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.
Pamela Topjian, LVN, CHt
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