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DogMom731
My name is Crystal and I am 24 years old. I am a mother to my beautiful, six-month old son. Not long ago I was a student, pursuing my Bachelor's Degree in Business Management. Financial struggles have caused me to take a temporary hiatus from my studies. Additionally, my boyfriend and I had been living in our own apartment. The same financial difficulties which caused me to leave school (and which, I might add, were triggered by a series of serious complications resulting from my pregnancy) caused my family and I to seek shelter at the home of my fiancé’s mom. Yes, that’s right. He proposed. It was in the cutest way possible, too. But, I digress. For the sake of staying on my original track I will conclude my family’s description by saying that we all are looking at our situation from a positive perspective. We are working to better our situation, both as individuals and as a new little family. For example, my fiancé and I went to therapy together and have created a plan with the therapist to continue on a weekly basis. This is a positive thing, I believe.
Now, more about me; I love to sing, write poetry and short essays on topics that interest me, and volunteer with service dogs and children with autism. I am terrified of bugs, the dark, and not being able to see under the water when I go into the ocean. I could not live if music did not exist. One of my biggest fears is not dying but rather dying without being known. If you’ve ever seen “Shall We Dance” you will understand my reference to the fact that I feel as though I’d like to have a “witness” to my life before I die. I have yet to find one.
Additionally, something that you cannot tell just by looking at me is that I am in recovery from a combination of challenges. These challenges include my personal mental illnesses; the various forms of abuse that I endured from my childhood through the age of 19 years old (yes I was abused by multiple perpetrators for a full 19 years); neglect from the mental health/social services and education systems which allowed me to “slip through the cracks;” abandonment by my father at the age of 6 years old; chronic homelessness which began when I was 16 years old and lasted until I was 22 years old; bullying by my peers which started in kindergarten and lasted until the time I left high school; and a personal struggle with gender-identity, self-esteem, and self-injury.
To me, recovery is not a destination at which point I say, “I am recovered now” but rather it is a lifelong commitment to maintain my personal wellness by making the best choices possible and being accountable for those choices. The three biggest ways in which I a maintain my recovery and overall personal wellness are by going to therapy regularly, coordinating my care with my psychiatrist, and by utilizing my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (W.R.A.P.) in conjunction with my goal(s)-tracker.
My recovery started before I became aware that I was in recovery. It has followed a path of NUMEROUS ups and downs and has taken me places that I never thought I would come back from. I am more than happy to say that I have not only overcome all of the hardships that I have faced, but become quite successful because of them. In fact, I frequently tell people that “for every struggle that I have had to face I have gained or developed two strengths.” Please do not get me wrong; although I have overcome the hardships and struggles that are in my past that is not to say that I do not face additional struggles as time moves forward. Sometimes my struggles are few and far between. Other times they are relentless and appear to be never-ending.
Taking a vague look at my past, although I did not quite have the vocabulary to express this during that time; I am now quite certain that I was dealing with intense anxiety and depression as a young child. I have vague memories of trying to convince my mom to let me stay home from school. There were many times I faked illnesses and pretended to sleep through my alarm clock to avoid school. This continued into middle school and throughout high school. I know now that these are classic, textbook symptoms of the illnesses I was later diagnosed with and the traumas which I had yet to learn that I had faced.
By 14 years of age I was skipping school as often as I could and spending much time agonizing over making up missed school assignments. Sometime in the beginning of my ninth grade year I spent approximately three weeks in bed, due to an intense depression, which I believe was triggered by a major conflict among the group of friends I had surrounded myself with. I recall, from this period of time, the knowledge that “something wasn’t right” and that this “just wasn’t me.” I also recall feelings of absolute despair, loneliness, and hopelessness. I cried myself to sleep often and spent a lot of time just wishing that I would not wake up the next day.
At some point during that period of depression I mustered up whatever strength was inside me and, through my embarrassment, asked my mom to please help me by taking me to a doctor.
My treatment continued when I saw my first psychotherapist, also at the age of 14. I talked very honestly with him, which I know now to be one of the most important things I could have done. I was eventually diagnosed, by several psychiatrists, as having Bipolar Disorder (also known as manic depression) and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I was suspected of also having attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, although that was not confirmed until just recently.
There have been times during my recovery when I was on fourteen different medications at a time and still feeling very little relief from my symptoms. I have seen and dismissed many psychiatrists, started and resigned from many jobs, and ended too many relationships to count. I have been voluntarily hospitalized on two different occasions and also voluntarily participated in 5 different day-therapy programs (partial hospitalization and transitional outpatient programs). I dropped out of high-school in the ninth grade. At one point, due to anxiety, I thought that I would never have my driver's license or hold a job. Finally, I have struggled with issues of self-esteem, homelessness, gender identity, self-injury, and the overall acceptance of my mental illness.
That having been said; I have not only dealt with those things, but also overcome them. I am currently working with a great psychiatrist who has me on the least amount of medications possible. I have also finally been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. This is, of course, along with the Bipolar Disorder and Anxiety Disorder that I deal with.
Also, although I cannot go back to high-school, I am happy to say that I received my General Equivalency Diploma (GED) three months before my high school class graduated. It has been more than seven years since the last time I self-injured (with my “clean” date being 7/16/2006). I now have my license and own my own car, as well.
These accomplishments will all be the start of the many years I have ahead of me in which I will pursue my goals. In the future I see myself as having a successful full-time career. I am sure that there will be many other things that I will accomplish in my life as well.
I feel I should mention that although my traumas still haunt me on a daily basis in the form of memories I am getting a lot better at working with them and moving *through* them versus lettering them control me. I am hoping that, in a week or two, my therapist will deem me to be “an appropriate candidate” for EMDR therapy. When I say I am hopeful; I mean I could literally be brought to joyful tears at the idea that maybe, just maybe; my dissociation, flashbacks, etc. could be lessened. I am hopeful (did I mention that yet?) but, at the same time, I am not putting all my eggs in one basket. I do realize that I may not be a good candidate and/or that, if I participate in EMDR it may or may not have the results I hope for.
On that positive note, I would like to mention that recovery didn’t happen to me. I made it happen for myself with the support of many good people around me. I educated myself about my illnesses and have done my best to manage these illnesses. This means sometimes planning in advance to avoid triggers, always taking my medication (and not making excuses when I haven’t), getting the right amount of sleep, and asking for help or support when I know that I need it.
I know that if I can make recovery happen for me, then others can make recovery happen for them. Recovery is by NO means an easy road, however; it is very much so a worthwhile one!
Now, more about me; I love to sing, write poetry and short essays on topics that interest me, and volunteer with service dogs and children with autism. I am terrified of bugs, the dark, and not being able to see under the water when I go into the ocean. I could not live if music did not exist. One of my biggest fears is not dying but rather dying without being known. If you’ve ever seen “Shall We Dance” you will understand my reference to the fact that I feel as though I’d like to have a “witness” to my life before I die. I have yet to find one.
Additionally, something that you cannot tell just by looking at me is that I am in recovery from a combination of challenges. These challenges include my personal mental illnesses; the various forms of abuse that I endured from my childhood through the age of 19 years old (yes I was abused by multiple perpetrators for a full 19 years); neglect from the mental health/social services and education systems which allowed me to “slip through the cracks;” abandonment by my father at the age of 6 years old; chronic homelessness which began when I was 16 years old and lasted until I was 22 years old; bullying by my peers which started in kindergarten and lasted until the time I left high school; and a personal struggle with gender-identity, self-esteem, and self-injury.
To me, recovery is not a destination at which point I say, “I am recovered now” but rather it is a lifelong commitment to maintain my personal wellness by making the best choices possible and being accountable for those choices. The three biggest ways in which I a maintain my recovery and overall personal wellness are by going to therapy regularly, coordinating my care with my psychiatrist, and by utilizing my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (W.R.A.P.) in conjunction with my goal(s)-tracker.
My recovery started before I became aware that I was in recovery. It has followed a path of NUMEROUS ups and downs and has taken me places that I never thought I would come back from. I am more than happy to say that I have not only overcome all of the hardships that I have faced, but become quite successful because of them. In fact, I frequently tell people that “for every struggle that I have had to face I have gained or developed two strengths.” Please do not get me wrong; although I have overcome the hardships and struggles that are in my past that is not to say that I do not face additional struggles as time moves forward. Sometimes my struggles are few and far between. Other times they are relentless and appear to be never-ending.
Taking a vague look at my past, although I did not quite have the vocabulary to express this during that time; I am now quite certain that I was dealing with intense anxiety and depression as a young child. I have vague memories of trying to convince my mom to let me stay home from school. There were many times I faked illnesses and pretended to sleep through my alarm clock to avoid school. This continued into middle school and throughout high school. I know now that these are classic, textbook symptoms of the illnesses I was later diagnosed with and the traumas which I had yet to learn that I had faced.
By 14 years of age I was skipping school as often as I could and spending much time agonizing over making up missed school assignments. Sometime in the beginning of my ninth grade year I spent approximately three weeks in bed, due to an intense depression, which I believe was triggered by a major conflict among the group of friends I had surrounded myself with. I recall, from this period of time, the knowledge that “something wasn’t right” and that this “just wasn’t me.” I also recall feelings of absolute despair, loneliness, and hopelessness. I cried myself to sleep often and spent a lot of time just wishing that I would not wake up the next day.
At some point during that period of depression I mustered up whatever strength was inside me and, through my embarrassment, asked my mom to please help me by taking me to a doctor.
My treatment continued when I saw my first psychotherapist, also at the age of 14. I talked very honestly with him, which I know now to be one of the most important things I could have done. I was eventually diagnosed, by several psychiatrists, as having Bipolar Disorder (also known as manic depression) and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I was suspected of also having attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, although that was not confirmed until just recently.
There have been times during my recovery when I was on fourteen different medications at a time and still feeling very little relief from my symptoms. I have seen and dismissed many psychiatrists, started and resigned from many jobs, and ended too many relationships to count. I have been voluntarily hospitalized on two different occasions and also voluntarily participated in 5 different day-therapy programs (partial hospitalization and transitional outpatient programs). I dropped out of high-school in the ninth grade. At one point, due to anxiety, I thought that I would never have my driver's license or hold a job. Finally, I have struggled with issues of self-esteem, homelessness, gender identity, self-injury, and the overall acceptance of my mental illness.
That having been said; I have not only dealt with those things, but also overcome them. I am currently working with a great psychiatrist who has me on the least amount of medications possible. I have also finally been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. This is, of course, along with the Bipolar Disorder and Anxiety Disorder that I deal with.
Also, although I cannot go back to high-school, I am happy to say that I received my General Equivalency Diploma (GED) three months before my high school class graduated. It has been more than seven years since the last time I self-injured (with my “clean” date being 7/16/2006). I now have my license and own my own car, as well.
These accomplishments will all be the start of the many years I have ahead of me in which I will pursue my goals. In the future I see myself as having a successful full-time career. I am sure that there will be many other things that I will accomplish in my life as well.
I feel I should mention that although my traumas still haunt me on a daily basis in the form of memories I am getting a lot better at working with them and moving *through* them versus lettering them control me. I am hoping that, in a week or two, my therapist will deem me to be “an appropriate candidate” for EMDR therapy. When I say I am hopeful; I mean I could literally be brought to joyful tears at the idea that maybe, just maybe; my dissociation, flashbacks, etc. could be lessened. I am hopeful (did I mention that yet?) but, at the same time, I am not putting all my eggs in one basket. I do realize that I may not be a good candidate and/or that, if I participate in EMDR it may or may not have the results I hope for.
On that positive note, I would like to mention that recovery didn’t happen to me. I made it happen for myself with the support of many good people around me. I educated myself about my illnesses and have done my best to manage these illnesses. This means sometimes planning in advance to avoid triggers, always taking my medication (and not making excuses when I haven’t), getting the right amount of sleep, and asking for help or support when I know that I need it.
I know that if I can make recovery happen for me, then others can make recovery happen for them. Recovery is by NO means an easy road, however; it is very much so a worthwhile one!
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