Why Am I Me? Part One

In self discovery, some times the way to figure out who we are, why we are the way we are, and how to change things about ourselves, is to go back to the beginning. Go back to the things that formed who we are today. The good, the bad, the happy, the ugly.

When it comes to my blogs and what to write next, I go to Heavenly Father in prayer. Last week I asked what I should write about next. The answer was a difficult one for me. It was to share more in depth about me, things that shaped me (and not just to share the good things). I have put it off. I fear opening up, especially so publicly. I even questioned the answer, but felt strongly that to share is to help someone. Now, I don't know who this is for. Is it for someone I know? A stranger who happens upon my blog? Or is it for me and helping me to heal and move on? I have no idea whatsoever. All I know is that I am supposed to write it.

I honestly don't even know where to start...

For as long as I can remember, I have been very shy and unsure of myself. I lacked confidence and it always showed. I was teased, made fun of, and treated like the loser throughout school. It actually started with girls treating me that way. I usually would hang out with the boys at school. I was the only girl who would dig in the dirt for worms with them or be part of the "mystery solvers club." I wasn't afraid to get dirty. I didn't worry about having the most popular clothes (why should I? I was just going to get them dirty by having fun outside!) So the girls picked on me. One actually pulled down my pants at recess then proceeded to make fun of me and my underwear (was I really the only 2nd grader who had My Little Pony undies?!?!). She made sure to tell all the boys I was friends with that I was wearing stupid underwear.

I really struggled. One time I was waiting in the hallway after school for the bus. A boy was staring at me. It made me uncomfortable so I asked, "What are you staring at?!?!" He snapped back, "Definitely not you!" In my 6 year old mind, I instantly thought, "He is right. Why would anyone want to look at me. How stupid am I for thinking he was looking at me."

I was terrified to go to school. Then one day I got to my class early. There was another boy sitting in the room already. He started talking to me and showed me how to draw a car. He became the one who would beat on the other boys who would throw rocks at me during recess (and the 2 boys who would chase me trying to kiss me). He became my safe person. I don't really have many memories of him after that. Just that he was the one who treated me nicely when I was most scared and who protected me.

Fast forward many, many years.... We moved from Alaska to Utah (I had grown up in Alaska). As a teenager I clung to guys to get my self esteem. I was treated badly by the guys, but I felt like I was nothing if a guy didn't like me so I clung to them no matter how awful they were. I remember spiraling out of control when I got dumped the first time. It is horribly embarrassing to look back on it. He was my first boyfriend. I honestly thought we would stay high school sweethearts (silly 15 year old girl thoughts). So when he lied to me, started going after other girls, then finally dumped me (but lied about the reason why), I felt like my world had ended. I honestly didn't know how to handle it. He was my first kiss. The first boy to like me back. If he stopped liking me then I must be nothing. As silly as it seems, it crushed me. The next guy I dated was even worse. In fact they just kept getting worse. And of course when I got too clingy, they dumped me. Looking back, I totally don't blame them. But in the moment it was my survival. I felt if I wasn't liked that I was nothing and not worthy of living.

Why was I that way??? I really wish I could understand it. I was so emotionally unhealthy and that caused me to make such terrible mistakes.

My senior year we moved back to Alaska- to the same town I grew up in. I hadn't seen anyone in years. It was like starting new again. I had a couple friends that I had been friends with nearly my whole life, that had told me they were excited to have me back so we could hang out. But once school started they acted like they didn't know me. I wasn't cool enough for their group. So I floundered. I didn't fit in anywhere. Then one day a familiar face welcomed me back. It was the boy from first grade. All the feelings of being safe came back. We started hanging out and he became the protector again.

Unfortunately, he was not a good influence to have. He was into smoking, drugs, and alcohol. But he accepted me. He protected me (at least that is what I thought and what he had told me.... I found out the truth later). So to follow my pattern... I ended up dating him. I then moved in with him and married him the summer right after graduation. Then 11 months after we got married, we had a child.

Due to my low self esteem, I didn't let myself see all the warning signs. The HUGE red flags. They were obvious red flags too. But I was so desperate to be accepted, to be loved, to be completed by someone else because I had always felt like I wasn't whole....that I married him anyway.

I was 18. I thought I knew everything (HA! That makes me laugh now).

Have you read the latest articles about Gas Lighting? (I recommend looking it up...) I had never heard of it until recently. When I read about it my thought was, "Wow, did they watch my first marriage and use that to write an article?!?!" The dictionary definition is, "manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their own sanity."

He started out small. He would tell me lies about people. It was usually bad things about guys because he thought all guys were a threat. Then would tell me all these sweet things he had done for friends (look at what a good guy I am). These things would come up in conversation with the people involved and I would find out they weren't true in the slightest. I would confront him on them and he would claim he never said those things. He would do this often. I could have proof of the lie and he would just tell me I was crazy, remembering wrong, or made it up in my head. Even if I had others to back me up on it because they heard the lie too.

It just escalated from there.

I was already weak and he exploited it and used it to benefit himself.

He tore me down all the time, but would usually mask it as it coming from someone else. "So-and-so said this about you..." When they really didn't. I would have bouts of being stronger and would stand up to him. When I did, things got so much worse. Many times I had bruises in the shape of his hands on my upper arms. There was one time when I called him out on a lie and he got so mad that he threw a full 20 oz Sprite bottle at my head. It flew right past my ear (I felt the wind from it as it flew within an inch of my head) and exploded against the wall. Sticky soda all over me, the wall, the couch... and he made me believe it was my fault. In fact, I am the one who cleaned up the mess from it.

He turned me against my family. They told me truths about him and he would convince me they were lying about him to me. We actually moved from Alaska to Utah to run from all the "lies" about him. He couldn't even get a job because he kept being fired for lying and stealing.

He had me isolated. We lived in a basement apartment, which was rather dark. When he would come home from work, if the blinds were opened he would accuse me of having them open so that I could show off myself to the neighbor teens. If my hair was brushed and I was dressed in something other than the pajamas I wore to bed, he would accuse me of cheating. I couldn't wear makeup unless I only put it on when he was home and would be home, otherwise I was doing it for cheating purposes.

I was so alone. I didn't feel I could turn to my family for help. I didn't have any friends. I had a couple friends that I had made when I moved to Utah when I was 12, but he tried hard to put a wedge between us, so I backed away from those friendships. I was alone. No one to turn to.

I tried to leave multiple times. He laughed in my face. He told me I could never support myself and my daughter. He said no one else would ever want me. If that didn't work, then he would start sobbing and beg me to stay. Make promises that he wouldn't hurt us again and would treat me better.

I had a feeling one time to search this kind of hidden area of the apartment. I found a notebook he had been journaling in. I was sick to my stomach reading what he wrote...

There was one time I came home from the store and found him crying. I asked what was wrong and he told me that he had just talked to his brother. That he had fallen and hurt his back and may be paralized from it. I found out from the journal that it was actually his girlfriend on the side had miscarried and he was grieving the loss of his child (I spoke to his brother later and found out nothing had ever happened to his back...)

I also found out that he had plotted my death. He had written in great detail about it.

It is an eerie, creepy feeling to read about how you are going to die.

We were going on a trip with my sister for my Birthday. We were going to be camping in Southern Utah. His plan was to wait util everyone was asleep, then he would smother me with saran wrap. Once I was dead he would go burn the saran wrap in the camp fire and go back to bed. He was going to place our 8 month old child over my face in the morning and claim she had smothered me in my sleep.

I found this after the trip. Something had gone wrong on the trip that made him unable to follow through with it.

Words cannot describe how I felt when I read that. How I still feel to this day about it. For many, many years I couldn't touch saran wrap or even see it without going into a panic attack and feel like I couldn't breathe.

I told him I read it. Do you know what he said??? "That journal was for therapy. The therapist told me to write OPPOSITE of how I feel. That is what I did." Wow, he really thought I was totally stupid. I never believed that excuse. I wanted to leave so badly. But he had me convinced that he would get custody because I was "crazy." So I told my sister about the journal and what was written in it. I told her I was going to give it to her the next time I saw her. I wanted someone to have proof so that when I ended up dead they would know he was to blame. I thought I had hidden it well enough... But he found it and got rid of it. So then he tried to convince me it didn't exist because I didn't have it to prove otherwise. I made it all up.

These are just a few things that I went through in that marriage. (and I am not going to include what my daughter went through, because that isn't my story to share, but hers) I was lucky that my parents stepped in. They paid for the divorce that I couldn't afford. I was so scared of getting the divorce. I believed him that I was nothing and that if I left him I would be alone forever. I believed him that he would take away my daughter if I tried to leave. But my parents had already paid for it, so I went through with it.

I had a complete breakdown. I know that doesn't make any sense. You would think that being free from an abusive marriage would have made me so happy. But after years of being molded to believe that I literally couldn't live without him, it wasn't so easy. Also, it was hard to face the truth of who I had married. That I would bring a child into this world with such a monster. I had no idea how to recover. I hadn't graduated high school. I had dropped out for stupid reasons. I had no training. If I worked AND paid for day care, I couldn't afford to live on my own. I didn't know what to do.

Some people shame those who have an emotional breakdown. They just don't understand. And they are lucky that they don't understand how it feels, but I wish they would at least try to be kind about it. When the only world you knew was torn down piece by piece by an abuser, then built back up to only be the way they formulate for it to be built back up.... you remove that foundation, which is the abuser, and everything crashes down. You can't remember who you were before they tore you down (or at least can't believe you could ever be that way again). You cannot fathom how you are going to rebuild your world back up ALL BY YOURSELF. It is scary. It is overwhelming. And unfortunately this happens to far to many women (I am sure it happens to men too, but more often to women).

I am here to tell you, IT IS POSSIBLE. Not only is it possible, but YOU CAN DO IT! You are worth it. You are worth facing that scary unknown. You may feel alone, but you aren't. I felt alone, but I really did have my family and I had Jesus Christ and God (even though at the time I wanted nothing to do with deity). Once I allowed myself to realize that I wasn't alone (even though my ex had worked hard for years to make me believe I had no one), things got easier and I was able to piece my life back together. If you are struggling, please know you are not alone.

This was a lot longer than I intended, but still feel it was supposed to be written. This is just part one... Look for part two soon. Trust me, part two gets happier :)