We need a foundation to help those in need so these tragedies don't keep happening.
-- This tragedy was hard and I ache for the family and friends who are going through this.
Somehow I gathered the courage, and decided I needed to share this with others in hopes they learn something from me. I'm an Atheist I belief in fate, and I believe if you have the right people in your life at the right time you can keep a spark of hope alive, even in the darkest moments of our lives. I also believe people are put on my path on my journey to learn from each other.
I had been trying for a couple years to find the Doctor that would listen to me and not brush me off as I was at the last clinic I was treated at. Finally I found her as Swedish Hospital in Seattle. By the end of the first appointment my gut told me I could trust her. I made another one so I could tell her what I needed. I was so tired of the roller coaster I had been on. She took an 1.5 hours listening to my story, taking my history, and testing to find the right diagnoses, I had Bipolar. Because I was manic at the time she wanted to get my on medicine right away. Then she referred me to a mental health facility called Navos. A Phsyciatrist confirmed my Bipolar. Now I have a great team of Doctor's and a therapist I can count on. I go for regular therapy to talk about the tramatic events in my life.
From 5-18. to years I was Physically, verbally abused by my Schizophrenic father. Sexually abused by an Uncle, and some of my fathers friends, both male and female. I had 3 sisters and a brother. I lost my big sister to suicide 8 years ago. I lost my Mom at 12 to a car wreck by a drunk on the job semi-driver. The first 12 years of my life I had my Mom and two teachers who believed and encouraged me. I have an above average IQ, and an artistic talent passed on from my Mom. I started school out with A's, I could read book after book finishing before anoyne else. Most teachers didn't believe me, even after I answered every question they asked me about the books. I finally gave up trying to convince teachers after they verbally and physically abuse me, sometimes in front of the whole class. Those were my first 7 years of school The two that did belive in me would treat me in a way that made me a target from bullies, whether jealousy or their environment where they were raised, it didn't matter to me at the time. I could only react the only way I knew how. Depending on my manic/depressiona scale I either fought back giving as good as I got, or ran and hid.
It went down from there, but after 7 years the beatings stopped, by then I didn't care about school or anything else. I stopped talking unless I needed to, or in a manicc episode when I couldn't stop talking. After Mom died Dad moved us from the small town to the huge city of Minneapolis Were were homeless for awhile, living under a bridge nor far from the projects. A place they called Little Town. Pedophiles, gangs were everywhere. My big sister stayed with us awhile, until she was gang raped. Then she went back to California to stay with our Grandmother. It was then up to me to watch out for my sistes and brother.
We shop lifted for food, and clothes, skipped most of the year, I don't recall seeing my Dad much. I don't know where he went. Most of our childhood he was a absentee father, even when Mom was alive. Sometimes he would break us up and put us with friends of his. I guess you could call it foster care without proper placement. Then when he got the money settlement form Mom's death he bought land and moved us to a reservation in Montana. We slept in a canvas tent, had cooked in a canvas tent made up like a kitchen, except no running water or heat. We helped him build our house. As usual he had big plans, and it was going to be the house of our dreams. Then he ran out of money, so all we had was a framed house, some insulation, but the floors and walls were cement. The windows were plastic. No indoor plumbing, not even an outhouse. Needless to say bathroom trips were beyond surreal. By the time I graduated High School I had a 2.0.
Fast forward to the present. I've felt better then ever, what "normal" joy & happiness feels like without drugs or alcohol.It still is taking time to get used to it. Though I do understnad why people want to stop their medication, but I know what it's like without and I don't ever want to go back to those extremes. I've feel in love in January of 1997. We've been together 15 years. How many partners stick with someone who has a mental illness. My partner went through those highs and lows with me, and if that isn't unconditional love, I don't know what is. My love of learning has returned, and I read about everyting. I love history, science, biology and so much more. My mind is like a spunge. My interst in art, writing and photography has taken front and center after a lifetime of pain. But I always had a hope, even when it was just a grain. I came close to snapping several times, but my conscience always reminds me that hurting anyone else isn't going to take away my pain. It'll only make more victims. I survived for so long it's now my time to thrive. I live in the moment as much as I can. How can we strive to better, and happier if we weren't reminded from time to time of how precious life is.
We need to better help those that need it before they snap. Our prisons and the mental health facilities are overwhelmed. If we help them now we are also helping to save those lives that are innocent. I plan be one of those, in the meantime it's my turn to make my dreams come true.