While living with The Bastard and his wife, I was involved in all kinds of things at school. I was on the newspaper, played softball, had my own boat, danced all the time, had a bunch of friends and a job. I had a dog I loved named Killer. I wrote about him before. I also had a boyfriend. I was only 14.
He drove a beautiful cobalt Ford Truck and would follow me home. I thought he was a creep. He was my first love if you want to call it that…so…………..
I jumped out the window and hid under the pier, as we lived in a river town. There are Huge Bugs under bridges. I was so afraid that the Bastard would find out I was running away. I called my boyfriend and he came and got me and I stayed with his family.
He opened doors for me, told me I was pretty, said he loved me, and I thought I was out of the Abusive Life Forever……What I didn’t know was that he was a spoiled brat, lived off his parents, drank like a fish and beat his mother. He beat me too. He used his fist. I probably had concussions. I had black eyes, swollen lips and eyes and hurt all over. This abuse went on for 4 years.
I would run away to my grandparents house and then back to him. I went to several high schools and made good grades but missed too many days to pass. I dropped out. This boy was now my husband. I was 16. Instead of me embracing this wonderful boy and loving him with all of my heart, I began to hate him too. At 16, I discovered I was pregnant. He told me to get rid of it. So did his parents. My grandparents did not know, the Bastard was out of my life Thank God, and I never would tell my mother. I did it. That was the day I began to hate my husband. I hated him with every fiber of my being. I hated him because I wanted to have the child and give it up for adoption. The clinic ladies said that it really was not a life, it hadn’t started yet, that it was fine. It Was Not Fine. I am glad I felt the pain. I am glad I was Miserable. I deserved it. I was a door mat. There had to have been a way but a million years ago there weren’t too many choices I tell myself. I hated myself too. But I hated him more. The second pregnancy was taken care of because he kicked me so hard in my lower tummy that blood gushed out all over the place. He did that. Then he went off and got drunk and I had to go to the hospital with his mother and she was berating me all the way. I was Dead Inside. The third pregnancy The New Bastard was in jail Thank God. I was 18. I stood up to everyone. I told them all to go to Hell. My grandparents were not happy but provided shelter for my unborn child and I. I got my G.E.D., went to Business School and worked until my son was born. I was alone when I had him. In a blizzard. For 27 hours of labor. For Real.
Then single parenting, working, having another child with another failed relationship…age 24, married, divorced, 2 kids. That was me. Working two jobs when I could. My first child was so sick, I could not work two jobs much. Always worrying about how to keep them safe, to keep food on the table, oh yes I know all about it….trembling with fear when I came home, looking carefully for my ex husband because I was afraid he was going to kill me.
The Point: This 9 part story covers the basics of why I have Anxiety according to my last psychologist whom I saw for over ten years. He said that what was normal for me as a child was not normal for me as an adult. That I had to stop fighting everyone, take care of me first, add some interests and things I enjoy……he thinks the Anxiety started from the day I was born. I am writing this because maybe it will help others.
I am of course happily married for the most part to the hubs for over twenty years and had four more kids. We have had some very low times which I will probably never write about.Some of them almost killed me. I would have killed myself if not for leaving my children behind. That is a true statement. I am not sure anyone in my family knows that. But believe me, we have had some Bad Times. He never beat me, nor cheated that I know of, but there are worse things believe it or not….
When younger, I was so busy trying to survive, I didn’t recognize that Anxiety was always with me. Now that I am old, I recognize my arch enemy: Anxiety and hate him too. (notice I give Anxiety a male gender…no offense to male readers I am not a man hater just made bad choices)……There is a Part 10 for spousal abuse..
So apparently this is why I struggle with all things Anxiety on the Daily….