makes you better if you are good, but having those around you who are willing to help you realize that, or help pick up those broken pieces, or be the loving humorous friend who is just the person that accepts you for who you are you will feel alone and lost. 

I do not know if life ever gets easier for anyone. I doubt it. Even if you are rich and can pay for your problems to be solved more will arise. Remembering what is truly good for you what is wonderful in life is a gift. The pain I have endured throughout my life has not been easy. It in fact has been extremely challenging and it has negatively affected me in many ways. I still have these days were life seems helpless and I am down from what I have lost, or imagining what my life would be like with the babies I lost, even without my ex husband, and what kind of person I would be without those loses and without the rape. Death has occurred a lot in my life as well and I always wonder what if when it comes to them and it drags me into weird places that can be so depressing it is like having your mind locked in a dark damp disgusting cellar. But then, when all those tragedies build up and make life feel terrible, or like I am terrible, I remember they all made me who I am today.

I am humble to those who have donated to me to get me through rough patches, who have been by my side even when I seemed off my rocker, and simply just accepted me as a flawed, bipolar maniac at times and still loved me. While I would wish those things on no one and I would choose never to have to feel death inside me, or my own death looming, or being sexually abused in such a nasty way, it has made me stronger. It has made me courageous, honest, loving, caring, empathetic, affectionate, intelligent, introverted in just the right way for me, a non-alcoholic, a person wiling to give attention when you call upon me. It has also made me weird. It has made me find it necessary to find humor in small things and be a goof whenever I feel. It has caused some negative things- I sometimes am a hermit and do not want to associate with too many people in one day because for me it can be devastatingly exhausting, it has made me prone to social anxiety and even working anxiety, and has made me scared to ever want to get pregnant again or fall in love so deeply I make myself supremely vulnerable. Those things though are workable. Those things people who know me can understand why I do them. But the good things all people don't have or aren't willing to be. I am someone who experiences manic and mania and can accept the crazy in people and I usually gravitate towards it but others cannot do that or refuse to try and understand how to be there for you when you get that way but I have it because of all those tragedies in my life. So even when you feel lost in this world, alone, depressed, even suicidal think about how those negative awful things have made you somehow better or wiser because they have. Tragedies give us something we didn't have before while taking away a small part of us with them and that's OKAY. 


If you really read this whole post I thank you for being so generous with your time and hope I educated you, helped you, or at least somehow entertained you for the few minutes you had to read. 

Lea

Letting your vulnerability get in your way

It seems that every time I turn around someone is making me feel taken advantage of. I feel like I won't be able to trust someone for a long time (relationship wise). We all make mistakes that is true but sometimes when you have made the mistake a couple times you feel kind of stupid. You think someone actually cares, actually loves you, and then you realize that that's not really the reality of the situation. When those kinds of things happen and you feel like you've been duped or stabbed in the back you start to look at yourself. You wonder "What have I really done wrong?" or you wonder "Why do I let these kinds of things keep happening to me?". I feel that whenever I am vulnerable I let someone in and then it's just another mistake, my heart gets torn down and my trust violated. Quite honestly I feel abused. Not in a physical way but more emotionally. People I think I can trust turn out to be dishonest, or not trustworthy. They aren't loyal or genuine. Part of me feels that over the last few months my thinking processes have been fogged because of the bipolar and because of how unstable I was. Being open and sensitive left me vulnerable and I made a big mistake in thinking that the one person I thought would be most genuine wouldn't hurt me but he did. It just sucks. You bring me up but then squash me right back down and frankly I feel very used.

I know I am emotional but I don't ask much of the people I trust and care for. For instance, I ask that you don't betray my trust, stay loyal to our relationship whether it me a filial one, just a friendship, or an intimate relationship. I ask that if I want to chat and your busy to tell me that rather than ignore my call or text because I find that quite rude. I ask that you just respect me and I will respect you and when I am vulnerable or in a manic state or manic depressive state that you be genuine, trustworthy, and kind rather than be a façade of kind and then turn around and hurt me.

I have made these mistakes before where I put my trust in someone I really care for and/or love and I get crapped on. It feels horrible and I am really sick of it. I know I am an emotional person but I also know I am kind, supportive, genuine and trustworthy so when I don't get that in return and just feel I am getting hurt repeatedly over and over again it makes me wonder about myself. It's like I give trust too easily, and while I do think about my decisions it seems I don't always realize I am being manipulated, taken advantage of, or just being told the caring is real and then it seems it isn't at all. I don't appreciate people making assumptions about my past, hold me living my life against me like I wasn't supposed to live, holding my mental illness against me like I can just make it stop, or making me feel like because I have physical/mental issues that that means I am not worthwhile.

I was finally starting to feel good about myself, about my life and how it has turned for the better and then my trust got betrayed yet again. I feel stupid yes, but I also thought I could trust the person and it seems that was wrong. I put myself out there, I am open about who I am and how I feel and I am a very passionate person and that seems to either work wonders for my life or work to make me hurt all over again. It seems as of late I cannot win, I cannot have what I want in life, or I can't just be me and be accepted. But if those people can't accept me, cannot appreciate the person I am, and make up things about me or how I act than I don't want them in my life. I am not really stupid, yes sometimes I make stupid mistakes but I am clearly learning from them. Perhaps slowly but still I am.

You put yourself out there because you care, we all want love and friendship and intimacy, but sometimes those who we think are good for us really aren't. I am pretty stable but I have been swung into a manic episode. Not a full force manic episode but one nonetheless. It makes me want to be alone with my face in a book or simply around my family (which includes my closest friends like my friend Tina). I don't want to make the same mistakes. I don't want to be in a relationship for awhile because I need to work on me. I was just enjoying being happy and then apparently that was too much even though I didn't ask for anything serious. Just like my ex husband who said he couldn't give anymore even though I just asked for love and affection. So I guess before anyone gets too close to me again, in a way that they could easily hurt me, I need to really look at myself and figure out what I truly want. I am in the process of getting over being hurt deeply a few times and it feels like I am grieving for a loss and I am. I don't mind having friends come over, or going out to have a nice time, but I would prefer to have my wall up for awhile and be safely kept to myself.

Relationships aren't easy but sometimes we meet people who just can't be in one. Who can't be an adult or mature in the relationship and it's funny because I know I can overreact sometimes or be overly passionate, or want love so badly from the one I am with, but I as a mature woman respect what a relationship is. It's between two people and its give and take and compromise and understanding but not all people can handle relationships because they are unstable, or aren't emotionally mature, or aren't ready to be committed to being in a relationship that isn't always 50/50, that's not as easy as the movies make it seems, and not ready to deal with the hard things that can happen in life.

Being with me, having time with my family is the best way to keep my episodes to a minimum at this moment. I am taking my meds like I should, venting when I am extremely upset, writing this as a therapy, and realizing who I am and what I want and can't stand. Long term I only know this for when I am ready for a relationship- I want a nerd like me, that knows how a relationship requires attention and love and understanding, who can be a book worm with me, and me on my level intelligence wise and academically (that's not supposed to be an insult to anyone I just want my mind enriched). But until I am actually ready to bring my guard down I am completely okay with making sure I can make myself stable and keeping it that way while I am vulnerable from the loss I have had and the betrayal I have felt.

Never think you need someone else to make you feel whole. If you feel that way than mentally you aren't prepared for a committed relationship or even one that isn't as serious. Don't let yourself be manipulated or taken advantage of while you are feeling vulnerable. Just work on making yourself happy and understanding yourself first.

Thanks for reading my rant.

Lea

Diagnosis, and the 'Episodes'

There are millions of people out there suffering from some sort of mental illness be it depression, some sort of anxiety, OCD, schizophrenia, sociopath, psychopathy, PTSD, ADHD, Bipolar disorder, and so forth. Do you ever wonder what those people must be feeling? I certainly do. Are they feeling like I felt in my teens when I had no idea why I acted the way I did. I was told by friends and some family members that it was because my dad wasn't there, or because my father had had a temper but I knew that could not be it. I felt lost in a big world with a brain I didn't understand. When bad things came my way, no matter how big or small, it changed the way I felt instantly. I thought I was broken, something was wrong with me. I broke phones, glasses, pans, windows, my wrist, toes (from kicking things), hurt others with my vicious words, and struggled. I still struggle daily but at least now I know why and that makes it a little easier. I have learned to cope with having mental illness, and I have learned to be humble and apologize. I will never be able to stop myself from fixating on one thing that hurt me, or feel so hurt I fall deep down, and I won't be the typical average 'non-mentally ill' person (whatever that may mean). I will always struggle to hold my tongue, focus my mind on not raging or getting angry, and my greatest fear is I will never learn to cope with dealing with work everyday. I have a hard time coping with school 4 days a week, so I fear not being able to do what I want in life (unless I find a way to do it at home). I am going to present here a tale from my life that affected me forever. An event that affected me and caused my 'episodes' to start. While I am positive bipolar disorder is just in my genetic code because I have done therapy for this specific part of my life several times, I do believe this set me off earlier than if this hadn't happened. I am opening up on something I HATE talking about so please no harsh commenting, and at the end of this post you will understand why I telling you this. So here goes it.

As a young girl I was raped. I was 12 and he was 24. My friends and me went to a friend of a friends house and I had my first 40 (big mistake kids to think you are ready for that when you are not). In the end I was left passed out in some strangers bedroom. I awoke to a man, who was much bigger and stronger than me, maybe 6 Ft or so, on top of me. I looked around panicking, not knowing what I should do. Do I yell? If I yell he might hit me. Do I try and run? No he will probably hit me. And that's the answer I just kept coming to. My 12 year old body was drunk, and was so trapped and afraid of what was about to happen. Trying with all my might to get up from under him and I just felt paralyzed. Holding my one wrist he ended up getting the clothes off below the waist and here I am frozen in terror. I felt so horrified. I remember tears coming down the side of my face silently. I could muster up only the courage to say this "I'm a virgin please don't hurt me". The sick bastard smiled at that. I won't ever forget that look. EVER. My wrist was released but I had no power. My tiny short body was stuck under this disgusting piece of s**t. I wanted to die. I tried pushing him off me but realized the more I fight the more he will fight and I just waited. I waited to be set free. When I was I b lined my way out of that house. Dazed and not really knowing what just happened, what I should do, and where exactly I was I just started walking.

The worst part was I didn't want to say anything because I felt humiliated. I felt like nothing. I felt that what was special about me wasn't special anymore. I didn't know what to tell my friends, and I definitely did not know what to tell my mom. I simply said I lost my virginity to friends and mindlessly answered questions and the whole time I was doing this the image of me dying was in my mind. The image of me, at 12, dying was all I saw. I was so mortified I feared telling my friends the truth. I don't really know why but that's how I felt. My mom figured it out. I asked 'Do tampons break your hymen?" She immediately knew something was wrong. She asked me "Did you have sex?" I swallowed my vomit and said 'kind of'. She was starting to get the point. When I told her he was 24, told her my friends got me drunk, told her 'no I don't know if he wore a condom because I was not awake when he got atop me', she flipped like any mom would and took me to the police station.

I tell this story because this is what I thought caused all my issues. I'm sure it caused a lot, and I am sure it slowly formed my panic disorder, and my rage that usually is worse with men  but I do not believe it is what caused me to be bipolar, it only made my episodes worse. I look at my younger sister who is 12 and think about how tiny she is. She is strong, but she is tiny. She is a child. She is so innocent. Her skin has not met time yet and her body has not even taken shape yet. I am 28 and I look at her and see a baby. How any 'man' could look at a young child like that and watch them get drunk and then rape them is far past my ability to understand.

When I first saw a psychologist he asked me if I had every been abused in anyway and I shortly said yes, I was raped. I refused to talk about it because it always would throw me into an 'episode' as my mother would say. He backed off the subject and discussed how abuse affects the mentally ill, how holding it in exacerbates it, and how to try and combat my rage. Note: I went to a doctor finally because I was raging out on everyone so I needed help.

I had come to realize that I CANNOT let that disgusting worthless pos take me down. I may always have to deal with bipolar disorder and panic disorder, but I can get some control by not letting his actions control my outlook.

It took me a long time to realize that even though I can be absolutely nuts sometimes, that I do not deserve bad treatment, that I don't have to turn a blind eye to a douchebag boyfriend cheating, and that even with my crazy moments my mind is wonderful and I can offer something to this world because of my experiences. I can tell my story and hope it helps others. I know that what happened to me is awful but by working through it I helped my coping skills. Much more has happened to me since then that was not pleasant but it gave me perspective.

I sometimes do wonder though how would I be if that hadn't happened to me? Would I have lived differently? Would I have chosen the path I did as a teen? Would I have had such a bad bipolar break and panic disorder?

I answer these questions as such:

If that had not happened to me I may have lived a life without actual knowledge or understanding of what people are capable of. We all hear these stories and all see news videos of gruesome events but most of us think that will never happen to me, or we see it, recognize it, but have this strange habit of not really thinking of it as real. I dealt with this in reality so I have an inside perspective. I have more empathy for victims of all sorts of crimes, which makes me try and be moral and kind. However, my knowledge of this kind of abuse led me to realize how awful this world can be. Because I can empathize so much when people are mistreated I feel deeply. This deep feeling is ignited by bipolar disorder and I drown into a manic state. So deep I won't leave the house or I will go MIA and not talk to anyone but my mom and husband. So maybe if this hadn't happened my manic stages wouldn't be so severe, but I learned I have to find silver linings or I will become very sorrowful. So I am able to see the world in a different way than most; I see the world without blinders and that makes it easier for me to connect the dots in life.
This awful experience caused me to delve deep into my academics as a young teen. However, even though I was offered several full ride scholarships I turned them down. I was not ready. I had too much going on in my head and I had no clue what I would even go for. I ended up taking a couple classes here and there at the community college and hated it so I stopped. I worked under the table and learned a lot about what really happens in this world and not just what media wants us to think, or what materialistic people see. The world can be disgusting, greedy, addicted, and dirty but can also be moving, kind, and beautiful. Through this stage in life I could not control my illness. I would have 'episodes' all the time. I didn't like staying at one job for too long, hated working on a specific schedule, and hated having a boss. I couldn't cope with it. I was so dysfunctional. The psychiatrist put me on Abilify and Cymbalta which just put me into a sedative state, while the Cymbalta caused another manic episode. I soon learned I needed out of my real life lifestyle. I needed to get away from the guy I was dating who made me go crazy, and I needed to let my intelligent mind work.
I went back to university with a scholarship (6 or so years after high school I still got the scholarship). I have been to so many doctors trying to help me mentally and physically and I had seen the discrimination first hand.

I'm sure I am not the only tattooed bipolar person that has been drug tested with no reason to even suspect abuse (I never failed any of them). I also felt I was sometimes treated poorly or condescendingly because I was bipolar. One doctor refused to listen to me about how sick I was feeling and he insisted it was anxiety and a mania stage. I of course flipped out and he of course dickishly said "see it's just your bipolar disorder". The next day I had emergency surgery to get my appendix removed because it was about to burst. So my intentions are to advocate for patients via ethical systems. I am sick of feeling like I need to keep things hidden, or like I will be stigmatized or discriminated against just because I need specific meds. I don't want anyone to deal with all of the BS I have dealt with. I want to advocate for the mentally ill, especially when it comes to bipolar disorder as so many people have asked "oh come on are you really bipolar? I think that is just an excuse. Bipolar disorder isn't real is it?" That always hurts and reminds me why I like staying inside. But as my panic disorder progresses and I cope with rapid cycling bipolar I find myself more determined to tell people all about my experiences. It may take forever but if this helps one person it is worth it. If one person can learn what it feels like to deal with this it will be worth it. Every experience that drives my anxiety or throws me into an 'episode' gives me more perspective. Learning to deal with doctors is important too. So while I have here written a novel, it was to show that while many find it hard to express their problems, experiences, or how they were abused and how that affects them, that letting it out is helpful. It is calming. I find some peace from my minds antics when I write and I find sanctuary in books and others' writings about their experience. I am here to support anyone that needs it. I am writing to help myself and hopefully others. I am here to show those who think its not real, or an excuse, that it is more complex than they can imagine. And I want to write this so those that have someone who deals with bipolar disorder and/or panic disorder can maybe get an inside look on how we think, our process in thought, how we link things together, and perhaps then understand why certain things put together can make us snap. I wrote my long story today to shed some light on how I process when I am manic, to see how far I have come (or maybe not lol), and to recognize what is on my mind that I didn't realize was even causing my depression today.

I know this was long so thank you for reading this if you made it down to here
Pass the links to the posts along to those who may not understand bipolar or panic disorder but need to, or to those who are having a hard time coping. I am more than happy to try and give advice. Thanks

Lea Silva