CPS - 4th Grade.

Oh the innocence of a 4th grader - yet the wit and humor of a 20year old (at least)

Someone (I think my aunt K) called CPS on my parents. My parents somehow caught wind of CPS coming and they said to us that a lady was coming and 'us' kids were going to be interviewed and that we needed to be honest.

This was about two-weeks after the 'pizza' incident and this shit being beat out of me. SOOOOOOO

I said.........."You want me to tell them that dad beat me over a slice of pizza?"

Needless to say, my parents hid me in the backroom and told the lady I was at a church event and wasn't there.

I was actually in my bedroom and heard every word that was said that night.

The big brick wall is crumbling.

Reliving all this shit at 40 is a train wreck. I blocked everything. I built up a wall so I didn't know or acknowledge anything was happening around me.

Now the gates of hell are open, the memories flood out and there is no stopping them.

This blog is mine. Mine alone and mine to put the memories out as I remember them.

I didn't cause this mental illness. I didn't want this. I didn't ask for this. I don't wish it upon anyone. You want to judge me - go ahead. If you choose to, you are as bad as my parents, the fucker who sexually abused me and everything in between and to you I say fuck you.

You don't like the swearing on my blog - move along - find a blog without swearing!

8/20 - just the entire day and my meeting with Zen

8/20 –

1. So hypersensitive to noises and touch. I can’t stand my clothes touching me, my sheets touching me, etc. Just the feeling alone of things touching me makes me itch and I want to jump out of my own skin. The noises around me seem magnified tenfold. I tried putting headphones on (granted they were my BIG work headphones but still), but they felt like lead weights and I had to take them off.
2. I just want one day of calm/content. I don’t know the last time I was content, I really don’t. The closest I get to content is when I am in my own head. That is the safest place, in my own head thinking and hiding and avoiding. I feel like my head belongs to someone else because there is such a disconnect between my body and my head. Maybe my body belongs to someone else.
3. I remember as a little girl I used to think that I was an old lady sitting on the porch in a rocking chair and someone was showing me a video of my life. It was such a vivid memory. I thought that for years I think I was about seven when I first though it. I don’t remember why I thought it or what happened when I first thought it. I just know it was a powerful memory and I have never forgotten that I thought that.
4. Stopped to talk with Purple (college advisor). Needed to talk about ‘IT’ she encouraged me to talk to Mr. Zen, she knows it needs to come out, but I am just stuck. I can’t. It may not seem that big of a deal to him or to others but it was and is to me. She reminded me of the strengths I have, the hard work I accomplished. Graduating Cum Laude with double major, copy of evaluation to frame that I am ‘best clinical nurse DU has ever had’ and of course she wrote it when I was in her rotation. However, she was tough, and the VA was a tough clinical rotation. She wants me to do more research on my thesis. 
5. Met with Mr. Zen, I don’t usually  admit to anyone that I trust them (ok, hardly EVER) but I did with him, what the hell is wrong with me. Also was able to explain my sewing analogy to him. The top stitch is the exterior surface that everyone can see. The under stitch is the bobbin and the tension is set wrong and is too tight, set so tight that the underneath is garbled mess. That is how I feel. The innards are a hot mess and ready to explode. I have fought too many battles, been through too much trauma and I can’t take any more. My body, my brain, my soul has had enough.
1. Zen says, I am BPD (borderline personality disorder) and PTSD. I just say I am bat shit crazy
1. I still don’t know about BPD. Something isn’t adding up in my head. I am not sure what. My brain is thinking back through all my psych classes and everything I know about BPD, still something just isn’t clicking. I should contact this professor I had Lisa. Ah, she was so great. Whatever particular diagnosis we were learning about she would act it out for that day during the lecture. Good lord she was funny. She wasn’t doing it to make fun. She was doing it so you would know what to look for. I mean in general she was a funny person. Absolutely without a doubt one of my favorite professors.
1. I think I took about 5 courses from her just because I liked her lectures. I took this psychology of jury selection course from her – fucking awesome course! Favorite course was abnormal psych and psychology of humor. When you have a professor that has a dry demented humor like you have and she teaches psychology of humor, I highly suggest taking the class! The absolute best part of Lisa is she knows what psych patients are going through. She has been through three 51/50 holds and she doesn’t hide it. She will flat out tell you all about them the first day of the class. So, on one of my 51/50 holds this last year when her students showed up and I saw her. I wanted to run and hide from her, but it was too late, she saw me. So, in the rec room. She just sat and held my hand while we sat there quietly talking.
1. Unfortunately as of this fall she isn’t at DU anymore. Boy is there going to be a void left. Lisa really is a wonderful professor.
2. UGH, in regards to Mr. Zen……..it isn’t his fault. It is mine. I keep everything so locked in and close to the chest and I didn’t this time. I spilled some secrets…..I just feel like so much shit came up and out that now I am emotionally eating. The last few weeks I had done a lot of avoiding, so I was hardly eating at all, most days I wouldn’t eat anything, the thought of eating made me gag. Now, I spill secrets out and I can’t stop eating. I can’t find a happy medium.