I have been in therapy in one way or another since I was 16. I have had many recommendations, have taken medications, and have had many tests to rule out medical issues. The consensus is Anxiety Disorder and PTSD. I always thought PTSD was only for those coming back from war. Anyways, there are many reasons for my Anxiety, but this is just a little story on how it all started…. (supposedly) I will be writing many parts of this, perhaps to banish it from my thoughts. After forty years, they are still with me Everyday.
Some are under the impression that those of us that suffer from Anxiety Disorder is that we lack enough serotonin in our brains or some such doctor speak. (Thanks for that, is there a test to be sure before you ply us with all of these medications)…..that’s another story.
This is not a story so one can think, ‘oh that poor kid’. It’s just a story. A true story. My birth mother took me back from my grandparents for a short time, maybe six years….who knows why, she did not want me that’s for sure….but she did. I loved my Birth mom very much and wanted to please Mommy in any way I could but I always fell short.
I was very small and probably under nourished because I was always hungry but was told I was not to get fat, but I was told I was fat..talk about conflict. I had hair cut like a boy and looked like a boy and am named like a boy. I knew I was a girl and hated all girly things pretty much. Maybe I was a disappointment because I was a girl. It was not stated but implied that I should have been a boy…..
I was told I was dumb, stupid, ugly, uncoordinated, fat….just think of any bad or negative connotation and I was probably told that, by both parents but mostly by my birth mother. Then when I was seven, she was diagnosed with MS. It was not a new disease, but one that was not studied much, nor diagnosed often. She went to several doctors before a wonderful neurologist finally got it right. My birth mom eventually had to quit work, and lost Her Life. Her husband, my Bastard Father, walked out on her, and her Boyfriend as well. Yes she was having an Affair for many years. I know this now, I had no idea he was her lover. I was seven!! Anyway, I had to take on the responsibility of grocery shopping every Wednesday after school. It was only about a mile, but I was terrified. I was afraid a dog would bite me, or someone would stop their car and take me, (now that I am older, I wonder why I was afraid of that)…..I was afraid of Everything, including not getting everything on the List. If I made a mistake and brought back the Wrong Item, I was hit with her cane. For Real. Bruises up and down my legs. I also had to take the laundry over to the next apartment building, carrying both the laundry basket and the detergent, and a stool, and wash our clothes. This is not, ‘I walked in the ice and snow five miles to school’ kind of story. It really happened. I had to make straight A’s or I was hit. She could no longer spank me, but believe me, her cane Hurt. I was not allowed to help in the kitchen with cooking because she said I was Too Dumb. She said I was the Reason She Got MS…..she said she hoped I Got It Too….
One of my jobs was to feed the guinea pigs and the rats. Yes Rats. They had Pet Rats. (no offense to those of you have pet rats, but Gross)….sometimes they would bite me and I was so scared of them. I had to clean their cages too. Yuck. But I did it without complaint because I knew if I didn’t I would get hit by the Damn Cane.
Now at seven, I did not really understand some of the terrible things she said; they were just words. I had no coping mechanism. I did not know anything except that I wished I had a brother or sister to be with me. I did know how to Read Thank God and read all the time, it was my escape.
In her defense, she was never loving nor ‘mother like’ but I think that she probably found herself at 27 in despair and I was an easy target. Maybe she did want me but didn’t know how to show it. I don’t know. We made peace before she passed and she did apologize with much love.
This is part one of Anxiety and me…..according to my wonderful psychologist that I don’t see anymore, this is one way that my Anxiety started…I was anxious All The Time at home. It’s true. I was.