"Tinkerbelle's" Story

[tinkerbelle]

I'm thirty-one. Single. And the mother of three amazing children.

I was married for twelve years--eleven of them being wonderful. Perfect. Fulfilling. I woke up every morning with a smile on my face. I went to bed every night content. Life was good.

Then it all ended. My mind cracked. It couldn't withstand the pressure of perfectionism that ruled my life--perfectionism that I had so carefully, yet unknowingly, developed over the course of my marriage.

Somehow, my mind needed a break. It longed for freedom. And I'm sure I knew it somewhere deep down, but I ignored it. Life was to perfect to alter. So my mind took over.

I ruined my marriage. Lost my husband. My house. My life. My contentment. My happiness.

For a little while, I went wild. Bars. Drinking. Flirting. Dancing. I was high on things that I had never experienced before. Parties. Breakfast at four in the morning with friends at local diners. Incessant text messaging. Karaoke. A social life.

But I wasn't me. When I looked in the mirror--when I looked into my eyes, I didn't know who I was seeing. I'd talk to myself within my own head, but that inner voice was so weak that it had no control over what my body did. I acted on impulse. I felt there were no consequences.

Sometimes, I'd stay up for days. I couldn't eat or sleep. I'd write poetry. Songs. Play guitar or piano. Sing. I'd get involved in rocky relationships, investing my whole heart, only to be left so, so broken. Bitter. Confused. Rejected.

I'd get depressed. I'd cry and cry until no more tears emerged. I had no hope. I was so uncomfortable in my own skin. I couldn't sit still. Something was screaming inside my head. I'd keep myself busy. Drive to the store. Shop for things I didn't need. Drive to the park. Text while the kids played. Visit friends. Talk on the phone. Write more poems. Started a journal.

I became numb. Couldn't feel. Hear. Truly see. It was like I was watching my life through a window. I could see the wind blow, but I couldn't experience it. I was somehow detatched. I wondered if I was even alive, for I had never felt such nothingness before. No love. No sadness. No happiness. No anger.

I went about my life. I cared for my kids just as I always had. But it was robotic. I didn't feel what I was doing. I simply went through the motions that my mind remembered. I'd pay bills. I'd check the mail. I'd feed the pets. The kids.

Then I'd forget. Or I'd lose time. I'd go to the basement to put in a load of laundry. Two hours would pass. I don't know how. It was like I was in a time warp. I'd sit down to write a poem, and suddenly the sun was rising. Where did the night go? I never slept. It was unreal.

I'd look in the mirror every day, wondering who that was looking back at me. Was I possessed? What happened to that modestly dressed woman? She had turned into this sexy girl with seductive lips and bedroom eyes.

One day, while reading my journal, my memories began to connect. Up until that point, they were separate. I didn't remember that I had bills to pay when I was cooking dinner. I had to set an alarm to remember to pick my daughter up from school because I never seemed to know that I had to. But at that moment, I remembered. Bars. Friends. My P.O. box. My new bank account.

I cried. I felt again. Sorrow. But I felt. I looked at my hands and touched my fingers together. I could feel. I ran upstairs, eager to see my sleeping children. The house looked different, like I had been on vacation for some time. My children looked older, and all of that love that I used to feel came flooding back to me. I cried and cried. I hugged and kissed them. I wanted to wake them up so badly because I worried that my mind may go again.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked older. Worn out. Dead tired. Skinny. But I saw me in my eyes. I smiled and cried and jumped up and down. It was me. I wanted to hurry up and do everything in case I lost me again. I wanted to go to the beach. Celebrate Christmas. Eat chocolate. Anything. Everything.

The next morning, I was gone again.

I'd go back and forth for the next few months. At some moments, I'd suddenly be alive and aware. The kids and I would put on music and dance and sing together. I'd hug them. I'd swing them around. I'd say "Mommy's back." And they knew what I meant. Then I'd be gone.

I went for help. Saw a psychiatrist. A therapist. Never took the meds. I wanted to get better on my own. I was Bipolar. I was going through Depersonalization Disorder. The cause was Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Too much bad had happened in my life. Rough childhood. Miscarriages. Near death myself. I somehow never dealt--I never healed. So my mind took a vacation. It took me back to my teenaged years, for in my mind, I remembered those years as the best--the most carefree. I was powerless to stop what happened.

One day, about a year after the onset of everything I had gone through--maybe even a year exactly, I woke up for good. No mania. No depression. No Depersonalization. I was me. And I was shocked and devastated at what I had done to my life. I ruined everything. I had no control over it, yet I had to pay the price. It seemed so unfair--like awaking from a coma and everything had changed.

I tried to explain to people--to anybody who would listen. Nobody understood. I looked like the bad guy. I looked like the stupid woman who left her perfect life to pursue being single and free. But that wasn't the case at all. Nobody understands the truth, except for my therapist. But not even she really understands what an impact this had on my life--and how severe my mental break was. Nobody does.

Now, over a year later, I'm a single mom of three kids. I love them wholeheartedly, and they are the center of my world. Mentally, I'm fine. I'm me. But emotionally, I'm crushed. I don't know how to get over what happened. I don't know how to accept that people will never know the truth--they will never understand what happened and I will forever be labeled as the bad guy.

I lost everybody except for my children through all of this. My husband. His family--who was my family. Part of my own family. Our mutual friends. Our church family. Nearly everybody.

I've never liked being alone. I mean, some time alone is fine. I'm talking about relationship-wise. I loved being a wife. I'm again longing for that companionship again. More than anything, I just wish I had one person who understood me.

[Mich]

Tinkerbelle - thank you for sharing your story. I understand the devastation that mental illness can have on one's life and I am sorry that those around you do not. I am glad you "are back" now and I hope that you are able to heal over time. I'm sure it will not be easy but there are many here who will support and care for you.

[sauer_kraut]

((((Tink)))))

I can relate to you quite a bit about how the downhill slide can be. I was happy and "normal" and then stuff hit the fan. All the years of constant "hidden" trauma came clearer to me. That was because I was not "supposed" to remember the traumas. I knew my parents fought, and I knew I was harassed in school a lot but there was no memories of being affected by it. Now I sit with a dx of DID.

Dissociation disorders are pretty nasty. Bipolar makes them worse. I am also bipolar.

[shatteredhopes]

((((((((((((tink)))))))))))) i know well how supressed trauma can make us act out in ways that seem strange or inappropriate to others...until we deal with the root causes, i think it becomes manifest in so many unhealthy ways, at least it always did for me.

But you have three beautiful children, so you are not alone. You are young and will likely find a mate again someday, but meanwhile maybe take this time to focus on healing and working on yourself. I did after my divorce for many years and although at times was lonely and longed for a mate, for the most part I am glad i turned down interest of men and focused on myself first and working on myself as a human being. And you know what? For the first time in my adult life at about 40, i knew two years of happiness, peace, contentment within myself. I was rarely lonely as I had close friends with whom i could share initimate conversations from deep in my soul, and felt closer to them than any mate or boyfriend I'd ever had.

You have many people on this site who care about you and are rooting for you. Glad to see you posting in the forums too. Helps me to sometimes post more indepth and get more indepth feedback.

Do you still write poetry? I have a poetry site i can suggest to you next time i see you in the chatroom maybe we can pm and I can suggest how you can publish on line if you are interested. I stopped going there because my ex is on there, but its a good site.

Good that you have creative outlets and can be fully there for the kids now. Don't worry so much about all those who judge, they haven't lived in your skin and what you lived through and experienced in your mind. Ever heard the saying that those who point the finger have all the rest of their fingers pointing back at themselves? Often people who judge have something defective or wrong or unsatisfied within themselves that makes them exalt themselves by bringing another down, and is more a reflection of their character than the one they are judging...

Wishing you peace and light inyour day Tink....please take some time for yourself...especially just coming out of a relationship...to figure out what you really want and to find some healing and happiness on your own...that's what I would suggest, and I am doing post break-up again, ban on dating for me, just going take time to heal my heart and hopefully my mind and find a life worth living again on my own. Then maybe I will be ready for something healthy, and if not, I'll be okay on my own

[tinkerbelle]

Hey. I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for taking the time to not only ready my post, but reply as well. It really means a lot to me.