Okie dokie. I have a strange story. I’m doing some uncluttering of my room and I make this huge stack of old books that I want to sell on Amazon.com. So I sell one book and the address is really weird, and there’s a number after the name. So I send it off anyway, and it comes back about a week later, and the postal worker isn’t sure why. So I e-mail the person that bought it asking if it was the right address. And here was the reply:
Greetings,
Ms Axxxxxxxx’s address, although rather peculiar, is genuine. She is an inmate in the Texas State prison system. The problem with the book is that the prison censors refused to admit it – probably because it is about Wicca – if it had been a Christian Bible it would have gone through immediately!
Just put the book back into your inventory, and please keep the money as compensation for the inconvenience I have inadvertently caused you.
Best Wishes,
Dxxxxx Kxxx
I was like…. eh? My eye just started twitching when I read that. Great… I’m selling books to prison inmates. The funny thing is though… I’m not into wicca anymore, but… last time I checked, it’s a totally legal religion. So wouldn’t the fact that they don’t allow people to study a legal religion be kind of… I don’t know… illegal? Feh… strange.
Anyway, not really much news besides that. Well, okay, some news, but none I want to talk about. Except you HAVE to read this story Eric wrote. It’s so amazingly, freakishly good. That is all.
Okay, the news I didn’t think was that important? Well, I’ll just talk about it anyway. It’s very long, and kind of personal, but here it is:
It seems to me that there are certain events in my life that are culminating, certain traumatic events. What my stepmom (previous, not current) did to me, the non-existent relationship with my dad, and the Randy breakup thing all seem to happen or I’m reminded of them at the same time. It’s becoming obvious to me that they all must be related.
The stepmom/dad thing isn’t hard to link. I’ve always felt that what happened was just as much my dad’s fault because he chose to turn a blind eye to the whole situation. Well, I can’t really say CHOSE because he probably just refused to believe that anything was wrong because he didn’t want to. So there’s resent there on my part, and stubbornness on his part because he will never admit to me that anything he did was wrong, or even anything Pat, my stepmom, did. The Randy thing is a little harder to connect, but if you believe what I think Freud said first, that male relationships are all affected by the relationship with the father, it becomes more clear. You could even generalize the Randy thing into all male relationships that I’ve had. And once again, it seems like everything is happened or reliving at once.
Back in my last semester at NSU, several things happened. My father and I had an argument, a pretty bad one, Randy told me he was in love with Jennifer, which was very hard, and then the dreams and flashbacks started. I’m not going to describe everything Pat did to me, mostly because I don’t want to relive the memories again, but the main event, the worst thing she ever did, became impossible for me to ignore anymore. When it first happened, when I was eight, I suffered from all kinds of psychological problems. I was terrified of any strangers, and of most people. I was scared to death to go to school and most mornings my mom would have to force me to get on the bus. I suffered post-traumatic stress disorder which turned into panic disorder, which eventually turned into agoraphobia, which is what I currently have today. I had panic attacks usually 30-40 times a day, and because I wanted to forget everything that had happened, my memory went crazy, where I would forget all the most recent things that had happened to me and random long-term memory flashes would just happen uncontrollably. It was a terrible, terrible time and there are days when I look back and can’t believe I made it through so much.
The panic attacks continued, although with every passing year they lessened. By the time I went to college, they were mostly gone, or as much as I could ask for. I would only have about one every two weeks. But something happened that last semester. I don’t know if it was stress, or everything happening at once, or what, but I began to get these flashes of what Pat did to me. And then one day, the whole scene of the worst thing. It was like I was there again, I couldn’t stop the memory, and I remembered things that I’ve never remembered before. It caused a nervous breakdown. I would cry uncontrollably at night, and the fear would take me so much in the daytime that I wouldn’t be able to leave my room. I started having panic attacks every day again, even in my room, which usually, if I’m in a safe place, they don’t happen. And when I did force myself to go outside I was in a state of constant anxiety. That’s the reason I had to drop out. I ended up passing with so-so grades, but looking back, I should have talked to somebody about it, my professers or a couselor or something and they could have helped me. But one thing about anxiety from an event like this, there’s only two or three “safe” people that you can share your fear with. Agoraphobia means being afraid of having a panic attack, so it’s sort of a lose-lose situation, and the main thing about it is you don’t want anyone ELSE to know that you have them. So I hid it from everybody. All my friends just thought I was unhappy.
I went home, and that episode passed although I fell into depression for a long time after that. That’s when I really knew I still had a serious problem. It’s affecting my life in a major way. I keep tricking myself into thinking I have it under control, when the panic attacks have tapered off and I start to feel better, but then I realize, that only happens when I spend my time hiding from the world. I really want to fix this problem but I know it’s going to be really really hard. Which brings me to everything else.
Randy’s visiting. I dreamed about my father last night and how he wanted me to leave his sight. And the panic attacks are starting again. I think it all centers around my father. If I could just fix that… then everything else will fall into place. I think. But the problem is… I have no desire to talk to him. He affects me more than any other living being can. Whenever I try to talk to him about anything remotely deeper than the weather, I always end up crying. And when I think about him now, a nice empty feeling of general objectivity blocks everything. It started when I didn’t call him on Father’s Day. Twice. I know you’re thinking I’m a crappy daughter but I have good reasons. The first time I was stuck at NSU with no car, no long distance so no way to call him, and I believe I did send him an e-card. But he still got mad. The next year (which was this year) I was working all day and meant to call him the next day but I got very busy. I know that’s not really an excuse but if you knew the countless times when I was a child that he promised to do something with me and then was “too busy” you would be a little more understanding. I’m a busy person!! I forget things!! I have to make lists to do my own laundry and pay my bills because I just forget. Like I said, my memory’s shot.
So his birthday is the day after mine. I made SURE that I got him a present and that I was going to call him on his birthday. On my birthday, I didn’t hear anything from him. Well, he’s busy, I think, not really worried about it. So the next day I call and leave a message saying happy birthday and that I got him a present. He never called me back. EVER. To this day I haven’t heard from him. Okay, is it me, or is this a really childish thing to do? I mean, he’s my FATHER. Shouldn’t he look past these things I’ve forgotten and know that I love him? Even if he WASN’T sure, shouldn’t he be the bigger person and call his own daughter to say belated happy birthday? Gee, maybe it’s just me.
Anyway… I wish I knew what to do. I’m thinking I should probably talk to a psychologist… maybe even get Zoloft or something. I bought a book today called The Panic and Anxiety Workbook so hopefully that will help. I don’t know how this situation is going to work out, all these things happening at once again. But maybe if I realize what’s happening while it’s happening, I can avoid the panic and the depression and emerge victorious this time.
Feel free to give me your thoughts, opinions. I love you guys!
