Today I went to get a package I was expecting and was shocked to get the birthday card I didn’t want. I must have looked as terrible as I felt because Lorie asked if I was ok. I stuttered as I answered her. I can’t say I wasn’t surprised by what was in that purple envelope. I hoped for better but I am always left wanting more. It brought up a lot of memories and emotions.
In February of 2014 I was hospitalized for cellulitis that took over my left leg. From my foot to the top of my thigh it looked like my leg had been dipped in boiling barbecue sauce and swollen to a huge size. Before this I had been fervently going to therapy at a pastor’s home and working on issues I had had all my life and had moved a lot of superficial issues out of the way. This trip to the hospital was big for me. I had never had anyone help me before. I had never been able to trust anyone with myself before.
The week before I went to the hospital, I had a bad flu, following a 24 hour telethon, put on by my nonprofit. I was exhausted and the flu had caused this rash I had been nursing for years to go crazy. I didn’t have health insurance and I had been afraid to go to the doctor. A few days before I went to the hospital my family called the police because I wouldn’t go to the local hospital. They thought I was suicidal. They didn’t know anything about the process they were trying to put me into, that I wouldn’t get medical attention and that I wasn’t suicidal. Police and paramedics showed up to arrest me. I kept my head straight and proved I was not crazy or suicidal and had plans to go to Legacy Salmon Creek on a particular day. The paramedic agreed when they saw that I was trying to eat plain yogurt and broccoli, that was trying to do well by myself. He checked my vitals and agreed I was ok but that my leg was obviously sick and I better do what I promised or they would have to take me in against my will.
This over the top response of my family was out of the ordinary since they usually ignored me but I was used to their attempt at controlling me. My best friend and business partner had shown up. She had experience with people in mental distress and she was quietly explaining what would happen to me if I went with the first responders and they looked remorseful. They just wanted me to get medical attention.
The night before I let Karen G Clemenson take me to the hospital I decided to trust her with every secret I had ever kept about my body because I had no one that I trusted. This trip to the hospital was the hardest and scariest thing I had ever done until this point of my life. While I was in the hospital I had to let people help me. I wasn’t used to that. I wasn’t used to people not being disgusted with my body. I wasn’t used to not having everything blamed on my weight. I was so sick that I don’t remember most of what happened in the 4 days I was there, although I do remember them being shocked that I refused the commode and would drag my sick leg to the toilet, once Karen, who never left my side, helped me get my leg out of bed to go to the bathroom. I even showered daily until the nurses found out and let me know that with my open wounds that wasn’t ok. Because I was so active, I went home 4 days earlier than most people with my same infection.
But something else happened to me during this time of being really sick and needing Karen’s help; I had deep wounds at the top and bottom of my leg that I couldn’t dress and she was the only one that was willing to help me. Something in me broke. The thing that let me think that the way my family treated me was normal. When I got out of the hospital I had to continue to follow up with doctors and get a primary. This was when I started to learn of diagnosis that I had had for a long time, some of them probably most of my life. As the diagnosis piled up I had less and less to give to anyone and I could no longer ignore the mental illness that was plaguing me.
My business partner and best friend had become my wife and I noticed that she flinched and over reacted sometimes. After I had seen any of my family members, besides my nieces and nephews, I would dissociate and often become so depressed that I would forget to eat or take my meds and most of the time, barely got out of bed for days. A phone call could send me over the edge. I realized I needed help. I was being an abuser and I was not taking care of myself.
It took over a year to find the right meds for my mental health. It took longer to find all my diagnosis and the correct amounts of medications. I promised to always take my medications because I know when I don’t, I can become mentally abusive to Karen and she doesn’t deserve that and neither do I.
I have tried to share my diagnosis with my family. They include:
- Fibromyalgia
- Psoriatic Arthritis
- Osteoarthritis
- Lymphedema
- Hiatal Hernia
- Gastrointestinal Reflux Disease
- Diabetes
- Chronic Migraine (I have scars on my brain that prove I had this since I was a child)
- Trigeminal Neuralgia
- Endometrial Cancer
- Generalized Anxiety Disorder
- Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
- Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
- Major Depressive Disorder
My many therapist over the past 9 years have agreed I am an Emotional Neglect and Emotional Abuse Survivor and they all agreed that I needed to separate from my parents. I had hoped it could be temporary but I don’t think that is the case.
There are a lot of reasons that holidays and special occasions are hard for me and I don’t feel the need to go into detail anymore. With the death of both Nana and Grandpa this year, I feel like I need to live up to the standard they set for me. I know that I have thrown a few tantrums as I healed over the years. I needed to get out my feelings and I chose to use my blog to do that. Not really because I wanted to hurt my abusers but because I know that other people can benefit from my process. With the help of medication and therapy I have healed a lot in my brain and in my heart. I have abilities I haven’t had before and although I have the right to write and talk about my life, I don’t need to by immature about it, especially if I am aware of it so my writing has and will continue to change. This is as close to an apology as I am going to come to for what I have written in the past. I am not sorry for sharing what other people did to me.
Learning to live with all these diagnosis, that all but one will be with me for the rest of my life, has been very challenging. Mentally and physically. Sometimes it was near impossible. I lost parts of me. Some I got back and others I decided I didn’t want back. I am not a petty person, a materialistic person or even a person that likes casual things. Never during any of the years that I was suffering and learning how to live with this body that will never get better, did anyone in my family ever ask me if I needed any help or ask me why I did things the way I did. If I didn’t measure up, there was no compassion. Probably because there was no real relationship.
My wife and I have worked hard to live without the help of family (except for a few and they know who they are 🙂 ). To build our credit ratings. To build the life we want and we have made great strides. We needed this time to learn how strong we are. I am proud of us. I don’t need the validation of people that want to judge us.
Last year I mailed back the birthday check a family member sent me. I had called them to tell them about my cancer and they brought up history that, in my mind was none of their business. I did ask them to let me go. I just don’t think we can salvage anything between us. This year I got another card and a check plus a letter telling me I owe them an apology for my blog entries. I won’t be mailing the check back. I won’t spend it either. I still don’t want their money or things. I only want what I ever wanted. I wanted them to want to know me. I wanted them to hear me, see me and want to be part of my life without all the drama.
They broke every promise they ever made to me and I forgive them every time I think about it but PTSD is a bear. Pain is brand new again and again. I am sorry that they missed out on a relationship with me. I am an amazing person.
I have struggled a lot this year. The traditions I enjoy are not available to me as we still live in a hotel. With Grandpa dying only a week ago I am still reeling a bit. This is the first Christmas that is really without Nana and Grandpa… Plus I never use the address here. I have always put our business address on our letters. since this birthday card I received today was addressed to this hotel, it scared me. As a person with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I don’t need a trigger to become anxious, but seeing that address on a card addressed to me and with their name on it, felt like being kicked in the stomach. I felt like someone was spying on me. I felt unprotected. I felt violated.
I won’t be opening any mail from them anymore. I don’t have to let them abuse me anymore. I don’t want to be talked about anymore. I don’t want a relationship with their spouse who is abusive in their own way. I am done. I don’t take this lightly but I have to protect myself.
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Feel free to leave your comments below!
My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.
For anyone reading this that isn’t a Christian, unapologetically, I am a Christian, but I believe there is room for lots of beliefs and religions in the world. It is not my intent to offend people with different beliefs than I have and I would be open to open-minded conversations with no goals of changing anyone’s mind, but sharing information.
If you are interested in becoming a Christian…Do you know Jesus? Do want the Holy Spirit to fill you and give you understanding and salvation? Ask Him. Want someone to pray with you? Contact me.
If you would like to know Jesus as your friend, but want to make this amazing commitment by yourself please pray something like this:
Thank you Jesus that You are the Son of God, the God that created heaven and earth. Thank you Jesus that You came to earth in the form of a man so that You would be able to empathize with my humanity. Thank You that You did this in order to fulfill the promises You made at the foundation of the world.
I realize that I am a sinner and do things that hurt myself and keep myself away from you. Thank You that You died for my sins so that You could defeat death and bring me into Your life. Please forgive me.
I ask You to be Lord of my life. I ask you to heal my hurts and show me what my new life, empowered by You looks like. Thank You for Your mercy.
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