Mental Illness My personal Journey

Discussion in 'The Watercooler' started by DammitJanet, Nov 23, 2009.

  1. DammitJanet

    DammitJanet Well-Known Member Staff Member

    Mental Illness " My Personal Journey
    We are pretty darn sure that for me in particular that I inherited the gene for bipolar and that I grew up in a home that was particularly invalidating because from the time I was an infant my mother was verbally abusive. Most mothers sing some sort of silly nursery rhyme or song to their infants and young children to get them to sleep. That is quite normal.

    My mom's song was "Oh she doesn't love her mommy anymore, anymore. Oh she doesn't love her mommy anymore. And the reason that she doesn't love her mommy is her mommy doesn't love her anymore."

    I would cry and cry when she sung that to me even as a young infant and she would laugh and laugh thinking it was funny.

    Don't you think it is odd that I even remember the song over 40 years later?

    She would run hot and cold on me. Either I was her best friend and she would dress us alike in clothes that she made for us or I was a demon child and relegated to my room to be punished. I never knew from hour to hour which mommy I would have. I dodged items being thrown at me-phones, kitchen items, food, etc.

    She would tell me that I was uncivilized as a young child and thought it was hilarious when I overheard someone say something the word 'civilized' in the store one day and I piped up and said that was what I wanted to be one day. I also got the snot beat out of me for embarrassing her.

    At the age of three I was sexually abused by a female babysitter who inserted various items into me. What I remember most clearly were those rubber pencil erasers that go on top of pencils. I told my mom when they got home and had to go to the doctor to get them removed. I was told to never talk about it again. Im not sure what happened to the babysitter but I think she got sent away somewhere. She was a neighbor girl and I played with her little brother so that was a big stink. I felt so guilty. My parents never talked to me about it again.

    After that I started getting more obvious Bipolar symptoms but they didn't have that diagnosis back then for kids. I had problems sleeping, was defiant, would run away, hypersexual, irritable.

    When I was six I actually attempted to kill another child in a six year olds pathetic attempt. We had a foster child for a few months (which was a disaster and I will never know why it was allowed). This occurred over Christmas and we both got doll items as gifts. I got a doll carriage and she got a doll stroller. Well one day we were on the porch with our dolls and stuff and she demanded that she play with my carriage. She was 5 and I was 6. I said no. We had just got them and I wasn't feeling like giving mine up right then. Well she cried and screamed and my mom made me give my new carriage to her to play with and told me that my dad was going to spank me when he came home. This was a threat I didn't take lightly.

    My dad didn't spank me often but when he did, it was a really bad thing. My dad had a belt that was from his time in the Marines that was two inches wide and 1/8th inches thick. It had a big buckle on it and when he whipped me with it, it hurt and left big welts on me. I hated and feared that belt!

    When he got home, my mom told him to whip me so he came in and told me to take off my pants and he would whip me. I cried and begged that I didn't deserve to get spanked. It didn't matter. I was getting spanked. I ran. It didn't matter. They found me. I got whipped until I had welts up and down my back and legs. That buckle hurt so badly.

    The next day I made some 'soda pop' up for my foster sister with a little bit of kool aid and some of my mom's perfume. Basically a cup of Kool aid and about an ounce of perfume. I just knew I was gonna kill her if she drank it. It was my intention. Obviously, it wouldn't kill anyone. I doubt she even drank more than a sip. I left it for her after telling her to drink it and ran away. I don't remember what happened after that but she wasn't there much longer.

    I played doctor with other kids my age and kids older by 3 to 4 years. Anything to be accepted. I was also never happy. None of the photo's of me at parties show me smiling. I couldn't take social activities because I didn't understand that sort of thing. I was socially awkward. I was different.

    My mom wouldn't allow me to dress the same as other kids because she made my clothes. She made me stand out. All this time she was also doing the whole push me pull me routine at home with me being her best friend one day or minute and her enemy the next. I didn't know who to trust. I had no one to trust. If I thought I had a friend, they normally would turn on me and tease me.

    So basically I was a typical early onset bipolar kid living in a home with a Mommy Dearest and an absent father who only showed up to beat me with a belt that left welts that sometimes nearly bled. I think he beat me probably 10 to 15 times in my life that I can remember before I snapped and put him up against the wall when I was in my teens. What my mom did was worse though…more insidious.

    When I hit the age for Junior High it was decided I would leave private school and go to the local public school. Oh boy! It was like throwing a lamb into the lion's den. I had been in private schools for years so I was fairly insolated. We must remember what decade this was too. The mid 70's. All anyone could think of was sex, drugs and rock-n-roll. I was dumped into a large school full of kids in 7th through 9th grade with raging hormones, who were still into defying all authority, and only wanted to party. And I looked like a geek for the first semester. Then my mom handed me the copy of 'The Happy Hooker' and I suddenly became very popular!

    In 8th grade, I really went off the tracks. I had my first boyfriend in 7th grade but he was a good catholic boy who respected girls and didn't want to derail his future so he refused to do more than kiss. Good thing because I had no self control. But in 8th grade, I had met my first 'real' boyfriend. Didn't take me long to begin to have sex. I was just 14. This boy was 19.

    All this time, I am still dealing with my mom going through her cycles of either being friend or foe. She would get me in the car and want me to go out and eat then get mad and not feed me and storm home. She would not buy food for weeks. My dad would have to give me money to go buy groceries. My mom would buy food for her and hide it in a cooler where only she would have access to it. We were not poor people. My dad was doing quite well for us.

    My mom didn't have to work but she had a part-time job where she met a woman who would become her best friend (and is now my step-mom!). My mom and P, best friend, would get together all the time and itch and moan about P's philandering husband. He really was a louse. On occasion they would follow him to spy on him. This really fed into my mom's paranoia about men, about people in general. She would come home and feed me lies about my boyfriend and convince me that he was cheating on me because we weren't together all the time because he lived one town away and he worked full time. She would get me into the car and we would go to where he works and put a piece of reflective tape on his car so we could track him. How absurd!

    Later she would accuse me of making her do all this.
    Then she told me I couldn't have my boyfriends over to the house and sit and watch TV and have snacks in our family room. She bought me a brand new TV, stereo, bedding set with sheets and comforter. She told me I had to entertain my boyfriends in my room only. With the door closed.

    I later found out that she had drilled a small hole in the coat closet in the foyer that looked directly into my bedroom. She could stand in that closet and see whatever was going on in my bedroom…especially what was happening on the bed. No wonder she gave me that special mood lighting. Remember, I was 14!

    I stayed with this boy until I was 15 but when I broke up with him that was when I started drinking and smoking pot. It started the night I broke up with that boy. I went to a party to celebrate a play we had put on. I was upset over breaking up and I got drunk drunk drunk. I didn't even make it home that night. I slept with someone I don't even know who it was. I ended up meeting my next boyfriend at that party though. One of his friends told him he needed to hook up with me because he needed an experienced girl. Sigh.

    Life at home was getting more out of control as my teen years got more chaotic. My mom was trying to rein me in and I was so out of control at this point there was no getting me back. I actually laughed at her. I told her that unless she was willing to send me to boarding school, which I would gladly attend, just shut up. This woman would buy me beer, buy me liquor and then tell me to come home at 8 pm. Nah, Im not listening to you.

    At 15 I still only had a few people I would get high with because I was so scared and paranoid. I had a small posse of friends. One stuck by me like glue. She was my lifeline. I never went anywhere without her all through HS. She understood my mom was crazy and didn't blame me for it.

    By 16, things were getting so much more out of control. I was able to drive which really gave me freedom. When things were bad at home, I just took off, and I mean took off…for other states or other parts of my state! I was heavily into pot and sometimes drinking though I didn't particularly like hangovers or throwing up. I would also manipulate my parents into giving me their credit cards if I wanted something…anything. If I wanted new clothes, I would throw a major hissy fit until they coughed up the master card. It worked every time. I did work at 16, I was proud of that. In fact, from age 16 until 18.5 (which will be talked about later) I worked almost continuously. I just also partied after work.

    By 16 ½, my boyfriend John had graduated HS and started college. That was a major turning point in our relationship. Before that, we had been like twins in that we looked so much alike and we were HS sweethearts, even though we did party. We were pretty tame really. Once he got to college we got into more of the heavy stuff. He also had a dark side that came out once he was away from home. His dad was a wife beater. It only came out once or twice before he went away to college and he tried to keep it at bay so hard. Once he was away from home, it was extremely hard for him to contain. Being with him when he was under the influence of alcohol was extremely risky. We both started doing acid, Quaaludes, and other assorted pills. I remember one time taking a whole box of OTC diet pills because someone told me you could get high off them. Ugh was I sick! I would stay at his dorm for a week at a time and not go home. My parents were livid. I was 17 by this time.

    I quit school at some point in here during 11th grade. All this stuff is running together now. My parents did tell me that if I wasn't going to school then I would work. So I did. Well, I decided this wasn't what I wanted so I decided to go back to school. Problem was my mother decided to find me a private school for problem kids. Unfortunately she didn't check to see if it was accredited. It wasn't. I spent three months of the end of my junior year there and the first three months of my senior year there only to find out nothing I did there would count! Another problem, one of their teachers liked to have sex with the students! Me! I was thrilled because it gave me easy A's and I thought it was all consensual at the time but now I know just how wrong that was. Because of this snafu, I ended up getting my GED the end of June 1980 even though I did continue for what should have been my senior year in a public school.

    During my 17th to 18th year I was all over the place. I can't even begin to tell you everything that happened to me or what I did. I know I did more drugs than I can even begin to recount, ran all over town, (LDM would know many of the places I was around and could attest to the fact that they were not the most reputable areas…lol), I attended a NORML event in Difficult Child (think Woodstock), spent most of one summer on a boat in VA beach picking up guys, got pregnant by a boy at 17 and had an abortion, met a girl and fell in love a month after that abortion, got kidnapped and raped 4 months after meeting that girl WITH the girl.

    Now I will go into the rape/kidnapping.
    Cindy and I worked together at a gas station. She had come to meet me school that fateful day in June. It was the last day of school. We were walking home because both sets of parents had confiscated our cars to teach us a lesson about being in a relationship with each other. This was completely bogus considering we were both 18 and older. I was 18 and she was almost 20. Stupid of them. So anyway, we were walking home to my house to get my car because we knew my mom wasn't going to be home that afternoon. As we were walking along the side of the road, a vehicle approached and stopped along the side of the road and opened the door and asked us if we wanted a ride. Two black guys were in the front seat. We said no, that we weren't far from our home. They asked again and said…come'on, we can party and while saying that the guy on the passenger side got out and pulled a knife and grabbed her and threw her in the back seat and then grabbed me and threw me in. They had a pack miller pony's in the car. I will never forget that. Can't stand to look at them still to this day.

    I will spare you the gory details but let's just say it was not a pleasant experience. It was made worse by how we were treated afterwards too. One of the cops was absolutely horrible to us, calling us names and saying we deserved it and probably liked it. It was a mad house at the hospital when our respective families arrived and they started screaming at each other how it was all my fault and I had set it up and all these other awful things. I was never allowed to see Cindy again, they took us away from each other and refused to allow us to contact each other. Her parents sent her to a mental institution to 'cure' her of being gay. Ha ha. I was forbidden to go visit. I was devastated.

    My mother's answer was that all I needed was a big 'Richard' and all would be right with me. I must have had a momentary lapse of judgment and if I just got 'rotated' correctly and many times then I would forget all about what had happened to me. She refused the advice of doctors to get me into counseling but instead found any male who would come stay in my bedroom. Hence, my first husband. He was the brother of a girl I knew in passing at a store in the local mall. He had just been tossed out of the Navy for bad eyesight and returned to our town. I met him once and we were talking in the mall while having a soda together.

    My mom saw us and she invited him home to have dinner. She then invited him to go with us out of town for a weeks vacation! Of course, he said yes. She arranged for the two of us to stay in one room and her in another. I was just so emotionally blank I didn't care. I had basically lost everything at that point. I had lost my partner, my safety, my identity, my very soul. I didn't care what else happened to me. Go ahead, do anything to me. No one else can hurt me anymore. I was basically dead inside from then on. I started drinking and taking any drug I could get my hands on from that June 12th until September when I found out I was pregnant. I was just devastated again when I found out I was pregnant.

    About this time, the court case came up for the rape. It was another zoo. Cindy's mother was screaming in the courtroom that it was all my fault, I set the whole thing up. The ADA was trying to shut her up because the defense was eating it all up. They were yelling back that they couldn't have raped us, we were lesbians. Yada yada. OMG it was awful.

    I managed to talk to Cindy and tell her about the baby. I told her if she wanted, I would leave Bill and go with her and leave everyone else behind. We could be together just her, I and the baby…just say the word. She just had to tell me then and there because I had to plan my life now…not in another six months or another year, I had to deal with life now. She couldn't do it. She told me she wasn't ready to make plans. Okay, I told her I loved her, I would always love her but I had to move on.

    I married Bill and had the baby. That marriage didn't last. He was an abusive SOB. I knew it going in. We didn't know each other and it wasn't even close to something that should have happened if it wasn't for my mom.

    Meanwhile my mom is consistently telling me what trash I am, how I can never do anything right, Im always wrong, Im responsible for everything, and now she has a new target, my baby and my marriage. Im responsible for getting raped, Im responsible for not being able to stay married, Im a lousy mother…and here it comes…do things my way or I will tell the courts that you were gay once. Looking back I should have wondered how she would have proved that one but it sure made me jump.

    After I left my ex, my mom filed for separation from my dad. That was the best thing that ever happened to him but it really upset him at the time. They had been married forever. She was trying to force him into retirement and he wasn't going to be forced. I don't blame him in the least. He wouldn't have been happy. She really took him to the cleaners too. She started to slowly take out money long before she started the process and he didn't know it because she controlled the finances. Her downfall was that she told her best friend and her friend finally had enough and told my dad. That's when the split came between my mom and her friend. After my dad and mom split up, my dad and my moms friend started becoming friendly and later they dated and the rest is history.

    I am responsible though for my parents marriage ending, I am responsible for them not having a happy marriage, I am responsible for it all because I was a bad kid and bad teen.
    [FONT=&quot]This is the first 19 years in synopsis as well as I can remember[/FONT]
    Last edited: Nov 23, 2009
  2. ML

    ML Guest

    ((((Janet)))) My heart is breaking for you as I read this description of your life growing up. I am honored that you trust us enough tell us about what you endured. I don't know what else to say except thank you for sharing and know that I am in awe of what an amazing, beautiful, loving, wonderful woman you are today. ML
  3. DammitJanet

    DammitJanet Well-Known Member Staff Member

    I give bits and pieces here and there on posts. We talk about how and why people get these disorders. I get tired of repeating myself ...and its hard to keep going back over that time over and over again. Im hoping that maybe one of mods will archive this. I am going to do the next 20 years in another word doctor and copy it over. I just dont have the strength to do it tonight. That took me most of the afternoon to get out.

    Im hoping that people can see behind the descriptions of diagnosis. I am diagnosed with so many things. I have bipolar, borderline, anxiety, ptsd.

    One thing that no one has dxd me with is substance abuse even though it is a hot topic in my teen years because it is thought to be a symptom of my disorders back then that were never treated. Now that I am an adult, I have never used illegal drugs. Even though I didnt seek treatment for myself until I was in my late 30's I had quit illegal drugs by age 21. Just stopped. It wasnt fun anymore.
  4. susiestar

    susiestar Roll With It

    Janet, the fact that you survived your childhood is testament to your strength. Your children and the way you fought to get whatever they needed and learn about what they were going through is evidence of your wonderful and generous heart.

    You are an incredible person and you inspire me. You have come through so very much, and you are so giving and loving to all of us here, even when we need a kick in the pants! I am proud and happy to call you my friend.

    Thank you for trusting us enough to share that, especially because you did it with the idea of helping us to see that there can be so many things behind those words or letters that "diagnose" us.

    I love you. Period. No pushing away, just a big warm hug.
  5. hearts and roses

    hearts and roses Mind Reader

    {{{Janet}}} Thank you for sharing this part of your story here.

    You truly are an amazing, strong, loving, woman and I'm so proud of you for what you've overcome and how much you're willing to help others. Hugs~
  6. klmno

    klmno Active Member

    I read every word of this and my heart goes out to you, as well. Your mother did worse than mine in many ways, but I can also relate in many more ways than I care to discuss on a public forum while my son is still a minor with court involvement, although I've posted a lot about my history before and understand you doing it. I do understand a lot about what you went thru and heard many words that you heard growing up. And I am always here if you want to talk or share a joke or cry or whatever. You have overcome so much and are a survivor and no, the diagnosis doesn't matter in a situation like this, as far as I'm concerned, your diagnosis is "survivor". Period.

    And thank you for sharing this- I know it must have been very hard to get thru it all. I honestly hope it ends up being therapuetic for you, but if nothing else, please know that it lets some of us here know that we are not alone.

  7. KTMom91

    KTMom91 Well-Known Member

    Janet, thank you so much for sharing your early life with us. You have amazing strength to have survived all of that, and still have the courage to keep going. Sending many, many hugs and lots of love.
  8. DammitJanet

    DammitJanet Well-Known Member Staff Member

    I dont think I am amazing or anything else. I think I am living proof of that proverb or whatever it is that says that God takes care of fools and small children. I have been both of those things on so many I did so many things because I just didnt care about me anymore. I didnt matter.

    I survived because I simply didnt manage to kill myself. How, I will never really know. I put myself in so much danger so many times. What is it that is a symptom...oh yeah...risky behavior? that one covered! I spent most of my life thinking I was just born bad. Actually finding out a name for this stuff was a relief. Im not bad, Im crazy! Yippee!
  9. klmno

    klmno Active Member

    Also, Janet, not that I'm anywhere close to being a therapist or being able to advise someone in that area- I was VERY lucky in getting help in this area. I hope you have found a good therapist who is helping you work thru processing all this. It makes all the difference in the world. I found mine in a military place that was actually started to help military people with PTSD from a war and who had gotten into drugs to self medicate it- of course, it was "expanded" with peace time, the drug culture, and women being in there so they had gotten a very good female therapist on board who I can't imagine ever getting better without.

    She stressed a lot of things to us- not the least of which is that being an abuse survivor is not the same as someone who is "bad". You learned survival and defense mechanisms- I swear to me, that is just not the same thing as a personality disorder the way I think of it anyway.
  10. DammitJanet

    DammitJanet Well-Known Member Staff Member

    K...I understand. There is no one out there in the public who can hurt me now. No one. The person who could have possibly hurt me the most has now passed on and she had to meet her maker and deal with that aftermath. Its not in my hands anymore. I did my part to do the best I could to care for her to my very best as long as I could. I still feel some guilt but I live with that.
  11. DammitJanet

    DammitJanet Well-Known Member Staff Member

    The reason that abuse survivors/victims can have ptsd and not be borderline and then someone like me can have the abuse and have ptsd plus be borderline is because not only did I suffer the abuse but I was also completely invalidated. I was abused plus my parents...particularly the one who was abusing me kept telling me this was my fault and it wasnt happening, I was imagining things, I was wrong, I wasnt seeing things clearly. It was like telling me something was red when in reality it was blue and the rest of the world saw it as blue so when I went out in public others called it blue but I thought it was red and they looked at me funny when I called it red. Then when I would question mommy dearest she would tell me I was lying that she ever told me it was red! Make sense?

    That would drive a person crazy, especially if it happened over and over again, over every little thing. Especially when it came to emotional things. Your stupid, I wish you had never been born, oh I always wanted you, no I didnt, I wanted a boy, no I love little girls, I had a tumor when I had you, I wonder which I brought home-the tumor or the baby because you are stupid! Over and over again this stuff was drilled into me.
  12. klmno

    klmno Active Member

    I understand better than you can possibly know.

    That's because we become "shamed-based" and blame ourselves and feel ashamed ovver everything- even things that can't possibly be our fault because we had no control over it; then, we act "guilty" because that's how we feel so others assume we must be, so they mis-trust us and treat us differently and demand different things of us like we are supposed to prove that we are not guilty over something that has nothing to do with the real problem, and that drives us further into our own struggles.
  13. Star*

    Star* call 911


    You know...I read all of this and I sat back and I thought she went through all of that and is one of the most humble, kind, gentle and most fantastic listeners I've ever met. It's not like I can read all this and say "so what." But darlin'...all those things, all those horrible things aren't how you are, they're what you overcame to become who you are.

    Literally it's a miracle that you survived, but moreso the miracle is in your ability to tell the story to others who know you for the gentle - see I said gentle again - I mean that's what comes to mind when I think of you. Caring, compassionate, gentle, loving, concerned, - not any of those horrible things that were thrown at you. You're not a survivor; you are an overcomer you live, you shine, you breathe you move on - you make people WANT to be around you. You make people want to give you their kids. ;) In the event that .....

    You aren't your Mother. If you're anything like her at all? You're only the good things that genetically she could pass on to you. The bad things that she was? Never made it to your persona. Through all that you wrote? I do not see a single ugly, hateful, mean spirited thing about a your Momma that you could have said - but didn't. Instead I see a little girl that would have just loved to have done ANYTHING in the world to be accepted, loved, appreciated, cared about, adored, listened to, worried about - wanted, needed, by people she loved. It may not be the family that you wanted years ago to give you that recognition dear, but being adopted I can tell you you can't pick your family - but sometimes if you're lucky? You get a second chance with a new that wants you and loves you, and would be lost with out you. That's us. It's me for sure.

    I've never spoken to you on the phone because I was always so worried that if anyone knew your number and something happened to us, that you'd be in danger with coming to get Dude. Since he went there? It was nice after 10-11 years to FINALLY be able to talk to you on the phone. I was just so tickled and happy to be able to just chat with you after all this time. And laugh...OMG...eeeeeeesh. ;) But in any event I am so thankful for you in my life. When I met you and knew Dude had a twin? It made me feel like there was hope. When you could laugh about Cory's let me laugh (a little) at Dudes stunts. When you said "well that's not so bad" and I wanted to kill Dude? It probably saved a life. For that? Dude is thankful. :surprise:

    I say this a lot because I never understood why people get put in and out of our lives. Seems people have always been in mine for such a short time and then gone, but we never meet people for no reason. I'm very glad I met you. I get you. If you never told me a thing about your past? I'd still get you. Wouldn't ever matter to me. I just like you for who you are. And I'm thankful for you all the time. I am sorry that you had such a horrible childhood, I wish you could have known a better sure gave your boys a much better one than you had and that has to could triple with your kids. (three boys) and now you have grands...who would not be here without you.

    It would be interesting to see had your Mom not been so ill and your Dad not been so absent what your diagnosis would have been. I'm just guessing but seeing how you are so kind and compassionate? I'm guessing your brain map wouldn't have gone BiPolar (BP) which really makes me wonder if you did some intense EMDR therapy if it couldn't maybe ?? Be lessened a lot more?

    Just thinking out loud 'cause I can....and I love you. Really. Really.

    Anyway - just thought you needed to hear that...on paper.....or not paper but.....what do you call this? Not thought about this -what do you say. Thought I'd put my thoughts down - digitally for you? Gaw.....I'm so old. no....I'm aging.....Wait if you were 17 in 80...then I am younger than you....ha. coooool. Wait.....*(air math) yup. I am. Okay. Anyway......Hugs....;) Thanks for loving us enough to share. It was a beautiful thing, thanks.
  14. Wiped Out

    Wiped Out Well-Known Member Staff Member

    Thank you for sharing your story. You are truly a survivor and are an amazing woman who has overcome what many couldn't. Thank you for all you give to us on a daily basis. ((((hugs))))
  15. Nancy

    Nancy Well-Known Member Staff Member

    Janet you are one incredibly strong, brave and resilient lady. What happened to you would break most everyone else. I always knew you were a special lady. Thank you for sharing your story with us. You have helped many people over the years you have been here. I am so sorry for what you have lived through but I am so glad that I know you.

  16. totoro

    totoro Mom? What's a GFG?

    When you say- "I survived because I didn't manage to kill myself"
    Oh my, I can so relate...
    It is interesting to think what would have been if your childhood had been different? I am sorry for your pain, but still a part of me thinks what your are and have become is so wonderful.
    You would not be the Janet you are without your past.

    I think this at times when I recount my past. It makes me who I am, the good and the bad.

    Thank you so much. It is hard to get this stuff out, I start getting racy and anxious when I start to write about my childhood or earlier years.
    I respect everything you have ever had to offer me and everyone here.
  17. DammitJanet

    DammitJanet Well-Known Member Staff Member

    Star...I turned 18 in As the song goes...last of the baby boom! I turn 48 in less than two months and I feel every aching day of it!
  18. DammitJanet

    DammitJanet Well-Known Member Staff Member

    Toto...I can do it from time to time. I really want to try and get this whole Life Story out once and for all and then get it archived so the next time someone asks me again or something comes up about...well hey, arent you blah blah blah and didnt this happen to you...I can just give the link to MY STORY...lmao. Maybe Im flattering myself to think I am important enough that I have that much of importance to say that could answer questions for someone else.
  19. Hound dog

    Hound dog Nana's are Beautiful

    Wow, Janet. I knew our childhoods were very similar, but I didn't realize just how similar until now.:surprise: Only big difference is that I didn't go the permiscuous route once I hit my teens. It was at that point for some unknown reason that I suddenly realized I didn't have to have sexual relations with anyone I didn't want to.......and so I flat out refused until over age 18.

    I also didn't realize just how similar our Mom's are. Are you sure she wasn't schizophrenic? Maybe schizo-effective?

    Although I've got to much of your behavior is true bipolar and how much was/is as result/reaction of consistant childhood trauma. Of course that can be a huge debate all by itself.

    Course it makes me realize...........we've come a loooooong way baby! :D
  20. SomewhereOutThere

    SomewhereOutThere Well-Known Member

    Janet, your bravery is incredible. You are one of my heroes...a true survivor. Not everyone goes through all that and comes out of it with humor and the ability to love as much as you do. Kudos and may you live in the peace for the rest of your life!