Not in a place to blog much right now. Been shaking from panic and everything so bad whole body hurts. Been going on for couple hours now.
Anyway just want to share something I learned. If you have a student email address (ending in ".edu") hulu will give you a free month of hulu plus. It has lots of shows full last season so if you need distraction like me and want to get caught up for fall it's a good thing. I'm excited. At least one thing goin right.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Ask River Question #4
It's been a long while since I've answered an Ask River question. Honestly I've had so much craziness in my head that I just haven't had the clarity to be able to say things that make sense. But, it's the middle of the night and since my body has apparently decided to no longer sleep, now should be as good a time as any. This question was posed over email a few weeks ago. Sorry to the asker for not getting to it sooner. I hope you'll understand.
Anon asks: What is the one thing that you think teenage foster kids want their foster parents to know about how to deal with them?
I had a feeling this question would come up sooner or later, and to be honest I was kind of dreading it. It's a great question, but I'm not sure I want to speak for teenage foster kids everywhere. But I can tell you what I always wished my foster parents could know about me. However I'm sure if you asked this to a dozen former (or current) foster kids you'd get a dozen different answers.
For me, I would just want you to know that we are trying our very best. Teenage foster kids get a bad rap in the eyes of many. I hear often, "I would love to be a foster parent, but I would never take TEENAGERS!" spoken like teens are horrible creatures. And the truth is, sometimes we are. When I was a teen in foster care, especially in my first home, I was in trouble at school so much I nearly got kicked out. I manipulated constantly. I stole from everyone around me. (I even stole my foster parents car...results were mentioned in the sobriety post). I had all sorts of attitude and I yelled constantly. I'm sure I was not a pleasant person to be around. I don't blame people for not wanting to invite that in to their home. I really don't.
But...the key to all of this is that I wasn't trying to hurt my foster parents or anyone else. I wasn't out to "be bad" or cause anyone pain. In fact that was the last thing I would've wanted. But I had never learned anything different. I manipulated and stole because that is how I had learned to survive. I used to drive my foster mom crazy because I would sneak around in the middle of the night to get food from the kitchen, but then refuse to eat anything she had cooked for meals. It wasn't that I didn't want to eat her cooking. No, my brain had been severely twisted from the abuse I'd endured. In my mind, eating her food gave her power. Like somehow I would "owe" them if ate "their" food. I genuinely believed that I had to keep them from having any power over me by not accepting any of their kindnesses. (Similar reasoning kept me from sleeping in bed, wearing the clothes they'd bought me, etc.). But I had to eat, so at night I would sneak down and take whatever food I could find. I'd generally take extra to stash somewhere too, just in case they decided to stop feeding me.
To some of you reading this, this probably sounds nuts. But if that's what you're thinking, you haven't realized how completely abuse and other traumas can warp a person's brain long after the abuse is over. In my foster moms eyes I was giving her attitude by refusing to eat her cooking or wear the clothes she'd bought. In my mind I was keeping myself safe and surviving. I was just waiting for these nice parents to turn in to how my parents had been, because in my mind that's how all parents were. Even at 16 years old, I still had no concept of a non-abusive family. I assumed this particular family just hid it well.
I am not saying at all that foster parents should accept crappy behavior from their kids, or that every foster parent should try taking in a teen because they mean well. What I am saying though is when you see said crappy behaviors, try to look beyond the behavior and see where it might be coming from. With the food example, my foster mom could've told me I wasn't allowed to take food after meal times and tried to punish me if I did. Instead she talked to me about food options I could eat any time and started leaving my dinner plate in the fridge for just me (instead of in the big things of leftovers) so I could eat it later if I chose. For a kid who had had my dinner plate thrown out in front of me while being told I didn't deserve to eat, knowing that my food was mine and could still be mine later was HUGE for me. My foster mom didn't fully understand the reasoning at the time, but the fact that she was willing to listen and work with me meant the world to me. Slowly as I started to trust that there would be food every night I became more willing to eat with others around. Similarly, she didn't object to me moving my mattress to the floor when I was afraid of sleeping in a bed. There were just so many little things like that that she did to help. She could've easily said, "What's wrong with you? Everyone wants to sleep in a bed." Or even just put me on the spot questioning why I didn't like beds. Instead she was able to accept that I wasn't ready to explain it right then but that a mattress on the floor would work much better for me. She understood that everything was a huge adjustment process and she worked with me as much as she could.
I think not taking it personally is another big issue that goes along with this. Even the behaviors that look like they're directed right at you likely have very little to do with you. For example, a teenager telling you that they hate you and want to go live with their bio family (pretty typical I'm guessing...) doesn't mean that you're a bad parent. It just means that the teen is confused and has a lot of complicated stuff to work through. Again don't let them walk all over you, but try to figure out where it's coming from and see if you can work WITH them to fix it. I'd say more than anything that is what helped me the most. Instead of getting flustered and frustrated and angry, help them figure out where the issue is coming from and how they can deal with it. I'd say this is especially true for an older teen (which is where all of my foster experience is). A 16+ year old kid is going to be out on their own before too long. They need help to understand the how's and the why's of the world and how they can best deal with it, not arbitrary "because mom said so" type of rules and punishments. They need a chance to try a bit on their own and fail while they still have a safe place to fall back on. A foster kid, especially if you're not planning to adopt, is going to be much more on their own than the average kid when they turn 18. The more understanding support you can give them in working with them, the better.
Wow sorry if this is all over the place...my brain is definitely not functioning on all cylinders tonight! lol I'll try to wrap it up here by saying that any teenager in foster care has likely been through some very tough shit in their lives. Abuse, neglect, multiple moves, loss/death of people close to them, bullying, lack of positive role models, having to figure out most things on their own, not having trustworthy people around them, exposure to drugs and alcohol, etc. etc. Even in the "best" cases these kids are struggling. Because really, EVERYONE struggles as a teenager. For those of you raised by loving biological parents, or who have raised your own biological kids, how many can say that the teen years were pleasant and issue free? Yeah I thought so. :-P There might be a few lucky ones out there, but overall it's HARD to be a teen. Teen years are when you're figuring out your identity and making that scary (though none of them will admit it) transition from "kid" to "adult." Now add in all the additional struggles and transitions that come with foster care, and that's a lot for anyone to take on. Imagine trying to build an identity for yourself as a young adult when you've just lost everything you've ever known...or when you've never had any consistent place to build from. So please understand that most teens don't mean to be "bad" or "difficult" or anything else. We (is it weird that i'm still considering myself part of the teen crowd at 26) are just trying to learn and figure things out for ourselves. Because of past experiences, we just happen to mess it up a lot more than your average kid. For teens who have been moved a lot, this is probably way more the case as it's going to be even harder for them to trust that anything could be long term or permanent. So try to meet us where we're at and work with us. Try not to be freaked out or thrown off by our actions. We really are trying our best, and deep down underneath all the hardened exterior there's likely a terrified little child just wanting to be loved. (But do not, under any circumstances mention that last part to a teenager! lol).
And last but not least....a GIANT thank you to those brave souls out there willing to bring foster teens into your home. I know it's tough and honestly I'm not sure if I could do it. But I can tell you it means a lot just to know that there are people out there willing to try.
Anon, I hope that answered your question. If I didn't make sense or if you or anyone else has follow-up questions please leave a comment and let me know!
---------------------
Want to ask a question of your very own? Question lines are still open, and it can all be anonymous if you're shy. Just go to http://riverbirdsplace.blogspot.com/2011/07/ask-river.html and tell me what you want to know. It doesn't have to be foster care related (but it can be). Ask me anything! :)
Anon asks: What is the one thing that you think teenage foster kids want their foster parents to know about how to deal with them?
I had a feeling this question would come up sooner or later, and to be honest I was kind of dreading it. It's a great question, but I'm not sure I want to speak for teenage foster kids everywhere. But I can tell you what I always wished my foster parents could know about me. However I'm sure if you asked this to a dozen former (or current) foster kids you'd get a dozen different answers.
For me, I would just want you to know that we are trying our very best. Teenage foster kids get a bad rap in the eyes of many. I hear often, "I would love to be a foster parent, but I would never take TEENAGERS!" spoken like teens are horrible creatures. And the truth is, sometimes we are. When I was a teen in foster care, especially in my first home, I was in trouble at school so much I nearly got kicked out. I manipulated constantly. I stole from everyone around me. (I even stole my foster parents car...results were mentioned in the sobriety post). I had all sorts of attitude and I yelled constantly. I'm sure I was not a pleasant person to be around. I don't blame people for not wanting to invite that in to their home. I really don't.
But...the key to all of this is that I wasn't trying to hurt my foster parents or anyone else. I wasn't out to "be bad" or cause anyone pain. In fact that was the last thing I would've wanted. But I had never learned anything different. I manipulated and stole because that is how I had learned to survive. I used to drive my foster mom crazy because I would sneak around in the middle of the night to get food from the kitchen, but then refuse to eat anything she had cooked for meals. It wasn't that I didn't want to eat her cooking. No, my brain had been severely twisted from the abuse I'd endured. In my mind, eating her food gave her power. Like somehow I would "owe" them if ate "their" food. I genuinely believed that I had to keep them from having any power over me by not accepting any of their kindnesses. (Similar reasoning kept me from sleeping in bed, wearing the clothes they'd bought me, etc.). But I had to eat, so at night I would sneak down and take whatever food I could find. I'd generally take extra to stash somewhere too, just in case they decided to stop feeding me.
To some of you reading this, this probably sounds nuts. But if that's what you're thinking, you haven't realized how completely abuse and other traumas can warp a person's brain long after the abuse is over. In my foster moms eyes I was giving her attitude by refusing to eat her cooking or wear the clothes she'd bought. In my mind I was keeping myself safe and surviving. I was just waiting for these nice parents to turn in to how my parents had been, because in my mind that's how all parents were. Even at 16 years old, I still had no concept of a non-abusive family. I assumed this particular family just hid it well.
I am not saying at all that foster parents should accept crappy behavior from their kids, or that every foster parent should try taking in a teen because they mean well. What I am saying though is when you see said crappy behaviors, try to look beyond the behavior and see where it might be coming from. With the food example, my foster mom could've told me I wasn't allowed to take food after meal times and tried to punish me if I did. Instead she talked to me about food options I could eat any time and started leaving my dinner plate in the fridge for just me (instead of in the big things of leftovers) so I could eat it later if I chose. For a kid who had had my dinner plate thrown out in front of me while being told I didn't deserve to eat, knowing that my food was mine and could still be mine later was HUGE for me. My foster mom didn't fully understand the reasoning at the time, but the fact that she was willing to listen and work with me meant the world to me. Slowly as I started to trust that there would be food every night I became more willing to eat with others around. Similarly, she didn't object to me moving my mattress to the floor when I was afraid of sleeping in a bed. There were just so many little things like that that she did to help. She could've easily said, "What's wrong with you? Everyone wants to sleep in a bed." Or even just put me on the spot questioning why I didn't like beds. Instead she was able to accept that I wasn't ready to explain it right then but that a mattress on the floor would work much better for me. She understood that everything was a huge adjustment process and she worked with me as much as she could.
I think not taking it personally is another big issue that goes along with this. Even the behaviors that look like they're directed right at you likely have very little to do with you. For example, a teenager telling you that they hate you and want to go live with their bio family (pretty typical I'm guessing...) doesn't mean that you're a bad parent. It just means that the teen is confused and has a lot of complicated stuff to work through. Again don't let them walk all over you, but try to figure out where it's coming from and see if you can work WITH them to fix it. I'd say more than anything that is what helped me the most. Instead of getting flustered and frustrated and angry, help them figure out where the issue is coming from and how they can deal with it. I'd say this is especially true for an older teen (which is where all of my foster experience is). A 16+ year old kid is going to be out on their own before too long. They need help to understand the how's and the why's of the world and how they can best deal with it, not arbitrary "because mom said so" type of rules and punishments. They need a chance to try a bit on their own and fail while they still have a safe place to fall back on. A foster kid, especially if you're not planning to adopt, is going to be much more on their own than the average kid when they turn 18. The more understanding support you can give them in working with them, the better.
Wow sorry if this is all over the place...my brain is definitely not functioning on all cylinders tonight! lol I'll try to wrap it up here by saying that any teenager in foster care has likely been through some very tough shit in their lives. Abuse, neglect, multiple moves, loss/death of people close to them, bullying, lack of positive role models, having to figure out most things on their own, not having trustworthy people around them, exposure to drugs and alcohol, etc. etc. Even in the "best" cases these kids are struggling. Because really, EVERYONE struggles as a teenager. For those of you raised by loving biological parents, or who have raised your own biological kids, how many can say that the teen years were pleasant and issue free? Yeah I thought so. :-P There might be a few lucky ones out there, but overall it's HARD to be a teen. Teen years are when you're figuring out your identity and making that scary (though none of them will admit it) transition from "kid" to "adult." Now add in all the additional struggles and transitions that come with foster care, and that's a lot for anyone to take on. Imagine trying to build an identity for yourself as a young adult when you've just lost everything you've ever known...or when you've never had any consistent place to build from. So please understand that most teens don't mean to be "bad" or "difficult" or anything else. We (is it weird that i'm still considering myself part of the teen crowd at 26) are just trying to learn and figure things out for ourselves. Because of past experiences, we just happen to mess it up a lot more than your average kid. For teens who have been moved a lot, this is probably way more the case as it's going to be even harder for them to trust that anything could be long term or permanent. So try to meet us where we're at and work with us. Try not to be freaked out or thrown off by our actions. We really are trying our best, and deep down underneath all the hardened exterior there's likely a terrified little child just wanting to be loved. (But do not, under any circumstances mention that last part to a teenager! lol).
And last but not least....a GIANT thank you to those brave souls out there willing to bring foster teens into your home. I know it's tough and honestly I'm not sure if I could do it. But I can tell you it means a lot just to know that there are people out there willing to try.
Anon, I hope that answered your question. If I didn't make sense or if you or anyone else has follow-up questions please leave a comment and let me know!
---------------------
Want to ask a question of your very own? Question lines are still open, and it can all be anonymous if you're shy. Just go to http://riverbirdsplace.blogspot.com/2011/07/ask-river.html and tell me what you want to know. It doesn't have to be foster care related (but it can be). Ask me anything! :)
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
It happened so fast
So i've been thinking a lot lately about why now. Why, suddenly, are my abuse memories so difficult that I can barely function? Why is something that happened 13 or more years ago now leaving me paralyzed with fear. A lot of people ask similar questions. A lot of times it's more in the form of "but you were a little kid, aren't you over that by now?" The answer to that one is yes I'd sure like to be! I've been wondering if maybe I'm just holding on to bitterness or using it as an excuse or something like that. But I really don't think that's the case. I don't feel like I'm holding on to it. It's holding on to me. Add to this that I only really, fully remembered what happened back then a couple of months ago. Before that I knew some, but I had absolutely no concept of the extent of it. That has compounded everything. But again that leaves the question, why now? Why did those memories decide to reveal themselves now?
I was talking to a friend of mine and she says it's because my mind and body feel safe enough now to process these things. Essentially, it was too much for me to process as a child, so I'm having to process it now that i've become an adult. Nice reward eh? It makes me want to pretend i'm not so safe and stable so it will all go away again! If I could keep it buried that long, why not forever? (Of course the answer to this is that I'd put myself at much bigger risk of breakdowns, suicide, alcohol, whatever else I might decide to kill myself with...and I would never find real relationships and happiness and all that...but still!)
But still the question remains....why now. So here's my answer to that.
The abuse started essentially from birth. It's debatable if I was 3 or 4 or maybe 2 the first time anything happened, but really that's not that important. The point is I grew up with it, and it was always there. I spent my childhood learning survival techniques to keep myself safe around my parents and their various addictions, outbursts, psychotic episodes, or whatever else was going on. That's the way I learned how to live, and that was my normal. I didn't have a concept of anything better or even different.
At 13 I'd had enough. Something inside me snapped and I ran away. But I had nowhere to go. I stayed with friends off and on, and I made my way on the streets. It's probably obvious, but alone on the streets is not a good place for a 13 year old to be. But I had my survival skills. That's the one thing my parents did successfully teach me. I knew how to block out the bad and focus on what I need to stay alive. I knew how to work the people around me to get what I needed. And I knew it was a matter of life or death because I was convinced if I went back to my parents after running they would kill me. And really, if you knew them, that's not far-fetched at all. I didn't trust any authority figures for help because I knew they could return me to my parents, so I did it alone and survived it. But, there's three more years of those 13 since the abuse that I was not working on healing. Instead I was still working on fighting to stay alive. In a sense, it wasn't much different than the abuse.
At 16 I ended up in foster care. I know we all want to pretend that foster care is the world of butterflies and rainbows where the poor little abused kids go to become happy, healthy, and loving. I don't mean to diss foster care...it saved my life. But, it's not even remotely easy. I had no idea how to live in any family, and suddenly I was flung into a home with complete strangers and expected to live by their routine. For someone who had grown up the way I did, it was as scary if not scarier than being on the streets. At least with abuse and danger I knew what to expect. But this kindness thing was weird. Not to mention that EVERYTHING in that house was different...and weird. Because when you walk in to your friend's house you notice it's different, not your style, and not necessarily comfortable to you. It doesn't mean it's bad, it's just one hell of an adjustment. In two years I had 3 different placements....2 family homes and one RTC that probably should be considered abusive as well. Another 2 years.
Next was college. When you're aging out of foster care, the decisions you make at 18 are some of the most important ever. In your life. Which sucks, because who really makes smart decisions when they're 18? The average kid has family to fall back on. A foster kid does not. There are people out there that will help you out at the start, but once you're out there you're pretty much out there on your own. For better or worse, it's you. Lose your scholarship? Lose your housing? Bummer. You're stuck. So needless to say even though I loved school starting college was very very stressful for me. It was so stressful in fact that I had to take a chunk of time off to go to rehab because I'd started drinking again. And another year off to resettle myself when I got so lost and crazed I couldn't concentrate and was failing anyway. With a lot of hard work I managed to finish everything in 5 years...big considering I took a year and a half off. But you see where this is going? Suddenly 13 years is sounding like a lot less.
I might be saying this just to convince myself, I'm not really sure. But as I look at this now, I've counted up 10 of those years that were nearly as stressful as the first 13. It's a different kind of stress, but it's still stress. We don't open up and deal with old stress that's still bothering us when we're still in the midst of new stress. So really, while it's been 13 years since the abuse, I've only had 3 years max to have even begun to process it. Add to that that the year or so getting out of college is another one of those that's stressful for everyone. No one knows quite what to do with themselves when making that transition from full time student to full time working world. So that takes out another year at least. Considering that i've been travelling and doing a lot of seasonal work (by choice because it's exciting and fun), I didn't leave myself a lot of time to process and grieve. So finally now life is slowing down a bit. When ya look at it this way maybe it makes sense why it's happening now. My young life was one big stress on another on another. Only recently have I become a "normal" every day, working person. Only lately have I really developed a routine where my body and mind have a chance to relax. And therefore, only recently has my body decided that it's PTSD time. Only now are the memories coming out in their full form. Kinda makes me want to go do something crazy again just to make them all stop! lol But at least now I have a bit of the reason why, which helps.
I was talking to a friend of mine and she says it's because my mind and body feel safe enough now to process these things. Essentially, it was too much for me to process as a child, so I'm having to process it now that i've become an adult. Nice reward eh? It makes me want to pretend i'm not so safe and stable so it will all go away again! If I could keep it buried that long, why not forever? (Of course the answer to this is that I'd put myself at much bigger risk of breakdowns, suicide, alcohol, whatever else I might decide to kill myself with...and I would never find real relationships and happiness and all that...but still!)
But still the question remains....why now. So here's my answer to that.
The abuse started essentially from birth. It's debatable if I was 3 or 4 or maybe 2 the first time anything happened, but really that's not that important. The point is I grew up with it, and it was always there. I spent my childhood learning survival techniques to keep myself safe around my parents and their various addictions, outbursts, psychotic episodes, or whatever else was going on. That's the way I learned how to live, and that was my normal. I didn't have a concept of anything better or even different.
At 13 I'd had enough. Something inside me snapped and I ran away. But I had nowhere to go. I stayed with friends off and on, and I made my way on the streets. It's probably obvious, but alone on the streets is not a good place for a 13 year old to be. But I had my survival skills. That's the one thing my parents did successfully teach me. I knew how to block out the bad and focus on what I need to stay alive. I knew how to work the people around me to get what I needed. And I knew it was a matter of life or death because I was convinced if I went back to my parents after running they would kill me. And really, if you knew them, that's not far-fetched at all. I didn't trust any authority figures for help because I knew they could return me to my parents, so I did it alone and survived it. But, there's three more years of those 13 since the abuse that I was not working on healing. Instead I was still working on fighting to stay alive. In a sense, it wasn't much different than the abuse.
At 16 I ended up in foster care. I know we all want to pretend that foster care is the world of butterflies and rainbows where the poor little abused kids go to become happy, healthy, and loving. I don't mean to diss foster care...it saved my life. But, it's not even remotely easy. I had no idea how to live in any family, and suddenly I was flung into a home with complete strangers and expected to live by their routine. For someone who had grown up the way I did, it was as scary if not scarier than being on the streets. At least with abuse and danger I knew what to expect. But this kindness thing was weird. Not to mention that EVERYTHING in that house was different...and weird. Because when you walk in to your friend's house you notice it's different, not your style, and not necessarily comfortable to you. It doesn't mean it's bad, it's just one hell of an adjustment. In two years I had 3 different placements....2 family homes and one RTC that probably should be considered abusive as well. Another 2 years.
Next was college. When you're aging out of foster care, the decisions you make at 18 are some of the most important ever. In your life. Which sucks, because who really makes smart decisions when they're 18? The average kid has family to fall back on. A foster kid does not. There are people out there that will help you out at the start, but once you're out there you're pretty much out there on your own. For better or worse, it's you. Lose your scholarship? Lose your housing? Bummer. You're stuck. So needless to say even though I loved school starting college was very very stressful for me. It was so stressful in fact that I had to take a chunk of time off to go to rehab because I'd started drinking again. And another year off to resettle myself when I got so lost and crazed I couldn't concentrate and was failing anyway. With a lot of hard work I managed to finish everything in 5 years...big considering I took a year and a half off. But you see where this is going? Suddenly 13 years is sounding like a lot less.
I might be saying this just to convince myself, I'm not really sure. But as I look at this now, I've counted up 10 of those years that were nearly as stressful as the first 13. It's a different kind of stress, but it's still stress. We don't open up and deal with old stress that's still bothering us when we're still in the midst of new stress. So really, while it's been 13 years since the abuse, I've only had 3 years max to have even begun to process it. Add to that that the year or so getting out of college is another one of those that's stressful for everyone. No one knows quite what to do with themselves when making that transition from full time student to full time working world. So that takes out another year at least. Considering that i've been travelling and doing a lot of seasonal work (by choice because it's exciting and fun), I didn't leave myself a lot of time to process and grieve. So finally now life is slowing down a bit. When ya look at it this way maybe it makes sense why it's happening now. My young life was one big stress on another on another. Only recently have I become a "normal" every day, working person. Only lately have I really developed a routine where my body and mind have a chance to relax. And therefore, only recently has my body decided that it's PTSD time. Only now are the memories coming out in their full form. Kinda makes me want to go do something crazy again just to make them all stop! lol But at least now I have a bit of the reason why, which helps.
More death
The tragic deaths around me seem to keep coming.
I've just learned this morning that an incredible athlete and hero to many has died. Apparently he called 911 to tell police he was going to shoot himself, and then did so before anyone could arrive to help.
This guy seemed to have everything going for him and have a dream life. He was also sexually abused as a child, among other personal life tragedies. He had spoken out publicly about his abuse to help other children. Everything I've read about him seems to show he was a really good, nice man. A friend who has met him confirms that. I had the opportunity to watch him compete live once, and it was truly incredible. He was only 29 at the time of his death. Alcoholism and other addictions were also a major factor. :(
RIP Jeret "Speedy" Peterson. The world is saddened to have lost you so soon.
http://edition.cnn.com/2011/SPORT/07/27/utah.skier.peterson/
I've just learned this morning that an incredible athlete and hero to many has died. Apparently he called 911 to tell police he was going to shoot himself, and then did so before anyone could arrive to help.
This guy seemed to have everything going for him and have a dream life. He was also sexually abused as a child, among other personal life tragedies. He had spoken out publicly about his abuse to help other children. Everything I've read about him seems to show he was a really good, nice man. A friend who has met him confirms that. I had the opportunity to watch him compete live once, and it was truly incredible. He was only 29 at the time of his death. Alcoholism and other addictions were also a major factor. :(
RIP Jeret "Speedy" Peterson. The world is saddened to have lost you so soon.
http://edition.cnn.com/2011/SPORT/07/27/utah.skier.peterson/
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
The mountain
Still not doing too well. Just feel like this mountain is too high to climb.
I was told by a friend yesterday that I need to leave the past in the past, choose to be happy, and live my life. If only it were that easy. If I could just leave it behind I would've a long time ago. I'm not trying to hold on to bitterness, but the horrors hold on to me.
I feel like I face an impossible choice. Choose to live as I am now....functional, but knowing deep down it could be better and that I'm really not ok. Or, choose to face this enormous fight, in facing what I went through head on. I thought that's what I wanted to do. I thought I was ready to fight. But now the mountain looks so high and I feel so small. I don't want to climb it anymore. It's too hard.
I'm wondering why I do try and fight. Why do I even bother to care anymore? I could surely have a lot more fun if I just left the past stuff alone and stopped thinking about it...if I left the past in the past. It wouldn't be healthy, but what does that really matter when "healthy" has me stuck in bed without the strength to do anything.
What's the point of continuing to try?
Why do I care so much about something that happened 13+ years ago? Why can't I "just leave it in the past"? Have I become that bitter, that I'm blaming my parents and the others rather than taking charge of my own life? Am I making excuses like they say I am? Why can't I let it be and move on?
I don't know. All I do know is that right now I just want to close my eyes and when I open them hope that the mountain has somehow disappeared, because I sure as hell don't want to climb it. Maybe I need to just walk the other direction and forget about whatever's at the top or on the other side.
I was told by a friend yesterday that I need to leave the past in the past, choose to be happy, and live my life. If only it were that easy. If I could just leave it behind I would've a long time ago. I'm not trying to hold on to bitterness, but the horrors hold on to me.
I feel like I face an impossible choice. Choose to live as I am now....functional, but knowing deep down it could be better and that I'm really not ok. Or, choose to face this enormous fight, in facing what I went through head on. I thought that's what I wanted to do. I thought I was ready to fight. But now the mountain looks so high and I feel so small. I don't want to climb it anymore. It's too hard.
I'm wondering why I do try and fight. Why do I even bother to care anymore? I could surely have a lot more fun if I just left the past stuff alone and stopped thinking about it...if I left the past in the past. It wouldn't be healthy, but what does that really matter when "healthy" has me stuck in bed without the strength to do anything.
What's the point of continuing to try?
Why do I care so much about something that happened 13+ years ago? Why can't I "just leave it in the past"? Have I become that bitter, that I'm blaming my parents and the others rather than taking charge of my own life? Am I making excuses like they say I am? Why can't I let it be and move on?
I don't know. All I do know is that right now I just want to close my eyes and when I open them hope that the mountain has somehow disappeared, because I sure as hell don't want to climb it. Maybe I need to just walk the other direction and forget about whatever's at the top or on the other side.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Creepy?
Does it make me weird/creepy that I love going to random parks and watching children of absolutely no relation to me play. I think it has to do with reminding myself that there are children out there growing up happy and innocent, and that good still exists in the world. There's nothing creepy about it for me, I just wonder if, with the way the world is today, if parents are thinking i'm a child molester or something. It's probably a good thing i'm not male in this case. Though I think realistically they probably don't even notice i'm there. One dad was so focused on watching his two little boys that he nearly stepped on me where I sat in the grass! Regardless, I usually bring a book with me so i'm not "just" staring. (I tend to zone out a lot...probably doesn't help the appearance).
Anyway, parks and children playing have become incredibly peaceful to me recently. I just love everything about it. It just feels like a little bubble of peace and happiness. Maybe it's pretending for that moment that I'm in their world, and my biggest worry is what slide to go down first. But I usually don't think that much about it. I just watch and feel comforted. It calms me when I'm panicking and when I'm hurting. Maybe it's just because it's simple. The stress of the world doesn't exist there.
I especially love youth sports. Maybe because then I have something specific to watch. For reasons entirely unknown to me, I especially love youth baseball. I really don't know what it is but something about the atmosphere at the park when kids are playing baseball just melts my stress away.
Today has been very, very difficult for me. A lot of struggles have been going on that I don't have the energy to go in to now. But this evening I picked up a "picnic" dinner from a burger place I like and I went to the park by my house with the baseball fields. Luckily for me there were games going on. I sat there for at least an hour (zoned out through a lot of it so not sure exactly) and watched a part of two different games. The kids playing were probably 6-7, so there was very little actual baseball going on. Now and then, a kid actually threw a ball that was catchable. But mostly they just flung it in random directions and then chased it. Kids managed to hit the ball but forgot to run the bases. Or, my personal favorite, one kid remembered while the other already on base forgot and they ended up both running together. Maybe that's what makes it fun...it's much more silliness than sport. Then again I like watching the older kids too, and they're good. If I have cable when it's on, I even like watching the little league world series when they play it on ESPN. Anyway, I spent at least an hour there...though I kept zoning out thinking about the mini baseball going on in front of me and forgetting everything else. Multiple times I had to remind myself where I was and what was going on around me. But considering the alternatives I could've been doing while panicking this badly, I would say watching kiddies play ball is a pretty good choice to zone out to. Now if only I could get them to play at all hours! :-P
Anyway, parks and children playing have become incredibly peaceful to me recently. I just love everything about it. It just feels like a little bubble of peace and happiness. Maybe it's pretending for that moment that I'm in their world, and my biggest worry is what slide to go down first. But I usually don't think that much about it. I just watch and feel comforted. It calms me when I'm panicking and when I'm hurting. Maybe it's just because it's simple. The stress of the world doesn't exist there.
I especially love youth sports. Maybe because then I have something specific to watch. For reasons entirely unknown to me, I especially love youth baseball. I really don't know what it is but something about the atmosphere at the park when kids are playing baseball just melts my stress away.
Today has been very, very difficult for me. A lot of struggles have been going on that I don't have the energy to go in to now. But this evening I picked up a "picnic" dinner from a burger place I like and I went to the park by my house with the baseball fields. Luckily for me there were games going on. I sat there for at least an hour (zoned out through a lot of it so not sure exactly) and watched a part of two different games. The kids playing were probably 6-7, so there was very little actual baseball going on. Now and then, a kid actually threw a ball that was catchable. But mostly they just flung it in random directions and then chased it. Kids managed to hit the ball but forgot to run the bases. Or, my personal favorite, one kid remembered while the other already on base forgot and they ended up both running together. Maybe that's what makes it fun...it's much more silliness than sport. Then again I like watching the older kids too, and they're good. If I have cable when it's on, I even like watching the little league world series when they play it on ESPN. Anyway, I spent at least an hour there...though I kept zoning out thinking about the mini baseball going on in front of me and forgetting everything else. Multiple times I had to remind myself where I was and what was going on around me. But considering the alternatives I could've been doing while panicking this badly, I would say watching kiddies play ball is a pretty good choice to zone out to. Now if only I could get them to play at all hours! :-P
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Sobriety
This is a topic I struggle with a lot. It seems to be coming up in my life a lot lately so I want to write about it.
I started drinking heavily when I was 13. I'm not sure when I took my first drink, I don't really remember. Alcohol was always around for me. It was very much a part of life. A lot of the people who hurt me as a child drank a lot, so I wish I would've/could've been smart and turned away from it. Instead, it was very natural for me to take to it. It was there, and nobody really stopped me.
When I was out on my own after I'd run away, it became an important part of my life. As bad as it may sound now, I believe that when I was on my own (from 13-16) alcohol and the drugs that I had started doing at this time saved my life. I had to make it on my own because I was terrified of what would happen if I went back home. The things I did to survive are the type of things you don't want to remember. They're the type of things that a person can't do for long without losing their sanity. I had to send my brain elsewhere. (I didn't look at it that way at the time, but in hindsight it makes sense).
I got sober the first time when I was 16 after nearly killing myself and some friends while driving drunk. This is a very painful story for me. I might tell it sometime. Maybe. Thankfully everyone survived with no permanent injuries. For now I'll just say it was a major turning point in my life.
I got sober, moved in with my foster family that I consider my family today. I stayed sober for 3.5 years. Then there was college. As we all know, alcohol is everywhere in college. I started convincing myself that my addiction was "just back when I was a stupid teenager." And that "I'm stable now, I can handle it." And that having just one drink would be "No big deal." Yeah...wishful thinking. Ended up on a semester-long drinking binge that nearly got me kicked out of school. To rehab I went. I realized then that sobriety would have to be a life-long commitment for me. I got sober and worked hard to keep it that way.
That time it lasted 5.5 years. I felt great. I was able to be around alcohol with no desire to drink it. I felt confident and secure in sobriety. Then just recently, right before my last move, I started to have a lot of repressed memories come back all at once. I'm not sure if it was related to the impending move, as I was moving back to the area where I grew up, or not. All I know is that my world I thought I knew suddenly came crashing down. The past that I thought I had a handle on turned out to be much, much worse than I'd originally remembered. Everything felt out of control, I was angry, I didn't care anymore, and my roommate had beer in the fridge. Bad combination. That started me on a week long binge that included all sorts of craziness. It was very scary what a short time it took to go from sober to drinking constantly. The only reason I was able to get sober was I knew I had to move, which included an 8 hour drive that I obviously couldn't do while drinking.
As I've mentioned in other posts, sobriety didn't last long when I moved. My housing fell through and I ended up living in my car. The stress of being back here was too much and I had a breakdown complete with drinking again. But I'm back on the wagon now...back to sober. I've been sober for 59 days now and every single one of them has been a fight. All of that confidence and security around alcohol has been 100% erased. I get angry and jealous of my friends that get to go have a beer at the end of a long day. I hate facing my abuse memories sober. I so badly want to erase the bad out of my mind like I used to be able to, even if just for a few minutes. I know I can't, and I know all the reasons why, but it's still a hard and constant fight.
Sobriety has come up in my life in two big ways lately. The first was yesterday. Through a mountain biking program I've been working with that takes youth organizations from the city on rides, I had the chance to work with a group from an adolescent substance abuse treatment place. I was a bit nervous going in since I did most of my heavy drinking and drug use was in my teens. I wasn't sure how I would react to teens from a similar situation. The night before I started having panic attacks...thinking what if I hear them talk about drinking and drugs and I want to go back? I also started having tons of memories from my time out on my own which i usually don't think about too much (since it's all still a bit foggy).
Anyway, I was relieved from the start to find that I was able to quickly look at their teenage bs and see it as teenage bs. I had no desire to go back there. There were definitely triggers though, as the kids all seemed to have similar stories to mine (homelessness, foster care, neglect, etc.). But I hit it off really well with a particular kid and ended up working with him for most of the day. At the end, we all circled up and everyone had a chance to say what they'd like about the day and how they felt about their ride. He looked right at me, smiled, and said that he'd actually really enjoyed a day being sober. And it really looked and felt genuine the way he said it. It melted my heart and meant way more to me than I'd expected. This was the kid who all day long as making jokes about wanting to go party, asking where the keg is, etc. etc. (that teenage bs I was referring to). It felt amazingly good to realize that I had positively influenced someone else's sobriety. I made that one day easier for him, and really that's what it's all about. The one day at a time thing never changes. And in a sense that's what sobriety (and healing, and life in general) is all about...being there for each other and helping each other to get one more day...one more moment. It was a very moving, important day for me. Surprisingly the staff told me that this particular boy rarely opens up to anyone and usually has a lot more tough guy attitude.
So now today I find out that Amy Winehouse has died, most likely of a drug overdose. This really hurts me to hear. She was almost exactly a year older than me. She's where I could've been (well, I can't sing, but otherwise), if my life had gone a very different direction. I loved her song Rehab when it first came out. I thought it was hilarious. Until I realized how badly she really did need rehab. Then it made me sad for her. Now I can't listen to it at all. I wasn't a huge fan of her music, and don't know a lot about her, but her death is hitting me hard. It just feels close to home. A young addict like I was/am. Another reason to keep fighting and to stay sober. Another reason to not get lazy about recovery. I need stuff like this in my life. It's good for me. I need to see others battling addiction so I can stay strong. That's what meetings and such are all about. I'm not sure where I'm going with this except to say that I'm struggling now. In the last few days my heart as felt both lifted and positive but also heavy and low. I hope that this death will help encourage other young ppl to get help. I hope that the boy I worked with will be able to get and stay sober successfully. I hope for a lot of things but i'm struggling. Struggling to hold on to hope.
I started drinking heavily when I was 13. I'm not sure when I took my first drink, I don't really remember. Alcohol was always around for me. It was very much a part of life. A lot of the people who hurt me as a child drank a lot, so I wish I would've/could've been smart and turned away from it. Instead, it was very natural for me to take to it. It was there, and nobody really stopped me.
When I was out on my own after I'd run away, it became an important part of my life. As bad as it may sound now, I believe that when I was on my own (from 13-16) alcohol and the drugs that I had started doing at this time saved my life. I had to make it on my own because I was terrified of what would happen if I went back home. The things I did to survive are the type of things you don't want to remember. They're the type of things that a person can't do for long without losing their sanity. I had to send my brain elsewhere. (I didn't look at it that way at the time, but in hindsight it makes sense).
I got sober the first time when I was 16 after nearly killing myself and some friends while driving drunk. This is a very painful story for me. I might tell it sometime. Maybe. Thankfully everyone survived with no permanent injuries. For now I'll just say it was a major turning point in my life.
I got sober, moved in with my foster family that I consider my family today. I stayed sober for 3.5 years. Then there was college. As we all know, alcohol is everywhere in college. I started convincing myself that my addiction was "just back when I was a stupid teenager." And that "I'm stable now, I can handle it." And that having just one drink would be "No big deal." Yeah...wishful thinking. Ended up on a semester-long drinking binge that nearly got me kicked out of school. To rehab I went. I realized then that sobriety would have to be a life-long commitment for me. I got sober and worked hard to keep it that way.
That time it lasted 5.5 years. I felt great. I was able to be around alcohol with no desire to drink it. I felt confident and secure in sobriety. Then just recently, right before my last move, I started to have a lot of repressed memories come back all at once. I'm not sure if it was related to the impending move, as I was moving back to the area where I grew up, or not. All I know is that my world I thought I knew suddenly came crashing down. The past that I thought I had a handle on turned out to be much, much worse than I'd originally remembered. Everything felt out of control, I was angry, I didn't care anymore, and my roommate had beer in the fridge. Bad combination. That started me on a week long binge that included all sorts of craziness. It was very scary what a short time it took to go from sober to drinking constantly. The only reason I was able to get sober was I knew I had to move, which included an 8 hour drive that I obviously couldn't do while drinking.
As I've mentioned in other posts, sobriety didn't last long when I moved. My housing fell through and I ended up living in my car. The stress of being back here was too much and I had a breakdown complete with drinking again. But I'm back on the wagon now...back to sober. I've been sober for 59 days now and every single one of them has been a fight. All of that confidence and security around alcohol has been 100% erased. I get angry and jealous of my friends that get to go have a beer at the end of a long day. I hate facing my abuse memories sober. I so badly want to erase the bad out of my mind like I used to be able to, even if just for a few minutes. I know I can't, and I know all the reasons why, but it's still a hard and constant fight.
Sobriety has come up in my life in two big ways lately. The first was yesterday. Through a mountain biking program I've been working with that takes youth organizations from the city on rides, I had the chance to work with a group from an adolescent substance abuse treatment place. I was a bit nervous going in since I did most of my heavy drinking and drug use was in my teens. I wasn't sure how I would react to teens from a similar situation. The night before I started having panic attacks...thinking what if I hear them talk about drinking and drugs and I want to go back? I also started having tons of memories from my time out on my own which i usually don't think about too much (since it's all still a bit foggy).
Anyway, I was relieved from the start to find that I was able to quickly look at their teenage bs and see it as teenage bs. I had no desire to go back there. There were definitely triggers though, as the kids all seemed to have similar stories to mine (homelessness, foster care, neglect, etc.). But I hit it off really well with a particular kid and ended up working with him for most of the day. At the end, we all circled up and everyone had a chance to say what they'd like about the day and how they felt about their ride. He looked right at me, smiled, and said that he'd actually really enjoyed a day being sober. And it really looked and felt genuine the way he said it. It melted my heart and meant way more to me than I'd expected. This was the kid who all day long as making jokes about wanting to go party, asking where the keg is, etc. etc. (that teenage bs I was referring to). It felt amazingly good to realize that I had positively influenced someone else's sobriety. I made that one day easier for him, and really that's what it's all about. The one day at a time thing never changes. And in a sense that's what sobriety (and healing, and life in general) is all about...being there for each other and helping each other to get one more day...one more moment. It was a very moving, important day for me. Surprisingly the staff told me that this particular boy rarely opens up to anyone and usually has a lot more tough guy attitude.
So now today I find out that Amy Winehouse has died, most likely of a drug overdose. This really hurts me to hear. She was almost exactly a year older than me. She's where I could've been (well, I can't sing, but otherwise), if my life had gone a very different direction. I loved her song Rehab when it first came out. I thought it was hilarious. Until I realized how badly she really did need rehab. Then it made me sad for her. Now I can't listen to it at all. I wasn't a huge fan of her music, and don't know a lot about her, but her death is hitting me hard. It just feels close to home. A young addict like I was/am. Another reason to keep fighting and to stay sober. Another reason to not get lazy about recovery. I need stuff like this in my life. It's good for me. I need to see others battling addiction so I can stay strong. That's what meetings and such are all about. I'm not sure where I'm going with this except to say that I'm struggling now. In the last few days my heart as felt both lifted and positive but also heavy and low. I hope that this death will help encourage other young ppl to get help. I hope that the boy I worked with will be able to get and stay sober successfully. I hope for a lot of things but i'm struggling. Struggling to hold on to hope.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)