My parents always lived paycheck to paycheck but did their best to make sure their children were loved and taken care of. When my twin sister and I were babies we were in cribs that had wheels. The wheels supposedly locked in place but my mom came in to check on us one night and my crib somehow was across the room and not where it was supposed to be. My mom was frightened and couldn’t understand how it had happened. She put it to the back of her mind. Except it kept happening. My parents finally realized I could pull myself up and I was rocking back and forth. I would continue this soothing behavior for the rest of my life. Whether it was side to side or back and forth I’ve done it since I could talk. What does that say?
I also bounced one leg like a jackhammer without even realizing I was doing it. Teachers would call me out publicly for doing so. Rocking side to side while standing in the lunch line in Elementary School didn’t help either. It’s surprising how many teachers feed into the bullying of someone who is different.
Anxiety started at such an early age I didn’t know what it was. I thought maybe I was dying, adopted, an alien, robot, a mistake, I never thought I belonged, I always knew I was different. People around me at some point or another made sure I knew it too. Little jabs and comments from relatives they thought I didn’t hear or understand. The kids at school, teachers, and now even Doctors.
I always had trouble being away from my Mom for any length of time. In my early teens I did cut myself occasionally to distract my brain. I’d have to deal with the actual physical pain instead of the mental pain for at least awhile. But I knew I couldn’t do it often because my Mom was the nosiest woman on the Planet and noticed everything. I think she really did have eyes in the back of her head.
Besides the rocking that started so early I also had nosebleeds that started at the same time. I’ve told the story before where a babysitter wasn’t told about my nosebleeds or how I could move my crib. When she looked in our room all she saw was blood all over the walls and my crib way across the other side of the room. Not a good night for her.
The nosebleeds continued until I turned 12 when a Doctor decided to take out my tonsils and adenoids. By that time I had my nose cauterized 3 times. If you’ve never had it done let me paint you a picture. In the movies when someone is stranded without medical attention and a wound won’t stop bleeding and they’re afraid of infection someone will heat a piece of metal/iron until it glows red. At that time they press it to seal the wound. In modern times they use a chemical version that’s shoved up your nose. It still hurts like hell. Again, no one bothered to find out why I was having nosebleeds almost everyday. No one bothered to find out why I was rocking either.
I talk about these things now because the brain is more complex than anyone will ever know in our lifetime. We can’t know why a person makes the choices they do because we don’t live in their head. We haven’t been through what they have. Not everyone can pray away their pain, talk away their hopelessness, when they don’t even know why they feel it in the first place.
Most of the time I asked myself “What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you be happy like everyone else? If your own twin can do it so can you. Are you stupid? A mistake? What’s wrong with me?” Having a twin who is living a “normal” life is excruciating to watch and feel. It isn’t resentment. It’s regret.
While I was drunk one night I found out a person I cared about had said and done some upsetting things. He had called me names which I should’ve expected, he told everyone he was only with me to get close to my best friend W, he wouldn’t normally sleep with a “fat bitch” like me, and to top it off I walked in on him kissing W. I grabbed a knife from the sink and started slicing. I was pissed, hurt, and somehow thought it would show them something. What I don’t know. It took awhile for W to find me and take me to the Hospital. My parents weren’t called that time because W was there to back up my lie.
I slit my wrists one more time, overdosed twice, and jumped off the roof of a building (I was too drunk to realize how close to the ground I was). Anyone who fails that many times really needs to give up and accept there’s a reason why you are not succeeding.
I’ve been reading new research. It shows a link between women who had a virus while pregnant that passed to their baby’s brain. A neurologist told me my mother must of had a virus while pregnant because it showed where I had an infection in my brain at one time that caused continuous swelling. This is also linked to mental illness.
The Danish finished research recently where they found that between the years 1945-1995 92,000 Danes were diagnosed with a mood disorder, 36,000 of them had a severe infection or developed an autoimmune disease at some point before being diagnosed with a mood disorder.
The research is strong between inflammation and mental illness. I can’t overlook it considering I have Celiac Disease, Degenerative Disc Disease, Osteoporosis, Spinal Stenosis, Arthritis, and various other problems. There’s also a genetic factor and ethnic factor. It mostly happens with people from Celtic descent. This would be my Mom’s entire family. My Nanny’s side and Poppy’s side both. My mother’s maiden name translates to “dark stranger” from when the Norse invaded Ireland and settled there. Eventually the Norse name became my mom’s maiden name which matches the information we have about where my Grandfather came from in Ireland.
I think I’m off track. It’s almost 4:00 p.m. and my thought process goes downhill starting at 3:00 p.m. so I only have a little bit of time left.
What I wanted to really say is it’s nice to try to reach out to people who need help. If you do it the right way. Blaming someone who is already gone is pointless. When a person is spiraling downward in their own head you can’t get through, believe me I know this first hand. If Psychosis is involved and the person is hearing a voice telling them how useless they are, they’re a piece of shit, their kids would be better off without them so would their entire family, they hurt everyone around them they should just disappear, it’s almost impossible to make that person listen or to expect that person to call you and talk.
There’s nothing rational about suicide so expecting the person to act rational and call someone for help isn’t rational. That’s why it hurts everyone involved as much as it does. Even when the person survives an attempt their life is no longer their own. Trust is gone, relationships damaged beyond repair, no one knows what to say or do so they pretend you are no longer there as if you actually did die. That’s my experience from my life because I’ve lived it. I didn’t read about it in a book or watch 13 Reasons Why I live it and I’m still living it. But the key word in all that I’ve said is “live”.