Hello

The skeletons in my closet don't actually represent things I have done and are ashamed. The skeletons in my closet are things that have been done to me that I blame myself for. I drank too much that night. I smoked Arabic tobacco. I was high. I passed out. I thought the worst was over. Until my eyes struggled to open and I could feel your breathe. You had no right. It took me years to realize that it wasn't my fault. You took my innocence. I physically couldn't say no. This skeleton is similar to the first. We dated. I thought you were a good guy, until you weren't. You were emotionally manipulative, abusive, and you physically and sexually assaulted me. You borderline stalked me to the point I almost had to break my silence and seek help. I still can't have my neck touched, I still remember how it felt to have your hands wrapped around my neck. I still remember when you picked me up and wouldn't let me go until I said I loved you. I remember my toes not bei...

It's me again. The me who is fragile, not fragile like a flower but like a bomb, set to go off. The suspense is mounting, the fuse is lit and it's going to go off. I countdown the seconds like fireworks because once I reach this point there is no stopping me. 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Explosion. Now there is no real bomb going off, nobody is in danger of being hurt. The only explosion is the one that I feel in my body. The moment the dark creeps in. The moment when all the progress I have made, is in jeopardy. If I am really honest, this wasn't a small moment. As I read the labels on my medication my last fill was in December. It is now the end of February. Did you know you have mental illness and you don't fill your prescriptions some insurance companies will call your dr and let them know you didn't fill your meds? I know now. There was a moment when I sat in an appointment and my doctor opened with " Your insurance company let me know you have n...

Outwardly I am calm. I go most places in public presentable dressed, I put on lipstick for those outings I think I need to impress someone and I force a smile. Inside, inside, I think this person hates me. I think this person is disappointed in me. I am failing. I messed up. I am a horrible parent. How am I ever going to fit in and be normal? Why do I have a panic attack when my neighbor and his buddies are loud and yell at each other outside? Why is my fight, flight, freeze, so messed up. I want to shave my head because my scalp itches because I am stressed but don't want to seem crazy. I am crazy. Shut up you are not. You are a normal person. No wait normal people don't freak out over these things. Oh hell now I am talking to myself in my head. The dull ache in the back of my head starts. There is panic running through my whole body. I see the vibrations in the air with every noise. Damnit I am losing this battle again. I want to win the war. Will the world every be won...

Dear Every Friend I Ever Turned My Back On, There are a few of you that I actually miss. Every once in a while Facebook likes to throw it in my face that I from time to time fall apart. Facebook likes to remind me of the people I have lost, either through walking away from or people who became my angels. This is my letter to you, because even though I swore I didn't owe you an explanation there is always this nagging part of me that wants me to tell you that I am not really an asshole, well I can be, but mostly it stems from something bigger. If you are new here, I have PTSD. It controlled my life for a greater portion of two years recently. The ending of the 2017 really was the ending to that. It is hard to live your life in fight or flight mode constantly. There were other things going on then too, and I found my home, in constant turmoil. Though it is not my story to tell, I will say the person who needed help has finally found it. Through their work, my home is safe now, ...

      I think it is important to note that the vast majority of the year, I haven't wrote nearly as much as I wanted to, because I try to tread very lightly on the line between this is my story to tell, and what would my 13 year old feel if he reads this later in life.      If perhaps this is still up and he is the one reading it I want you to know this, you will always be my first baby. I am sorry things never got easier this year. I am sorry you won't be home for Christmas or your birthday. I am sorry this was hard. I don't regret the ending here, I don't regret where you are right now. I loved you enough to let you go and get the help you needed. We tried bud, we did, and someday if not yet, I hope you understand this, I loved you enough to let you go.      That's pretty much all you get for that child, the youngest started home head start. Next year he might go to the real school. The middle child we are in the home stretch of him get...

I sat in the rocking chair, and listened to this women talking to me. I wasn't fully in it today. It comes with the territory. I was having an off day, she has grown to understand this. These are the days my responses are short, but sometimes I am very insightful. I told her I felt like my crazy had been showing. I felt like I was never going to be able to go back into that mold of what society accepts. I told her I felt like I was at a crossroads. I told her I wanted to fit in, even though I never had, that there was this longing and yearning to be more. I sat in that rocking chair in that corner of the room, semi blankly staring out the window at the autumn leaves on the trees when she said, " Jess, it's not about you and them. You ARE them. You just don't see it. You can fit in, I never would have known in the grocery store that day I saw you that you are the emotional person in my office." It's not me and them? It's not me living on the outside o...

It has been two months since I last wrote. The funny thing is, when I think of what has happened nationally, and then in my own little bubble it is AMAZING, some good, some bad, some things I haven't decided where I stand. We got to the end of a really long hard road. One child no longer lives with us. He is a good home where he can get the help he needs. The goal is always to get him to be able to function as a member of this house. For now, it means he doesn't live here. While this was hard, and I found myself fighting with my choice, ultimately, he is where he needs to be. He can come home for visits and we can call him so it's not like we can't have contact with him. My middle child Jon, has also come almost to the end of another long road. We have a diagnosis of ADD ( Attention Deficient Disorder) Dyslexia ( typically this is where they difficulty in learning to read or interpret words, letters, and other symbols) and very good chance he also has Dyspraxia (dif...

My breathe grew sharp. I got cold chills. There was a ringing in my ears. I told myself I was safe. I continued driving. I drove for the next ten minutes, white knuckled barely breathing. There was the toddler in the back happily talking to me about going to the store. I gritted my teeth and spoke calmly, the words left my mouth broken but he was unaware. He was unaware that his mom in driver seat just took everything she had to make it to our destination while having one of the worst meltdowns to date. I was loopy, I was exhausted. I hurt from the tips of my toes to the top of white hairs on my head. My skin hurt to the touch. My clothes caused immense pain. I called my best friend and put her on stand by for a rescue mission. I got a hold of husband. Between the two of them they got me calm enough, and the good adrenaline ( not the bad adrenaline where I feel constantly under attack) kicked in and I somehow mustered the energy to go grocery shopping. Now, remember I have one ki...

If you follow me, you will have learned a few things about me. One is I have three boys, another is two are special needs, you should be aware by now that I have PTSD, and Borderline Personality Disorder is the new one. If you share any of these things with me you probably have already figured out most of my friends live in my computer. If you can't fully relate, let me give you some insight on this complicated situation. First off, my oldest has spent much of the summer in the hospital. There is only a handful of people who I have actually told this. I haven't explained this because well he is thirteen, I feel partly this isn't my story to tell completely and partly because well I am so jaded now, I have a hard time letting people in. This will lead you to the second thing, I want to have friends, but I don't want to be hurt. It's hard to trust when you are jaded and have been through more shit then people will ever fully realize because you feel like a burden ...

It's been almost 40 days since you walked out the door, well more like ran. Your glasses fell and hit the road. You had a destination. We changed that destination and it forever has changed our path. Dear Child of Mine, I am writing you this letter to let you know the 40 days we have spent apart were not without merit. We felt like we were going to get you something better. Our regret, your Daddy and I, is we thought you were in a safe place. We thought it was where you needed to be. We were wrong. We were lied to. My dear child, when you look back on this time I hope you see that it was with a good heart and faith in system, that we found out was broken while you were away, that we tried our best. I know it wasn't fun for you. Believe me, it wasn't all fun and games for us either. While you were away you missed birthdays, and our first trip to Santa's Village. Your brother turned three. We had fun. We missed you. I held your brothers as they cried worried about...