The Past Is There For A Reason – You Don’t Need To Go Back To It

Don’t look back, “There is a reason our eyes face the same way as we walk” I read this post and it was amazing! I really enjoyed it and I think it applies so much to how we should live our lives.

A Mixed Bag

As we got through life, things happen that teach us lessons. Whether they be good things or bad things, they still teach us a valuable lesson. We can be taught how to love, how not to love. How to smile, how not to smile. When to be quiet, when to be loud, and above all, that we are ourselves. There are times that we are taught that some relationships, some times some places that we don’t go back to. If you look back on them times and think “everything is going to be like that” then you are revisiting the past and letting it have a hold on you. If you look back and think “every time I do this, that will happen” or “every time I see this person, then this will happen”, you are staying in the past. You don’t need to do that. If you look behind…

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Daily Post – Bringing Me Back to Childhood

WordPress Post A Day – It was sunny when you left home, so you didn’t take an umbrella. An hour later, you’re caught in a torrential downpour. You run into the first store you can find — it happens to be a dark, slightly shabby antique store, full of old artifacts, books, and dust. The shop’s ancient proprietor walks out of the back room to greet you. Tell us what happens next!

 

I hate umbrellas!  I absolutely do!  This rain, did it have to rain though?  It was perfectly sunny earlier, ugh I guess I really do need to start watching the weather report.  – I think these things to myself.  I look around the dreary, antique shop, the owner appears. “Hello!”

‘Um, hi!  I really don’t want anything.  I’m sorry, I just had to get out of the rain,” I explained.

“Ok, ok.  Well look around.  There are still lots of fun things around here.  Old things, things that might bring you back to your past.”

I decide, what the heck – I’m stuck here, I might as well do something than stare out the glass door at the rain.  So I walk around, there is actually quite a mixture of things – lots of old dishes, chinaware, depression glass, pottery, music instruments, but what really caught my attention was a toy. 

I’m not antique, I’m not even old, or I don’t think I am. It brought me back to childhood though, when I was carefree.  Whenever I played with this, I was happy, I wasn’t sad.  It was this giant spinning top! I am not sure how else to explain it.  I could sit and watch it for hours.  In the middle, you pushed up and down on a stick which made it spin around on its base.  Mine was pink with swirls of yellow and orange.  I had it when I was about 5 until 8, but I took it everywhere, including out in the rain (what a coincidence!), so it became quite rusted and quit working. 

He was right, looking around did bring me back to my past.  A time when I was happy.  The rain stopped and I was free to go, to get out of the dark store.  I couldn’t leave that top behind though.  It had brought me so much happiness and maybe I needed it again now, to remind me that sometimes I just need to step back and have some fun, to look at the little things in life.  So I paid for the top, thanked the man for the shelter, and went on my way.

original_giant-spinning-top

Found on: NotOnTheHighStree.com

 

All too often, I don’t have good thoughts about my childhood.  I think of all the bad things, the fights, the arguments, the depression, and abuse.  I don’t think of the things in between that I held on to, the things that kept me going. My toys were one of those things.  As a kid, they are an escape for you.  As you get older, it is usually your friends. As a kid though, your toys mean so much to you!  That giant spinning top – it really took me out of my thoughts.  I was mesmerized by it. It really didn’t do much but sit there and spin, but I could play with it for hours.  It is really amazing how much a toy can bring such joy.  When I look back on my life, I realize I need to try and focus on some of my happy thoughts now.  To balance out all the negatives that I am having to deal with during therapy, I also need to focus on some of the positives.  The good people that have been there for me, the things that did get me by, the hobbies I had, the healthy escapes that I used.  I made it this far, and I did that somehow.  I need to focus on those positives – and not just on all the negatives.  If I simply focus on all of my trauma while going through therapy, it will be hard, it will be incredibly hard.

My Story

I had no idea what was going on with me.  I was 10 and sad.  But I wasn’t just sad.  I was really sad.

I was 11 and I wanted to die.  I planned on how to die.  Our school was taking a trip to Six Flags and I wrote out my suicide note, and I put it in my backpack and I was going to kill myself at the park.  My mom found it though, she asked me if she needed to keep me home.  I said I was fine and went to catch my bus.  It was never talked about again.

I was 13 and still really sad.  Suicide still ran rampant in my head.  My art teacher found out.  He found out about my home life.  I trusted him. I thought he would help me.  He said he was going to.  But he took advantage of me.  He made me do things to him.  He did things to me.  He verbally abused me.  He sexually abused me.  He hurt me.  I believed all his lies. He molested me and hurt me and fucked me up so bad.  I wanted to die more than ever before.

I was 14 and moved to a new city. Life was worse than ever before.  A new school and no friends. My school counselor found out about what my teacher did.  Chaos broke out.  I didn’t want to deal with it.  I began cutting. I did not tell the police everything. He was never charged. My depression became more severe. I became sick from stress. I missed more than half the school year and stayed home because I was “sick.”

I was 15 and 16 and 17 and high school happened. My depression trapped me.  I faked my smiles and I wore my mask.  I immersed myself in school work.  I tried to pretend like I was happy and make myself believe I was. Deep down I was choking, I could barely breathe. Every day I planned my death. I didn’t even believe I would make it to graduation. Surely I would do something before then.

Graduation came and went. I was 18. College was a new start. Surely life could start over now. I was raped. My mental health went down hill. For the first time in my life I was put into counseling. I couldn’t talk though. I didn’t know how to express myself. I isolated more than ever. I cried more than ever.

Therapy continued and I made no progress, but I just kept going.  I kept my emotions in for so long that I just avoided everything. I turned 21 and my life went upside down. My arm was paralyzed. I lost control. Again. The molestation. The rape. My arm.  I had lost control again. I needed to die now. My depression consumed me.  The year was 2009.

Trigger Warning –  the next paragraph mentions a suicide attempt


 

I had many suicide attempts.  My worst was in May 2012 though.  I had strategically overdosed on Tylenol.  After being given the antidote (Mucomyst) and Reglan, both of which I had reactions to, I was transported to the ICU where I spent 4 days before being sent to the psychiatric hospital.  This was not my first time in the ICU but it was the worst attempt I had.  And it was also somewhat of a wake up call. It was my last attempt, but not my last visit to the psych hospital.

Between January 2011, my first psychiatric hospitalization, and October 2012 – I had 15 psychiatric hospitalizations and ended up with three diagnosis (bipolar, PTSD, and borderline personality disorder). On that last hospitalization I was committed for 6 months to the state hospital.  I was terrified, but at the same time, I was so frustrated and sick of life, I really didn’t care what happened to me.  I was so sure that I would kill myself no matter what anyone did and that I had no future, that it didn’t matter to me.  The state hospital was the best thing that happened to me though.

On Halloween of October 2012 I went to the state hospital via the backseat of a Sherriff’s car. It was a two hour drive and it took me to a life changing experience.  I had the best psychiatrist, psychologist, nurses, rec therapist, music therapist, group therapists, psych techs, dietician, and other support staff possible.  They were all determined to get me and others back on the right track. I left the hospital in April 2013 more stable than I had been in a long time.  On the correct combo of meds and with coping skills that I actually felt comfortable using.

Today, in 2014, I still struggle.  I have been hospitalized since being out of the state hospital.  But in no way am I in and out like I was two years ago.  I take my medication and I acknowledge that I need it.  I accept that I have a mental illness and I try to educate myself about them.  I attend therapy and participate in it actively.  I am working through my PTSD which has been a huge factor in my hatred of myself and life.  I am always working on improving and finding new coping skills.  I continue to attend my support groups.

I know I can continue to fight.  I know I don’t have to let it consume me anymore.  I don’t have to let it win. It still knocks me down sometimes.  I just have to make sure I keep getting back up.