Am I Going Crazy?

I can honestly say that I have never felt more crazy than I do right now this very moment. Through everything that I have been through, I never would have guessed that when my life finally starts to normalize, that is when I lose my mind.

How about a bit of a back story?

Well, I don’t remember much of my childhood for whatever reason but I do remember we moved A LOT! and it was all in the same town/surrounding towns. I counted in case you don’t believe me…23, and guess how old I am…24. Yep, so never really had a “home” because we were never in one place long enough; not that as a child I thought about this. Not until I reached adulthood did I realise just how disturbing that number is for someone who did not need to move because of their parent’s jobs, just simply from rental to rental. This also happened in another aspect, father figures. I was born when my Mum and Dad were soon to be married. It was only a few short years and then my Mum and Dad separated and depending on which side of the family you are asking, you will get a different reason as to why. I was only so little so my knowledge on the next few years is based off stories but either straight away or a few boyfriends later, my Mum started dating my sister’s Dad. Don’t remember anything from living with them but I do remember my Aunty telling me stories when I got a bit older about how she used to have to come and pick me up to keep me safe because he used to beat my Mum. Next in line is my Mum’s ex-husband, so marriage number two. I don’t remember exactly when he came on the scene but most of my childhood memories do involve him in them. When I was seven, my Dad passed away from a sudden heart attack at the age of 29. It was his wife to be that woke up next to him. I remember walking home from school and at this stage we were living with my step-dad’s parents and they ushered my sister away and said that Mum was waiting at the dining table for me. I sat down, wondering why Mum was crying and just sitting down thinking about this memory brings back the anxiety I felt on that day. I don’t remember how exactly I was told but being seven, I don’t think I even really knew what death was.

Leading up to the funeral, at some point I was asked to write up a message which I was under the impression was just going to be put in his coffin but boy was I wrong, but that part is coming up. I for the life of me cannot remember any part of what I wrote but it was probably not as sincere as a letter from the only daughter should have been and I just want to explain why. From what I have heard, the separation of my parents was not all that pleasant and there was a custody battle, as there usually is. For whatever reasons, my Mum got majority custody and I was to visit my Dad once a fortnight for the weekend. It is only now I feel the insatiable injustice of it especially since he was taken away from this world earlier than any person should. I have next to no memories of my Dad, and the major blame is simply the minimal time I had spent with him in the short seven year window of opportunity. When writing the letter, I probably did have memories of him, and I am not going to go into the Math of how much time I actually spent with him but what do you say to a man who is your Dad when you don’t even understand what has happened to him?

The next explicit memory I have is of the funeral and it was extremely overwhelming. I sat in the second row, behind my Dad’s parents and his now ex-fiancée. I cannot even describe to you how uncomfortable I felt and I remember asking Mum how long I had to sit there for and being hushed without an answer. To my horror, the person officiating the funeral announced that he was going to read out a letter written by me to everyone and all eyes in the room turned to me and up until recently, I had not understood the look in their eyes. I felt so embarrassed, but yet the letter was read out anyway. When it was time to say our goodbyes, I cannot remember if I even stood up and went to the coffin but whilst everyone else said goodbye, my Mum told me to put my hand on my Grandma’s shoulder; my response was probably the response I would expect a seven year old to come out with, ‘why?’ and it was met with, ‘just do it’. So I blindly obeyed and when my Grandparents turned to face me, their cheeks wet with tears and their eyes puffy and red; I wanted to melt into the seat and no longer be existing.

My Dad was cremated and afterwards we were all outside for the revealing of the plaque. Nearly everyone at the funeral came up to me and provided their condolences, and my Mum took most of the condolences as I was always too shy to say hello to people who I did not know. I used to hide underneath my mum’s skirt at the shops or behind whoever’s back that I was at the shops with but I knew this was not the day to hide underneath my Mum’s skirt, regardless of how anxious I felt. I would be scolded beyond my wildest nightmares for not behaving appropriately at such an important event.

So now my step-dad was my only Dad and god help my sister or I if we did not call him Dad. He had a foul temper on him, and he got it from his parents. I can vividly remember coming home from school and for some reason I had had a bad day but because I did not greet his parent’s with a hug and a kiss and ask them how their day was, I was sent to my room for hours. Seems pathetic now. In that same house, I remember my sister physically getting her mouth washed out with a bar of soap by him because of something she said. I remember shutting myself in my room in hopes to not hear her crying or screaming at him.

There are some other memories that come to mind when events or conversations trigger them but not a lot that I can recall on demand. I can however always recall one particular event that some people deny knowing about. Now my sister and I rarely got along, our personalities clashed but I loved her and she loved me, not that I believed that at the time. We had my cousin and a friend around and my sister and I were play wrestling on my bed, being noisy. My step-dad came in and told us to be quiet because he was watching the TV. He left the room and we all burst out laughing and continued to play. We had apparently crossed the line because the next minute he came storming back into the room, grabbed my sister by her shoulder and started dragging her into her room. She screamed out in pain and started crying instantly. I as a child, never ever spoke out of place or back to an adult but something in me kicked in and I remember walking up to him and screaming at him that I was going to call the police on him for abusing my sister. He started chasing me and I ran out the front, standing on the other side of the car and we played this stupid little game where I would start dialling 000 and he would chase me around the car. My courage must have started to dwindle because I remember telling him I would call mum and tell her what happened but he threatened me and started chasing me again. I ran inside and locked myself out the back. He yelled at me through the door but I never actually called anybody. A few minutes later he calmly asked me if I wanted to go and get pizza with him for dinner. I remember thinking he must be crazy to think I was going to get in the car with him after what had just happened. Little to my knowledge at the time but my friend who was more a close family friend, had called my aunty who was out shopping with my mum and asked them to come home. I don’t remember anything after being asked to go and get pizza. But this was his regular temper throughout the entire time they were together. We were always threatened to be smacked with his belt, a special one that he never used that always hung in the wardrobe. I remember him throwing my hockey stick out our puppy one time, and chased it around the backyard trying to hit it, I have no idea why. My sister always was smacked though, she was not going to be hushed by threats, and I always remember her saying to Mum or my step-dad that it didn’t hurt, which would infuriate them even more and require a harder smack. I never understood why she was like that but every time it happened, I locked myself in my room.

Not long after a started year seven, they finally split up and I am being truthful here when I say why. He was caught at work, as a transit officer, sleeping with a 15 year old. He was in his 30’s at the time, and I was nearing 13. Mum packed us up and we went and lived at my Auntie’s house until Mum could find a rental property. Even though they owned the house we were in, she let him have it so she didn’t have to fight him in court.

Later that year, my Pop on my Mum’s side passed away. He was only in his 50’s but had a very bad heart condition. Him and I were extremely close. I think he took on that father role in place of my Dad. This time, I understood what death was and I remember everything so vividly. I was at my aunties and all of my cousins were there, including my 3 second cousins, so my Mum’s cousin’s kids if that makes sense. The eldest was only 3 months older than I was and we were pretty close. There was a show on TV about guessing the next song lyrics and we were watching that and singing along. I can honestly say it was one of the best afternoons that I had had in quite some time. I heard their car pull up on the gravel of my auntie’s driveway and I ran to the front door to greet my Mum, Nan and two Uncles. My Mum gave me one of those hugs where you just know something is wrong. I knew they at been at the hospital visiting Pop. They went straight out the back to where my Aunty was and I turned to my cousin and said “I think something bad has happened, like maybe Pop has died”. She shook that idea straight out of my head but shortly after we were all brought into the lounge-room to be told the bad news, that he had indeed passed away. All the younger children started crying straight away but they were so young; I often wonder if they were crying simply because their parent’s were crying. Everyone was holding each other but I was just sitting there. I remember getting my two youngest cousins who would have only been 4 and 6 and taking them out to their trampoline whilst everyone was crying in the lounge-room. Whilst trying to distract them, it must have hit me and I started to break down. The only other thing I can remember from that day was calling my best friend to tell her what had happened.

So now I had lost the two father figures that I had ever known and I was only 13.

My Mum’s next boyfriend was a friend she had met through Scouts which our whole family was heavily involved in. He was not a nice person but he was Mum’s boyfriend so we had to accept him. He came on our first family holiday overseas and the one great thing he did was take my scuba diving. No-one else in my family could as my Mum has had blood clots and also degenerative discs in her back so she could not carry the scuba gear and my uncle who I had become close with has a pacemaker and could not dive because of that. It was a great experience and I am thankful for that opportunity. Needless to say though, they did not last very long. But never fear, my Mum’s next boyfriend was just around the corner, also another scouting friend.

He seemed great at first and was kind to my Mum and my sister and I. By this time I was 14 and Mum was about to celebrate her 35th birthday. As most Mum’s do, she did not want any fuss so I started to plan a surprise party for her. I took on all the responsibility myself. I invited everyone, planned the surprise part, organised with my sister and Mum’s new boyfriend to take her out shopping on the day so that I could have time to set everything up. A few of her close friends came round and helped me set up the decorations and we all nervously waited, hiding in the lounge-room when they pulled in the driveway. We all yelled surprise as she walked into the lounge-room and I still to this day have no idea whether she knew about it or not. Well, later that night, just before we cut the cake; he asked us to come into their bedroom cause he wanted to show us Mum’s present. My sister and I met him in the room and he pulled out an engagement ring and said “I want to ask your Mum to marry me; what do you girls think?” My sister was so into it; she had adopted him as her Dad because her own Dad basically disowned her and Mum would not let them see each other. I on the other hand was not having it. I remember saying “I don’t think you should” and his exact words were “well too bad, I don’t care about your opinion”. So I went to my room whilst he went out and proposed to my Mum. I refused to come out for the rest of the night. My Nan came in to talk to me about it and I told her what had happened but it was all pushed aside because they loved each other. So for the next 3 months, I did not say a word to him; I’m not kidding. I would get in so much trouble from Mum but I refused. I’ll be honest, I was a little upset that he stole the spotlight from me that night but I was also not buying their love either. I had seen enough in my 14 years to know where it was going to end up.

Just before my 15th birthday, my Nan brought a house for us to live in and so we moved in. I did not get to see the house until after the paperwork had already been signed because I had the unfortunate luck to be at my Grandma’s house that weekend, because the agreement stayed in place that I had to visit my Dad’s side of the family every fortnight. At the time, I hated going and for no reason; it was great there. Granddad would have the latest movies for me, Grandma would cook whatever I wanted and I would always get snacks. I had my own computer to do whatever I wanted with and they always showered me with gifts and new clothes. I think I used to always feel like I was missing out on the fun that everyone else was having without me whilst I was there. It wasn’t until about 5 years ago that I truly started to appreciate what I had with them and I still feel so extremely awful that I never wanted to go there. Anyway, everyone went and looked at this house on when it was on the market without me and then called me whilst I was there to say that we were getting a house.

Well, they lasted 9 miserable years together. They used to argue all the time and not just your regular run of the mill arguing; screaming in each other’s faces arguing. My sister loved him though so I had to pretend so that she didn’t get offside because she would then make his life a living nightmare. This was somewhat proven when we all went to Thailand together and they decided they might elope whilst we were there. Well I still was not on board and when they asked us; I again said no but this time, my sister said she was not saying yes because I was not agreeing with it. So I was taken aside privately and told that I had to go and tell her that I want them to get married so that she would agree as well.

This actually defines my entire existence with my sister. She is almost 5 years younger than me and it has always been her way or no way. We never did anything that she did not want to do, even if I wanted to do it. The perfect example I have for you; when my Mum got a new car in 2009, there was a promotion on that you could a family cruise. So my Mum, Nan, Sister and I went on our first holiday besides when we used to go down the coast. I was so excited. The day before our first day docked on an island, we were picking what activities we should do and I wanted to do one particular activity and so did my Nan but my sister did not, so she through a tantrum (typical sister style) about not wanting to do it. So in turn, we did what she wanted to do and nothing of what I wanted to do. No compromise of well you can both pick one activity each, just a simple well she wants to do this so that is what we are doing.

Back to my Mum and the latest Fiancée. My sister took him on as a father and I used to hate it when she would ask him to come and tuck her in at night. He would be in her room for upwards of 45 minutes most nights and I always had the worst feeling. I expressed these feelings to my Nan and she was supportive but my fears were dismissed because my sister is too outspoken to let anyone do anything like that. He also would get so in my mum’s face when they would argue that I was always concerned he was going to hit her. I used to stand just out of site and listen, trying to work up the courage to go in and tell him to leave if he was going to continue to scream at her like that; but that courage never came. The broke up not that long ago because my Mum found out he was cheating on her with someone he worked with but it took him forever to actually leave our house and even now, he still has a shed full of items in our backyard that he will not come and remove.

Now there are a few memories that I found myself thinking back on often and this about sums up my relationship with my Mum’s side of the family.

The first major one is when my Mum and Nan got into the biggest argument I have ever seen. It was not long after my cousins and I had found out that we had an older cousin we never knew about from a previous relationship one of my Uncle’s had. The adults all knew about it but basically she came back into our lives when I was in year 12 and the whole situation was bad from the start. Firstly she had messaged my Mum to come and pick her up and bring her over to meet everyone; not her Father which caused a massive rift between them for a while and this is what caused the argument that day and boy did everything come out into the open. Now I forgot to mention earlier, because it wasn’t relevant at the time but when my Dad passed, I was left with half of his estate, the other half going to his Fiancée at the time. As I was only seven, my Mum was trustee and from my understanding the money was to go into an account until I was eighteen and then I would be given access. Well, on this particular day it came out into the open that my Mum had to use a large portion of that to bail that certain uncle out of jail which my Nan had apparently never found out. We also found out that my Mum was on antidepressants and all these other wonderful family secrets. I obviously focused in on the one that effected me the most. After that argument, there were discussions around what money I would be receiving. Not long before I turned eighteen, with the understanding I would get this money which I had planned to use to buy myself a car, pay for uni and the rest would be saved for an eventual house deposit; my Mum decided to tell me that it was in the paperwork that if she didn’t believe I was mature enough for the funds, she could hold them until I was 21. Then I found out that I would only be getting about 25% of what should have been there, because of the interest that the large sum of money would have accrued over nearly 11 years. Some had been spent on a jetski and also a caravan at the caravan park we grew up visiting but that’s okay because it was all going to be mine; except that now the jet-ski was in pieces in the backyard because my Mum’s ex-husband trashed it when they split up and the caravan had been demolished because the owner of the caravan park was doing illegal activities that caused everything to be taken from him. So essentially, 75% of my money had been spent and the things it was spent on that would return the value to me, were now gone. I however, being the gentle person I am said that I understood and that it was okay.

When my Nan found out, she did start putting money away to start to rebuild what was lost and I did get some money, but no-where near what I should have.

The next incident happened not long after my now Husband and I got together. My relationship with my Mum was very rocky at this stage and there had been fight upon fight leading up to me graduating school. We were at my Uncle’s house warming party, who I was extremely close with now; and my boyfriend at the time had actually gone to school with the cousin that we had not known about (which is actually how we met). My boyfriend had said to one of my other cousins (confusing I know but I wanted to keep names out of it); who was the sister of this unknown cousin, in reference to an inside joke my boyfriend and she had, “tell her I said she is a nice lady”. We all laughed at the time however that cousin went and told his Dad. I got a phone call from my Mum who had gone home with her Fiancée and my sister, telling me to come home immediately. So my boyfriend and I walked up the street (because my family and I all live stupidly close to each other), to find my uncle and my Mum’s Fiancée standing on the front porch. My Mum was nowhere to be seen. Now I will say, all of us had been drinking but it does not excuse the following. My Uncle got straight up into my boyfriends face, screaming at him for insulting his daughter and demanded to know the truth of what was said. My boyfriend told him the truth but apparently what had been repeated to my Uncle had been twisted. So both my Uncle and my Mum’s Fiancée cornered us and were both screaming at us to tell the truth. I had to actually step in front of my Uncle and push him back to stop him hitting my boyfriend.

I ended up dragging my boyfriend away and back to my other Uncle’s house to safety whilst the others yelled abuse at us whilst we walked away. From that night, I was staying at my Uncles because I refused to stay in a house with a man who cornered and abused children and a Mother who sat out the back and let it all happen and then deny that she even knew it was happening. Then comes my graduation day. I was so excited; it was the biggest day of my life so far. My boyfriend came, so did my uncle, my Mum, my Nan and my Grandparent’s on my Dad’s side. My sister was also in high school but was in class so couldn’t make it to the actual ceremony. The whole thing flys by and next minute I am waiting out the front of the assembly hall with the other students, waiting for our families to join us. My Mum was the first to get to me and she said “I need to go and sign your sister out, i’ll be back” (for those who did not grow up in Australia, if we were leaving school early or not going to our recreational sport that was including in school time, a parent or guardian had to go to the school’s office and sign you out of the school). No congratulations, nothing. Once again, something special of mine had been ruined because of my sister (other events basically include every important birthday of my life). I burst into tears as everyone else came out and asked where my Mum had gone. So, with boyfriend in tow, I went to my Mum’s house and packed up anything I could get my hands on that was mine with the intention of permanently leaving that house and them. My sister was home though and we got into an argument, followed by her calling my Nan to come and talk me out of it but I had made up my mind. So I moved into my uncle’s house temporarily.

In the meantime, my relationship with my Mum deteriorated because she denied what she had done. My Nan decided to redo her back lounge-room into a bedroom for me to move into because there was not enough room at my Uncle’s house and then it would reduce some of the tension between my Uncle and my Mum because my Uncle sided with me. After I moved in, everyone urged me to repair the relationship with my Mum, and slowly I did. My boyfriend proposed to me 3 months into our relationship and that brought everything tumbling back down. We were told we had no idea what love is, we were too young, we were only doing it to get back at my Mum (yeah don’t ask, I honestly have no idea) and he had not asked my Mum for permission (which he shouldn’t have been expected to, it was October 2012 people!) But not that we had become closer, I was drifting away from my Uncle. Situations unfolded and it became very clear that my family did not like my boyfriend. My Nan however, being the peace keeper she usual is, allowed him to come and move in with me at her house and always treated him decently well.

Then there was an incident and I cannot remember what started it but I remember being in the lounge-room with my boyfriend, Nan and Uncle and he was screaming abuse at us, threatening to kill my boyfriend if he ever saw him again. I lost it at that point and the relationship with my Uncle was permanently damaged.

The straw the broke the camels back (the camel being my relationship with my Uncle) came around not too long after that. Now to give you a bit of context so you understand how this happened. My whole life, I have heard my family bitch about each other behind the other’s back. So when one person wasn’t around, suddenly we hated them and this went around in circles. I just happened to be there every time. My Nan also runs a family business and now all three of her children work for her in her home. Now my boyfriends family does not operate like that. If they have a problem with each other, they confront each other and sort it out then and there. So two very different styles here. So one afternoon, my boyfriend was at home and I was at work. I get a message from him saying, just so you know, shit is going down at home. That was it. So when I get home, I hadn’t even finished opening the front door when my Nan started ranting and raving at me. I had no idea what had happened but apparently I was playing dumb. So after a few choice words from my Nan about my boyfriend, she decided to finally tell me what was going on. My boyfriend had heard my Uncle, bitching to my other uncle about my Mum. At this point, we were on pretty good terms with my Mum so he messaged her and said he thinks she needs to speak to this Uncle so they can fix whatever is going on. My Mum then rings the other Uncle, wanting to know what was said and then proceeds to tell him how she found out. Well that Uncle called the other Uncle to rat out my boyfriend. My Uncle had already been around and abused my boyfriend and now I was on the receiving end. After going back and forth for a while with my Nan, she said she could not trust us in her house to which I responded with ‘well do you want us to leave’. Her response, without any hesitation, was ‘yes, yes I do’. So I went out to our room, told my boyfriend we were packing our things. I called my Mum and asked her to come and get us and told her what happened. Whilst I was packing our stuff, Nan must have realised what she had said and came to us crying saying we didn’t have to leave but it was too late. When my Mum arrived, she also got into it with my Nan about abusing us; and so we moved back into my Mum’s house and forever ending my relationship with my Uncle.

Things seemed to settle down for a while which was nice but I started to feel depressed and went to see my doctor about that and some skin irritation that I was having. I had to get some MRI’s done of my spine to see if there was any pinched nerves or slipped discs that could be causing my irritation. When I went to get the results, I asked my Mum to come with me in-case the doctor was going to tell me something I didn’t understand. Whilst we were in the doctors, he told me I had degenerative discs and mild arthritis (which my Mum passed on to me). He then proceeded to ask how I had been going and if I think I needed to see a psychologist. I said I was fine and we left but whilst getting in the car my Mum asked what he was talking about. I told her I had been feeling depressed to which she started to break down and cry over. I thought she must be worried about me but what she said next made me realise all I ever needed to know about my Mum. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t notice that my daughter was feeling depressed, I must have done something wrong, how awful of a mother am I’. After everything that happened, I was the one comforting my Mum when I had just been given a lifelong diagnoses and also discussions with my doctor about possibly depression. Needless to say, the older I get, the more I understand what I could not begin to process when I was younger.

Now comes the next biggest day of my life; my wedding day. When we finally set a date and started planning, I finally saw the real side of my Mum’s family. We had planned not to have children at the wedding except for those in the bridal party, mainly because it costs too much and we were only having a small reception. Well, my family was not having that. It was expected of me to invite my entire Mum’s side of the family and they threw the biggest fit when they found out we were not extending the invite to my cousins. At first, it wasn’t even officially set, we had just mentioned that the reception was likely to be child free and it spread. We had found out that both Uncles had said that if their children weren’t invited, then they were not attending the wedding. I know this is a largely debated topic amongst the wedding community but that is not the point of me telling you this. The point is, the cousins were going to be invited to the most important part, the ceremony but without even checking with us, people made up their minds and started talking shit. My Nan and Mum tried to guilt trip and bribe me into inviting them from the moment they found out but I refused because we had also set the same rule for my Fiancées family. Next comes the ‘bridal shower’. We did it a bit different because one of my bridesmaids lives in another state and could not afford to come down each time for a separate event. So I had my hen’s party on the Saturday night, followed by an afternoon tea on the Sunday for the bridal party, including flower girls and our ushers we had and also parents and grandparents. We handed out the official invitations that afternoon. When my Nan and Mum read the invitation, which politely said that it is an adult only affair except for those involved in the ceremony; they lost it. My Nan came up to me “privately” (it was not private) and started going off about how ashamed I was of the family and how upset I was making everyone and that ‘those people’ (Fiancée’s family) were all invited and it goes on and on. My Mum ended up walking my Nan out and they left, and left me in tears. I tried to go and make it private but everyone had already seen and heard what had happened. Yet another big event ruined, although we did have a fantastic afternoon once I calmed down and managed to stop crying.

The wedding came round and My Mum and Nan played their role, my Mum wrote a nice speech that to other’s was tear jerking but to me, I saw through it. They didn’t speak to anyone and looked like they would rather be anywhere else on the planet than our big day.

My Mum has a new boyfriend who is actually a really decent guy, and she practically lives at his house, meanwhile my sister is renting with her boyfriend. So my husband and I have the house to ourselves now.

That leads me to right now, writing this to you. I have been having chest pain on and off for a few years now and it has taken a while to get a diagnosis because the doctors would simply rule out a blood clot or a heart condition and that was it, but the chest pain still continued to happen. Earlier this year, I went to a different doctors practice because I was sick of not getting an answer and still having the same issues. The doctor ran a variety of more tests, all of which came back clear. Then he said to me that since we have ruled out everything physically, we need to start looking at it as a mental condition. The doctor believes I was having anxiety attacks. At first I didn’t believe him because I didn’t feel stressed or anxious so how could I be having a anxiety or panic attack without knowing it? He gave me some research around anxiety and the more I read, the more everything seemed to fit. Not in the sense of I was fitting my symptoms into the diagnosis, but the diagnosis fit my symptoms but I was too oblivious to recognise it. I have my first psychologist appointment on Wednesday afternoon but last Monday night whilst I was getting ready for bed, I think I had my first severe anxiety attack. I was getting dressed for bed and it felt like someone had said to me ‘the building you are standing in is on fire and you are trapped’. A switch flicked and I had this overwhelming feeling of panic; my hands were shaking, my heart racing, I felt like crying but also that I just had to escape. Luckily I still had enough of capacity to realise that there was nothing to panic about and tried to immediately calm myself down. It took quite some time but eventually I managed to fall asleep. Since then, and it has only been a week. I feel like I am spiralling out of control. I am always on edge, I feel like I need to just run and not come back. I can hear something that I wasn’t expecting and it makes me jump out of my skin. I am light headed all the time and I am constantly on the verge of crying. My head literally feels like it will explode sometimes when people are talking to me for too long. I feel like ripping my skin off being it gets so irritated (doesn’t get a rash or even go red, it just feels irritated) and it is so hard to explain that irritation to people. I can read something or someone can be trying to have a conversation with me and I just get so overwhelmed that I feel like I am going to pass out, and it can be very simple conversations too. I just feel like I am going crazy. Maybe I am going crazy, I mean if I read what I had gone through above, which isn’t even really half of it but it just so happens that I cannot remember most of the other half; I wouldn’t be surprised if I am going crazy.

It feels good to get this out because no-one seems to understand what I’m trying to say, I don’t even understand it. But I want to write something each week with how I am feeling and my progress, whether it be up or down. Especially once I started seeing the psychologist.

I know there are others going through the exact same thing that I am and I am hoping that by at least sharing my story, it will not only help me but help someone else who feels like they are all alone. Just like I feel right now even though I am surrounded by family and friends who love me and want to help me. They don’t know how to though, and I don’t know how I need to be helped either. I’m not mad at them for not knowing how to help me, or not understanding what I’m going through. How can I be mad at someone for not having as messaged up of a life as mine and so they function like a normal person?

So, If you feel like I feel, or have some shit going on in your life that really sucks; I hear you! I understand!

I apologise for the anonymity of this, but I am not in a position for certain family members to read this or know how I feel, otherwise my husband and I would be kicked out of home and we cannot afford a place of our own yet.