Getting back

It’s been quite some time, 3 1/2 years since I did much with this blog. I’m going to get back to it. Encouragement and admonishment from a few individuals of late…to tell my story AND to help others learn HOW to help someone in my situation.

The first way to help someone in my situation – come up alongside them, don’t expect anything from them, meet them at their level, and LOVE them. Build that trust. Acceptance is a major key. The journey is not a couple of days, couple of weeks, couple of months, or couple of years. The journey is life-long.

I’ve been pretty sick, physically, for quite some time. I am finally getting better. There have been a lot of changes in our home and in our lives in these past years.

Thoughts & Mandie’s Story

 Thoughts

By now my readers must be thinking – “How can it be that one person must have endured so much? How is it that this person has gone through the things she has and is still moving? Has she really endured this or are these events either made up or just one time event that she made into multiple events?”

I’m here to tell you, I don’t know how or why I’ve endured so much and I’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of the stories, the horror I lived through. I don’t understand why. I’ll never understand why someone didn’t come to my rescue and succeed. I did have a few who did try but were told basically to leave it to the professionals. The church was to deal with it. I’m sad to say, my church failed me miserably. In later years of my Sunday School teacher’s life I found her and she told me she tried to get me removed. Others tried to help. To no avail.

How did I go through so much and am still alive today? I don’t know. I don’t know how I didn’t succeed in my suicide attempts. I don’t know except God. While I didn’t think good of Him at the time, I had a friend in Jesus because He, too, had endured so much. I felt Jesus to be holding me so much of the time and we cried together in secret. I am still here also because God gave me the creativeness to split, to create others to endure; hence, my multiplicity.

Questions must abound about the validity of my stories. They have to because it isn’t normal for these things to happen and someone not escape. Because I know questions have to abound in common sense and critically thinking people, I realize I won’t be believed by some. That is ok. That is your right. This is my truth. This was my horror. And this was my life. I do understand not everyone will be able to comprehend that these events took place repeatedly. It is OK. For some, it is going to be just too much.

How can someone go through these events over and over again? These must just be one-time events that she’s embellished. I wish I could say that none of these things ever took place, even once; however, that just isn’t true. These things were constant and I never thought there would be an end to them. I never thought I’d ever see life any other way; yet, I hoped but my hopes were always dashed.

Introduction to Mandie’s Story:
After Kelsey’s story yesterday and Ron being gone for a while like he was, I thought maybe just maybe it was over but then that is when Mandie came to be. Mandie’s story isn’t one of physical or sexual but emotional abuse and betrayal. Her story, in fact, just isn’t going to make sense because it never should have been after all that had already happened. But, it did. Her story follows.

Mandie’s Story

After Ron got out of August State Mental and went to the Bangor Rescue Mission again, my mother would go see him repeatedly. She finally asked me one Saturday afternoon late in the summer if I would like to be a church pianist. I was 14 by this time and had been taking lessons for 3 full years. I was told later in life I’d done 10 years of lessons as Leah could never keep me busy. Leah knew things and knew that a normal girl wouldn’t do so much.

The Question:
Here I was being asked if I wanted to be a church pianist and finally my dream was coming to fruition. Oh how I had worked for this for oh, so long. I said yes not knowing what was coming next. She said, “How would you feel if Ron came back” or some type question like this.

HOW does a 14 year old answer something like that? How does a victim answer that kind of question. I answered in fear for the wrath of my mother in the affirmative. A neighbor asked me the same question and I told him I had mixed feelings. I wasn’t totally scared of Roy Daigle.

At the time I had no idea what phishing was. I soon found out as Roy told my mother and she came back to me about it. Mandie was created at that point to deal with whatever came….the rest of us just couldn’t handle the betrayal…that idea. No! When she inquired of me again, I knew then that Roy told her and she asked why I had told him different. I told her I was scared and she totally ignored it.

The “New Life”
I played the piano for their re-commitment ceremony and we became one big happy family – on the outside. There were those who were dead set against this but they had no say. Even though we moved to another town and I went to another school, because it was within close enough proximity to Bucksport, and my mother figured no one would know – they did.

Bucksport and Newburg/Hampden are not that far away from each other. Because people read, talk, and I was in high school by then, families discuss things and I was the new girl in town. Because the boys knew I was the new girl, the boys put condoms in my book bag on the school bus. It was so humiliating. It wasn’t long until I tried really hard NOT to take the early bus home but the late bus part way and then walk the rest of the way.

Yes, we went to church and yes, I was the Newburg Church’s pianist but I was torn apart. While Ron could not do what he had to me, it didn’t stop him from trying things like coming up behind me and grabbing my bottom or my breasts. It didn’t stop all actions toward me. I was still used, abused, and violated. What WAS my mother thinking????? What WERE the church folks who wanted this thinking??? Did not ANYONE have an inth of a brain??????

Now, 2014 and Mandie’s Discovery

Later in life, just a few months ago, we discovered Mandie. She slapped hubby across the face one day while we were standing in the exact same places in our house that my mother and I had been in my house on Elm Street the day she confronted me about Roy’s comments. The sun was about the same, our positions were exact, and he didn’t shut a dresser drawer the way it needed to be. I drew off and smacked him one not even seeing HIM but my mother. While this wasn’t the dresser, this was the window and it was later in the afternoon.  My poor hubby.

While the slap was not hard because I’d attempted to stop whoever was in the act, I didn’t manage in time. It shocked us both. We found out that Mandie was behind it and she told me her story later. I had had it written down on the heels of Kelsey’s stories; hence, the reason it made sense to follow it here in the blog postings.

My hubby has endured so much because he is my advocate, working through the painful memories with me as I move through them.  After yesterday’s post I told him I would understand if he wanted me to go.  He said to me, “You can just stop that little thought now” and that neither he nor I were going anywhere.  I was his now.  He was/is my protector now.

 

The Accusation

When children are sexually molested, the mantra is, “they’ll likely go on to abuse their children” I was told as a 12 year old. I remember we had a Pensacola Christian College record that had the song “Done Made My Vow” and I sung that over and over again as I played it on the record player that day. That day I made a vow to myself and to God that day that I would NEVER hurt ANY child EVER. That was in the Fall of 1979 after my Grandmother had passed away and my step-father had finally been arrested for molesting me, and I might add, only because Barbara had told my mother that if she didn’t call the cops, Barbara would. She’d had enough. She knew I’d had enough. I am eternally grateful for Barbara’s intervention that day.

The Year 2007
Fast forward to adult life and 2007 as a 40 year old. It’s already been shared that I had been previously married and had a daughter.  She always loved Tinkerbell so one of her nick names is Tink. Born in 1988, she’d turned 18 the summer before, in 2006.

By this time I also had purchased my very own home and car as well as established myself well in the nursing field as a Certified Nursing Assistant and in the field of accounting working as a Credit Card Specialist at Ryan’s Restaurant Group with my own department that I had developed and run. In summer of 2006, my daughter had left with Cathy.

That summer also, Ryan’s had begun the Merger & Acquisition process of combining with Buffet’s, Incorporated out of Egan Minnesota, which by the way, the employees did not know about at first. Once we did know though, people began leaving and as with any M & A, “every circus brings its own clowns” so says my hubby and he was right.

The first round of lay-offs I was told I was staying, the second round three weeks later, I wasn’t so lucky. They told me my last day would be February 15, 2007. I guess they realized they better get rid of me before I turned that magic 40 years old just a few days later on March 10.

Because I had held down two jobs, my Ryan’s job and a part-time job with Kelly Home Care at the time, I felt it wrong to leave Kelly after I got the news. So, I stayed and after my magic day, I went to work with Kelly working over 100 hours a week, though some of the hours were “sleep-over” hours. While I was still responsible for the client, I could sleep for a certain period of time during the night, “with one eye open” so to speak.

May 7 I was at a client’s home helping her get ready to go and as I bent over the bed to make it, I wrenched my back. My body was finally saying “enough.” I fought it but by the next day, I was in the doctor’s office. I took some medications and they exacerbated my asthma and I landed in the hospital. That was the end of my nursing career as my back would sustain no more.

My daughter’s high school graduation was coming in June. I’d bought my ticket already and I was going to be at her graduation no matter what. Here I was though, no job, no second job, in the hospital for a short stint, and then home to recover. As the summer wore on I was still in school taking classes so I had those funds as well as my short-term disability, which wasn’t much, to live on for a short time. I did make it to my daughter’s graduation as well.

Going to physical therapy and having shots in my back only caused other issues. While I had a car, I couldn’t drive it so had to find rides for things. I lived so far away from everyone so that made things hard. As time wore on, I was able to drive again and for that I was thankful.

I was having trouble by September meeting my financial obligations. My church helped me “one last time” so I didn’t lose my house then, however, I did end up in the end losing it just a few short months later. My other bills were piling up as well and I just didn’t know where to turn and how to make ends meet any more. I was so spent, so discouraged, so weary. What would I do? Where could I turn? I hate asking for help because to me, if I can’t do it on my own, I would die. Yet, I couldn’t do it alone anymore. I started reaching out and in October I had an appointment with United Ministries to get help for my power bill.

That Fateful Day
United Ministries took people on the last Wednesday of the month so, October 24, 2007 with power bill and West’s Business Law 10th Edition in hand, I went to get help. I had to find them, not an easy feat for me, and then go in and wait. In the first row of chairs that day, I received a call on my cell phone from Cathy about my daughter. I put my textbook down and went out in the hallway. After the questions about me, she started in about the real reason for her call when I couldn’t make her go.

The Call
She said the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with my girl and continuously stated that I must have done something to her. She questioned me and interrogated me like I was on some kind of trial. I felt like a criminal as one accusation after another was hurled my direction and the worst of them was that I had molested my little girl. Because I was/am a multiple, she went on and on about…. “are you sure one of your alters didn’t do anything?” It mattered NOT what I said, SHE believed that I had molested my daughter and that THAT was what was wrong with her.

To my CORE being I was shaken because I vowed I’d never hurt a child that day in 1979. I vowed that I’d always protect a child, no matter, and I did that to the best of my own ability. I would NEVER molest a child. HOW could she, a purported abuse survivor herself AND knowing my severe abuses, EVER accuse me of such a heinous crime??????? HOW????

A Helping Hand
I went back into the big room and waited the last few minutes till my name was called. The person who saw me that day, an elderly and kind gentleman, could see I was shaken. He asked if there was anything he could do for me and what was wrong after he helped me with my power bill. I told him “No” but I so wanted to scream out! I so wanted to tell the whole world what I’d been accused of by this sick woman who just months prior had threatened me with the life of my child! I so wanted to scream out and say HELP ME! I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I went home. I cried. I talked to Momma. How could this be happening? How could this woman do this to me? How? Why?? Where would it ever end? I worked on my Peachtree Accounting software for my Applications for Accountants class and had a hard time. I worked on my Excel class, again just not able to concentrate. By this time I had gone from in-class on campus to online classes so I could work at them as I had time and time, I had. I got up and tried to do some cleaning. I was just so distraught. I think I finally ended up going over to Momma’s. I can’t remember much of that day after that or the following days after that for a while.

The Start of The Seizures
At that time I was still going to church, so Sunday, October 28th, just 4 days later, I went to the service in the morning, back to my home, and then to the service in the evening. The service in the evening is when it all broke loose. Sitting beside Momma, I began to have an asthma attack. I pulled out my inhaler to use it.

Fall is a bad time of the year for my asthma and I always make sure I have inhalers with me. After I used my inhaler, I was trying to listen but I began shaking internally, which….. came out externally and in no time flat I was shaking uncontrollably. I was SO embarrassed. As we were close to the end of the service and not to make any more of a scene, once the service ended, her husband took my keys and got my car to the doorway. She helped me to the car. She took me home.

Once at home, we called my Pulmonologist. While waiting for that call Momma got me inside and held me. The call came and since I had been on Xanax and still had some so my doctor told me to take some for them. Yes, I had developed two things – 1.) an allergic reaction to Albuterol and 2.) Emotionally induced seizures and I knew what it was from – the accusation.

The Pain of the Accusation
The accusation had gone so deep into my being and it needed out, it needed to be dealt with, it needed to be heard. It never should have been spoken! It was wrong, dead wrong. To me, it meant my vow in 1979 had been broken. To me it also meant that my hopes and dreams of never being accused were dashed. I had been accused and yet; I hadn’t committed the crime. I was innocent of any wrong doing. I had NOT committed that heinous crime and I had no representation to prove it. I was charged with that horrid “guilty” verdict from a woman and her hateful, cruel words. “GUILTY!”

For nearly three years, I suffered with these seizures. I had to keep Xanax on hand at all times. I could usually feel the seizures coming and if I could catch them in time, I could stop them in their tracks. It was not an easy time because there were times when they would start and my Xanax was not with me so I bought a medical necklace. Those times when I couldn’t get the Xanax, Momma would come to help me. I’d given her a key and I’d call her to come. She’d find me shaking uncontrollably, get my medicine into me, and in a few minutes, things would calm but she’d hold me so close while we waited and after they calmed. Momma was right there for me always. I will miss her deeply when her time on this earth is done.

Seven Years Later: Currently
Even while I have written this blog post, I have been very, very upset. Those same feelings from 2007 have come back; yet, I know that I am not guilty as I was charged and I know too that most of what this woman claims is probably not true.

Additionally, my daughter has absolved me of it as well stating to myself and others that

“my mom never abused me in any way. the things that happened were because she was not mentally stable. the only “abuse” was “neglect” in that she would honestly forget to feed me because it wouldn’t occur to her that I should eat.” July 3, 2011.

She’d told me prior to this that she forgave me for the things that I’d done wrong and our relationship today is what I’d always dreamed of but, it hasn’t been without much pain; however, SHE stated I never abused her in any way. I was NOT guilty as charged.  My daughter is a beautiful woman now, turning 26 years old this coming Sunday and ever so special to me.  I’m so very proud of her!  The pain of those words though still hurt me.

 

A Broken Heart Becomes a Mended Heart

Hubby shared this photo on my Facebook Timeline.

  It is so very fitting for this post.

A journal entry, made in 2012:

“My Heart is Broken”

November 10, 2012

Dear Journal,
Feeling so empty, numb, and heavy-hearted. Such a burden to everyone around me. Why can’t I learn something and keep that knowledge in my head? Why can’t I remember something and repeat it back or explain it? There is so much I just don’t get, so much overwhelming my heart, so much sadness. I’m missing so much common knowledge.

Being 40 plus years old and not knowing what the Pentagon was until yesterday, the word or what it even was, I just feel lost in my world. My world outside my head. I love my hubby but only frustrate him. I just want to give up.

The world is so confusing and I feel so numb, dumb, and stupid. People tell me I am not yet with so little common knowledge how can I not be? When my Auntie tells me I am the most “ass backward” person she’s ever met-this does not compute. When people make comments referencing something I should know about but instead it leaves me scratching my head wondering what they mean, when hubby reads something and I don’t understand it though it should be so simple and it is for him; these are the times and the reasons I feel so dumb, stupid, and empty. My world in my head is dead but no one knows, no one understands, no one realizes the emptiness, the void, the pain of it all, the feelings.

My brain has been raped just as my body was all these years and my brain just like my body is spent. The problem with my brain unlike my body, is that I need my brain to think; something I was not allowed to do growing up so instead of my brain being used, it sat empty, lethargic, yet spent trying to not learn, not think, not remember academia. Now I’m in a jam and have nothing to draw on, no foundation and as such cause great sadness for hubby.

I’m so distraught, overwhelmed, and feel like I have nowhere to turn. So many topics, so much that doesn’t go round up in my head that goes in other people heads. How do they remember things? I try to learn and I have to spend so much time. I have to repeat things over and over again, so much that it makes people tired. How do I go on like this? How do I function and work through it all? It hurts inside so very much. I’m such a burden.

I have a report for science to do by Monday. I don’t know where to begin. I tried to pick a topic and that one didn’t work so picked another topic and I don’t know how to answer the questions so don’t know if I can do that either.

I feel so alone, defeated, and overwhelmed by it all. What am I to do? I’m only frustrating hubby and I don’t want to ask him to help. It would only frustrate him more. I feel so useless, inadequate, and bummed. The emptiness overwhelms me. I hate being this way. I hate it. I wish I had someone to help me, walk through it with me. What to do now?? Where to go from here?? Blank.

I’m just too much, too much for others to handle. At this point, I wish I had walked away from life in early 2010 because then I wouldn’t be such a burden on others. So alone. So very alone and numb. Tears haven’t come to my eyes but they are in my heart. My heart is broken.”

Today’s Mended Heart

Currently:

Today, June 16, 2014…….

So very thankful I didn’t give up, that I DO have someone to walk me through it all: a soul mate. Hubby. He did help me through the dull drums that day in November 2012 and we went on to succeed.

The success was outstanding…..   

My graduation as Magna Cum Laude with a 3.82GPA in the top 8.67% of the graduating class in the School of Business.
Yes, today, I do understand so much more than I did 18 months ago. In 6 months from now I will be graduating with my Masters of Science in Accounting.

Today, I can comprehend and understand so much more…

My vocabulary is not that of a 5th grader any longer, my ability to comprehend has dramatically increased, and my retention abilities have created a foundation of things allowing me to build upon it daily, adding new things continually.

Today I am so glad I am alive! I truly AM blessed. I have a wonderful soul mate.  I love you Sweetheart!  You’ve given so much.