Survivors of Abuse
I am a survivor (according to dictionary.com). I am "a person who continues to function or prosper in spite of opposition, hardship, or setbacks." Evidently, I come from a long lineage of survivors of an apparent generational curse of various types of abuse - drug abuse, alcohol abuse, sexual abuse, domestic abuse, spiritual abuse, child abuse...I could go on. I didn't really know all of this about my family until I was well into my adult years because I was not raised around any of my extended family as a child. We would visit occasionally, but even that slowed down to practically non-existent after we moved from California to Kansas when I was an early teen.
As an adult, because of numerous health issues (that many people don't have to deal with until they are in their 60's or later) I don't feel well most days; however, I am still living, breathing, surviving, and I have enough of every single thing that I need for today. I am thankful for that. I use every remaining bit of my energy to remind myself of that...everyday that it happens. Which, so far, has been every single day.
I haven't always been thankful for everything that I have. There was a time in my life...have been times in my life (mostly when I was younger - a teenager)...when I just wanted to die. I never really had the courage...or stupidity - depending on how you look at it...to kill myself. I contemplated stepping out in front of moving traffic...figured none of the traffic moved fast enough in Liberal, KS, to actually kill me...probably would only scare me, make me look like a fool, and possibly bang me up pretty good if I timed it just right. Then, I thought maybe I could just crash into something while going fast in my car without wearing a seatbelt, but I didn't want to hurt anyone else, destroy any property, or worst of all...survive...so I X'd that method off the list.
Rewind...one time, in junior high, before we even moved to Kansas, I had this little pocket knife that I wanted to hurt myself with. One of my friends took it from me and wouldn't let me have it back. I don't know if I could have actually hurt myself with it, but I just never forgot that gesture...how she took time to show she cared. We are still in touch today, howbeit with miles and miles and years and years between us, but hey, that's what social media is best for, right?!
Fast forward back to Kansas. There was a period of time in my life that I basically tried to drink myself to death during my late teens and early twenties. Back then, it was easy for underage kids to get alcohol in Liberal, KS, if you knew the right places to go. Additionally, you may or may not be surprised at the number adults of legal drinking age that have no problem with buying liquor for minors. I thought it was all a great idea then. Now, not so much. Don't get to thinking it's because I have "grown up" or anything because I really haven't...lol. Well, maybe just a little.
Then, there were all the times that I "tested" God and behaved in a manner that I thought would make Him kill me - drunkenness, promiscuity, cursing and vulgar language, wearing pants...yes, I said wearing pants...but that is a whole "nother" story for an entirely different day. I even tested other people with just plain rudeness and lack of manners hoping they might just snap and to the dirty deed of ending my life for me. And I don't mean testing the grocery store clerk...I mean testing the meanest, drunkest, obnoxious, male or female, in the bar, at the party, in the park, just wherever I happened to be.
Nothing worked, and here I am. Surviving. Some days are easier than others. Most days just blend and melt together with one crisis after another to break through the fog of depression and anxiety. I seem to have reached a point where living seems to consist of managing the present crisis and preparing for the next crisis all at the same time...bouncing back and forth between curling up and staying down or getting up and going at it for one more round...but that's not really living...that's merely surviving. Barely. And I'm doing it.
Fight, Flight, or Freeze
I haven't always existed solely in survival mode. There was a time, as a child, that I lived a charmed life...oblivious to the dirty deeds and evil ills of the world. As a child, I never worried about where my next meal would come from, where I would lay my head at night to rest, or having nice clothes to wear. We didn't have everything, but we had enough, and it was nice. Yes, I was a rather spoiled child. I never heard my parents curse. I attended church several times a week. I made good grades in school. I had enough friends.
Then, we moved to Kansas. It is during this period of my life when my story of survival begins. The journey from which I have gained my perspective. It is this story, made up of all the little stories, that I want to tell the world. I'm not going to tell my whole story right here, right now, today. But I hope you will check back from time to time to see what I have shared about the following topics:
- Sexual Abuse & Promiscuity
- Domestic & Child Abuse
- Substance Abuse
- Legal Issues
- Single Parenting
- Depression and Anxiety
- College and Graduate School
- Home Ownership
- Religion & Spirituality
- Smoking Cessation
- Miscellaneous Topics and/or Current Events
These topics and more are all a piece of my story of survival. I am just getting started telling my story, so please be patient with me. It really isn't all that easy of a thing to do.
I understand that it is probably more important to listen and learn than it is to speak. So, I welcome you to offer your own unique perspective(s) in the comment sections of this blog and/or any of my other blogs. I encourage you to speak openly, honestly, and passionately with intelligence and respect. I most likely will not respond to any comments that I think are rude or distasteful, and I may or may not allow them to be displayed. I am an advocate of free speech, but I prefer hateful speech not be spoken on my pages.
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