This Puzzled Life is a mental health and recovery blog exploring addiction, trauma healing, LGBTQ experiences, humor, and the strange moments that shape us.
She has two faces. One face that she shows the world, loved ones, and in public. The smiling one. The happy, friendly, and talkative one. The confident one full of laughter and positivity. The face that everyone is used to.
The second face is the real face. The one she tries not to show anyone. The face behind closed doors, when she’s alone away from the world, in the security of her own emotions that she doesn’t want to show anyone else or have to explain them. It’s exhausting trying to look happy and like nothing is bothering you. The face that stares off at nothing or patterns on the floor or drapes.
The face that cries in the shower, in bed, car rides alone, cries sitting on the couch, or doing things around for house. The sad face that stares back at her in the mirror and looks nothing like she used to be. Well to her anyway. Others say she looks the same. The face that looks strong to the people she knows, but is really just shards of broken glass inside. Yes, the girl that was there for everyone, and strong for others..is now split into two.
Two faces, one broken spirit. She can’t bear the losses. It feels like a chapter of a wonderful book closed never to be open again.
All she has are memories and visions in her head that she plays over and over. Nothing is the same to her. Everything is different. She can’t cope with daily life, her Doctor said. So she writes to help herself, and she has her two faces.
What’s funny is, the sad face is the face worth a thousand words underneath in the depths of complexity. While the happy face full of laughter, love, positiveness, and fun..is a straight shooter.”
“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’”
—Mary Anne Radmacher
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! I never thought that I would ever see the end to this set of blog posts. With it being such an incredibly difficult topic, I chose to take my time and release anything I needed no matter the pain.
Fast forward to 2012. I eventually underwent a total knee replacement in my thirties. It was the most excruciating pain imaginable. The care I received from my orthopedic surgeon’s nurse practitioner mentally transported me back to the days and specific events associated with my ex-husband. The flashbacks were unsettling. I would be ridiculed for crying again, this time by a medical professional. I vowed to avoid doctors for the rest of my life whenever possible. I wish I could say that I would not be treated that way in the medical community again. However, this has occurred repeatedly.
I was so upset at an urgent care facility that I accidentally wet myself. The practitioner made fun of me yet again. I believe that in various areas of education, when the topic of “transference” is discussed, the idea is often conveyed in a manner that causes students to negate the humanity of themselves and others. They often lose sight of the Hippocratic Oath, which states, “First, do no harm.”
In the United States, from 2003 to 2014, 8.8% of approximately 120,000 suicide victims have chronic pain. And has appeared to increase over time (Petrosky et al.,2018)
Within the last ten to fifteen years, I’ve also had neck surgery, two back surgeries, gall bladder surgery, trigeminal neuralgia known as the “Suicide Disease”, elbow surgery, a hysterectomy, spinal cord stimulator, left knee bone graft where I also had blood clots in both my leg and lungs. Additionally, I experienced COVID-19 several times while simultaneously being dealt another blood clot in my lungs. I now also have asthma as a result of contracting the virus.
Within the past year, the local orthopedic facility has seen me many times. Each time I consulted various practitioners, they consistently informed me that there was nothing wrong with me. But I was determined to be the squeaky wheel until I found help. I was compelled to seek practitioners in a different state. Through my tears, I have persistently sought answers for my pain with the guidance of my dear “coach.” The suicidal ideations have been continual while going through this long, arduous process. A portion of the PTSD I experience is related to these and other situations. And to think, it was entirely preventable. This is one of my favorite quotes that pertains to this very topic is..
“If you don’t heal what hurts, you’ll bleed on those that didn’t cut you.”
-Anonymous
I am also about to undergo my thirteenth knee surgery. It is a revision surgery for knee replacement in which the prosthetic is loosening from the bone. This means that It has to be removed and another one installed. I have received only thirteen of the thirty years that would provide me relief. . I am now absolutely terrified of going through this surgery again. The physical therapy will be challenging, and I will likely cry during every session as well.
Needless to say, pain is a significant trigger for me. It elicits a variety of reactions, both visible and invisible. I have also come to realize that Dissociative Identity Disorder may not respond well to anesthesia either. I have been trapped in a mental prison, and chained to each of my perpetrators. But I must honestly say that it was all an illusion. What I have come to realize through many years of abuse is, “YOU CANNOT, IN ANY WAY, OWN OR POSSESS A CHILD OF GOD!” That was his disillusionment.
“Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that’s what makes you strong.” —Sarah Dessen
**And as always, don’t forget to watch the video below!**
“The more you trust your intuition, the more empowered you become, the stronger you become, and the happier you will become.”
-Gisele Bundchen
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away! Ready. Set. Blog! I hope this blog has brought insight and the knowledge that you are not alone. And that just because someone can’t see your emotional wounds doesn’t mean that it’s not there.
While he psychologically manipulated me, I hung on his every word as if it were scripture. I accept full responsibility for all my actions. But the situation seemed to be escalating exponentially. We married four years later. I do not distinctly remember feeling genuinely happy about it. I just thought that marrying was the next logical step. I remember thinking “no wonder people are miserable when they’re married.” Secretly, though, I was terrified that I was making the biggest mistake of my life. And that is exactly what I did. Nevertheless, we were soon legal. I saw flashing signs warning of potential danger ahead. But I was steadfast in my determination to make it all work.
My belief, at that time, was to just to try and love him. I eventually realized that I would never be able to get that close to him. Soon, though, everything was beginning to make sense. His ever-increasing controlling traits were only getting more aggressive. He would call me names. He would humiliate me away from others until it became overtly obvious. I thought, “Why was seeing it all so foreign? I wouldn’t understand for several years later. The reason that it was so foreign was because I had never seen my daddy treat my mom that way. My daddy is one of respectable men in the community. And I never once saw him disrespect my mom even one time. I was looking for a good man just as he had always been. Not one angry word or action had I ever seen.
He made me do things without my consent. Turn on for him, maybe? I was secretly so miserable. He would rape my mind just like he would my body. He belittled me, stalked me, had total control over what I ate. I felt like it was a prison.I was told that I was stupid so many times I no longer feel as sting when I’m degraded. I bought into all this “perfect” life he was selling. Hook, line and sinker. I soon realized that the safest thing to do was to just do whatever he asked to get through the moment. I had become his emotional punching bag. I was also systematically being pulled away from family and friends. He was going to slowly transform me into his image of “perfection.” And no matter what I did, I would never I couldn’t achieve that unattainable goal. When you’re in a relationship with a narcissist, they see theirselves as “The” God of universe. They never see any need for improvement in any way. Because the only one who needs improvement is you. There was absolutely “zero” concern for both my physical and mental wellbeing.
The initial injury compromised the blood supply to the lower portion of my femur. When I begin to regenerate new bone, it would flake off fragments that needed to be surgically removed to ensure proper functionality. Due to my delay in seeking medical attention, the bony structures continued to shred the cartilage, resulting in further damage to the entire joint. That made him very angry.
There were no words of encouragement or empathy. Just incessant berating for something that I couldn’t control. He wasn’t much of a cuddler either. And after 14 years of abuse, neither was I. If he did there were always ulterior motives. I can vividly recall crying when I was out of his sight, as the pain was so intense. The intensity of crying heightened every situation. Until I learned how not to cry. I was never allowed to take mood stabilizers or antidepressants because “what would people think if they found out that his wife was a head case?” To make matters worse, he would get so angry that he took my pains meds and threw them out into the rain. And I was not allowed to retrieve them. My mom was standing right there and witness it all.
I also experienced severe kidney and bladder infections. I had fevers, hematuria, nausea, and vomiting. It was extremely painful. When he finally took me to an urgent care facility, we were informed that I was at a high risk of developing sepsis. He stated in front of the nurse and doctors, “I told her that she needed to be seen sooner, but she did not want to get checked out.” He then said, “I suppose you won’t do that again next time will you?” I accepted responsibility once more while knowing that the real reason for the delay was because I wasn’t being allowed to get the help.
Things were getting scarier by the day. I was stalked, raped, verbally and mentally abused. I knew how to do one thing that had helped me in the past. Mentally just go to some other place. And let someone else fill in to help with this monumental task. I was made fun of anytime I hurt. I was called a hypochondriac. And eventually I was told that my medical needs were too costly, and that I would just have to learn to deal with the pain. Specifically, I still needed more knee surgeries and procedures for simple wellness. And once again I endured pain in every kind of way you can imagine.
In the end, I lacked self-confidence in myself and was completely shattered mentally. It was fortunate that I left on my own. And I did it and came out alive. The abuse and manipulation I endured over the course of 14 years left me with nothing positive. I realized that I had lost “me” in the process. And I still struggle with my daily life. Let’s just say that relationships are not things that I excel in.
I developed an incredibly high tolerance for pain. However, when I reach my limit, I take a sharp left at a “normal” reaction. My traumatic response is instantaneous. I am very apprehensive about visiting doctors. And it terrifies me to think that I could be berated again.
Maybe life isn’t about avoiding the bruises. Maybe it’s about collecting the scars to prove that we showed up for it.”
-Hannah Brencher
**And as always, don’t forget to watch the video below!**
“Triggers are like little psychic explosions that crash through avoidance and bring the dissociated, avoided trauma suddenly, unexpectedly, back into consciousness.”
-Carolyn Spring
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away! Ready. Set. Blog! Get comfortable because you need to finish reading this one. This took a few days to complete this blog. There is still a considerable amount of raw emotion associated with this topic. Okay, I will continue from where I left off.
When I encountered my next predator, I was 17 years old. He was 36 years old. He was nineteen years my senior. I acknowledge that the entire situation was chaotic at that time. Unfortunately, that chaos became the norm. I realized that I became terrified in the idea that when there was not chaos, I was terrified. I was suddenly thrust headfirst into a harsh adult world for which I was unprepared. It was received like a “turd in the punch bowl.”
Living in a small southern city in the “Bible Belt” region of Mississippi entails a unique set of rules. To put it bluntly, “Being gay should never be regarded as an accepted option.” You are expected to graduate from high school. Attend college. Consider marrying someone of the opposite sex. And to pursue careers while raising children.
I had no idea that my life would drastic 360 degree turn. I would endure a 14-year reign of severe and traumatic terror. What I did not realize as a teenager was that predators can take on various forms, each uniquely individualized. I believed he was my “Prince Charming.” However, every day I looked into the eyes the devil. I entered that relationship with a deep sense of commitment. I was also trying to engage in the “heterosexual game.” And I realized that I was different.
In the beginning, he had been a man with a silver tongue. He said all the right things, leading me to believe that he was a good man who genuinely wanted to love me and build a life together. That was undoubtedly the most misleading revelation of the truth. As he stated, “I was roaming the high schools looking for a wife.” Why did I not find that creepy? Since then, I have asked myself that same question every day thereafter. But what was done, was in fact done.
When I was an athlete, you recognize that pain is an essential component of your training regimen. It is an undeniable reality that managing pain is an inherent aspect of life. You consistently challenge your body in ways you never thought possible. Being in an abusive situation is fundamentally different.
In the four years that we dated, I remember thinking, “Something doesn’t seem right.” I couldn’t identify exactly what “it” was at the time. But I soon realized the harsh reality. I began to realize elements of his likewise traumatic past. Living with a very controlling and abusive father I heard his horror stories. And until his father died, I can tell you that there was some part of him that still feared his father. An interesting fact was that prior to going to visit his father I was directed about how to act. I was so uncomfortable each time. I would watch and listen to how they would interact. And the stories that they both told had a lot of similarities. This was just paranoia, right? No. There were reasons to be paranoid and scared. And I was.
“Your gut knows what’s up, even if your brain doesn’t want to admit it.”-
-Anonymous
**And also don’t forget to watch the video below!”
“Living with chronic pain is like trying to get comfortable on a cactus sofa.”
-Sean Mackey, Professor of Pain Medicine at Stanford
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! Ready. Set. Blog! This is a blog that I’ve needed to write for a really long time. The topic of chronic pain affects every area of my life.
I feel that having both mental and physical pain is too much to ask of a person. I’m not talking about the aches and pains of aging. If that were the type of pain that I experience, I would have no reason to complain. My pain started as a young child with horrific leg pain that would have me in tears. I vividly remember my parents rubbing my legs complimented with a heating pad in order for the tears to stop falling just long enough to fall asleep. And there were no guarantee that I wouldn’t wake up during the night in the same miserable condition. The pediatrician said that the pain was simply “growing pains.” Could this physical pain have been a result of the trauma that I was experiencing? Maybe. Eventually, I would seem to outgrow the leg pains. In the late 1970’s and early 1980’s maybe there were no other answers. And I can accept that. Subconsciously, no one believed me because the depth of my pain couldn’t be seen. However, the mark that was left on the psyche of a small child is one that has left a permanent mental disfigurement.
The next time I remember pain being an issue was as a 13-year-old. The traumatic situations that were occurring left me with horrible headaches. It was at the time that I began having suicidal ideations. The one consistent message coming from my “loud thoughts” was that I wasn’t worthy was unworthy of life. The trauma of that year continues to pound the same messages in my daily life. I just couldn’t see a way out in any direction. It was one agonizing day after another for an entire year. And again, no one believed me. I would also suffer a kneeinjury that I’ve never been about to truly recover from. I’m still dealing with it now in my late forties. When you abuse a child mentally, it’s so easy for them to believe it. To deal with it all, I began “grasping at straws” trying to find 5 minutes of relief. And I did! I found drugs, alcohol, eating disorders and self-harm.
Then I moved into high school. But the previous year continued to torment me. Not only was I caught up in the cycle of addiction, but I was also starting to die from them all. Anyone who says that addiction isn’t painful are lying. It doesn’t matter what type of addiction. It might not seem to hurt in the moment. However, if you are a human being with a conscience, it will hurt at some point. And when it did, I kept using “it” out of guilt and shame. My hopes and dreams were going down the drain. And I had no idea how to make it all stop. I wasn’t my own boss anymore. It was my boss. I would also have another knee surgery, maybe two. And then, I met him…
“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”
“When [Jesus] saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd”.
Matthew 9:36
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Now I’m ready! I thought I could finish writing this later. But No, cigar! Now is as good a time as any other.
I keep coach very up to date with my thoughts and close attention with my “parts.” My main protector has been upset for quite a while. She’s willing to try to derail me in any possible way. So, naturally, I wondered why? Like most teenagers, she has once again, began striking out in fear.
I don’t typically do well with guided imagery. In the past, I’ve gotten tickled and would create some type of comedy. I’m always the one in the room when therapists start with creating a scenario like, “walking into the woods and becoming one with your senses.” What do I see? What do I hear? What do I feel? And then I’m the dufus and speaks up by saying, “It was me that stepped in it! I’m sorry for the smell!” And as if that wasn’t enough I would add this one in just for giggles. “Oh No! It’s a tornado in the distance! It’s coming straight for us! Run!” I know it’s silly. Since working with my coach, I haven’t done anything like that. You begin to realize when you take things in perspective. All I know is that I was tired of constantly trying to run away from things that are much bigger than me.
I settle in and begin breathing while coach guides me to facing the pain. My protector had a death grip on that baby. Vowing to protector her at all cost I thought, “Oh boy! Here we go again.” I’m doing my best to stay focused when I heard, “And just imagine that Jesus is standing there.” I froze while watching the interaction in my mind. Jesus spoke up and said, “Bring me the baby.” The protector surprisingly froze and all the angry words leave as soon as they had appeared. She slowly walked to Jesus and hands him the baby. The angry protector doesn’t say or do anything in protest. And for the first time in my life, the baby is calm and falls asleep on Jesus’s shoulder. The protector takes her cue by turning with Jesus’s hand on her shoulder. She too had a calmness that many have been unable to achieve. And she says only in a way that fits her perfectly, “Don’t worry. Jesus has our back!” Jesus then says, “Go ahead. You’ve been waiting for this your entire life, my child. I will provide all the protection that is needed for all of them and you.” I felt calm and reassured that I was making the right decision.
During, “The Passion Of The Christ” diamond painting project, I was told that he would never leave me. And had left me to help in securing my insecurities. And I remembered that I heard something that was said in an earlier encounter, “Me and the father will give you the strength you need.” And I realized that the gift in this encounter was that No one said that it would be easy. Jesus upheld his promise that he was not abandoning, any part of me, no matter the number. And so me and my parts begin the difficult road of healing the most difficult part of our trauma.
It is through these seven gifts–wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, fortitude, piety, and fear of the Lord–that we grow in holiness and are continually reminded of God’s loving presence within us and around us.”
– John 14:26
***Don’t forget to watch the special two videos on the bottom***
“Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
―C.S. Lewis
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Ok, I’m better. I have become obsessed with diamond painting and how soothing it is for me. And so is writing. I was working on a custom designed painting which was 15 inches x 23 inches. It consists of 40 assorted colors. And it was my first portrait. The design is, by far, the most intricate design pattern I have ever done. I spent close to 80 hours and around 50,000 pieces. I was very skeptical about how it would turn out. And my greatest fear was that I would put all the time and effort into only revealing itself looking like and melted and hammered moon pie. The shading was also nothing that I had experienced. I had already decided that no matter how it turned out, I would keep this one for myself. And from the beginning, it proved itself to be monumental. I had gotten into the mindset that I would pace myself. Taking my time is not usually something with which I can connect. I always want to get everything done in the first 3 hours. There were around 15-20 assorted colors and symbols being used sometimes one after the other. And I had an exceptionally long way to go. So, I decided what the best approach was and turned on the documentaries.
I’ve only shown a couple of people during the progress. I wanted it to be a surprise for everyone who saw it. I would hold it about five feet away so that I could try looking at the shading and definition. I must admit that after about ¼ of the way through I was thinking to myself, “this thing is going to be a disaster.” I kept looking at the full picture on the side of the fabric thinking, “this makes no sense.” Frustrated, I stayed to my plan and tried not to judge. But, rather, I stayed consistent.
Again, I re-evaluated at the end of the day or night. After a couple of days of work, I looked at it again. And it was finally taking shape. At that very moment, I said, “this is going to be epic!” I began noticing a great sadness come over me. And it took me a day or two of sitting with and deciphering what it all meant. The tears began flowing and before long I began understanding my biggest issue. I began sobbing as though I were a child. I pinpointed what I felt was an overwhelming since of despair. I soon realized that it was “the fear of abandonment.” This time it hurt more than I had experienced in quite a long time.
**It’s the glare of the light reflecting.**
When you deal with the effects of a trauma filled life your mind begins, at some point, it begins to purge itself. And it’s usually at the most inopportune times. Tink and Coco always walk in circles and begin meowing when I cry. And while one is always rubbing up against me, the other is pawing at me. I put my diamond tools to the side, and I took a few minutes just to try and figure out what was going on. I begin saying, “why do I always feel alone?” The sweetest and most loving voice speaks, “Look at what’s directly in front of you.” I looked up to see my brown, wooden cabinet with my scrapbooks in it. And, of course, cat tunnels. The level of compassion that I experienced I had never felt before. I love my coach dearly. And she is one of most compassionate people I’ve ever met. This was almost other worldly. And I’ll admit that it scared me initially. I even searched my head mates and asked, “Which one of you said that?” It was not a voice that I recognized. They all just looked at each other and said nothing. I began getting angry because it felt like a joke gone bad. And when you get rebellious teenagers together and they’re silent, it’s remarkably like when a toddler leaves the room and becomes silent. For safety reasons you must go check things out.
Again, I said, “I’m all alone, no matter how many people me are around! Now leave me alone!” The voice said one more time, “look directly in front of you.” I start looking around. And then I saw what the voice was telling me. The diamond painting that I was working on was a picture of Jesus holding onto the cross bloody and beaten after the scourging seen from the movie “The Passion of the Christ.” That was what I had custom made. I was speechless. I had a sense of relaxation that I have never felt. The voice said, “I never left you. And you were worth it.”
I’m still in shock about what I experienced. I felt a sense of safety that through abuse you don’t feel. I’m not a big religious person. I have been on all sides of it. And in many of my experiences with religion have been used as a weapon. But what I felt was not “religion. It was love.
“Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” Hebrews 13:5 (KJV)
“Rescuing one cat won’t change the world but it will change the world for one cat.”
-Unknown
After the death of my sweet little Marley, my aching heart cried out for another cat. I soon brought Coco into my life. But even then, something didn’t sit right with me. I sat with that feeling for about a year stumped me at what it all meant. One day, like a light bulb, it would be revealed that I had a cat shaped hole still in my heart. I thought back to when I had Simba and Nalla and how devasting it was to see and experience the loss while watching the other one go around looking for the missing one and calling her through the meowing. They were littermates and kept each other company when I got busy. I always said that if I ever decided to have cats again, I would make sure and have two. I struggled so hard with the decision because my heart and mind weren’t in complete agreement. Would I, once again, be able to be vulnerable enough to step out and take that chance again? Turns out I did.
Returned to the same veterinary clinic and asked if they had any female kittens that needed a home. I didn’t care about the color or the markings. One of the receptionists said, “I think so.” She called to the back and within minutes a technician brought me the prettiest little calico. When our eyes met instantly I needed her, and she needed me. I was told that her name was Maisie. I said, “Today her name is Tinkerbell (Tink).”
I left the clinic with that sweet baby in my arms. I began to feel the healing of my heart wound. My only concern was how Coco would adjust. They both hissed at one another the rest of the day. By morning they were both peacefully sleeping and seemed to be getting along great. I was told by the clinic that her health was in good shape. But this little girl was walking, crouching and sitting like something was wrong. I panicked thinking, “Please not again!” my heart was beginning to retract. next place I checked was the litter box for anything abnormal other than their regular Tootsie Rolls. There was the most horrid diarrhea that I had ever seen. That was not the sign of a healthy kitty. She would constantly be going back-and-forth to the litterbox. My entire house smelled like I had been cooking a turd casserole. And This went on for a week. I felt so bad for her. She would play and then suddenly curl up into a black, white and orange ball of fur. She had a severe case of intestinal worms. I’m assuming that she had been given dewormer. Gradually, she started getting better.
The girls’ personalities instantly began to blossom. And have been the best of friends ever since. “Tink” has always looked to Coco for guidance on how to be a cat. Some of the instances are quite funny. Just to imagine their “supposed” conversations and I get to have a nice laugh.
Living as a friend, sister, niece, aunt, daughter and mom with a traumatic past isn’t always about being sad or depressed. I try to go through life laughing, as much as possible, when the moment arises. It’s who I am. And it saved my life.
Please continue to read this blog as funny short stories, dialogs, and captions I will post soon.
“In order to write about life first you must live it.”
-Ernest Hemmingway
Ok. This is it! I promise. When those popcorn thoughts hit me, I must try and list them before they disappear. Thank you so much for stopping by. New posts coming soon!
1. Animals are the ultimate beings of compassion.
2. Crying is NOT a weakness. It’s the reality of living in an imperfect world.
3. When you meet people who lovingly stand out from others, they’re priceless gems. Never take for granted that tomorrow they will be there.
4. Religion is for people who are scared to go to hell. Spirituality is for those of us who have already been there.
5. Cellphones were not created to be an appendage.
6. If you knew better, you’d do better.
7. Kids favorite foods are candy, hot dogs, chicken nuggets and boogers.
8. Learn to take care of yourself. Because no one else wants the job.
9. Marijuana is a medication. Not evil deserving a felony. If you miss use, it is
10. Fentanyl could destroy a generation.
11. Harmful stuff happens to everyone. Some more than others. Staying in your hurt pain forever isn’t required.
12. You can learn lessons from daily life that will help to guide you to your future.
13. Don’t discount the little things.
14. Pain is inevitable. Misery is optional.
15. Most people don’t have the capacity, knowledge or want to understand your life or situation. The ones that do, hold them close.
16. Surround yourself with people who reflect positive energy. They’re worth it!
17. Take time to reflect and notice the daily miracles of life. They are right in front of you.
18. Heaven is real. Hell is too. Carefully make your choice.
This Puzzled Life 