My Trauma and My Message

For those wondering why I'm sharing this, myself included, I am telling you all about myself so you understand my message and why I bother adding it.

If you need help, I have links at the bottom of this post. Speak Up About Mental Health.

TL;DR: Everyone reacts differently to stresses and what messed me up might be a normal Tuesday for someone else. The message here is we all have parts of our lives that suck for us. Those parts shape us, mold us into who we are. And sometimes, we need help overcoming the obstacles in our life.

Trauma is Trauma

Divorced Parents + Abusive Stepmother

Like many kids of the 80's and 90's, my parents divorced when I was 3 years-old. My dad immediately remarried a woman who physically and emotionally abused me during every visitation session (which my dad skipped out on), and my mother dedicated her life and energy to raising me. Thanks mom!

Diagnosed Attention Deficit Hyper Activity Disorder (ADHD)

I was a nightmare child. Seriously. A nightmare. My behavior problems were so bad, I was thrown out of multiple daycares and had one where the director threatened to choke a glass of water down my throat just to shut me up. If I didn't think an adult had appropriate control over a situation, I would take it from them, and being the charismatic maniac that I am, I would get all the kids to follow me. Pandemonium.

Sexually Molested

At 6 years-old, a family friend molested me while my mom and his mom were having a Girl's Day. I told my mom when she got home, the police were called, the boy was arrested, we both ended up in therapy, and in a sick way, this singular event opened the door to a lot of much needed therapy.

Speech Therapy

This one still makes me laugh. One of the daycares I was at played the movie The Newsies so often that I developed a New York accent as a born/raised Southern Californian. But hey, I met my best friend in speech therapy, so I won't complain.

Dyslexic and Illiterate

My father was diagnosed with Dyslexia, but I never was. However, I didn't learn to read until I was 10 years-old and only then because I was quarantined for Shingles and Ring Worm for 21 days. My mom almost killed me because again, behavior problems. I believe I have Dyscalculia, which is a relative of dyslexia and means that my brain doesn't fully comprehend mathematical principles. For example, I can understand addition and multiplication, but not subtraction and division. Even now, as a 34 year-old, I solve subtraction and division by backing into the answer with addition and multiplication.

Always the Outsider; Collector of Puppies

For reasons probably hidden above but unknown to me, I was always an outsider at school, at church, and in my neighborhood. I lived in the poor part of town and went to school clear across the city because my behavior problems put me with a special education teacher. Before 3rd grade, I was the ring leader and disrupter of peace. After, I was the freak no one wanted around. But always, I was a collector of puppies, people bullied by others that I felt I had to protect. This theme continues throughout the rest of my life.

Perfectionist Failure

My mother taught me to always do my best, and as long as I did, then it was good enough. If my best was a C, then a C was fine. Sounds great on paper, but the result was that my best was never good enough for me. I had to be perfect, the best. Anything less meant I was a failure. That's not my mom's fault, but it built a heck of a foundation for self-doubt and anxiety.

Abandonment Issues

I mentioned my parents divorced and my dad wasn't around for visitation, but it gets so much worse. He was radio silent for so long that I legit thought he died on a fishing trip. No one said that; it's the rationality of a child's mind grasping at a reason why her daddy didn't love her enough to visit.

This one still hurts, mostly because my dad died last year after spending the last 2 years trying to make up for all the years he wasted. He died when we were on good terms, and I still mourn the loss of what could have been.

But the kicker is that perfectionist characteristic coupled with the abandonment issues left me utterly terrified of failing at anything and losing everything. I couldn't make my mom mad or disappoint her because if I did, she might leave me too. Again, she never said that, but in my mind, it was a guarantee.

My Message

We all have scars, nightmares that haunt us, things we wish never happened. I didn't realize how much I have lived through until I went to a therapist for suicidal thoughts and crippling anxiety. I thought I had a pretty good life. I have a loving mom, got great grades through high school and college, have a good paying job and a long career path, a great husband and two amazing kids. My life should be perfect, the dream life.

But I was thinking about suicide? Why? So many people have had so more horrifying experiences. I should be thankful. I should be happy. The fact that I'm not makes me a whiner, makes me weak. A failure.

That's what I thought when I went into Intense Outpatient (IOP) therapy early last year, which is the step either just before or just after hospitalization.

In IOP, I learned it isn't the size of the trauma, it's the impact. For example, I never considered being sexually molested a bad thing because I got the help I needed and I saw how the system was supposed to work. It taught me that I was safe and no one had the right to touch me like that. But there were others in my IOP group that went through very similar situations and still wake up in cold sweats.

Your traumas are valid. Your feelings are valid. You aren't a whiner, or weak, or pathetic.

Impact on my Writing

I largely write character-driven stories, and I try to make their problems relatable. I show the underlying fears and doubts, the traumas that haunt my characters, and then I show them growing to face their demons, unravel the web of self-doubt, burn away the negative self-talk, and become a better version of themselves.

I show psychological breakdowns and flashbacks to traumatic events, PTSD episodes, and self-harm. I present grounding techniques and discuss the underlying elements as I move toward positive change with my characters.

Honestly, a huge part of this was for my own benefit. I worked through a lot of my problems by writing stories about them. Shifting Arrangements, for example, deals with my abandonment issues with my father. Ironically, I started Shifting Arrangements the day after my father died and before I found out he was dead. Fate maybe?

My Hope and Dream

I hope my stories help others, maybe even you, Dear Reader. I hope the scenarios I describe in my books are powerful enough to resonate with someone and that person can grow along side my characters. My dream is to get a letter from someone telling me they are all right, that they are working through their trauma, but they are still here. They are still trying.

If you need help

If you need help, someone to listen, someone to guide you through the darkness in your life, please, please get help. Call a suicide prevention hotline. Walk into a doctor's office. Find a therapist. Therapy sessions are out there. You are not alone. I was surprised at how much better I felt just realizing that others were messed up too, that it wasn't just me.

Foundation for Mental Health

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