Def Leppard is Helping Me Heal May 2, 2013

When I was 12 years old, I discovered Def Leppard. I began listening to Pyromania and thinking, “if only I could scream like that and feel better”. I never tried til recently at group therapy and man was it a relief. So, Def Leppard became a large part of my life. When Hysteria came out, there were tons of songs that hit the top ten and they consistently stayed on the MTV top 20 videos for several weeks. Song after song and video after video, they rose. The music was great, but the one song that stood out and meant the most to me was Gods of War. In college I wrote an essay explaining line by line of the song and what it meant to me, as that was the assignment. I discovered why the song meant so much. If you know me, you know ma or have read anything on the abuse I have been through, allow me to share the lyrics and try to view them from “the abused” point of view. (This is the lyrics without the repeated chorus lines)

Feelin’ like it’s all over
Feelin’ like there’s no love
Feelin’ like it’s not easy
Breathin’ life in the dust

On a countdown to zero
Take a ride on the nightmare machine
There ain’t gonna be heroes
There ain’t gonna be anythin’

Here it comes here comes the night
Here it comes hell in the night
Here it comes here comes the night
(When we all fall down)

When we walk into silence
When we shadow the sun
When we surrender to violence
Then the damage is done
(Put away that gun)

I don’t want to be there
I don’t wanna be anywhere

We’re fightin’ for the gods of war
But what the hell we fightin’ for
Yeah fightin’ with the gods of war

But I’m a rebel,
And I ain’t gonna fight no more!
No way!

Heavy!

Makes sense doesn’t it? Being “the abused” makes you constantly feel like giving up and ending everything, only to be stuck back in the thought of “things will get better, I won’t surrender by committing violence to myself ans stooping to his level.” Then I received the Mirror Ball 2 CD set and heard one of the last songs on disc two and discovered the perfect song to define me today. As you know I am determined to heal and no longer allow my past to define me. The song, Undefeated. These lyrics (again, cutting the repeated chorus) are a bit longer, but pay attention, Def Leppard gave me strength. And I am surrounding myself with as much strength as I can, God, people, family, and yes, music. Thank You Def Leppard!!!

Look in these eyes
These eyes don’t lie
And they say that if you don’t blink
Then you don’t die

Now feel this heart, it beats so tough
And if you ever gonna doubt my faith
Then I’ll call your bluff
‘Cause you ain’t that tough

The lies in your eyes can’t defeat me
I ain’t ever going down
I was down on my knees completely
And you will never take my crown

But I rise from my feet
You can’t beat me
Oh, and that’s why I gotta stay
And that’s why I gotta say

I’m undefeated
And standing tall
I don’t want to be the loser
When the winner takes it all

I’m undefeated
I got this scar
I will wash this blood away
Live to fight another day

I feel your pain, I hear your words
But there ain’t nothing
You can say to me
I ain’t already heard

These cuts run deep
Close to the bone
But I gotta keep getting up
‘Cause I been down so long
So let’s get it on

I walk through the fire
With the flames on my skin
I wanna be the last man standing
I’ll never surrender, I’ll never give in
I just got to win

It’s stand or fall
You can laugh and walk around me
With my back against the wall

I’m undefeated
I got the prize
If you got the will to win
You got to take it on the chin

 

The pictures above are a portion of my Lep collection. From original posters and prints from the mid 80’s, to the autographs, pics and personal photos of certain members of the band. Yep, during the Adrenalize tour, I met two members. All are original.

I survived abuse and you can too. Please know that you are not alone!!!

Possible Victim Answer April 14, 2013

I’ve been really trying to analyze why I consistently become a target for abuse. Upon my online search for why women are targets, I found a ton of explanations. All of which seem to apply to me.

One article I read, written by a former abusive man, said that a gentle, kind woman is usually a selfless woman. Meaning she is willing to do anything to make a relationship work. Willing to give her entire self to one man. As most men find this attractive, abusive men see this as an ability to “mold”. He feels he can mold her into anything he likes. This becomes mental and emotional abuse that leads to different forms of physical and sexual abuse as time goes on. In analyzing myself, I found that every time I get involved in a relationship, I tend to forget about everyone and everything else and concentrate on the relationship. I never realized this til recently. In fact, the reasons mainly why I have kept far away from family was because of men. They know that my family influences me and pull me away. I become engrossed in them and never even realize that I forget them. So, I guess selfless has defined me.

Another I read spoke of low self-esteem. This one hits home big time. We already know from other articles I have written involving the abuse I have been through, that most of my childhood was engrossed by belittling me and making me feel as though I was fat, nothing, and never going to amount to anything. I am finally aware that this abuse has affected my entire look on life. Because I feel like “nothing”, the moment anyone shows any attraction to me, I cling to them. I feel as though I need them to survive. I become dependent on them. They may not be what I had in mind for a “perfect man”, but I settle for them just because they like me. I feel as though I will never do any better and I should take it while I can because the chance for true love may never come around again. I heard from everyone that the “perfect man” doesn’t exist and true love comes around once in a lifetime and when I find it to hold on tight and never let go. This is how I had believed. Someone loves me, he may not be perfect, but he’s mine, and this must be love, so don’t give up. Man, this sounds like a big target to me. After all, my idea of a perfect man is not much at all.

The Perfect Man = gentle, patient, someone who holds me when I cry, someone who will listen and understand me, someone who will love me wholly and truly and never be afraid to show it til the day I die.

Hmm….actually, this is not that bad. Shouldn’t anyone want this? I’m not looking for perfect looks, or a man that makes a lot of money. I only want true love. True love means not ever having a bone in your body to want to hurt someone in any way. That is perfection to me.

So, what have I learned? Yes, be kind and gentle, but be firm and stay safe. Do everything I can to raise my self-esteem and break the chain of abuse from my childhood that continues to affect me to this day. Become independent and never again dependent, and let people know that. And wait for my idea of the perfect man. I know many people who are married to this type of man, so I know he exists. I have a lot of learning and self-training to go through to achieve this. But, I think it will be worth it for the RIGHT relationship to come along.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) February 5, 2013

If you have ready any of what I have gone through, you will find it given that I have this. The same doctor that diagnosed me with Anxiety Disorder, diagnosed me with PTSD. He said that there really isn’t any medication for it, however, he gave me medication to help me sleep. He said counseling is my best choice.

My sleep gets terrible at times. I will experience night terrors wherein I wake in hysterics and sometimes in odd places. Like my closet. Sometimes the nightmares don’t even seem scary to other people but are terrifying to me. The doctor gave me Ambien for the bad days. Or, if I haven’t had sleep in days due to it. Which is seeming to happen a lot lately.

I also get what I call “waves” of terror in the awake time too. I will think I see one of them, or see something that reminds me of them and for a flash, relive the experiences (abuse) all over again. It completely debilitates me at times. I stop in my tracks and have to regain myself. Certain sounds, shows, or smells do it too.

Again, counseling and medication costs money and that is not something that grows on trees around here. But I continue to work on this daily.

Bipolar January 29, 2013

It was the break I took in the hospital where the psychiatrists discovered that there was a bigger problem. The ability to consistently and abruptly change moods was bipolar. Yet at this point in my life, anger was added to the already existent cycle of being happy, depressed and suicidal. The first cycle started when I was 12. As time went on and I began to attempt to heal, anger became pretty prominent.

The doctors prescribed Lamictal. This ended up not working very well. The mood swings were further apart, but still extreme. Of course the ever increasing house of abuse I was living in didn’t help. My psychiatrist quit his practice with no referrals and I was left with no psychiatrist. In the gap between doctors, in finding one, then waiting to get in, I ran out of meds and things got bad again. The new psychiatrist diagnosed me with a number of things after a long talking appointment. and prescribed me Depakote. This worked the best. I just kept going off of them because I felt I was better. Then crash and have to go back on them.

Right before moving to Oregon, I was diagnosed with a number of physical health problems. One of them was the inability to tolerate Depakote. I couldn’t get back in to see my psychiatrist before I left, so I just stopped taking them. I still get the mood swings, only now I pray like crazy through them. I now just have to wait to see what’s next on that boat.

Depression

At age 12, my life was coming to head and fast. The abuse had escalated and I felt as though I was no longer wanted. I remember this age well. My health, both mentally and physically. The physical part will be included in the Surviving Death and Physical Health section.

It was at this time that I spent tons of time in the counselor’s office at school. On Guam, they were actual counselor’s and were made available to students to help with any need. I didn’t know how to express myself when it came to the abusive problems I was going through, so I became depressed. I began to go through this cycle of being happy, then depressed, then suicidal and back around to the first. Looking back, the change from each was abrupt and for no reason. When I actually tried abuse, I was referred to a Naval psychologist who saw me once, then ignored me and began talking to my parents. In the ninth grade, the cycle continued and I started to going to the counselors there. Mom says they contacted her saying something wasn’t right with me and that was her clue to change something. After my parents became separated, they sent me to the states to stay with relatives. My mom soon followed and everything came out. The psychiatrist at that time diagnosed me with depression, but no medication.

Eventually I stopped going to her. Throughout the next 14 years, I was able to manage or self-medicate to get by. Smoking, alcohol, marijuana and prescription pain killers became an off and on again thing for me. Always able to stop. But then, picking them up again when things got bad.

I was thirty when things came to head. I became so depressed that I couldn’t stand to be around myself. A number of reasons were given at that time as to why the depression came on, but looking back, I believe it was pressure coming to boil. I was caring for a father who I believed didn’t love me, trying my hardest to juggle a full time job, nursing dad, being a single mom, cooking, cleaning and going to college. I bursted. I went to the local free clinic for help. They prescribed me Zoloft.

Things were fine for a while. I went off medication again after the move. Then pressure built again and that began the cycle of suicide again. I went to my primary doctor and he prescribed Lexapro. A few months later, while on medication, I fell to a new low. Suicide became a scary truth. I began running my car off the road hoping for a wreck. My ex-husband found me one day about drink bleach and down a bottle of medication. I don’t remember what it was. He had me go back to my doctor. Before the doctor even asked what I was there for, he said it might be time for me to considering taking a break in a hospital.

The results to the hospital stay will be discussed in Bipolar. As for the depression portion, that diagnosis still exists and is something I struggle with daily. At that time I was prescribed a large dose of Seroquel that later was switched to Wellbutrin. Seroquel made me feel like a zombie, just numb to the world and always groggy. Wellbutrin has done me very well.

Seeing Them Everywhere January 27, 2013

I find it interesting that the bad times (memories/feelings) come and go so fast. I seem to be haunted by every man that abused me. Did you ever have one of those days that you kept seeing your abuser on faces of other people? Everywhere I go today, I think I’m seeing one of them. I look a little closer, and its not them. Then I think it would be impossible to randomly see them. Then I turn my head and think I’m seeing a different one. Flashes of memories of the abuse hit me like waves every time I think I see one. I’m not sure I will ever heal from all the pain. But how does one stop remembering? Or are we supposed to remember for a reason?

If you experience this, know that you are not alone. I would love to hear from you as I feel I am alone in this all the time.

Protected: James January 25, 2013

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Protected: Dad – Healing Attempt

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Protected: Matt….Part Two

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Protected: Steve….Part Two January 2, 2013

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