Really struggling

I am open to going back to therapy and even told my husband this last week that I may need to start again. Finding my Aunt Vickie online after all these years has turned my emotions upside down. I got so angry last night while ansering her email. Just going back thru the death of my mom and the issues growing up opens everything like it is a festering wound.

I got into nursing because I am good at helping people. No matter what craizness I get thrown into with a family I handle it without much trouble. I guess their are perks to going through so much as a kid. Not much that I come across I haven't been through before. We were abused sexually, mentally, physically and psychologically as children. In many ways it has made me an excellent nurse. I don't judge my patients or their families. I can meet them on their level and walk them through the dying process so they can find closure. I think the biggest reason I do hospice is that I can not bear to think of someone dying alone... waiting for someone to come and they never show up. Sometimes we are their only family at the end.

When we were abandoned as kids my mom had tried to commit suicide and they put her in a mental hospital for several months. We ranged from jr high to high school and I remember my great uncle and the priest coming to the house to tell us what happened. And most importantly not to tell anyone..to just go to school as if nothing was wrong. I had my bags packed for 3 weeks so I would be ready for whenever someone showed up to take us home with them. I didn't want to be a problem by making them wait for me to get my stuff. I remember thinking it would be embarassing when THEY showed up because they would know about our crazy mom. No understand that i had 3 sets of aunts and uncles living, my dad, our godparents and one set of grandparents. No one came. After 3 weeks I put my things away and continued to go to school.

Mom was in the hospital for quite a while and I had to take my report card to the hospital for her to sign so I could take it back to school. Her writing was terrible and I remember thinking someone will notice and ask me about it and I will have to tell. No one asked. Into her 2nd or 3rd month there I would drive to visit her and I took my little brother. On the way back home I stopped at the store for some sugar and ran into that great uncle who had originally told me to not tell anyone. He jumped all over me for being irresponsible for wasting gas to visit my mom and spending money on 5 lbs of sugar. I was furious but didn't say anthing.

Who in the HELL did he think he was calling me irresponsible. I was a teenager, getting her 3 brothers up for school and cooking all the meals, maintaining a 3.5 GPA while NOT telling anyone our dark secret. I told my first therapist that I knew she told us she didn't love us but she was all we had. She may have been crazy but I knew no one else was coming for us ... so yes I went to visit her. I was desperate for her to get better and come home. Seeing my Aunt has opened this up like it is fresh again. I have found myself fighting tears.

When I was growing up I never showed anger... and lately I feel so angry and hurt that I feel out of control. My mom died last Sept and I stayed and cared for her then setting up all the funeral stuff. At least my little brother 1/2 the exprenses with me. My uncle Ed that was married to this aunt I just found was the one who got my brothers smoing pot in elementary school then when my mom was on her death bed he refused to talk to her. I am so angry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One of my fellow nurses told me I was still mourning the loss of every getting my mom back to the way she was before she was mentally ill and so mean to us. I guess I always held out hope that she would love us again. Mental illness is so cruel - not only to the pt but to the loved ones as well. We all suffered with her. And our child brains could not process the complexities of her illness and we couldn't filter her madness and harsh words.

If I was counseling a family that told me all this I would encourage therapy and I would pray they would not be so hard on themselves. To seek healing and forgiveness... for themselves and their family. I would educ them on mental illness and tell them that no one chooses to be a paranoid schizophrenic - that it is a chemical imbalance in their brain and they couldn't help it. And that a child is never responsible for the sexual abuse that happens to them. I know the shame that goes with that. I have come to realize that although I may not have invited that abuse but your body will respond to sexual stimulation and then they have you ... cause they make you feel responsible for it.

I was never going to have children because I never felt I had the tools for it. I was also terrified - what if I became an abuser myself. My therapist told me that since I acknowledged that possibility and even had fears of it that it made her feel safe that I would never do it to a child. The majority of sexual abuse victims become protectors not offenders. But at 23 I gave birth to a son and he has been a blessing. He is the kindest, sweetest young man you could ever hope for. He is smart and witty and so handsome... he is a slob but if that is all I can complain about - I hit the lottery with him. I told him later that all I knew going into this was what not to do. Now I made mistakes... and he is a slob because I did way too much for him... I think I did that because I had so much responsibility growing up.

Thanks for allowing me to ramble on for so long... it has been a really tough day.
Deb