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I have a massive blood clot in my arm that was so swollen and hurt so bad and it’d been punctured so many times I had to have a wristband to prevent people from touching it. My left arm I had no veins left. I damaged my lungs so much and I don’t know if it’ll get better. I ended back in the hospital on August 15 due I couldn’t breathe. My oxygen levels even with me on oxygen aren’t completely health.
Let me be clear, mental ward does not get you the help you need. They don’t offer therapy to help you get to the root problems. They have a psychiatrist that comes by once daily for LITERALLY 15-30 seconds. They really listen to the nurses. Thank goodness I had a great one each day. Not everyone was lucky. I tried to get the help I needed before it went this far but our system is broken.
I knew my mental health was declining earlier this year. I tried to ask my regular doctor to change my meds up. He didn’t want to yet because of other meds he was changing up. Ever since I was diagnosed last year with MS and I went through a dark period personally I haven’t been okay. I kept working but I was sick too many times to count and missed work. On at least 3 different occasions I would blackout for 2-3 days, remembering nothing. Due to my inconsistencies with work I lost my job.
My car had stopped working in February so finding a job was next to impossible. I did apply for jobs but most never heard back from. I was over qualified but I would’ve done the job. I feel guilty for any resume I overlooked for being over qualified.
I knew my mental health was struggling so I finally went to the local mental health facility. They’re so backed up my appt they gave me in June isn’t until Oct 19th. They have a crisis stabilization unit and I was finally able to get in there after 3 weeks. It’s usually for 2 weeks but I stayed for 3. It too is a joke. They have a psychiatrist but there is no true therapist. They have a therapist Title but don’t do anything to help.
I had no money, was close to being evicted, had no food, no way to get around town. I called every single community resource for help and the ones I actually got through either had 4-5 month wait list or can’t help. I tried again today to see if anyone would help with a storage unit. As of tomorrow I have to be out and I have nowhere to put my things.
I have a temporary place I can stay until my temporary long term plan is ready in 4 weeks or so. I shouldn’t complain and be grateful but it’s next to the projects and I know she’s on drugs but it really my only option. My plan is to have a drug/alcohol assessment done and lie and say I’m on drugs and I know certain drugs and types of uses are the top priority. I haven’t put a drug in my body in 4+ years and it’s not as if I did it every day and it was a fairly short while. I know I’m doing what I have to but I hate lying about that just to get help. I’m still on a long waitlist. I am 2.5 months shy of being out of work for 6 months so I can apply for disability. The whole system is broken. I qualify for physical and mental health reasons but have to be without work for 6 months then another 5-8 months during the application process. Not sure how people are suppose to survive.
I hadnt talked to my parents in over 2 years. This is because of the backhanded way and lies told regarding my kids. While I was in the hospital the 1st time coincidentally Mackenzie reached out to my biological sister that I haven’t talked to in years to see if she’d heard from me. Come to find out, per my dad’s text they were “concerned because people reached out to say I deleted my Facebook” page. Back in February I temporarily deactivated it. This is just another example of how my entire life was lived worrying about what others thought about me. That is the only reason they even decided to reach out.
I truly believe my dad helped others but when it came to his own house he couldn’t handle when things weren’t perfect. Either the seminary didn’t teach a class on how to handle issues in your own home or else he skipped the class. I do acknowledge I’m stubborn and headstrong but there’s more to me than that. They just didn’t see it. They also do not understand mental health issues and they have always in our family cut out anyone that doesn’t follow their biblical beliefs.
When I was 17 they found out I’d been having sex with my long term high school boyfriend. Not only was I grounded from my first day of my senior year but all the way until January 1st. They also sent me to a Christian therapist at a Presbyterian church downtown to “see what was wrong with me” for having sex unwed. After our session she asked permission to tell them what we discussed. I had no problem with that and she told them nothing was wrong with me. What I did may not line of with their biblical believes but there wasn’t something wrong with me.
I got pregnant at 19 out of wedlock. I was not the first or even second or third in the church to be like this. I told my dad and he was so disappointed in me he didn’t talk to me for 3 months. I remember finally breaking down and calling them because I was so sick with strep and I felt like I was dying. I still went to his church and he’d act like I wasn’t there. I’ll never forget one of my favorite people at the church went and talked to him. She reminded him how he told her to handle things when her daughter got pregnant years prior.
When I was 28 and pregnant with Avery my husband at the time, Lee, physically assaulted me and during the attack I called my parents and they called 911 to my house in Florida. I asked my parents if I could move to Birmingham with them for just a little while because of the abuse and the answer was no. They did say they’d pay for Christian counseling for him and couple counseling for us. Please be aware that for the 7 years prior to then they were aware of the abuse not from just me but Jana. Before we moved to Florida she begged them to help me get out of it. After 1 month of counseling the therapist said Lee was better. Moved back to my house and in 2 weeks had a baby. When Avery was 3 months old he stopped only abusing me and brought it on the kids. Mackenzie went for help and he chased her with Avery in his arm and when trying to drag Mackenzie from the neighbors he tried to leap after her and Avery hit the pavement. I went into shock. Finally neighbor helped. Avery was taken by helicopter to Pensacola with a bleed on the brain. I called my parents from the ambulance and was so choked up I couldn’t speak and I’ll never forget my mom asking me “who did he kill”. If that’s your first thought why not help me if only for my kids.
My suicide attempt just further solidifies I won’t ever see my kids. That pain alone did play a party in it. As did the fact my family doesn’t want to be involved with me. He texted me after 2 years and said he wish he knew how to help me but they just can’t help me. I replied that one of the main things is support for my family. I literally have no one. He ignored that request and shut me down.
I truly believe my dad helped others but when it came to his own house he couldn’t handle when things weren’t perfect. Either the seminary didn’t teach a class on how to handle issues in your own home or else he skipped the class. I do acknowledge I’m stubborn and headstrong but there’s more to me than that. They just didn’t see it. They also do not understand mental health issues and they have always in our family cut out anyone that doesn’t follow their biblical beliefs.
When I was 17 they found out I’d been having sex with my long term high school boyfriend. Not only was I grounded from my first day of my senior year but all the way until January 1st. They also sent me to a Christian therapist at a Presbyterian church downtown to “see what was wrong with me” for having sex unwed. After our session she asked permission to tell them what we discussed. I had no problem with that and she told them nothing was wrong with me. What I did may not line of with their biblical believes but there wasn’t something wrong with me.
I got pregnant at 19 out of wedlock. I was not the first or even second or third in the church to be like this. I told my dad and he was so disappointed in me he didn’t talk to me for 3 months. I remember finally breaking down and calling them because I was so sick with strep and I felt like I was dying. I still went to his church and he’d act like I wasn’t there. I’ll never forget one of my favorite people at the church went and talked to him. She reminded him how he told her to handle things when her daughter got pregnant years prior.
When I was 28 and pregnant with Avery my husband at the time, Lee, physically assaulted me and during the attack I called my parents and they called 911 to my house in Florida. I asked my parents if I could move to Birmingham with them for just a little while because of the abuse and the answer was no. They did say they’d pay for Christian counseling for him and couple counseling for us. Please be aware that for the 7 years prior to then they were aware of the abuse not from just me but Jana. Before we moved to Florida she begged them to help me get out of it. After 1 month of counseling the therapist said Lee was better. Moved back to my house and in 2 weeks had a baby. When Avery was 3 months old he stopped only abusing me and brought it on the kids. Mackenzie went for help and he chased her with Avery in his arm and when trying to drag Mackenzie from the neighbors he tried to leap after her and Avery hit the pavement. I went into shock. Finally neighbor helped. Avery was taken by helicopter to Pensacola with a bleed on the brain. I called my parents from the ambulance and was so choked up I couldn’t speak and I’ll never forget my mom asking me “who did he kill”. If that’s your first thought why not help me if only for my kids.
My suicide attempt just further solidifies I won’t ever see my kids. That pain alone did play a party in it. As did the fact my family doesn’t want to be involved with me. He texted me after 2 years and said he wish he knew how to help me but they just can’t help me. I replied that one of the main things is support for my family. I literally have no one. He ignored that request and shut me down.
My body is bruised so badly. My breathing is hard. I’m taking a shit ton of meds, way more than I usually do. My heart is so sad and just broken. I know Cody has helped more than anyone else would have but I’ve overstayed my welcome in his life and for that I really am sorry.
I am also so sorry for all of the hurt and pain I caused Jana. I’d shut her out because I couldn’t handle myself. She’s the one person that’s loved me unconditionally. I’m so sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused.
To the 3 most beautiful creatures ever created in this world. Mackenzie, my oldest, I’m so sorry I didn’t do right by you. I wish I had protected you from an abuse marriage I was in and all you were exposed to. I’m sorry that after that I put too much responsibility on you. You didn’t deserve that. I’m thankful you are out of the same kind of relationship I was in. I love you and I know you’ll be a wonderful nurse one day soon.
Jackson, my middle child and only son. You were a mama’s boy and I loved that so much. You are so incredibly smart, and I remember you starting a chess club at school and being in advanced math. Your teacher so impressed by you. I remember you wanted a dress sports coat to wear to church and to the mother/son banquet. You told me every single morning when I dropped you off at school that you loved me. You weren’t embarrassed and it meant the world to me. I haven’t seen you in way too many years and you need to know a day never went by that I didn’t think of you and my heart didn’t hurt missing you. I knew you were always so smart and the only info I’ve had shared with me is that you got a full scholarship and you are starting college now. I’m so proud of you and I never stopped loving you.
Avery, my baby that isn’t a baby anymore. You and your blonde hair, blue eyes and one dimple. You are so beautiful. You loved sleeping with me every night and even though it drove me crazy at times I’d give anything for you to sleep with me again. You were sassy at times and I hope you haven’t lost your spunk but are still sweet. I hope you are kind and have a big heart.
Elizabeth and Ben, thank you for taking care of my babies. For loving them as your own. For giving them a solid, safe and secure place for them to live. I don’t truly believe that I’m ever talked about and if so in a good way but please don’t let them ever think I didn’t love them. Please.
