I’m Not Normal and I Never Will Be. (approx. 2½ min. read)

So this past weekend my husband and I were supposed to go to his best friends daughter’s wedding. It was really important because Gary never had children of his own and this young girl has been much like a daughter to him.

When we got the invite I immediately said "yes." I knew it was an important day and when it comes to important dates I try to tell myself I should be able to be “normal” for one day, and in some cases I can do it ...it just depends on what’s been going on in my life at the time.

Leading up to the date wasn’t so bad but when it was less than a week away, everything went to shit. I started dissociating, became hyper-critical about everything and as usual Gary took the brunt of it.

It’s like a switch goes off in my head and I don’t seem to have control over my anxiety or my thoughts ...and I find fault in everything!

As Friday got closer I got more hyper-critical, more hyper-vigilante, and I started having nightmares and was afraid to go to sleep. Friday morning I couldn’t take the anxiety anymore and reached out to Bonnie; a friend I’ve known for forty years.

Bonnie knew the wedding was going to be an issue when I first told her about it. She asked me why I continually put myself through this kind of anxiety and I told her, for probably the hundredth time that I just wanted to be normal.

Bonnie laughed at me. She said, “But you aren’t Dee and I don’t mean that in a bad way, but you aren’t normal. You have PTSD and it’s time you stopped beating yourself up for trying to be something you aren’t!”

I started crying because I knew she was right. She told me she loved me and made me promise I’d go and talk to Gary as soon as I hung up the phone.

We talked for a few more minutes and then I hung up. I tried to dry my eyes and then went and sat down beside Gary; he was out back sitting under the walnut trees. I told him about the conversation I’d just had with Bonnie and he totally agreed with her. He said he knew it might upset the bride and her family, but my health was more important and we would make it up to them.

And it should have been over at that point. Gary had said it was fine, and it was for him but not for me. I was so worried that I’d let everyone down, something I hate doing, and I just couldn’t stop beating myself up.

...Looking back I know they’re right; I’m not normal and I never will be. And if they can love and accept me for not being normal, I need to love and accept myself as well.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.

I’m so Angry I Could Spit! (approx. 2 min. read)

I got the first edit of my book back and as it all draws to a close, I can’t help but look back and reflect on the last year or so. It’s been hard bringing forth all of the horrible memories; I thought getting them onto paper would be cathartic, but it’s proving to be quite frustrating.

There’s been a lot of criticism regarding my book and my blog, mostly from my family of origin, but I’m not allowed to quote any of it without hand written permission. And honestly, I’m having a really tough time with that!

Individuals have been writing me malicious emails, texts and messages, as well as writing some incredibly cruel comments (on my website), and I’m powerless to make the rest of the world aware of what is going on!

I’m not allowed to quote any comments, emails, letters, texts, etc. that were written to me, even when they’re signed by the people that wrote them?! Honestly it feels like the trauma is just continuing because people; some of them my abusers are slandering me publicly I can’t call them on it. It just doesn’t make any sense...

How the heck are we ever going to end the stigma when the wrong guy is being protected?!

I thought that if you were telling the truth, you could say whatever you like, but I’m not even allowed to name names in my own book. Which is really discouraging because I thought “truth” would prevail and the people who harmed me would pay for what they did to me ...but how will they if I can’t name them - where’s my justice?!

Sure I can take these individuals to court and sue them for slander and defamation of character, but we all know who wins in court cases and it isn’t the victim or the perpetrator, so does that mean the perpetrator is going to get away with bullying the victim - again?!

I’m honestly so angry I could spit!!! Enough is enough; it’s time the bad guy is punished, don’t you think?! It’s time we change the set of rules we have for bully’s and end the stigma around mental illness! We need to stop protecting the people that are persecuting us, especially if they are the reason for our mental illness.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following!

I Feel like I’m Moving Backwards... (approx. 2 min. read)

We’re in the middle of a move, and even though I shouldn’t be I’m completely stressed to the max! I’ve moved a lot in my life and although I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve moved, it’s up over twenty times! I’m not sure why it’s been so many times but it has.

It could be because I believe life is too short and if you’re constantly arguing with someone about the same thing, it might be time to distance yourself from that person. Besides, I despise confrontation and believe that if I’m always having the same argument with someone; it means I’m just not compatible with that person; and if we’re not compatible then one of us has to leave.

Needless to say I got really good at moving, and I could pack and move at the drop of a hat. I never really wanted to move but circumstances kind of got in the way.

Which brings me to this move...

It’s a different move in that it’s not a “break-up” move, but it’s still a move. I’m still having to pack things up, get rid of things that are extremely sentimental to me, and make a lot of changes; and I want you to know it doesn’t matter what the reason is - moving is stressful - period!

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been wandering around crying at just about everything because the thought of moving is so anxiety provoking. I’m having to shower multiple times because my body is drenched in stress sweat and my face is breaking out like it did when I was a teenager!

I thought moving into this house would be my last move (out of necessity) and if we ever moved from here it would be out of choice, but I was wrong. And I know theoretically we aren’t moving out of our little house, just into the basement, but it feels like a step backwards instead of forward.

My husband was put out to pasture after almost 30 years of service and has been unable to find another job that even comes close to what he was earning. So the little home we made for ourselves; a place we love and a place I’ve been able to call home for the second longest in my life is no longer ours.

And I know I should be grateful because we’ll still have a roof over our heads, and we’re still together and very much in love, but it’s not the same. I loved where we were living and part of me believes that if I was able to get out there and function like a normal person; we’d be moving forwards instead of backwards.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.

We Still Have a Long Way to Go to #EndtheStigma! (approx. 2½ min. read)

It seems I have a long way to go to end the stigma around mental illness; especially suicide.

You see, there was another suicide attempt on the Skyway Bridge near where I live and instead of there being nothing but support and compassion for the jumper, there were derogatory comments all over social media. Things like - “Is the Skyway closed so this moron can choose to jump from either side of the bridge,” “Attention seeker, jump already,” and “Couldn’t he just kill himself at home and not ruin everyone else’s day?”

Really?! There was a human being feeling so desperate and desolate that he believed the only way to end his pain was to jump off a bridge and end his life; and instead of feeling compassion and wanting to help, people were calling him a moron and telling him to jump?!

Pardon the language, but what the fuck is wrong with some people?! Mental illness is no more a choice than picking who your parents are, or what colour your skin is! Furthermore, how could suicide be an attempt at getting someone’s attention ...just think of the consequences?!

A person is suicidal, and they’re reaching out and no one listens. You call the local crisis centre and the volunteer answering the phone fumbles it and hangs up on you. You call back and it goes through to the answering machine ...it’s been ten months and they still haven’t called me back, but that’s another blog.

Then you try to reach out to family, but they just say you’re trying to get attention and look the other way.

You believe in your head they’re treating you this way because you’re a disappointment and they would be so much better off without you and your drama in their life. So you make your suicide plan and you succeed.

Now what? How much attention do you think that person that committed suicide is going to get?! They’re lying in a pine box with their eyes sewn shut, waiting to be placed in the ground, AND buried under six feet of dirt! Do you still think that “disappointment” killed him/herself to get your attention?!

They’re dead! There’s no attention being directed at them because they’re gone from this world and there’s no coming back for a do-over, or to see if anyone is listening this time!

It really hurts my heart to think there are still people that make it so hard for people like me to keep our heads up. They tell us we’re unworthy of living, yet when we think the only choice we have is to die, they criticize us for that as well!! 

Come on people, try to have a little compassion and learn about the stigma around mental illness instead of criticizing someone in their time of need, or turning the other cheek.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.

P.S. Sorry for the language, but I’m very passionate about this topic. 

Anniversary Month... (approx. 2½ min. read)

If you’ve been following my blog you know it was the 11th anniversary of the day that “changed my life forever,” three days ago.

Since that fateful day my life has changed and although in the beginning I thought my life had changed for the worst, it’s turned out to be one of the best things that have happened to me.

In the beginning the questions and doubt started coming from everyone and everywhere; was I really diagnosed with PTSD or did I make it up?

I went to Doctor after Doctor to find out the answer to these questions because even the people that knew, and loved me doubted the diagnosis I kept getting. 

Unfortunately after five diagnoses and five years of therapy it turned out that yes, I did in fact have PTSD and that I didn’t make it up.

After my diagnosis my life really did change...

I had to make the choice of whether I did self-care, or whether I did family-care.

I had to decide if I wanted to hide my PTSD symptoms from close friends and family as to appear normal, or seek out the help I needed to keep me this side of the grass.

I had to learn how to cope with my new reality and figure out how to do everything for myself because other than a small group of people, most people turned their backs on me.

I had to learn how to function with a new brain; one that was/is completely damaged from trauma.

I had to defend myself EVERY (single friggin’) day to friends and family when they accused me of lying and faking.

I had to deal with health issues (Type II diabetes, shingles, central serous retinopathy) brought on by the stress from not being believed.

It’s been really, really friggin’ hard, but somewhere during the last eleven years I figured out how to get through this new life that has been thrown at me and...

I went back to school to become a medical laboratory technician and graduated with honours.

I learned that I was really smart and that my looks weren’t the only thing I had going for me; I really could “do the math.”

I found a really good support group.

I found out who my true friends and family are, and distanced myself from anyone and anything that's toxic.

I started a website/blog to help end the stigma around mental health.

I started to speak openly about how PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and mental health has impacted my life; as well as how I manage the day to day stressors thrown at me by society.

I became a writer by having my first article published in Moods Magazine, and I’m getting close to having my first book published.

...And the most important thing - I’ve learned how to love myself for who I am.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.

Music and it's Effect on Me. (approx. 2 min. read)

I’ve been having a few issues with my health and I thought it would be a good time to share one of the ways I use to (try and) keep my stress levels in check. It doesn’t work all the time, but in all honesty it would work if I could figure out how to cut myself some slack and learn how to relax more - lol!

When I get up in the morning, the first thing I do is turn on the stereo; even before I write in my gratitude journal, and it plays all day. That way when my mind is idle my thoughts immediately go to the words of the song currently playing ...instead of my thoughts being able to focus on the negative thoughts/flashbacks bouncing around inside my head.

For the most part it works and I’m able to control my thoughts and be productive, but there are times when I need to completely lose myself and just listening to music doesn’t work; I have to immerse myself in it.

So I turn on my entertainment centre and look for my favourite songs on You Tube. Once I find them I crank up the sound, hit play and wait for the “ear worms” to come bouncing through the speakers and into the air surrounding me ...it’s almost euphoric!

Sometimes I just sit and watch the videos, sobbing when certain words strike a chord in me, and other times I dance like “nobody is watching!”

Singing at the top of my lungs; not caring whether I’m in tune, or even if I’m getting the words right! Letting the music course through my veins, while I concentrate on nothing but the melodic sounds filling the air around me!  

I allow myself to feel each beat and with each beat I visualize my pulse blending with the music to push out the poison (stress) coursing ahead of it and it’s not long before I’m completely lost in the music ...swaying ...twirling ...spinning.

Slowly, but surely the anxious thoughts that had been dominating my mind become a distant memory and the negative energy that was controlling me is replaced with positive energy - it truly is magical. Hope it is for you too.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.

I Think I’m Having Copyright Issues, but You Be the Judge! (approx. 2½ min. read)

So ...it’s been an incredibly stressful week, but what else is new?!

I’ve been trying to get some information from biological family regarding some poetry/letters that I wrote after my parents split up, but I’m being told that I can’t have them until they have a written letter from me “guaranteeing that they (the letters/poems) will stay as totally private communications” from me to them. I was under the impression that the letters/poems belonged to me, because I wrote them??

The letters were written over the period of about five-ten years and in my mind, they were a desperate attempt at getting someone - anyone - to listen to what was going on at “home.” I was being abused all the time and although I’d tried to tell the adults in my life that I was being abused, they didn’t believe me. They claimed that I got too upset when I talked about the abuse and that meant I was lying.

What they didn’t and still don’t understand, is that when I tried to talk about the abuse and the shame I felt around it, it made me feel so bad about myself that all I could do was bawl my eyes out. You see, part of me knew the abuse towards me was wrong but because of the reactions I got from loved ones, there was also a part of me that believed it was my fault - that I must have done something really wrong to deserve the abuse.

I just don’t get it ...all I want to do is print the truth, yet it’s proving to be an incredibly difficult process. Why are people going out of their way to make this so complicated?! The stress is making me incredibly sick and even though my husband keeps saying to just back away from it all; that it’s not worth losing my sight or my health, I just can’t.

...If I step away, then it means I suffered the trauma for nothing and to me that would mean my life has been wasted, and that is something I cannot do!

I AM a fighter and I will not let a small band of people stop me from fighting this war against mental health. I may have some stress related health issues, but please know that I am NOT down, and I am NOT out! I am a FIGHTER and I will not stop until we win the battle to #endthestigma around mental health.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following! 

Stress and Its Ailments... (approx. 1½ min. read)

I had my follow-up with the optometrist this week and unfortunately she said my sight hasn’t gotten any better. 

...it seems the stress from the last couple of months has caused me to lose approximately 50% of the sight in my right eye due to the central serous retinopathy, but I want you to know I’m still not down and out! 

The swelling that develops on the retina reduces or distorts vision, but my Doctor said the effects are usually temporary, and she believes my vision should recover on its own. But, and it’s only a little but, she told me it’s been a couple of months already and she thinks we should err on the side of caution and is booking me in to see a specialist.  

I agree because if I’m being honest, I’m scared shitless! I only have two eyes and I’m getting a real good taste of what it’s like to have trouble seeing. She also reiterated that I need to continue getting rest and distancing myself from the stress/ors in my life; which I believe I am, for the most part. 

...And I’ve done that by distancing myself from the people, places and things that exacerbate my symptoms and the derogatory comments on my blog seem to have stopped. Plus, I haven’t received any nasty emails or messages from anyone and those were the things that have been causing the most amount of stress in my life.  

My book is going to be ready for the first edit the end of this month, so other than my blog and catching up with followers; I won’t have to be sitting at the computer. In addition I’m thinking about doing some vlogging, instead of blogging until my eye has healed completely, so it’ll all be uphill from here. 

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following. 

References:

http://www.epso.ca/info-for-patients/eye-conditions/retinal-diseases/other-retinal-diseases/central-serous-retinopathy/

"Thou Dost Protest Too Much, Methinks" (approx. 3 min. read)

It’s been almost a month since I last wrote a blog, and I know I told you I wasn’t going to write anything until after my follow up appointment with the ophthalmologist, but I’ve got some stuff on my mind and I figure the only way to get rid of it is by writing about it...

As you all know I’ve been getting some pretty nasty comments on my website, and I want you to know that it doesn’t stop there; I’ve also been getting texts, emails, and private messages as well.

They all pretty much say the same things: I’m a liar, I’m an attention seeker, I’m a waste of space and I’m sure those of you that are following me don’t agree with what they are saying.

Only one of these emails wasn’t derogatory; it said:

Hi Dee and Gary,

Well you certainly got a wonderful sunny day for your anniversary. Hope this year will be an equally sunny one for you!

I found a whole file filled with letters you sent me over the years -- birthdays and such. Would you like to see any of them? --they’re certainly more sunny than some of the sad times you’ve encountered in recent years.

Much love to you both.

I immediately wrote back and said:

Absolutely, I've been asking you to see my letters and poems for years!
Would you please scan them and send them to me.

Davina

I’ve been waiting for this person to answer an eight hundred and ninety-nine word email (honestly) since September fifteenth of last year and they send me this?

Personally, I think there’s way too much protesting going on, and it’s coming from many unexpected sources that my oppressors have been scrambling to rally to their less than honest cause. People who haven’t cared to contact me in years have suddenly appeared to tell me how disappointed they are because of my chosen methods of communication and seeking mental health.

Why must those who would silence me need to scour their contact lists to find long lost echo chambers? Why are they so interested in silencing me in the first place?

If there was nothing to what I’m saying wouldn’t they just shrug, laugh, and then just get on with their lives knowing the truth was on their side?

Questions like these and more lead to such things as the title of this blog. Things that could put someone with mental health issues into a really bad place; things like, “I’m glad that your daughter removed the poison that is you from her life and her daughters? I hope your other daughter follows suit as well.”  

...the worst thing is the last comment came from someone that suffers from mental illness, which leads me to believe there’s no time for me to take a leave. There truly is stigma; and a lot of it, around mental health, and even though I’m down and being kicked while I’m down; I am not OUT!

I have my follow up appointment in six days and my sight hasn’t improved much, but I’ve talked to Gary and we’ve agreed I just need to finish the book.

There is so much poison in my mind and we believe the only way I’m going to get past that poison, and finally live a healthy life, is to get all those nasty memories out of my head and on to paper. Then and only then, will I be able to move past the stress.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following!

I Am Down, but I Am NOT Out! (approx. 2 min. read)

As you know the last few months have been pretty stressful and although I have taken a few breaks, they haven’t been enough. 

The week before I got shingles, my eye sight really started to get kind of scrambled; for lack of a better word, and I had trouble focusing. I also felt quite dizzy, and when I looked at certain objects; they appeared kind of wavy; almost like they were moving. 

So when I got the diagnosis of shingles, I just figured the changes in my vision were due to a side effect of the shingles. That they’d clear up when the rash did, but when they didn’t I booked an appointment with my optometrist to get them checked out. 

Turns out I have central serous retinopathy; again. I had it once before about two years ago when I was going through another really stressful time, and was receiving nasty messages and emails; much like the ones I’ve been getting lately. 

CSR is a recurring condition in which fluid accumulates in the central region of the macula and if recovery is prolonged, damage to the retina can occur. They aren’t sure what causes it, but one of the known triggers for this disease is an elevated stress level, and it may result in mild to moderate vision loss. 

Needless to say I have to take a little time off ... not from the book, but everything else. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends writing my book and my blog, as well as doing some free lance editing ...then add in the stress of the last couple of months and I guess it was too much for me.  

I have a follow up appointment on July 19th to see if I’ve gotten it under control. I was able to completely reverse it the last time I had it, and I know I can do it again ...I have too.  

You can still follow me on Twitter as well as Facebook, and I’ll keep posting but not as often. As for my website; I’m going to be taking a break from that as well, but someone will be maintaining the site for me. As well as forwarding any positive emails or comments, so if you want to reach me you can still do it that way. 

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following. xo

References:

http://occeyecare.ca/

http://www.aao.org/eye-health/diseases/what-is-central-serous-retinopathy

Why I'm leaving Myself Open to Derogatory Comments... (approx. 1½ min. read)

So for those of you that haven’t been following me this week I’ve been getting some pretty slanderous comments on the blog “I’m back and stronger than ever,” as well as getting some pretty nasty emails.

Some of you have asked me why my comments are un-moderated, as well as why I would open myself up to that kind of hurt and I’m going to answer that question for you...

People with mental health issues are treated with distaste, and mostly nobody gets to see the way society treats them.

Our abusers (for the most part) make sure there are no witnesses to their actions, so when we (people with mental illness) try to tell the world about our pasts and why we have PTSD, anxiety, etc. they don’t believe us.

Most of the blogs I’ve visited are moderated and you can’t post anything that hasn’t been approved, so most of the time, the comments are positive and encouraging ...but that isn’t the world we’re living in. We’re living in a world where people with mental health issues, are stigmatized and we can’t figure out where we fit in.

Which brings me to the reason I won’t moderate the comments on my site ...I don’t want you to just see the candy-coated side of mental illness; I want you to see it the way it truly is without any misconceptions. And I believe that if I would have blocked those comments, no one would have gotten the chance to see what people like us have to deal with on a daily basis.  

Now don’t get me wrong because I’m not faulting anyone else on how they’re writing their blogs; this is just something I believe will help me to deal with my mental illness. A lot of people believe that what the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t feel, and I’m here to #endthestigma.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.

I'm Back and Stronger Than Ever! (approx. 2½ - 3 min. read)

I know it’s been awhile since I’ve written a blog entry but I needed to take a step back after the harassment I got from my family, especially the members that instigated it. You see I’ve never done anything to them, except hide the truth and it completely sent me for a loop. So much so that I ended up so stressed out and run down that I got shingles.

The reason... I believe my sister-in-law’s death was a murder made to look like a suicide and 75-85% of our families believe the same and I was honestly having visions of it happening to me. I kept seeing the person that’s been harassing me standing in my bedroom doorway with a gun and saying, "I told you 'maybe it’s time someone just made it stop' and I’m here to do that."

I know, I know - I was catastrophizing but as you all know, I’m a PTSD survivor and it’s what I do. I catastrophize everything and I was terrified this was going to happen. Gary tried to tell me not to worry and that Xena would bark if someone came into the house; but would she?! She knew this person and I just couldn’t convince myself she would protect me.

I started having nightmares about being shot and then the flashbacks started, taking me back to when I got held up. I stopped opening the curtains and going outside - again - and I even started avoiding the people in my life that were being supportive. I was in the middle of a trigger and all I thought about was hiding from the world.

The thoughts I was having were coming from the brain of someone with PTSD and I truly believed I was going to get murdered and they were going to make it look like suicide.

So... I took a step back, got my shit together and I’m here stronger than ever!

I know I don’t want to die and the last time I was stressed, instead of thinking suicide, I called a cab to take me to the psych ward at St. Joseph’s because I knew I needed to get some help. I finally realize that wanting to commit suicide is just a symptom of my illness and after years of struggling, I know the only reason I ever thought about taking my life was because of how certain family members and friends made me feel.

I was made to believe the world would be better off without me and the drama caused by my illness; but now I know differently. Ever since I stopped trying to have relationships with the family and friends who’ve been criticizing me, I’m really starting to believe in myself and I don’t feel the need to question my existence - quite so much.

I’ve taken a step forward, instead of ten steps back, and now that I’ve stopped associating with all the people that didn’t and don’t accept me for who I am, life is so much better. Instead of thinking the world would be better off without me, I believe that the world is a better place because I’m in it! I know (now) I’m worthy and with the absence of the people that were making me feel unworthy,  I’m starting to believe in myself ...for the first time in my life!

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.

Another Trigger... (approx. 2½ min. read)

For those of you that are reading my blog for the first time, I was diagnosed with PTSD almost eleven years ago and for years I’ve tried to explain my illness to nay-sayers but they just don’t want to hear it.

They accuse me of faking my mental illness instead of trying to understand why I’m so different. Constantly asking where the “old” Davina has gone, instead of questioning what changed me so drastically and made me so fearful and withdrawn; two behaviours that were opposite to my “old” personality?!

They have accused me of lying, faking my symptoms and have even gone so far as to send me messages like this one:

“Why do you feel the need to do this? I have no problems with truths being posted, but as for lies??? Maybe it's time someone outed you for these? Or maybe it's time someone just made it stop!”

“...0uted me?” That’s exactly what I wanted - the truth had been hidden for far too long and it needed to come out! But I didn’t even see that line the first time I read it, all I saw was the next line “Or maybe it’s time someone just made it stop?!”

What?! Like how?! I catastrophize everything and I wasn’t sure if this was a threat of bodily harm, or what it was! Needless to say I headed down that slippery slope straight into a TRIGGER and I haven’t been out on the front step in four days, let alone gone anywhere in the car. The house alarm is on, the curtains are closed and I have absolutely no intention of going anywhere.

And sure it might seem like a bit much to someone without PTSD but it’s crucial for me to feel safe when I’m having a trigger; and if that means being holed up inside like a turtle hiding from a predator - so be it.

I called the police and they said I should charge this person with harassment but I’m hoping after the proof I sent to this person, they’re going to stop protecting the guilty parties and leave me alone. After all, it has nothing to do with this particular person and once they know the truth, I’m sure they’ll stop targeting me.

In the meantime I’m going to take a step back from my writing, avoid outside triggers, surround myself with loved ones and reassure myself that I’m doing everything I can to support and love myself. I’ve learned that each time I go down this road I come back faster and stronger than the last time; that being kind to my mind and praising myself instead of beating myself up for having this disease, is necessary to the healing process.

Stay safe, stay strong.  Thanks for following.

Non-Believer vs. Me. (approx. 4-5 min. read)

On May 2nd, the anniversary of my brother’s death, I wrote and posted an obituary for him; something that hadn’t been done yet. It had been a whole year since he died and even though I looked regularly to see if our parents had written an obituary, they still hadn’t. It was heartbreaking, because even in death, he was being treated like he didn’t belong to anyone.

It wasn’t the nicest obituary, but it’s how I felt and I feel even stronger about it now because not long after I posted it, I rec’d this message:

Non-believer: What on earth were you thinking Dee? I will message you when we return home. I am confused and angry right now.

Me: I’ve been confused and angry my whole life.

Then the conversation moved to messenger and this is how it went - sorry for any spelling errors but I was absolutely livid writing it because I believed this person would always have my back...

Me: You have no idea what my parents are truly like. Neither one has called me since I stopped calling them a year ago, and they knew I was suicidal. I haven't been invited to my father's place in almost ten years and I can show you email after email of excuses why we can't get together. I had a horrible childhood and I'm sick of hiding how my brother and I were treated. You can be angry if you want to, but this is between my parents and myself. I know you would never treat your kids the way Ian and I've been treated. And you would never let one of them leave this world and not write an obituary for them. There has to be a part of you that knows something about all of this isn't right and never has been. I love you, but this is not between you and I. You have no idea what my parents have been like to me and I'm not going to be treated this way anymore. Xo

Non-Believer: What you have done or what your parents have done to you is not why this post upset me. To openly attack your father on Facebook without having all the facts is not the right thing to do. You openly hated Ian, a man that terrified his son to this day. I have always listened to you Dee and loved you like a daughter, there is no call to end up your message with a veiled threat to me.

Me: Not intending to ever threaten you non-believer. Ever. I hated my brother while he was alive but there are a lot of things I found out about him and his relationship with our parents after he died that would have changed that. Yes, you have always loved me, and that's something that's helped me get past the lack of attention I got from my parents. You weren't around when we were younger and you've only been allowed to see what they wanted you to see. I've hidden so much bad stuff and I can't do it anymore. My mental state can't handle it. I've tried to talk to my father my whole life, but he only sees rainbows and butterflies. And now that I want answers, he refuses to acknowledge me. It's been over ten years since we've been invited anywhere near his house and his and his wife's excuses for not coming here are that it's too far. Whatever, I never thought I would ever have to defend myself to you, but I am. I love you, and I wish you all the best. Hopefully one day you'll want to hear my side of what it's been like, but I understand you wanting to stand by your sibling because that's something I wish I would have had the chance to do with my brother.

Me: I've taken it down, but will post it on my blog. I'm sick of the way my family treating me is being swept under the rug, and the only reason I deleted it was because it upset you. I don't care what my parents think and if you knew how they honestly treated me, you'd understand that. Anyway, when you want to hear my side of the story, I'd be more than willing to tell you. Gary can even reiterate the last 11 years just in case you're like everyone else and think I'm making it all up.

That’s it, nothing more was said and once again I hid the truth by taking it down ...but I promised myself no more lies of omission, and have posted it below.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following. 

For those interested, this is my brother’s obituary:

Ian David Chesterton, survived by his sibling Davina Lytle.

Also survived by his son, nieces, grand nephew & grand nieces, unfortunately I'm not allowed to post their names.

R.I.P. Ian Chesterton. I believe with the right guidance, you could have been so much more and I miss you for that! xo

Something Different - My First Guest Post! (approx. 2 min. read)

First things first, I have a publisher!! They're called PubKick and are just starting up, but their methods of publishing intrigue me -to say the least!

What does this mean to you?

It means I'm going to be really busy over the next couple of months while I finish writing my book, and will only be able to write bi-weekly, or monthly blogs.  So, I've started a page called "Guest Posts,” and on that page I will share other people's stories; stories that have affected me profoundly.

My first guest post is written by Josey Quinn and it’s an excerpt from her book “If I Really Wanted to Die: A Little Book of FAQs About Surviving Chronic Suicidality.” 

I chose Josey’s story because other than her mental illness being different from mine, her reality and her words are the same ...and as I sat reading Josey’s story - tears streaming down my face I came to the realization that I'm not alone; and neither are you.

Just one thing before you head over to “Guest Posts,” Josey’s excerpt may be a trigger for some people so please proceed with caution. Her excerpt was incredibly profound and helpful for me and I’m hoping it’s going to be the same for you.

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.

If you're feeling suicidal, please call your nearest crisis centre and ask for help:

References:

http://suicideprevention.ca/thinking-about-suicide/find-a-crisis-centre/ (In Canada)

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/  (In the U.S.)

http://www.prevent-suicide.org.uk/ (In the UK)

Cold, Hard Facts. (approx. 3 min. read)

So I guess you’re all wondering how Saturday went after all of the anxiety in the months prior to it, and I have to tell you it went way better than expected.

We got there early so we could be the ones being greeted instead of the other way around, but it didn’t work that way.

My father and his wife were the first to come in and they did everything not to “see” me, which was quite hilarious because I was standing in the center of the room most of the night. Then my brother and his wife came in, and then my daughter and her husband.

It was almost an hour before my Dad came over to me, and it was a very quick interaction because he didn’t really say anything; he just hugged me. Later I think he realized it wasn’t enough because he came over to me again and said that he would talk (to me), but he couldn’t hear me ...an excuse he’s used for years even though he has a top of the line hearing aid.

What amazes me is how he thinks he somehow becomes invisible and I can’t see that he’s moving about the room talking with everyone else - with no hearing difficulties at all!

But I digress...

After about an hour and a half, my oldest daughter ended up standing in a circle to my left and it was killing me not to approach her. I was afraid she was going to turn her back on me, and I knew that I would end up crying - something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

I turned to my husband and my cousin and told them how I was feeling and they urged me to approach her, so I did.

I walked over, put my hand on her shoulder, and when she turned to look at me I almost melted because she smiled at me. We hugged each other, she showed me pictures of the grandchildren I hadn’t seen in 185 days and I thought things were going to be okay. But I found out later she was doing what she needed to do to get through the night.

My brother brushed past me, paid me a compliment, but never came anywhere near me the rest of the night, and his wife never said anything to me until she couldn’t find the washroom and I was the only one she could ask.

While all of this is going on try to remember there are people that have been following my blog and are watching to see what transpires. They’ve been told by my parents that I diagnosed myself with PTSD and I’m making everything up, so they couldn’t help but be curious.

At the end of the night, my father and his wife came over to the group of cousins I was still standing with to say goodnight; there were about nine of us standing in a circle.

They went to the person on my left and worked their way around the circle, hugging everyone until they got to me. It was almost like I was the one who was invisible now...

I looked at my cousins and said, see what I mean?!

That’s when one of my cousins came to my rescue! He grabbed my Dad’s shoulder and spun him around so fast he had to steady my father with his other hand.

He looked into my Dad’s eyes and angrily said, “You forgot Davina.”

...So, did it go well? Abso-friggin-lutely! My cousins finally got a little glimpse of the truth, and I can’t tell you how empowered that makes me feel!

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following. 

Family Gatherings ...Need I Say More?! (approx. 2½ min. read)

There’s a really important family gathering coming up on Saturday and although I’ve been warned by quite a few people, not to go, I’m going.

The celebration is an Uncle’s 80th and there are a lot of relatives coming from overseas to join in on the fun. Relatives that have no clue what’s been going on over here, but still insisting they want to see us, so we’re going to go ...regardless of the stress and anxiety it’s been causing me for months.

I haven’t had any contact with my parents since I stopped calling them and to me, I’ve been stressing about this gathering ever since I heard about it a year ago and trying to figure out how I’m going to get through it...

It’s been almost a year since I’ve been to a family gathering on my side of the family and the last one was such a trigger...

Having people turn their backs on me when I walked up to them, being accused of lying and self-diagnosing. It makes me shake my head because why would anyone make this shit up?! Don’t they know how hard it is for people to speak up about mental health?!

Anyway, I have a plan... I’m going to walk in there with my head held high and if anyone says anything nasty to me, I’m going to remind them that we are at a birthday celebration for someone that we all love and that we need to focus on that. I will also tell them that if they’re interested, I would be more than willing to talk at a later date. Something I’ve been trying to do for years...

Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following. 

Good Morning PTSD Family! (approx. 1½ min. read)

Monday mornings I get up and go into my office; not just to work on my book, but also to start working on an idea for my weekly blog.  This week I was going to write about my surgery and how it went, but there’s something more interesting I want to share...

As you know I started building a platform around August of last year in order to get attention from a publisher and although I haven’t been able to find a publisher yet, it’s helped me in a way I never thought possible.

I’ve found a circle of friends that not only understand me, they are (just like) me! With these people, there is no need to explain when I’m being triggered because they get me; whether I’m feeling anxious, depressed, or in a full blown panic attack - they get me!

...A year ago I believed I was alone in my illness; that like I had been told, it was all in my head - no pun intended. I had lost all hope, and really believed the world would be a better place without me, but out of the darkness; came the light.

I started writing and sharing stories about my life and living with a mental illness, and now I have fellow sufferers/survivors in my life. They are gentle, kind and supportive, and they have given me something I had lost; HOPE.

Now I wake up every morning, get out of bed, turn on my computer and say GOOD MORNING to my PTSD family, instead of groaning at the hopelessness of life, and crawling back under the covers.  I believe I’ve found a purpose and I want to live, so thank you (you know who you are!) for helping me to believe in myself again.

Stay safe, and stay strong. Thanks for all of your support, and thanks for following!

A Tribute to My Dear Friend, Caroline Stanfield. (approx. 2½ min. read)

It is with a heavy heart that I write this week’s blog...

About 8 years ago I decided I wanted to start living again, so I applied to do volunteer work at a hospice close to where I lived. It was small but it was set up like a regular home with a great room, dining room, a very large kitchen - with an island in the centre of it that was always covered in all kinds of goodies - three family rooms, six offices, two meeting rooms and ten very cozy bedrooms for the residents.

Now you might be asking yourself why I would pick such a somber volunteer position, but there were two reasons I decided on the hospice. The first reason was that the hospice was locked up like Fort Knox, and this was important because I didn’t feel safe anywhere that wasn’t locked up against the public. The second reason was purely selfish; I wanted to learn how to live again and who better to teach me than people who were dying. 

I got my police check done and immediately started volunteering at the front desk, but it scared me because it reminded me of when I got held up. So I applied for resident care (very similar to a personal support worker), and I never looked back. Sure, it was tough in the beginning but as I watched these incredible human beings lose their strength, along with their ability to walk and talk; all I wanted to do was help them. 

There were rules at the hospice and for the most part I followed them, but the one that stated we couldn’t exchange numbers or email addresses with the residents or their families, didn’t make sense to me. These people were going through one of the toughest times in their lives and if they wanted to reach out, there was no way I was going to turn my back on them; especially when there was a connection.  

That’s what happened with Caroline. She was the daughter of a woman dying from ovarian cancer, and the connection was immediate. We liked a lot of the same things, we shared the same positive attitude and she was always smiling. It was a friendship made in “heaven;” little did I know it wasn’t going to last. 

Less than a year into our friendship, Caroline was diagnosed with Ovarian cancer and the prognosis wasn’t good; but she faced it head on just like she did everything else. She remained positive, never losing hope until she was told she was palliative a couple of months ago (4 years into her fight). She was always smiling and she was always supportive of her friends and loved ones. 

That all ended this morning and I believe the world will be a sadder place without her kind smile and loving nature. She was one of the most amazing friends I could ever have and now she’s gone. 

Rest in peace my dear friend. You will always hold a place in my heart.

Stay safe, and stay strong until we meet again. XOXO

A Reminder Not to Read Other People’s “Tv Screens!” (approx. 2 min. read)

Over the last 8 months or so, I’ve been working on developing a platform in order to draw attention from a publisher. It’s been incredibly hard because I’ve been hiding for years, but now when you Google my name; I’m there. Even though it makes me start to panic when I think about it, I know it’s important because my goal is to end the stigma around mental health as well as childhood abuse; and I can’t do it if I’m in hiding.

A couple of weeks ago, I got my first request to share my story. We (I’m going to call him Bill) chatted on twitter and at first I said no because I was terrified, but then thought I’d never get the message out if I didn’t buck up. 

I asked Bill if we could talk on the phone prior to the podcast interview so we could get to know each other and when we did, I told him some of my deepest, darkest secrets. It was important he knew what kind of a person I was, and that he took my illness seriously. 

After about 30 to 45 minutes, I agreed to do the podcast and we hung up; but then I couldn't help feeling like I’d said too much...

The next day, as I was preparing myself for the podcast and working on a couple of blog entries, I received an email that said “Podcast and Interview cancelled.” I was shocked but I opened it. It said (or at least I thought it said) that Bill didn’t want to do the interview because it didn’t fit in with his agenda ...mental health, especially PTSD was not something he wanted linked to his project.

My first thoughts were that I had been duped; again. Bill was an identity thief, or worse he was a serial killer or a rapist and now he knew everything about me!!! 

I was heading for triggersville, but this is where my chosen family comes in; they know me! Plus they knew I was stressed about the podcast and when I get stressed, my brain kind of misfires - for lack of a better word. 

I read Bill’s email again, at their insistence, and realized (sheepishly) that I’d misinterpreted it...

However, it's all good. I'm going to use this as a reminder to be kind to my mind. In times of stress, I need to breathe and think about me instead of trying to read other people's minds ...or as one of my T's puts it: read other people's TV screens.

Thanks for following. Stay safe, and stay strong.