Cherylanne Arnealt
New Here
Hi,
So this is the first time I've done this. I know it is a long post, but all of it is important, so I hope you read it till the end. I've been to counseling sessions, but I have always wanted someone to talk to who has been through some of the things I have. So please comment about your experiences.
I am 19 years old, and I suffer from anxiety and occasionally depression. The anxiety is mainly triggered by social settings, anything to do with drugs or alcohol and also other women who have a very assertive/aggressive personality. I also suffered from chronic headaches and nosebleeds from childhood until I moved out on my own. I also wet the bed until I was around 12/13. I still slightly tense up when I hear loud footsteps and constantly feel the need to hide things when people knock at my bedroom door. I never ever have people over (even my boyfriend hasn't been over for several months). The anxiety also caused and still causes severe heartburn and other major stomach problems. I have just started on anti anxiety meds, which I think is helping. I am constantly making plans and remaking plans just in case the first plan doesnt work out. There are times when I constantly feel the need to cry and something as simple aa weird look can give me a panic attack.
So now that I've mentioned my symptoms, I guess I should mention my trauma that caused them.
To start off, I was a foster child for half my life, due to my mother being Schizophrenic and my father being a drug addict. I was constantly in and out of foster care, never staying in the same place for usually more than a month. I was constantly being put in and out of my father's care due to the drug exposure and neglect he put my older brother and I through. During this time, my father had sexually abused me, and consistently exposed me to pornography and other sexual things. I was supposed to be crowned ward but my social worker made a mistake, so I ended up living with my father and my step mother for five years.
Now while my father cut down on the drinking while he was with her, which was good, but she was physically and emotionally abusive. So I was being fed, had a roof over my head and wasn't being exposed to an abundance of drugs, but I was being internally torn apart by my step mother.
My father didn't notice it (or ignored it). I started cutting and was deeply depressed, but he didn't do anything. My father has done some horrible things to me, but when I was a child, I overlooked them and created a hero image instead. He was kind to me and loved me, so it really hurt that he didn't notice that anything was wrong. One day, she slammed my head against the wall before dinner, and my dad heard it. He finally put two and two together and realized what was going on. He called the police and we ended up moving out the next week. We moved to my older half sisters for a while, but eventually found anither place to live. I am not sure why I thought it would be different than all of the other times I lived with him when I was younger, but it wasn't. We lived right underneath a crack dealer, so he was constantly high or drunk or both. Sex workers would come knocking on our door at late hours and there was never enough food to eat. I witnessed my dad pin my stepmother up against a wall by her neck and threaten to kill her all because she caught him with a hooker, smoking and drinking while I was in the other room.
We eventually moved back in with her (why she would take him back I don't know). It was fine for a few weeks, but eventually started to get worse, so I ran away to my half sister's house.
I lived with her until I was 17. It was much better than anywhere I had been in the beginning, but eventually, she became emotionally abusive as well. I wasn't the average teenager (I guess I still am one), I didn't party or do drugs, I tried not to talk back, always helped out. I tried to make myself as unnoticeable as possible. But she had been through a lot as a child too, so she was kind of cold, and it was weird balancing the sister and parent thing. She lost a baby in the last year I lived there, and I guess it triggered a bipolar disorder. I think it was always there, but it got much worse, and she refused to get help for it. She was unpredictable and would get mad at me for no reason (like going to church, or running 5 minutes late coming home from school). Like I said, I never partied or did drugs, but she did plenty, and she still did a lot despite having two children and me. She had a different boyfriend every few months but would circulate between 3 specific guys. She would drive them to drink by ignoring them or depriving them of basic human affection, then get mad at them when they came home drunk in the middle of the night. She put one guy in jail multiple times, and beat him up constantly (broke his ribs and ripped out his lip ring). She would laugh at me for being a 'goody goody' and then got mad when I didn't invite her to things. It got to the point where I didn't feel comfortable eating her food or come downtairs, so I would starve. I told her I wanted to move out (keep in mind I had mentioned that i wanted to in a few years), and she completely freaked out. Decided to make a list of things I had to pay if I was going to live under her roof (this was in anger, not in a 'trying to get me ready for the outside world' way that she later desquised it as. If she had com to me and suggested it, I would have been 100% open, but the way she presented it was not appropriate) she then proceeded to ignore me and pretend I didn't exist (didn't make me dinner like she usually did) and took my light bulb out because I "didn't pay my rent". I tried to suggest a mediated session, but she wanted nothing to do with it. One morning, she got her mother and her half sister to harrass me over text message saying that I don't appreciate anything and that I was a liar. I spend that whole day in my guidance counselors office having panic attacks. I decided not to go home, and spent a month at my boyfriends parent before finding my own place. We tried to schedule a mediated session with her to restore the relationship but she kept canceling and eventually sent my vice principal a letter saying she never wanted to see me again. It was so bad, they didn't let me read it.
So I was on my own at 17. Two months after I moved out, my boyfriend of almost 3 years broke up with me. It was a really bad break up and left me deeply depressed again. 2 days after the breakup, my grandmother died. She basically took the role of my mother throughout my childhood because of my moms schizophrenia and I loved her a lot. These recent events left me in a downward spiral for a long time.
My mom and I never had much of a relationship. Most of my life, I was scared of her because of some nonsense my dad convinced me ofof (he actually managed to manipulate me into getting a restraining order). I have a much better relationship with her now, but it does still trigger some anxiety when I am around her.
As for the boyfriend, he took a downward spiral as well after the break up. He fell into drug abuse and eventually addiction. When he hit rock bottom, I was much stronger and the only support he had. We were still good friends, but became really good friends while he made a recovery. We started spending more and more time together and eventually got back together.
As I have said before, anything drug related triggers my anxiety. Rationally, I understand that people who do them aren't all bad, and that recreational use is not a big deal at a certain age or that the person is still them, and they wouldn't do anything while high or intoxicated that they wouldn't normally (like hurt me). But no matter what I tell myself I still have an emotional thing with it that tells me that it's bad and makes people evil. I think, what if my boyfriend is out drinking and he breaks into my house and rapes me (actually though). I know there is no rational thought to that because it would never happen but those thoughts and the anxiety that goes with it completely trumps any logic. There was one time, when I went to a cottage with some friends and there were people drinking. This was the first time I had been exposed to alcohol since I moved out of my sister's. The fist night, I was uneasy, but it was manageable. As the second night rolled bu, I had to go to bed really early because I didn't want anyone to see me cry (involuntary anxiety tears) and I didn't want to ruin their good time. I woke up in the middle of the night in excruciating pain. My stomach felt like it was being ripped in two. I couldn't sit up straight (I didn't drink any alcohol by the way) and I ended up falling asleep on the bathroom floor in child's pose. That was when I realized that I could not have drugs or alcohol in my life what so ever.
I talked to my boyfriend about it (the one with the drug problem) and it had been the topic of many conversations prior. I gave him an ultimatum. I told him that he knew what he was getting into when he got back together with me and that he needed to quit or I couldn't be with him. I told him that I understood that it could take some time and I am fine with that. It has gotten a little better, but he doesn't really want to quit ( its just marijuana and social drinking at the moment, and he is comfortable there, but I am not). I have tried to explain to him the emotion and anxiety being it, but he doesn't understand. He says he doesn't want to hurt me and feels guilty, yet continues to dig himself into holes that he can't get out of.
If any of you have any advise about how to deal with the symptoms I get or if you have experienced anything that I have please comment. :)
So this is the first time I've done this. I know it is a long post, but all of it is important, so I hope you read it till the end. I've been to counseling sessions, but I have always wanted someone to talk to who has been through some of the things I have. So please comment about your experiences.
I am 19 years old, and I suffer from anxiety and occasionally depression. The anxiety is mainly triggered by social settings, anything to do with drugs or alcohol and also other women who have a very assertive/aggressive personality. I also suffered from chronic headaches and nosebleeds from childhood until I moved out on my own. I also wet the bed until I was around 12/13. I still slightly tense up when I hear loud footsteps and constantly feel the need to hide things when people knock at my bedroom door. I never ever have people over (even my boyfriend hasn't been over for several months). The anxiety also caused and still causes severe heartburn and other major stomach problems. I have just started on anti anxiety meds, which I think is helping. I am constantly making plans and remaking plans just in case the first plan doesnt work out. There are times when I constantly feel the need to cry and something as simple aa weird look can give me a panic attack.
So now that I've mentioned my symptoms, I guess I should mention my trauma that caused them.
To start off, I was a foster child for half my life, due to my mother being Schizophrenic and my father being a drug addict. I was constantly in and out of foster care, never staying in the same place for usually more than a month. I was constantly being put in and out of my father's care due to the drug exposure and neglect he put my older brother and I through. During this time, my father had sexually abused me, and consistently exposed me to pornography and other sexual things. I was supposed to be crowned ward but my social worker made a mistake, so I ended up living with my father and my step mother for five years.
Now while my father cut down on the drinking while he was with her, which was good, but she was physically and emotionally abusive. So I was being fed, had a roof over my head and wasn't being exposed to an abundance of drugs, but I was being internally torn apart by my step mother.
My father didn't notice it (or ignored it). I started cutting and was deeply depressed, but he didn't do anything. My father has done some horrible things to me, but when I was a child, I overlooked them and created a hero image instead. He was kind to me and loved me, so it really hurt that he didn't notice that anything was wrong. One day, she slammed my head against the wall before dinner, and my dad heard it. He finally put two and two together and realized what was going on. He called the police and we ended up moving out the next week. We moved to my older half sisters for a while, but eventually found anither place to live. I am not sure why I thought it would be different than all of the other times I lived with him when I was younger, but it wasn't. We lived right underneath a crack dealer, so he was constantly high or drunk or both. Sex workers would come knocking on our door at late hours and there was never enough food to eat. I witnessed my dad pin my stepmother up against a wall by her neck and threaten to kill her all because she caught him with a hooker, smoking and drinking while I was in the other room.
We eventually moved back in with her (why she would take him back I don't know). It was fine for a few weeks, but eventually started to get worse, so I ran away to my half sister's house.
I lived with her until I was 17. It was much better than anywhere I had been in the beginning, but eventually, she became emotionally abusive as well. I wasn't the average teenager (I guess I still am one), I didn't party or do drugs, I tried not to talk back, always helped out. I tried to make myself as unnoticeable as possible. But she had been through a lot as a child too, so she was kind of cold, and it was weird balancing the sister and parent thing. She lost a baby in the last year I lived there, and I guess it triggered a bipolar disorder. I think it was always there, but it got much worse, and she refused to get help for it. She was unpredictable and would get mad at me for no reason (like going to church, or running 5 minutes late coming home from school). Like I said, I never partied or did drugs, but she did plenty, and she still did a lot despite having two children and me. She had a different boyfriend every few months but would circulate between 3 specific guys. She would drive them to drink by ignoring them or depriving them of basic human affection, then get mad at them when they came home drunk in the middle of the night. She put one guy in jail multiple times, and beat him up constantly (broke his ribs and ripped out his lip ring). She would laugh at me for being a 'goody goody' and then got mad when I didn't invite her to things. It got to the point where I didn't feel comfortable eating her food or come downtairs, so I would starve. I told her I wanted to move out (keep in mind I had mentioned that i wanted to in a few years), and she completely freaked out. Decided to make a list of things I had to pay if I was going to live under her roof (this was in anger, not in a 'trying to get me ready for the outside world' way that she later desquised it as. If she had com to me and suggested it, I would have been 100% open, but the way she presented it was not appropriate) she then proceeded to ignore me and pretend I didn't exist (didn't make me dinner like she usually did) and took my light bulb out because I "didn't pay my rent". I tried to suggest a mediated session, but she wanted nothing to do with it. One morning, she got her mother and her half sister to harrass me over text message saying that I don't appreciate anything and that I was a liar. I spend that whole day in my guidance counselors office having panic attacks. I decided not to go home, and spent a month at my boyfriends parent before finding my own place. We tried to schedule a mediated session with her to restore the relationship but she kept canceling and eventually sent my vice principal a letter saying she never wanted to see me again. It was so bad, they didn't let me read it.
So I was on my own at 17. Two months after I moved out, my boyfriend of almost 3 years broke up with me. It was a really bad break up and left me deeply depressed again. 2 days after the breakup, my grandmother died. She basically took the role of my mother throughout my childhood because of my moms schizophrenia and I loved her a lot. These recent events left me in a downward spiral for a long time.
My mom and I never had much of a relationship. Most of my life, I was scared of her because of some nonsense my dad convinced me ofof (he actually managed to manipulate me into getting a restraining order). I have a much better relationship with her now, but it does still trigger some anxiety when I am around her.
As for the boyfriend, he took a downward spiral as well after the break up. He fell into drug abuse and eventually addiction. When he hit rock bottom, I was much stronger and the only support he had. We were still good friends, but became really good friends while he made a recovery. We started spending more and more time together and eventually got back together.
As I have said before, anything drug related triggers my anxiety. Rationally, I understand that people who do them aren't all bad, and that recreational use is not a big deal at a certain age or that the person is still them, and they wouldn't do anything while high or intoxicated that they wouldn't normally (like hurt me). But no matter what I tell myself I still have an emotional thing with it that tells me that it's bad and makes people evil. I think, what if my boyfriend is out drinking and he breaks into my house and rapes me (actually though). I know there is no rational thought to that because it would never happen but those thoughts and the anxiety that goes with it completely trumps any logic. There was one time, when I went to a cottage with some friends and there were people drinking. This was the first time I had been exposed to alcohol since I moved out of my sister's. The fist night, I was uneasy, but it was manageable. As the second night rolled bu, I had to go to bed really early because I didn't want anyone to see me cry (involuntary anxiety tears) and I didn't want to ruin their good time. I woke up in the middle of the night in excruciating pain. My stomach felt like it was being ripped in two. I couldn't sit up straight (I didn't drink any alcohol by the way) and I ended up falling asleep on the bathroom floor in child's pose. That was when I realized that I could not have drugs or alcohol in my life what so ever.
I talked to my boyfriend about it (the one with the drug problem) and it had been the topic of many conversations prior. I gave him an ultimatum. I told him that he knew what he was getting into when he got back together with me and that he needed to quit or I couldn't be with him. I told him that I understood that it could take some time and I am fine with that. It has gotten a little better, but he doesn't really want to quit ( its just marijuana and social drinking at the moment, and he is comfortable there, but I am not). I have tried to explain to him the emotion and anxiety being it, but he doesn't understand. He says he doesn't want to hurt me and feels guilty, yet continues to dig himself into holes that he can't get out of.
If any of you have any advise about how to deal with the symptoms I get or if you have experienced anything that I have please comment. :)
