Mandy88
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| Rank | Member |
| Online Status | OFFLINE |
| Member Since | 10/18/2011 01:53 PM |
| Last Online | 02/01/2013 05:08 AM |
| Gender: | Female |
| Birthdate: | 03/29/1988 |
| City: | Clearwater |
| State: | Florida |
| Country: | United States of America |
| Occupation: | Homemaker/Unable To Work |
| Website: | http://www.facebook.com/MarandaLee88 |
| A little about me: | Since before I can remember my life has been surrounded by alcohol, drugs, abuse, anger, racism, sexism, homophobia, debt, disgust, and so much more. My mother is a self-absorbed, functioning alcoholic. She has done unforgivable things that I have always forgiven/ignored. Because I know she loves me. My step-dad is an emotionally/physically/verbally abusive man. A racist, sexist, homophobic southerner. He has also done many unforgivable things that I have always forgiven/ignored. Because I know he loves me. I have 4 sisters. Two older and two younger, but I was the oldest in the house growing up. Although I was a reckless teen I was also a devoted daughter and sister. The words that always rang in my head are true, but no excuse: 'No matter what, my parents work to keep a roof over my head, food in my belly and clothes on my back. They deserve respect.' My step-dad went to prison when I was 13 and I went from being a kid to being a substitute parent to my two younger sisters. My mother had never been the most stable parent, but my step-dad had always forced her to do her parental duties. After he went away my mother seemed to see it as a vacation. If we couldn't find my mom we knew she was at the bar, if she brought guys home I would find somewhere to take my little sisters. I would cook them dinner, clean the house, sign their school work and pick them up/drop them off at school. If mom was drunk I would drive her home from the bar. I would enlist them to help me carry my mother to bed when she passed out drunk. When she would disappear for days I would take her place. I was 14. By 15 my 7 year old sister was calling me 'mom', and my 14 year old sister resented me for taking my mom's place. She would say that it was 'our mother's job', then when mom didn't do it she would cry and hate me more for being right. She still resents me for it, the youngest remembers it and is grateful. My mom started giving me her xanex for my anxiety because she said I was 'too stressed'. Well, handling all her duties plus school and my own teenage issues was a bit stressful. The doctors diagnosed me with depression. After a year I refused to take the medication because it didn't help. I would go from unable to pull myself out of bed in the morning to not sleeping for days, rapidly changing back and forth. I did dangerous and stupid things. I did drugs, sold drugs, stole drugs from drug dealers, robbed, skipped, smoked, snuck out at night. But I always took care of my school work and my sisters first, and made sure they were safe if I knew I would be out of it. That's not usually the first thing on a teenagers mind. That year I lost my virginity in a bad way to my best friends young but perverted step father. I also got into an abusive relationship with a man ten years older than me. He didn't allow me to see my friends or go anywhere without him knowing. He would threaten to kill me and my family if he ever got in trouble for dating me. I was young and stupid. And scared. "But he was smart and sexy and he chose me." He was none of these things, I was just to dumb to know it. When I was 16 my step-dad came home. He immediately took over all my (mom's) responsibilities and told me it wasn't my job. I felt useless and unappreciated. My sisters would be taken care of now that he was forcing my mom to be a mom. Even if he wasn't the nicest man in the world. I moved out of one abusive home right into another. With my 27 year old boyfriend. I worked 40 hours a week and went to high school full time. He took my money to 'save it for me'. I never saw any of it again. He got me hooked on coke. He didn't force the lines up my nose, I know I did it to myself. My parents thought I was living with a girl friend. They never checked. They asked very few questions. Maybe if they had they would've realized that the reason I only saw them once a month (when I lived just down the street) was because I was trapped, scared, not allowed to interact with anyone; even my family. My sisters would drop by sometimes and I would always rush them out of the house. I didn't like them near my boyfriend and knew I would be in trouble later. (Because OBVIOUSLY I had gone behind his back and called them over.) He kicked me out in the middle of the night when I was 17, and moved my best friend in. I felt broken, alone and embarrassed. I also still carry a great deal of guilt for never telling her what he was really like, because she got it worse than me. She was a fighter, I was used to enduring. I had to move back in with my parents because I had lost all of my belongings, money and friends in the duration of that relationship. I had nowhere else to go. My parents, like lions, could smell weakness. They rubbed my failure in my face like salt in an open wound. I slept on the living room floor because they didn't want me to 'mess up the new couch'. To this day I still believe it was to teach me a lesson. It didn't work. I met a man who was 15 years older than me about a month before my 18th birthday. I didn't tell him how old I was until he asked me to move in 2 weeks after we met. He loved me regardless. By this time I had upgraded my coke habit to crack, I was hooked and doing ecstasy every weekend and some week days. We both were. I just wanted to feel happy. I became pregnant and Immediately stopped everything. It was hard but my child was more important. I married my boyfriend at 18 and started my own family to replace the one I had basically lost. Our daughter saved both our lives. As soon as the test came back positive we started cleaning ourselves up. We got off the drugs, rented a nice house and turned ourselves into people worthy of our beautiful daughter. My husband relapsed a couple times during my pregnancy but I stayed strong. I didn't want my child to have to deal with the type of parents I did. After my daughter was born the postpartum threw me over the edge. I know it was inevitable but I still feel like that was what brought on the bipolar. I relapsed twice and began drinking heavily. I was self medicating. My husband finally got me to see a doctor. Again, they said it was depression. The depression meds sent me into a downward spiral. They didn't coincide well with the BP. For a couple of years I was placed on numerous different meds for depression and hospitalized once, each med seemed to make me worse. I was lying, wrecking cars (4), drinking constantly at home and sneaking out to bars while my husband was at work, using drugs, disregarding my daughter, hurting myself. There is a lot I am ashamed of and many scars; mental, physical and emotional, that cannot be overlooked. At around 21 I finally found a good doctor and found out I was bipolar with rapid cycling. I also found out that depression meds actually make bipolar symptoms worse. What killed me is that my mother is a rather accomplished Director Of Nursing and she never picked up on all the signs. I'm 24 now and have finally found a medication that works for me. Although I tend to forget to take it often, I've been able to find my way back from the edge. I'm becoming a better mother. My daughter became better behaved after I stopped drinking so much because I was being much more attentive. My biggest fear in the world is that these meds will stop working because of my high tolerance and I'll revert back to the crazy woman I was before, or worse. |
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"For all those having to live with bipolar disorder. It's hard to do and hard to believe that anyone could really understand it besides others who have it." |
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 | "If you keep sending away every person who challenges you, you'll never GROW. Some people are in your life to sharpen you." ~ Mandy Hale |
| Once you choose hope, anything’s possible. – Christopher Reeve |
| The reason we all like to think so well of others is that we are all afraid for ourselves. The basis of optimism is sheer terror. - Oscar Wilde |
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My Recent Posts
| Am I being stupid by not going... | 01/19/2013 | ||
| My Doctor is an Idiot! | 10/20/2012 | ||
| Bane of Salvation | 08/21/2012 | ||
| Pregnancy and Meds? | 05/10/2012 | ||
| Fun Word Game | 04/18/2012 | ||
| Fun Word Game | 04/18/2012 | ||
| One of those nights | 03/23/2012 | ||
| I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT! | 03/23/2012 | ||
| One of those nights | 03/23/2012 | ||
| Bane of Salvation | 03/15/2012 | ||
| Bane of Salvation | 02/16/2012 | ||
| Bane of Salvation | 02/16/2012 | ||
| Bane of Salvation | 02/16/2012 | ||
| Baby, did you forget to take y... | 01/20/2012 | ||
| Baby, did you forget to take y... | 01/18/2012 | ||
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