Anxiety is a beast. It is something I live with every single day. When I wake up in the morning I can already feel my anxiety starting. I can wake up to a beautiful day, but my head is telling me that there is something wrong. I tend to bit my husbands head off for no reason, except for the fact that I am on edge. My husband has ADD and anyone who has been around others with ADD knows that it takes patience sometimes. Something that I taught myself years ago is that, even when I am having a bad day, no one else deserves to be treated poorly because I am not in a good mood. It has taken a lot of practice, but I try to better myself each day. My husband and I feed off of each other which can be a good thing, but at the same time, it can be a bad thing. When we’re having a rough day, we trigger each other and it normally just gets worse from there. At the same time, when these days happen we are pretty quick to realize where we have gone wrong and we apologize to each other. Being in a relationship when both people have issues with their emotions it takes a lot of respect and dedication. Most of all you need to realize when you have made a mistake and be respectful enough to apologize.

I realized sometime after I had our son that my depression and anxiety just was not normal. Even though I have been medicated for almost 11 years off and on my symptoms were still out of control. Now I am on better medication and I am going to therapy. It is funny, but my therapist has only met me twice and she said I have a huge problem of putting myself last. I don’t know how to make myself first, but I will continue to work on it because I know that is something my son needs and so does my husband.

I know that this blog is a bit of a ramble, but I guess that is just what I needed today. That is me focusing on me. I hope everyone has a blessed day!


Hello Friends :)

I have been sick for a few day, but I thought I would catch everyone up on my life at the moment.

This morning I woke up and decided to try to fix my blog. I have been told by several people that my grammar could use some tidying up. I kind of knew I needed to, so I set off to attempt to fix that situation and somehow I deleted my whole blog. So, I took the time to fix the grammar and punctuation issues. I am quite pleased with how everything turned out. Now I have a childhood blog and I also have a dailyish blog. I would love to write every day, but that would take away time from my son and I started this in hopes of being a hobby.

I tried reaching out to more family in the past few days and it has been successful in some ways, but in other ways, it has not panned out. I have now connected with a family member I didn’t know. It has been refreshing to get to know someone that you are related to and they welcome you in such a warm way. I also tried to reach out to other parts of my family so I can find out where I came from and our families history. So far, out of all the family online only one person is planning on sitting down with me and telling me all that they know. I know that I come from a family of immigrants from Europe.

I also spent some time looking up the missing history of Jill. I called the courthouse and explained who I was and what I wanted to obtain. Unfortunately, they are only allowed to tell me so much which is just about the same information I can find online. So, she told me that I will have to petition the court to open the records for me. I have no idea how to do it, but my best friend is going to help me walk through the process. She is my backbone when it comes to facing my past. I don’t think I could ever thank her enough for listening to my ramblings.

I am officially two weeks down on my new medications and I think they are helping a lot more than just the few that I was on. I definitely think there can be a lot of improvement can be made. I have another appointment in April so we shall see. I also went to therapy last week and I have high hopes that she will finally be the one who helps me through my thoughts and fears.

Well, I am gonna have to cut this short today my son is terrorizing my living room.


I’ve heard from a lot of people who think I should be over what I’ve gone through, but the reality is that I am over it but my body is not. I wake up every morning with panic in my stomach and there be no reason for panic. All day I feel on edge and yes I do take medication. It is not something I enjoy. I honestly wonder most days why my husband hasn’t walked away from my constant state of sadness. He’s such a good man and I’m a very lucky woman to have someone so devoted to me. When we took our vows to love each other no matter what life threw at us, is something we both take very seriously. We’ve seen great times and we’ve been through bad times as well. We don’t sweat the small stuff and we work through the hard stuff.

I know a lot of my problems stem from my childhood and I’ve only written about one section of my childhood. There will be more and hopefully, that will make things more clear for those who are following my blog. If you read just this one it will probably come off as a whining adult. I’m hoping to get out everything and open memories I didn’t know were there. There are chunks of my life that feel like a story that has been told to me.

This is one reason I am writing this blog so just maybe others who are like me will understand that they are not alone. I am a mother and wife, but most days I feel like a failure. I don’t like to interact with people I don’t know which in turns means I keep to myself and I stay indoors. I love the days that my husband is off because with him by my side I feel confident and unafraid of the people around me.  My son is thriving and my husband tells me all the time how proud he is of me. I have so much to be happy about. I thought for almost ten years that I would never have a child even though it was one of my only dreams as a child, to have a family who loved me as much as I loved them.

The fact is that I am broken. I am a child without parents. Even though I was never left in foster care I feel as though I have been. I’ve raised myself since as long as I can remember. I would do anything to have that feeling of having parents. I thought having my own family would fix what is broken, and in some ways it has, but in others, it has not. Some days I feel better about it then there are days like today I feel like I’m in a hole begging my parents to hear me, but they don’t. Most of my family is all in the united states and we’re not close. I wish it was very different, but I don’t know how to bridge the connection that has been broken. I did marry into a wonderful family and I feel beyond blessed my son won’t feel the disconnect that I have my whole life. I don’t put blame on anyone except my father and the reason why is because he “raised” us most of our lives. He always had something negative to say about both sides of my family. How everyone just didn’t like him and he didn’t know why. As I got old I understood why so many of his family members had chosen to keep themselves away from him. His actions not only hurt him they hurt his family. He didn’t care that we grew up without family or the fact he was always moving us around like we were nomads with no permanent home.

This blog is more for me than anyone else. I need to get these things out of my head. Maybe it’s not just to help others, but also help myself. I’ve heard writing is very therapeutic so maybe this might help and maybe it won’t, but I might as well give it a try. I don’t want sympathy I honestly can’t stand it. I want to be better understood. I know that is a lot to ask for especially since I don’t understand myself. I’m actually for the first time in my life taking real strides to help me figure out what is medically wrong with my head and am trying to fix it. I’m hoping if I can do that I can go to therapy and learn to cope with everything the goes through my head. The last thing I want is to raise my son to see my unhealthy mental state and actions. No, I do not-self harm and I am not suicidal. I feel like I constantly have to let people know that. I’m just anxious, stressed, frustrated, overwhelmed, sad, depressed and lonely.

Five years ago I was severely overweight and I thought that most my anxiety and depression was caused by my weight. I thought it was my weight that made me afraid of people, but I have lost most of the weight and I’m definitely not self-conscious about my looks anymore. Now I feel like when people see me they see everything that going through my head. Not to mention I am socially awkward I have tried to make connections with people, but I just do not do well with attempting conversations with people and it just feels so awkward. I do not want to stick myself in this bubble for the rest of my life. I lost the weight so I would not be sitting on the sidelines of life and here I am limiting myself because I am afraid of people.

I appreciate it if you have made it this far. At first, when I started writing this blog I thought I would be just writing about my past, but I don’t think that will help me or anyone else who are looking for answers. I need to get out my past, present and hopefully figure out how to make a brighter future. I want to see myself the way my husband and son do. They don’t deserve to see their wife and mother so sad all the time. I grew up seeing my father always looking sad and lost. I do not want that for my family.


So I have battled depression and anxiety for a very long time. It is not something that is new to me and frankly, I am sick of it. I hate waking up and feeling like something is about to happen. I have been on so many medications to try to help the symptoms that I have.

After I had my son I was elated! He was all that I had ever wanted and I finally had him. I still am beyond stoked that I get to be his mom. Even when he’s crawling all over me while I write this blog and the bag of chips that his dad gave him is now crushed into my carpet. Hey, that’s what having children is all about. But I noticed that not too long after I had him that I started to feel the anxiety and depression so much worse than I had before. I think having him made my face to the reality of my childhood and my relationships with my family. It also made me realize that he needed me and I needed to be in control of everything about him. Who watches him, how people interact with him, who I could trust to be alone with him and most of all that people treated him like family. It is something I obsess over every day and I know it is because of my childhood. I know that I can not protect him from everything, but I am going to protect him from the important things. I use to think I would be a horrible parent even though everyone around me thought I would be a good mother. I even still have some who let me know when I am going overboard. I’d put him in a bubble if I knew it would protect him from everything. But I know things will happen and I’m ok with that I just don’t want something to happen because I was negligent in some form or another. I am very aware of how much pressure I am putting on myself. But that is the point of my writing. So I can tell my side of life and my past and try to become a better person and hopefully in the process help anyone else who comes across this.

I started receiving medication for my depression and anxiety when I was about 17 years old. Every time I would start a new medication I would have hopes that it would make me feel like a functioning human and not this drain on society that I see myself being. I have hurt some of the closest people to me because of my mental state and how unstable I have been in the past. I know that most of them have forgiven me, but I have yet to forgive myself. I was not the person I was when I acted like I did when I was a young adult. I didn’t realize I had some serious issues going on and that I needed to see a professional. I blocked it out because I didn’t want to be that “statistic”. An abused child that is completely missed and broken that couldn’t be fixed. I have tried my best not to become what society has said becomes of children from broken and abused homes. So far I feel like I am doing a good job, despite the fact that I can’t interact with people the way I would like to.

About 2 months ago when I was put on a benzodiazepine and my symptoms were still in full swing I decided to open up to my primary. I have gone to her for five years and me never once told her the extent of my depression and anxiety. She had no idea that I had been abused as a child, molested, raped and lost a baby. A lot of it I had just kept to myself. When I told her some of my past and that I was not getting any better she suggested I go see a specialist to find out exactly what I was going through.

I went to the specialist about a week ago. Normally the first visit is a half hour. I was in her office for two hours. Just spilling my guts because I am so tired of holding it all in. I needed someone who could understand and not judge me know what was going on. I have never felt more understood than when I was talking with her. I told her all the symptoms I have and all the failed medications that I had been on. That is when she told me I had PTSD and Bipolar I. I was pretty sure for a long time that I had PTSD, but the bipolar hit me like a load of bricks. I didn’t know anything about it and the people I know who have it are almost unbearable people to be around. So I automatically turned myself into a self-hatred person. I have come around to it and realize that those people are not me and how they deal with their disease is not the way I deal with mine.

Just as I have tried my best not to allow my past define who I am, I am not going to allow my mental illness to define who I am. I am a loving person, a devoted wife, and mother and I plan to stay that way. I will be here for my family if they need me. I think I am going to close for today. Thank you for listening.

*I am far from a writing lol so if my writing is not the best I am sorry. Hopefully, I can work out the kinks. :)*