Sunday, July 3, 2011


Let me start by saying if there is medical reasoning endangering the mother or the mother was raped I understand why someone may have an abortion. Otherwise no. I recently just watched close friends go through there baby being stillborn. Abortions are a slap in the face to anyone who has had a miscarriage,stillbirth, or are unable to conceive. It shouldn't be your choice whether you want this baby or not. You had the choice when you decided to have sex. And when you do have sex use protection. Abortions have made it easy for people to "undo" the mistake they made. I know some women have abortions because they feel pressured to by fear of what their parents or others will think/do. Or their boyfriends are pressuring them into it.

1. You would not be in this situation if you had not had sex. People knock abstinence but it works 100%.
2. There are people and places out there that you can turn to for help and guidance. Whether you decide to keep the baby or put it up for adoption.
3. Your not alone many women/girls find themselves in this situation.

It just blows my mind why people think it is okay. I have been crying off and on the past few days for my friends loss. So if it is wanted it is a baby and loved but if it is not it is just discarded like trash? How is this okay? I don't get it. It's all about choice. Pro-choice. You made your choice when you had sex. Now take responsibility for your actions and think of the little life you created and not yourself. Some say it is not a baby until it is born. So with my friends does that mean there baby was never alive since it wasn't born alive. So it never lived because it wasn't a baby until it was born? That makes zero sense whatsoever. Also the argument it is my body and my choice. It is apart of me. Your right on both accounts. It is also a consequence of your actions and your responsibility. There shouldn't be a delete button when it comes to creating life. You made your choice now take care of this little thing until it's ready to not be attached to you anymore. It's like the baby is treated like cancer or some unwanted disease. It blows my mind. Even if you don't believe it is a baby til it is born. It will become a baby if you let it be. So isn't it the same thing? Even if it is "not one now" but "will be when it is born" your killing a baby to be. How is that okay?


Missed Connections.(5/11/11)

I missed church today. Yesterday was a really crappy day. I have been having withdrawals from my medication (which are normal when you get off of them, so not to worry). Also I feel more now. I am no longer half numb to the things that are going on in my life. I no longer have a bumper to ease things. Just hitting them head on now. I am definitely going through an adjustment period which I expect to last a few weeks to a month if not more. So I was wiped out, yet didn't get to bed at a decent time. And to be honest I thought it was Mother's Day today and had zero desire to go to church and be reminded for three hours about how I am struggling with my own mothers illness.

Time to get real.

An illness that is slowly killing her and has resulted in her no longer being the mother I grew up with. That is what gets me the most. I had a chance to get to know her but couldn't fully because I was either too young or sick. I think when I was around seven or eight I started to transform from this free spirited little girl with an attitude to the perfect child. As I got older I became more and more of the perfect child; quiet, kind, perfect student, honest, obedient and so on. What you imagine as the perfect child/student that was me. Now from the outside it seemed like that was the person I became and that was all me. But it wasn't. It was a combination of my own personality mixed with OCD, Depression, and Anxiety. The free spirited little girl and spunk was lost within all this illness. It wasn't until senior year of high school that I finally got so bad I cracked.  After a watching my best friend drift away and leave me in the dust I fell apart. Now I do not blame her for what happened but it was the last straw that caused me to crumble. In a way I am thankful for that. Thankful it happened then rather than later when I was in college. Thankfully my own self would soon be unearthed from all that illness. I was out of school for two months straight. Not once did my former "best friend" call, come over or really ask what was wrong. She was too busy with her own life and it seemed like a "out of sight, out of mind" situation. Honestly if she had come over it would not have been pretty. For her sake it was probably for the best. Those two months were the worst two months of my life. They were what I think Hell must be like. It was Hell for my family and I. They had to watch it all and were there every step of the way. I went to counseling  saw a psychologist, got on medication and was nursed back to health by my family. I mean that in a literal sense. I remember my mom had remind me many times a day what my jobs were; eat, sleep, take my pills, exercise. When the first medication didn't work my parents took me to the ER in a last attempt to get things under control. They switched my medication and through time I got better.

What I remember

  • I think it was the day after I went to the ER and my mom gave me a bath. The doctors said that might help me relax and feel better. I vaguely remember sobbing in the bath tube and freaking out so my mom got me out. 
  • Sitting in the downstairs bathroom hitting my head against the wall over and over. I don't know why I did it. I think the anxiety was so bad I had to do something and thats is what I did. 
  • Every waking moment being Hell. My main illness was OCD thoughts such as; your not good enough, and it's all your fault, you did this to yourself. Most people's brain has a filter that gets rid of these thoughts before even processing them/ thinking them. My filter was broken and these thoughts would run through my head hundreds if not thousands of times a day. So they became my reality. 
  • Trying to convince my family that what I was thinking was right and they were wrong. That everything was my fault and that I was doing this on purpose and did this to myself.
  • Rare moments of coming to the surface and understanding what was going on.
  • Only sleeping 2-3 hours a night even with sleeping medications.
  • Waking up was the worst. Whatever progress I had made through the day with my thinking was erased overnight.
  • One Sunday waking up and believing somehow I had made it so I couldn't get better. I had done to much and would never get better. Going around and trying to convince each family member. 
  • Waking up in the night or not being able to sleep and going to find someone about "what I had done" and all the other OCD thoughts that were my reality. The rule was I could not wake up my mom in the night. So I would wake up my sister and sometimes lay in the bed with her. The rule was if I was quiet I could stay in the bed with her. 
  • Trying to read a book for school at the beginning of this all and not being able to comprehend anything. Literally nothing. My brain was so full of OCD thought I could not read. I was unable to. 
  • Not being able to focus on anything. It's one thing when you are sick and have to stay at home and can veg and watch t.v. all day. I could not. I could not focus on anything. I was always stuck in my mind drowning in my ill thoughts. 
  • My mom making me take walks. When I would see a flower or a bird or what not I would say the word out loud to my mom like I was seeing it for the first time. Or just putting the word and the image together for the first time. 
  • Begging my family to institutionalize me because I couldn't take it anymore. My mom would tell me over and over that I was better at home and that they would help me get better. 
  • My mom taking care of me all day long everyday. I was a little kid again unable to take care of my basic needs and needing constant supervision.    

That is about all I remember. I'm sure if I tried hard to remember I would remember more but I don't want to do it. I do not know who would. Luckily I never had suicidal thought or the desire to commit suicide. Which was a blessing because if I had I am sure I would have at least attempted to if not succeeded.

When I got better after the two months I returned to school and finished up my senior year. Functioning normal for the first time mentally since my childhood. After graduating I went and nannied for my Aunt and Uncle for a month and a half and during that time went from 115 pounds to 165 in a span of one month. This was due to taking two medications that increase your appetite. I soon went a little boy crazy as my medication started to not work as well anymore. I switched to a new one which I had been on for over five years until recently weaning off it. Once my medication was all figured out I was me again. Not as free spirited as I once was as a little girl but not the perfect child anymore. I was a mixture of the two and have been ever since. I was me again. Even more so now that I have gotten off of my medication and can feel more.

I am eternally gratefully for my family for getting me through that time. Especially my mom. Since she has been sick I have had a hard time not being near her to help take care of her. I have prayed about it a lot and know I am where I am suppose to be. Luckily my younger brother has been able and chosen to live at home and help take care of my mom. He is with her during the day while my dad is at work. He has put his life on hold to take care of my mother and I am so grateful for that.

Missed Connections

I sometimes feel like I never really got the chance to get to know my mom. Yes we have always been a big part of each others lives but for the longest time I was sick and then we switched roles. We have never really had the chance to both be well and spend time together and now we never will. At least while we are alive. Sometimes that is really hard for me. Yesterday while in the shower I started sobbing uncontrollably. Crying out about how I want my mother back and vocally asking God why he has taken her away from me. Asking what is the reason. I honestly think I will never understand why while here on earth. Coming to terms with not knowing why is part of the trial. I could hate God. Curse him for letting something so horrible happen to her. For letting my family go through all of this. For letting her be buried deep within this illness and struggle day to day through the normal tasks of living. But I won't. Call me crazy but it is happening for a reason. Bad things happen to good people and my mother is a perfect example of that. Thats life. Thats why we are here. To learn and grow and learn to live. She has spent her life serving and taking care of others. Always. Now it's time for us to take care of her. I'm thankful for the opportunity to give back to her and to repay her in what little ways I can for everything she has done for me.