See part two here: http://hypnobreakthrough.com/index.php/2020/12/14/my-story-part-two/

I left off in part two with packing the car and leaving,  after a night of being attacked by my alcoholic drug addicted husband. 

The year to follow I was having nightmares, panic attacks and was very fearful. I was dating off and on. Some people were saying you need to be alone for a while. At the same time, others were saying now is your time, play the field, just go wild and have fun! I think I did a bit of both. I ended up telling off a couple men, which of course, wasn’t fully warranted, but therapeutic for me. 

I quit my job which I had for years.They were very short staffed, the reason I was doing 16 hour shifts, and I couldn’t get a day off even for my divorce and all that I needed to do. They all knew most of what I was going through, I was (and still am) close with some of the staff and my co-workers.

I was starting to burn out not only in life but my nursing career as well. I tried a few other non-nursing jobs, including a funeral home; which ended up being a shady operation. The FBI came in like a scene from the “Men In Black” movie! 

I knew I was getting worse mentally. Depression and anxiety was taking over. I was shocked at my own reaction, because I was free now and safe. However, I didn’t feel that way at all. I was physically sick a lot of the time as well. I went to a few places looking for help. I remember more crying in the car in the parking lots, feeling helpless, hopeless and lost. I used the crisis text lines and life line (crisis text line in the US 741-741 the suicide hotline “lifeline” 1-800-273-8255)

 

I met a man while signing up to volunteer, just before the holidays. We dated some, but became better friends (and still are good friends) than anything else. He was going through a rough time as well. We became a support system for each other. He was the only one I felt fully understood where I was coming from. He told me one day while walking around in the park, that he was considering a big move across the country to start fresh. He suggested I might want to do the same. My lease was up at the end of that month. I told my landlord I may be moving out of the state, and if I stayed it likely wouldn’t be a full year. It was a small, privately-owned house. The owners informed me they were going to sell it anyway, and asked if I could be out by the end of the month. That meant I had two weeks. My friend however wasn’t sure when he was going. He had to get a few things in order still. Later, health issues kept him from traveling. 

I sold and gave away most of my things. My friend who suggested the move, arranged for my mother to come for a surprise visit to stay with me the last few days before I moved. This was such a shock, but amazing to have my mom at this time. I don’t think she knew how bad I was. Of course I didn’t want to upset her. She knew I was struggling and agreed a big move might be best. I was very fearful all the time. Even though I had a restraining order and knew my ex didn’t know where I lived. I also had a couple good friends that I knew I could call in a pinch. 

I got on a bus for a three day ride with a one-way ticket. 

To add insult to injury, the first person to sit next to me was a shady looking character who was slurring his words, non-stop talking, and had a “water” bottle. He spilled his drink on my seat. I stood up quickly, and knew at that point, it was not water in his bottle. He then tried to wipe off the seat of my pants. He put his hands on my bottom, rubbing the booze into my soaked jeans! I thought, of all people, this person had to sit next to me?!?

Luckily we were just coming to a rest stop. The driver let me get my bag from under the bus and change my clothes. The drunk was not allowed back on. I was numb.

I had a place lined up for a live-in job. This was someone I knew, (or thought I did) online from a divorce forum, that ran a business out of their home. That situation ended up being something entirely different and unsafe, not what I was led to believe it was. I found my way to a live-in caretaker job within three weeks. I was feeling pretty proud of getting out of that situation so quickly. 

I was pet sitting, house sitting and caretaking the first  and into the second year in California. 

I met and fell in love with my now third husband. We both had been through such terrible times with our exes. As he put it once, we were “strongly professing our independence, as we were both falling in love.“ 

Neither of us were particularly looking for or ready for anything serious. We went on a lot of hikes and ate a lot of pizza together. We got along like old friends from the very beginning. We brought some light into eachothers darkness, but cautiously not getting too involved with each others’ lives. 

I started therapy. I was still having nightmares, barely sleeping, very anxious and depressed. I was so grateful not to have the responsibility and pressure of nursing. I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue at all. Within my therapy I was having a lot of trouble remembering and speaking about everything. EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) This was very helpful. I realized things from my childhood that were causes of how I ended up in the situations I had. That was empowering to know the reasons. How one thing led to another and where my point of view came from. There were reasons and I could see it. We worked on emotions and processed through the worst situations. 

When I started therapy I told the therapist that  I had a bad divorce, and was verbally/emotionally  abused and moved across the country but, I couldn’t remember the whole event from the day I left my ex husband. I told her that I was still anxious, suicidal and not sleeping. At that time, I had no idea all the stuff from my childhood had anything to do with any of this. I had no idea that I was having post traumatic symptoms or even C- PTSD (complex PTSD). See part one: http://hypnobreakthrough.com/index.php/2020/12/04/my-own-story-part-one/

Memories started coming back.

There had been missing pieces to the night I left, I couldn’t remember it fully.  I started writing a book to tell my story, and hopefully help the memories.  I was healing and starting to feel better.  I wanted, as I do now with this condensed version, to show people you can come back from a rough childhood and very low points. I had nightmares occasionally and flashes of the abuse in my waking state as well. 

This is when I realized I had actually been knocked unconscious. I remembered being in the closet on the floor, I couldn’t piece together how I got there and where he was. It was all coming back. 

My now husband, ‘Significant other’ at that time, was supportive and encouraging, without any pity or treating me as though I was damaged. I needed this relationship to be equal. I didn’t need pity, or a savior/hero. He had been through much the same and understood. Knowing he understood and us being able to openly talk about it, was very helpful. 

Back to nursing

I did end up getting my nursing license changed to be valid in California.  I was definitely feeling more stable and more independent. I still had a hard time, not just personally but with nursing all together. See my article on why I left nursing here: http://hypnobreakthrough.com/index.php/2020/10/24/why-i-left-nursing/ 

Please know this is my own experience and I’m not speaking for the whole of nurses or ALL medical facilities. I was very frustrated in my career for many reasons.

We moved in together and I got back to work on my book, thinking things are finally settling down. I started painting during this time. Mainly as a stress reliever, a form of self art therapy. To get some creativity flowing and let go of the stress from my nursing job. I had never picked up a paintbrush other than to paint a wall in my adult life. I didn’t care about the outcome. It was in the action of painting, the doing of,  that was so therapeutic and relaxing for me. It still is, a year later. 

I was asking for clarity in meditations knowing that nursing wasn’t for me, knowing there had to be something else I was supposed to be doing. Then I was called from the universe, through dreams, hypnotherapy and meditations to get back to hypnotherapy. (in part one I tell of taking a holistic health course where I went on to focus on hypnotherapy) I went for an interview with a small school close to home and had a serious deja vu experience like never before. 

I started my classes and became certified. Such a dream come true. This is all during the pandemic, we had to switch our classes to zoom. My significant other and I married on my 54th birthday, no ceremony, nothing, we got dressed up, we wore our masks and signed the papers etc and went to eat to celebrate. We both felt much closer even through the lockdowns and quarinteins of covid. We both were so very thankful to be spending so much time together and not stuck in this with our exes . It made our relationship stronger. As my son put it we had a social distance bonding formality rather than a “wedding”  

Here we are, still in the throes of covid. Very happily married for six months at the time of this writing. We’ve been living together for three years now. Three of my paintings have sold. Two  have been printed in a magazine. My Hypnotherapy dream is getting closer and closer. 

The moral of the story is, that there is always hope! You really never know. Nothing is impossible. 

Thank you so very much for reading my story, and for being here. This was hard to write it all out. I do firmly believe that it’s very helpful to share your story. It’s therapeutic for the writer and the reader as well. I do not intend for this to make anyone sad, uneasy or provoke sympathy. I have, as stated, been through therapy and living a very happy life now. I look forward to the future. I do hope that whatever you’re going through, or have been through, that you too can look forward with hope.

Feel free to reach out with any thoughts on this, or any other of my articles. I love hearing from you. Any questions about hypnotherapy or ideas for a future blog post.

Pamela Topjian LVN, CHt

You can see part one here: http://hypnobreakthrough.com/index.php/2020/12/04/my-own-story-part-one/

On to part two….

I left part one with all that had happened in 2007, with divorcing and marrying again as a pivotal point of the hardest years to follow. 

That marriage was very much a roller coaster ride. He had his own mental health issues that at the time, I felt could be helped once he was able to get the help he needed. I was a new nurse working night shift at a hospital. At this point I loved nursing. I knew as a nurse I would have good health insurance and once he was on the road to getting his issues dealt with by a professional he would be back to the caring soul I used to know. I didn’t know anything about alcoholics or addiction at this time. He worked off and on, he was drinking a lot, self medicating for sure. 

 The main income was my responsibility. The money seemed to be off, all the time. I couldn’t grasp what was going on. I was new to handling any budget as my first husband was the one in charge and always made it very clear it was his money. I was also going through issues with my young teen daughter that was given the freedom to come and go at either house, her dads or with me in an apartment. At first it was going great, before I married. 

I was naïve and trusted my first husband to take care of things and keep to his word. This was my first BIG mistake and the second even worse mistake was marriage number two. 

To try to make a long story short and hit the basic points of how difficult these years were; My daughter didn’t want to come around, the new husband was always drunk, obnoxious and was very suspicious of everything and everyone. Money kept disappearing, debt was a part of life, we moved a lot (leaving the details to my autobiography/memoir, which is in the works as well).

This led to us moving out of state, and not seeing my daughter for years. I feel so much guilt around this now. However at the time, I did feel it would help the situation. I always thought things were going to get better in the marriage with each new step, new job or move. That my daughter could visit and I didn’t need to stay in the area where my ex was, where things were only getting worse between her and I. This did not go as hoped. I felt so alone and confused.  My marriage was getting more mentally and verbally abusive as time went on. In the early stages even as I was older, I became pregnant and had a miscarriage just past the 3 month mark, so we had told everyone. Of course, that was a blessing in disguise. 

My (adult) son was having serious personal issues that also led to a separation between him and I. He was under my care his whole childhood at least. He was living a very unhealthy and dangerous lifestyle. I won’t go into those details, as that is his own story. He is in my life now and we are closer than ever. 

My sister was the worst as far as betrayal, and disloyalty. To this day – more than 10 year later our relationship is rocky. Again, more details will be in my book/memoir.

I took classes to go higher in my nursing, going for my BSN but that ended barely before it got started. I wasn’t getting sleep, he was not supportive and I still had to work full time. I thought if I could go higher in my nursing degree I would have better job options. I was always more natural and decided to go for a holistic health course, less stressful and actually therapeutic for me to be in that environment. Learning about energy work, and holistic health modalities. Some spiritual classes as well. I made some great friends there, and one I’m still in touch with to this day. This is where I was introduced to hypnotherapy. I went on to put my focus there, and completed that level one and two course. I had a dream for a healing gardens holistic health center, it never left me. Life had me go through a few more obstacles before I could get close to that dream. 

I felt stuck. Looking back, I am shocked I felt that way. I would have been so much better off on my own. I know that I felt guilty, he was in pain himself, deep pain, and I wasn’t able to help him. If I left, it was like leaving a person who developed a physical illness, because it was too hard to deal with. That’s how I felt, until it came to my attention all the lies and drug use. 

Near the end he was a monster, a literal monster, not himself at all. I wondered actually if he was possessed. However, in hindsight, having worked in detox and recovery, it was the drugs mixed with alcohol. That last year of our marriage I would come home from a 12 or 16 hour shift at work on the Alzheimer’s unit to him yelling in my face. Being accused of something all the time, he was sure I wasn’t at work. Sometimes he was asleep in the yard, or laying on the kitchen floor with the refrigerator open. I knew he wasn’t safe to be alone. I was very concerned at this point not yet fully realizing all that was going on; I was concerned with the possibility of early onset dementia or some other mental disorder or illness. More often than not he was incoherent and unable to fully care for himself. 

I took over his medical care, and got him in to see a few different doctors and mental health professionals. He ended up in one mental health facility after another. Which was not very much easier on me as one might think, other than knowing what I was going to come home to, and able to sleep a little better. I was going to visit him when I was so exhausted and nearing a nervous breakdown myself. I couldn’t get information from his doctors, and I was baffled and frustrated by this. I now know that he would have to have signed papers that said it was okay to share information with his wife, he obviously didn’t want that. 

He would come home with new prescriptions and soon go back to the same behaviour or worse. I did everything I knew how to help set up the house to be safer for him and to make sure he took his medications as prescribed etc. Not unlike my Alzheimer’s patients at work. 

After the 3rd facility I was sobbing in my car a lot, I was breaking down and exhausted. I was trying to be there for my husband, feeling hopeless and helpless. Until, one of my friends whose husband had worked with him told me to check around the house in his closet or any place he may hide things. I had to pack him some extra clothes since he was staying longer at this facility and as I did I found a little bottle of whiskey in his closet, I then remembered what my friend said and found more bottles all over the house. 

I knew I was done at this point.  I still didn’t want to leave him until he was set on his own and was equipped to take care of himself or find another place. Everything started coming to light. He came home and I told him what I found and that I was divorcing him, but would let him get on his feet first. I did nothing at all to help him anymore. 

Not long after that I came home one day after another long shift at work. He was awake and just in a rage. I went straight to my room and closed the door, no locks on the door so when he opened it I told him to just please leave me alone and then put something in front of the door. That night I ended up being beat up, knocked out in my closet and waking up calling the police to be able to leave. I didn’t remember the details until the following year. I had blocked much of it out until I was able to get some therapy. 

I filled my car with a few of my belongings and never went back. I had a friend that I spent two nights on her couch while I got my own place etc. While speaking to my divorce lawyer I found out many lies he had told me about his past. I really didn’t know this person that I married so quickly at all.

I do apologize, this seems to have gotten out of hand. It’s much longer than expected, and I will need to add a part three. Thank you so much for reading up to this point. I hope you will get out of all of this, that it’s okay to share your story, it can be empowering. You are not alone, I know my story is not that different than so many others. I hope some of my red flags that I missed, will empower you to notice yours.

The best is yet to come (I promise)

I feel it’s important to share for several reasons. To help others know they are not alone who may have similar backgrounds, and know they too, can get through it. There is always hope. Also to show there is no stigma and shame in telling their own story. 

This is part one of my own story of PTSD, high anxiety and deep depression. I’ve shared a few of my past experiences and issues within my articles and posts however never told the whole story. Recently watching podcasts such as “Back on Track” and “Moments of Clarity” have helped me to realize how important it is to share our stories. 

I don’t want to make this all gloom and doom or make anyone sad, the good parts will be near the end – I promise. My intention is to tell my story of what I’ve been through in my life, how I got through it all, the insights, breakthroughs and clarity I’ve gained through it all. Also to show what  led to where I am today. 

I don’t want to write out my whole life story. I’m 54 years old, and until about 4 years ago life had been pretty rough more so than not. So many details will be left unsaid but I will try to hit the areas that had the most impact. Nothing unusual, much of it is all too common. Maybe you will relate with some of this, and my hope is, to show you that you are not alone in your life traumas.

I grew up in the 70’s before the law about “deadbeat dads” my parents divorced when I was 9 years old. With no help from my father whatsoever, my mother did her best to raise 3 daughters. I was left alone most of the time,  and often hungry with no food in the house. My sisters were teens and went out with friends and had jobs off and on. We moved often, sometimes having been evicted. I had been sexually assaulted as a kid by a teenage boy and his father in the neighborhood. By people in authority and date raped twice as a teen. I never received any counseling or therapy for any of this as a child. Only recently have I even told anyone about that. 

My eldest sister was killed in a car crash at age 18, just 2 days before my 14th birthday. One major thing happened that has stuck with me in a bad way, mainly because it was tied to that memory. An adult told me while we were at the hospital not to cry, they said “don’t you cry, you have to be strong for your mother” I can remember this as if it was yesterday. My mother of course was in hysterics. 

I didn’t want to make her more sad or upset, I ended up going into a sort of a shocked, stoic state which actually made my family worry more about me than if I had just cried it out. 

To this day I have trouble showing emotion. To this day I try to spare my mother anything that might be upsetting to her. 

So growing up without a father figure, without many adults around at all really, no example of a good relationship, or proper family dynamics. I had my first born at age 17, I took this very seriously, I loved my baby, as any mother does no matter the age, and was the best mother I could be. At this time my mother and I became much closer. I went to beauty school mainly because I could do that without a H.S education and take classes in the evenings and on Saturdays – I did eventually obtain my GED while  living with my cousin, taking care of her premature infant twins with my young son while she and her husband worked during the day. I loved this time in my life. Even though I was young, taking care of little ones was so rewarding and it just came natural to me.

I worked in day care centers and moved out on my own with my young son. I  married a man that ended up being an alcoholic, controlling, verbally and emotionally abusive. I didn’t know how to share my feelings, or show emotions, I didn’t know how to stand up for myself and have any kind of healthy relationship or family unit. One of my friends at the time I was talking about marriage, told me that I was acting as if I was buying a car with a check list of pros/cons.

I had another baby, this time at home. Which was absolutely amazingly wonderful. I wasn’t pleased with my hospital birth with my son and started doing research after that on natural childbirth and midwives.

I did feel like I was a good mother and enjoyed the kids immensely. I used cloth diapers, made my own baby food, did crafts, and school projects. I drove the kids around to friends, had their friends sleep over, made dinners every night, had birthday parties and attended the school functions ( most of this while my husband was at work, or on hunting trips) So I kept my focus there. All the while saying to myself, at least he doesn’t hit me, at least I’m not struggling for food for myself or my children… To live in a marriage with “at least” “at least” “at least” isn’t healthy at all. We moved around a lot ourselves. I’m not sure why honestly. He always wanted something more and better.

My life was much better than it had been during my childhood and although I loved taking care of little ones being a nanny and working in day care,  I wanted to do this with my own children. He was always changing his mind, or being contradicting – saying one thing at one time then another.  This happened with wanting more children as well as many other things throughout the whole marriage. We both had boys as teens however he didn’t have custody. We did have his son  live with us as a teen for a short time. Later that young man lost his life tragically. While he was living with us he told me he had hoped to get to know his father better during this time, but it wasn’t happening. I tried to tell my husband this and he didn’t have anything to say about it. He was working second shift, and out drinking after work. 

There was no more discussion about more children or not, since he had a vasectomy after our daughter was born. 

Not to say the whole marriage was terrible, we got along for the most part, but looking back I felt as though I was walking on eggshells, and avoided him or kept my mouth shut much of the time. I had nothing positive to compare it to.

During this 15 year marriage I had a bout with cancer, and overcame it without chemo. He never would talk to me about it, at all. That was a big turning point for me, at a time I needed my spouse the most, he wasn’t there for me. I was apprenticing with midwives which I loved and we moved away just as I was going strong in my apprenticeship and getting involved in the states midwives association. He viewed my apprenticeship as a hobby. During this time I was also working as a teachers aid in the public school. I think at that time I knew the marriage wasn’t going to be forever.

I went to nursing school just as my baby girl was starting her teens. When I was accepted into nursing school, I knew that was my ticket to independence – I mostly avoided my husband during this time and he was drinking even more. During that same time I started talking to an old friend, a man I had briefly dated in my teens, but was more of a friend back then. He was very caring when I was pregnant and even came to the hospital when I was having my baby at age 17. My baby’s father wasn’t in the picture. We hadn’t spoken in over 20 years. This was the mid 2000’s and social media was just getting popular. He was going through a divorce himself, he is the one that convinced me to try counseling, because my mind was made up and I didn’t want to. Before I even finished my schooling I moved out.

We did try counseling for a short time before that but he wasn’t compliant with the suggestions of the counselor at all. He thought the problem was all mine, stating I needed counseling because I was depressed, and distant, which of course I was. He took no responsibility in the downfall of the marriage. 

Without getting into too much detail, the old friend  moved across the country and we ended up married in less than a year. Probably the biggest mistake of my life, and in part two you will see why. However only recently have I come realize that was a catalyst to where I am now.

This was 2007. Within that year,  my father passed away from a brain aneurysm, I had my finals for nursing school, graduated, and passed my state boards, divorced, moved out from a 15 year marriage and remarried to a man I barely knew.( phew) I still am pretty surprised I did, although I now understand that I felt alone. We were living in the area where my husband was from and I had made very little friends, It was a small town and I was always an outsider. He was pretty well known and worked for the state. I latched on to this old friend mistaking familiarity for love. I didn’t realize at that time who or what he really was. It was all a very confusing time. 

I will leave this as part one, and continue part two in my next post. 

Thank you for reading, and for being here, please feel free to share your story. I’m here for you. Please always feel free to reach out any time with any questions or concerns. If you have any ideas for future article, I’d love to hear your ideas.  

More to come…. I hope you come back to read part two. The worst and the best is yet to come. 

HypnoBreakthrough.com

Pamela Topjian, LVN, CHt