knogz said:
isabeau you truely are strong person. It was my honor to get to know you alittle bit through your post.
Kis I'd also like to hear from you some more. I want to make sure I fully understand you and that you fully understand me aswell.
I thought I had wrapped up my thoughts earlier, but here it goes.......
I've told my story many times and it goes something like this:
I had two messed up people for parents! My mother was clinically depressed and just couldn't seem to fight her way out of it until shortly before she died. Remember, in my mom's generation, depression wasn't something anyone discussed, so it didn't exist. It was the elephant in the living room of our lives. It got worse after one of my sisters died from cancer before I was born. My mother managed to tell me one day that if birth control was better back then, me and my youngest sister wouldn't be here. So I subscribe to the theory that "it don't matter how you got here, just be glad you're here!" My father was the typical alcoholic autocratic dictator of his time. His favorite line was "when I'm right, I'm right!! When I'm wrong, I'm right!" In other words, you were basically dammed if you did or didn't! I was just visiting one of my sisters recently (actually a stepsister, but we've gotten very close). She told me we weren't raised with love, and look how we managed to raise our children?? They don't know how good they have it! And she's right!
The minute I turned 18, I was off to the races. I had my oldest child with a drug addict turned dealer who left before my kid was 2. I met the man I married shortly afterwords and he became a real father to my kid. We stayed together 10 years, and split-but they are still very close and still dad and son. My daughter is now 15 and lives with him because the school system is crappy in my city-I wouldn't want to train a dog in it! I've been criticized about releasing my daughter to live with him. I cried nearly six months afterwards. Shortly beforehand, I had to let my son go to live in a group home because he simply couldn't help his behavior and I had run out of pride and hopes of doing it myself (for the few people on the earth who may not know, my son's autistic). So, in 2002 I was alone, childless, jobless, and feeling pretty hopeless.
When I got tired of crying, drinking myself to sleep, and self-pitying myself to death a thought came to mind: "What am I going to do with all of this free time on my hands?" What I was doing was getting really old really quick! I got off my big behind, found a job (actually several jobs) and went back to school. I got my bachelors degree in business management in December 04. I went on a job interview the next day only to find out that one of the people who subsequently hired me was the daughter-in-law of my professor. I was hired in January, and here I am.
One of the main things that has kept my sanity over the last two+ years has been the TMF that I bumped into by sheer coincidence and circumstance. I've been here ever since. I've seen many come and go, and I've formed seemingly unbreakable bonds with many of you.
It's been a wild ride and I have no intention of ever stopping prior to my leaving this world. Do I get depressed? Sure-it is genetic in my family and I will deal with it from time to time. Do I feel hopeless-sure I do! I'm a late bloomer (my son just turned 20) and I have a lot to catch up. Will I ever quit? Yeah-right after I die!!!!
Knogz, I was one of the people you opened this thread with. I didn't want to take responsibility for my own life. It was easier to blame depressed mom and alcoholic loveless dad for all of my troubles. The fact of the matter is that I was eating the fruit of my decision making and it was incredibly bitter! I'm not that way anymore. I take life as it comes and sometimes it really sucks! I refuse to get into toxic relationships in the name of having someone in my life and bed. Boy, did it ever take me a long time to learn that one!! I'd rather be by myself with my cats and my kids on the weekends than to exchange my independent spirit for some close-minded jerk who gets intimidated by me and my independence.
Well, I've ranted on enough. The bottom line is if you're still breathing, you can get up no matter how far you've fallen. I'm a late bloomer, but better late than never!
