5th June 2019, Trial #1 – “Working on Us” Mental Health Prompts

Beckie, over at Beckie’s Mental Mess, is starting on a new prompt series called, Working on Us.

For today’s prompts, there are two prompts which you can either just do one, or both. For details of these prompts and how to play along, please do see todays post at: https://beckiesmentalmess.blog/2019/06/05/june-5-2019-trial-1-working-on-us-mental-health-prompts/

I have decided to do just one of these prompts and so I have chosen prompt #1 – Question:

When you first found out that you had a mental illness/disorder. Explain how this new revelation regarding your health affected you?

My mental health is depression and anxiety.
Depression has been the main symptom, because anxiety came second. But anxiety over the years has proved to be an issue at times, as my depression.

I wouldn’t say it has been a new revelation for me, because I always knew it was there, or not quite right. I just never did anything about it, because as I did as a teenager, I just soildered on and as a teenager, I wouldn’t have been aware about how my own mental health was in general then, even though I seen the trials of my mum’s mental health.
I was a person who got my head down, hoping to get through each difficult day. My long standing readers will know about my childhood difficulties. But for those that are new, then click on childhood in the tags section of my blog, because explaining it here would make it a very long post.

Fast forward after divorce, my mental health went down more and I felt I wasn’t coping. I referred myself to counseling, for the rape and about that relationship in general, which mum supported me on, by coming down on the bus with me and waiting in the waiting area, while I had my counseling. The counseling helped for that time then.

Another moment in time later, which then I was in a relationship. (The relationship that never went anywhere and what turned out to be a shocking later, that I discovered by accident some years later after having nothing to do with him.) During some point in those first two years I think it was now, one night, in my own bed, which I was on my own, I had a flashback of the time I was raped in my first relationship. It felt so real. When I woken up, I found myself in the same position, so god knows if I had been crying out in my dreams. It was real enough in my dreams, but to wake up and find myself like that, made it more sickening. I was hugely triggered and traumatised all over again.
Further counseling at a rape crisis centre, with the support then of the boyfriend I was with. This counseling went into areas of conversation that was not covered in my counseling elsewhere I had the first time round on this area of my life. I can’t remember if I was on medication then. I don’t think I was. But the counseling really helped, for that time.

Then in another area of my life, (before the above flashback) while still in this relationship, had issues with neighbours, while in a council property. The stress of it all brought me to a new time low. I lost a lot of weight with it. At this point, I was on antidepressants and I was scared to take them I remember. But the doctor reassured me of my concerns. My then boyfriend, supported me in that appointment, in case there were things that needed repeating later, with things being a blur and numb. I wasn’t long in getting a private property and this is how I ended up in private properties ever since. I can’t remember how long I was on antidepressants, as some of that time is now a blur.

The last time I was on antidepressants, were at a time I blogged about here. That was when my old workplace broke me that much, that I could take no more. I was depressed and I was having lots of panic attacks. God knows how I still managed to keep going to work. I was that messed up, I really shouldn’t have been there. But I kept doing my shifts and doing what I automatically seem to do as a child.
I also had counseling, which towards the end delved in my childhood. I was having triggers when going into this area and because NHS counseling only lasts so long and because of the nature from childhood, it had to be treaded carefully. This counsellor said because if what I seen as a child and the other things in regards with what dad was like, that I likely to have PTSD. To hear this being said to me shocked me, even though it made sense.

I was on antidepressants longer than the doctor would have liked. This was because I did not want to start weaning off then when I was having driving lessons. Then when I did not do anymore, because I couldn’t deal with it any further, plus I had a double-death in the family; my cousin and her husband.
Then, as you know, followed by discovering the true horrors of the ex-boyfriend and finding out what he truly was by accident in a Google search not related to him, there was no way I could think of reducing my antidepressants. So antidepressants were reduced some months later, even though it was still a difficult time.

Present day, I can still feel lows at times. But I am feeling particularly low since my first day in new job. But I remain medication free, since I last came off them, as mentioned above.

I take each day as it comes. With the now stresses I have had since living here, that you know about and being more of a carer for my mum than I ever been, lists are becoming more my friend, because since February, I am finding myself more forgetful then ever before. I have used a diary for years, but a list is in addition to my diary.
If I have a lot to think about in a day, then a list is created and placed on my coffee table. I will also take the list with me, if required.

I hope this post gives an idea, as it has been very hard to write this one. Not because of the topic, as this is now easy with the counseling and support I have had over the years. It’s just a bit grey in areas, as I forget things and I found just writing this post, in how best to get my words down. So feeling brain tired, is probably the best way to put it.

Thank you for reading, if you got to the end of this post.

I don’t give a …

Content warning: swearing and the mention of child abuse, but details in old post links, from this post.

My long-standing readers may have noticed that I have started saying the names of areas where I have been on my blog. This is now because basically I don’t give a fuck. If it turned out a particular ex hoped to track down where I live and make personal contact with me, then he will​ in a lot of trouble and have more to worry about. I would scream and shout out, to let those nearby that they have a child abuser about.

To remind readers old and new, an ex I broke up with some years ago, because after 6 years he could not commit and gave me the same fucking answers, when I asked when he moved in. I knew what I wanted the last four years of that relationship, but I waited patiently the last two. He wanted me to hang on for another year, but I wasn’t having that and I called it off for a year, saying to him that during that time, I would not get back with him.
During that time, he had to think about what he really wanted and to be honest with himself, as well as being honest with me. I wasn’t going to promise him if I would get back with him after our break, but I definitely would not be with him before.
In the end, I chose not to get back with him, but he wanted to remain friends and so did I. But he soon failed on that one within months and he knew it, with how his last text came across to me, which I chose to ignore. A friend said expect another before he gives up, but I said I would be surprised if I got another, because he knows he has blown it. I was done.
I was right, I heard nothing more from him.

Fast forward some years later and by pure accident while researching something, he came up in the Google search. It was just a photo I seen at first. I did not even observe the writing that came with it. I was staring at the photo, because it was obviously a recent photo since I last seen him. He looked quite different, so I was questioning if it was really him. I knew that because of background and how he looked, that it was a police photo. After clicking on the link to read more, my life changed and so for my family.
When I split up with him all those years ago, I was disappointed in him. My family felt the same.
But when I read what he had done, I was distraught and sick to the core. I fucking hate him and I hope he rots. How I felt even further are described in related post links below, as I really don’t want to repeat it here, even though I feel sick just writing this,at this point.

I kept places where I live, or where I go private, so that I don’t give him a chance to find me. This was to protect me, because of how greatly I was first affected and how I am still affected. If I bumped into him, wherever he ends up, after he is released, if he survives jail, I do not want to bump into him. I know I will be hugely triggered, because of what he done to that child, which during all the time we were together, this had already possibly happened. All I know, is from what I read and this happened some time in the same year I went out with him. I started going out with him at the end of that year. But if it happened before I went with him, I still knew him as a friend. Or I thought I knew him. As I have mentioned​ in another blog post, I did not know anything was going on and as I blogged, you don’t always know as you think.

I am also triggered if I ever see him because I have been abused as an adult and that affected me big time, but to be abused when a child, I could not even imagine.
He helped me when I had a flashback to when I was raped. He supported me, by coming with me to Nottingham, just to help me where I needed to go, for my first counseling session. He came across caring and never did I feel pressured to have sex, during the time I was with him. A cuddle, felt just a cuddle. Nothing more. When we would see on the news about a child being abused, or missing, we both had views about it. Never, during these times, did I suspect anything wrong.

How could he harm a child and keep that hidden, in all that six years?

Would he have harmed his own daughter? Did he harm his daughter, during the time she had a week with him? (First partner split with him and left taking both and son and daughter with her. She was 2 years old, ex said, at the time they split up. Son older. They lived very far away, that involved boat, or being in an aeroplane, to get where they lived, so missed most of their years. I wonder what she has thought of this? as their relationship was much longer than ours.)

Did he harm another child he cared for quite a lot. Or was that child lucky, being a boy?

Did he honestly think I would stand by him, when this came out, had we been still together by then?

Remembering​ my last ever conversation with the ex, via Skype, before having that year break, I will never forget that last conversation I had with him. This is because I remember his body language when I said to him, “I think I know why you don’t want to move in with me?” He looked like an animal caught in headlights.
Now you have to realise, that this was at a time the child abuse had not come out. This is someone I loved and who supposed to have loved me. But here he is frozen, looking trapped. I will never forget that look.
But because I discovered he was jailed last June for abusing that child and remembering that look, from all those years ago, he thought I knew. Had I known then, I would have called the police and I would have fucking kicked him where it hurt prior. Yes, had I done it, I probably would have got done for assaulting him. But it would have been worth it.
I hope he does not survive jail and if he gets out, I hope he is lonely. In fact, I am positive he would be lonely, because the family would disown him.

He apparently is not allowed back in Nottinghamshire. But my concern is if I bumped into him wherever he lands up, as I am not going to know. I don’t want to see him again and if I was ever in an area he’d be living in, I hope he never approaches me. I know I would be angry, trembling with my emotions raking up my past triggers and being physically sick. I wouldn’t keep quiet and tell him to go the other way, shouting so any parents nearby know to keep their child away from him and what he is.

I will never forget the day I found out via Google, of his jail sentence and his crime, in which he had already been in jail for some months at that point. It was just days after the double funeral of my cousin and her husband. The world just spun as I was in a mess, until eventually crashing out and sitting on the floor.
Although a very traumatic time and some events blurry around that day, I have not forgotten the support I received around that time.

For those new to this, or have forgotten some of this, then posts below will kind of update you on that, just be aware of possible triggers it may cause you. Content warnings are in these posts.

Please be aware when commenting of possible triggers for me. This is still raw. I don’t want to ever come across him, but I have wanted to write and have my say with him in a letter, but I don’t want to give my address to him. I don’t know if the police can help with this, or not. I have never really asked, even though I have wanted to contact them ever since I knew.

Related posts:

As a survivor of abuse. – If you ask me to forgive, you are not helping.

After reading another blogger’s post today, I felt inspired to write my own post on this topic.
By reading this post, I want you to understand why you have to be careful and avoid saying these words. It does not work for us all.

  • Don’t tell me to forgive.
  • Don’t tell me to forgive because it will lessen my pain.
  • Don’t tell me to forgive and say, “I’m not saying that what that person did was acceptable, it’s just so you can let go and move on.”

It doesn’t matter how you place, or rephrase your words, if you mention anywhere in the conversation that I am to forgive, you are definitely not helping me. 

I have not had childhood abuse to the extent as sexual abuse. Mine was verbal abuse. But at times, because the verbal and body language I was observing off dad, I was scared I would be hit in some form, like being belted, or on two ocassions I was threatened with a shovel because I was screaming for him to stop hitting my dog with it. I lived in fear of my dad.

There are things that have happened and as I have blogged about in my childhood, in my earlier blog posts.
Also things have happened in my 20’s and now discovered 40’s. There is no way I could forgive. I don’t need to forgive to heal, as I have had other methods over the years to heal, or to be lessened.

To be told to forgive someone who gave trauma to me and the latest I found out last year, who played a part in trauma to someone else and I learn it happened in the whole time I was with that person, that it re-triggers my past trauma in my 20’s, there is no way I will forgive.

It makes my blood boil to have someone tell me to forgive and only slows down my healing journey.

The damage will always be there for me, but using the things I learnt in my counselling session, along with the things I do, to help me heal is what I need to do, to lessen the pain and heal. I do not appreciate your words when you make what ever comment, with forgiveness somewhere inside that comment. No, I do not appreciate it. (A repeat to make sure you read it right, the first time.) Even counsellors do not say this.

Why do people look at you weird, when they learn you choose to stay single?

(Content warning: mentions rape, child abuse and a bit of swearing.)

I choose to stay single, as my blog readers will know and understand.
My faith in relationships is no more, other than friends. I don’t want to live with anyone as a friend, or anything more.
Until people have been in my situation where you have been raped and a little mental abuse in your first relationship, find a second to be nice as he his, but did not go anywhere because I was on like a rebound from the first, but there were other things too and so I had so many years break, before meeting the third.
The third I split up from after 6 years, because he could not commit and so during all that time, that relationship was part-time. I had learnt last year as you know by accident, that he was a child abuser and was jailed last June for 4 years and 6 months. So it is understandable that I have lost faith in anything more than friendships.

Yes, I can live on my own happily and mostly, it is not lonely. I keep myself busy, or I relax. Either way, I do what I want to do and I do not have to consult on anyone. I have my freedom and I would not want that to change.

The last relationship I was in, he gave me faith in relationships. I never felt threatened, or pressured while I was with him. At that time I was with him, he was my friend, a soul mate and lover. To find out what he became last year and never see that in all the time I was with him, he has destroyed me when it comes to having faith in relationships. I was hugely triggered when I found out via a website, while browsing for something not related.
Although I do not talk of this man here, or personally with friends much, I am hurt to find what he is. He has destroyed me. There is no way I could live with anyone, on any level.
I never thought he would be a child abuser and that is what really gets to me. But I do remember how our last conversation over Skype went, which I will never forget how he looked like an animal trapped in headlights, when I said “I bet I know why you don’t want to move?” I will never forget that look, because I was mystified then, as to why he looked at me like that and I did not know then, what I know now. But to find out years down the line what he is and remember that day… Well, now I know.

So please be careful when you talk about relationships, as in expect me to commit with someone in some way, because it is a fucking trigger.

Why do people, expect certain people to live together?

Just because  i get on with them as a friend, does not mean I should move in with them. I value the friendship so much, that I would not risk jeporadising it.

Why do people look at you weird when you talk about living on your own happily, or travelling on your own happy? I’m not the only single person in this world, so stop looking at me like a freak.

I find now when I walk around, that I am very wary at times who is near me. There has been times I have felt threatened. That person was probably alright, but because of the vibe I was getting off them, I felt on high alert and triggered. I know that this trigger has re-appered because of learning what my ex became. If ex makes it alive out of jail, he better not come across me, because I would tell him to quickly walk away. If he was to get close enough, I could not say I wouldn’t wallop him one.

The funniest thing I have received in response to travelling alone, when I spoke with someone many years ago was, “Don’t you get bored?”
My reply while laughing, was “Why would I get bored while holidaying alone? Do you think I am going to stay in the hotel all day? I go out and see things.”

But the most inspiring and complimentary comment received was, “I think you are brave travelling somewhere. Especially when you have gone somewhere new. I don’t think I could do that.”

So please don’t judge someone who chooses to be single, because it’s our right, for what ever those reasons may be. Someone may choose to be single ad not have been abused. We all have our own story.


(Content warning: Swearing and talk of abuse.)

The following happened some months ago.

An old neighbour from the last street I used to live on, if we ever passed each other, we would always say hello, or some small chat. I’m sure he has seen my ex boyfriend, (the sick fucker who is now jailed,) as the way he sometimes used to speak, he would talk about others that lived not far from us, or next door to me. (Some would say nosey, but I would say neighbourly for him.) But going by his expression, he did not know my ex, which is surprise, as I had lived on that street for years.
Anyway, when I told him the sick news I discovered about the ex and knowing about how I had been in an abusive relationship before, he said, was I naive? I reacted very badly as you can imagine and I said I wasn’t naive, instead he played a very good act or whatever you want to call it.
But later in the day, this question he said about me being naive, was nearly imprinting on my mind and playing games with me. Self-doubt decided to also pay a visit and lots of questions gong round in my head; questions that either only the ex could answer. But would he? I’d fucking smack him one, before he would answer, cos I know I would blow my top in a way I have never experienced before in my life. I would be hugely triggered, if my eyes ever met him again.
But the other questions were my self-doubt questions that I had stopped before when I first discovered about the ex; questioning about past relationships, nearly asking that question, am I fucking naive and don’t know it? What is fucking wrong with me? How can I go from an abusive relationship and years after, enter another who I thought was caring, but underneath all that, he had a dark secret and turned out to be fucking like that?

But no, I wasn’t fucking naive. I can certainly answer that!

Blog post share: “I am not offended,” by The Daily Annagram

In this post I share a blog post that I have not long started following. Her blog post is called, “I Am Not Offended” by The Daily Annagram.
While you there reading this post, which comes with a trigger warning, as it raises violence and assault, I recommend you read other blog posts from this wonderful blogger too and follow.

This post was written because of something she read, which if you visit this post, you will find out more. The particular words that have sparked this post; “mistakes,” which I can totally relate to and understand and so this post is powerfully written. As this blogger has said and I agree and I have put this short here, when someone assaults, rapes, hits someone, or threaten, you cannot say they were “mistakes.”

Blog post share: “It isn’t just #metoo”

Having once been in a relationship where a man once thought he could have sex when he wanted, learning mum had experienced similar experiences to me after that experience I had in that relationship and discovering another ex has abused a child 10 years earlier, when I learnt last he was jailed, which questions what was I during that time? I feel I need to share this blog post I discovered today.
This blog post will take you to a blog called, “Her Patchwork Heart” and it comes with trigger warnings, as the post discusses sexual assault many times. As hard as it is to read and hear about stories like this, it is important that we hear, because when we have been abused some way, we are scared to talk about it because we wonder if we will be believed. We can also be told it was our fault or to be quiet. But being quiet about it does lots of harm, on top of harm and damage already caused from being abused.
Victims are no longer going to stand in being quiet and are now speaking up. We won’t be made to be quiet or shut up! We might be moving forward in the right direction in speaking up about this, but someone out there may be still going through something similar and feeling the same; scared, not believed, told to be quiet. It needs to stop and people need to realise that you don’t own your partner, girlfriend, boyfriend, just because you go out with them, or are married to them. It does not give you the right to abuse.

Her Patchwork Heart

TW: sexual assault is mentioned many times in this post, so please keep yourself safe while reading.

Today, while on a date, I was told that perhaps my “timid” demeanor and my soft voice are the reasons I have had so many “odd” encounters with men, whereby they think it is okay to ambush me with kisses on the mouth or brazenly graze my breasts or slip a hand up my dress. I was told that this makes me seem like “easy prey”, like I’m the type of person that would stay quiet. And, you know what? I am. I am that quiet woman, conditioned to stay silent. When I was little and was coaxed into playing doctor under the bed it wasn’t him that got into trouble, it was me. I was made to feel bad and dirty. When grownups tricked me into touching their “private parts” I was…

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