School Daze!

Tammy:

So I had been sober for about two months and needed to do something, so I went to the Social Services for help, and they suggested a work program, I suggested going back to school. I was scared to go back to school since I had been bullied so badly in my younger school years, but I knew that I really needed some kind of education. So I applied and was accepted into an adult Education program. Boy oh boy was it hard for me, I always was looking down and did not interact with the other students. I was paralyzed by the fact that I really had no social skills. I did however, have a keen desire to get my teachers approval. I think this stemmed from wanting my mothers approval so badly. And boy oh boy did I get her approval. She loaded me up with homework. I was started in grade ten English, and one day she said to me, “I think you are in the Wrong class Tammy.” My heart sank I thought I needed to go to a lower class and start like grade seven or something. She told me, ” No, you belong in English 30″. The highest English class you can get in High School. I was flabbergasted, how was that possible, my formal education was so poor, how could she possibly think that I belonged in a higher class?!

My fear of being transferred to a higher class were unfounded though as it was very late in the Term and the end of the year was fast approaching. A Social Work coordinator came to out class to talk about the rewards of being a social Worker and taking the social Work program offered by the School. I really wasn’t interested in being a social Worker, but I was keen on talking to this social worker about my struggles. Because I grew up with Social Workers constantly in my life, I felt comfortable talking to them.

I knocked on his door during a free period and went in to talk to him. He had papers every were and I had to move a stack off a chair to sit across from the table. He was a really big man, and some what intimidating, but since he was a Social Worker I felt fairly safe. I began to tell him about my life, and my struggle with addictions. I told him what I was doing to try to overcome the traumas of the abuse I suffered and the subsequent addictions. I really had no idea how deeply;y rooted my issues were, but it felt good to talk to him about my struggles. He got up from his desk and loomed over me. Now i thought oh geez now I did it, he is going to put me in a psychiatric ward!! I was freaked right out. He said “Come With me!’ Oh my gosh I was so scared , but i complied, what else could i do? Run away? That was not a option as D.M made sure i knew running away was a very bad idea, since I would be caught and beaten,

He took me to the office, and all I could remember was when I got the strap in Grade one, for hitting a teacher. I was so scared! He barked at the receptionist and order to get these forms and those papers, and that number and what ever else. The receptionist looked at me with a stunned look, and I am sure I looked like a deer caught in the head lights. She handed him a bunch of forms and papers, and he looked at me and said you have to apply for the social work program, we need people like you. I was shell shocked… how could some one as messed up as me possible be beneficial to others who are suffering and in pain?! I took the papers because I thought firmly that there was no way I would be accepted into their program. I mean I was only in Grade ten and only had about four months sobriety at the time. Two of the requirements was English 30 and a high School diploma or equivalent, neither of which I had. I told him this, and he said it was ok he would arrange for me to take the equivalency test, and he was sure that I had my addictions under control enough that by the time the term started I would be ok. I was scared and elated at the same time. I feared failure, but basked in his approval and acceptance that he believed in me!

So I did take the equivalence test and got 98% on the test. I had no idea that my teacher was giving me grade twelve English 30 work in order to keep me occupied. So in three and a half months I had gone from grade ten to twelve with honors. I was astounded. This was not what I was expecting at ll! I was expecting to be in high school for at least three years, I greatly underestimated my self, and my teacher. I miss her so Much, “I think of you often Helen =).” the test was a humorous thing as I completed all the front pages, and just sat there, then something told me to turn the booklet over and oh my god there were more questions!! I hastily completed the questions with moments to spare. goodness knows how long I sat there wasting my time, waiting for the receptionist to come get me.

I got the test results fairly soon, so I thought hmm maybe I have a chance after all, since I passed this test. Another requirement was to complete a three page who am I paper. I think mine was about 12 pages long. I wanted to make absolutely sure they knew how messed up I was, and not a likely candidate for the social work program. After I dutifully completed all the tasks they wanted me to complete, I focused on my other schooling with a vengeance. I finished all the projects except one because I just ran out of time. I had two left to do, and only had time to complete one with any aplomb at all. So I talked to my Teacher and told her my predicament, she said to pick one and not worry about the other one. So I completed all the task’s and all that was left to do was to wait for Graduation. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever be participating in a Graduation ceremony!

My English Teacher was not happy that I applied to the social work program, she was hoping i would opt for journalism or writing a novel. I felt bad to disappoint her, but i found writing very difficult, because I am such a perfectionist, I would do at least half a dozen drafts before I was satisfied with the work to be handed in for perusal and grading. i really had no idea what it took to be a social Worker, since my experience with them had always been as the client never the Social Worker. However, I had no hopes of being accepted any way. So I was already looking at options I could do as an alternative. I thought housekeeping would be good as I would not have to interact with people.

The graduation ceremony was amazing, My Aunt E and Uncle R even came to see me, they were so dang proud of me, and I was proud that they were proud! I even received two awards one for excellence and one for achievement. I was thrilled!!

Summer came, and I went to work in a mill piling lumber to try and save some money for what may come in my future, I had no idea what it was but more schooling was something I really wanted to do. the mill job went horribly wrong, as I worked all summer and only got paid a months work as they went bankrupt. I was devastated, since I put so much effort into doing a good job, only to have my pay stolen by the people that hired me to do their work!

I still had no idea if I was even accepted into the program, so one evening after an AA meeting I was standing outside looking up at a starry sky. I implored the Lord, please let me know one way or the other whether they accepted me into the program. It didn’t matter to me at that point wither I was accepted or not, the waiting was getting unbearable though. I really had no hopes that they would accept me, I just wanted confirmation, so I could begin thinking about what to do next. a friend of Stanley’s came out of his house and yelled he Tammy you have a letter from Grant MacEwan Stanley’s moms house! I was stunned. Wow! Ask and you shall revive I was so shocked and very grateful! I wanted to go get it right then and there, but Stanley convinced me to wait till tomorrow to go get it, as his mom would probably be asleep by the tine we got to her house as it was already after nine pm. so we waited… did I get accepted or not? well that is another story.. lol I’m teasing! Yes I did get accepted into the social work program! I was going to college!! Can you believe it? I was stunned speechless. After it settled in that this was going to happen fear settled in. this was a really big deal to me. Things I never did before like getting student loans and what not, getting my books getting to class, the responsibilities were huge to me.

A new unknown adventure awaited me was I up for it? Would I make a fool of myself? Would I fail? The self doubt was incredibly hard to over come, and I just resigned myself to do the best I could and not worry to much about the out come. At least that is what i would tell my self. However, I have been a worrier since I was a small child, and it is a very hard habit to break. Letting go and Letting God was a constant and daily practice.

So More schooling was in my future college, I was so stunned, however, that really will be the next story I share, and boy what a ride that was!! Thank you so much for being with me on this Journey! LOVE

New Beginnings

Tammy:

After I had settled down and allowed Stanley to move more freely about the house, things began to get better. Of course I hid the ax and the gun, until he asked me were they were. I of course had to tell him, as they were his property after all. I still had a lot of trouble with his temper though. He had a mercurial temper and it terrified me. I didn’t understand that although he had a temper it was never directed at me, more often than not it was inanimate objects he got angry with. I have to laugh now when I think about it. He would hit his finger with a hammer and it was world war 3 with the hammer that offended his finger. He stubbed his toe, and the offending chair got a tongue lashing.

He could not understand why I would run and hid when ever he got angry, because he was not angry with me. His temper however, terrified me and he slowly began to realize it was his outbursts that made me shake with fear and run and hide like a little child. Slowly, but surely he began to hold his temper. I admire and love him for that, I am sure it was not easy, since it was such a part of who he was. There were times when i would do something that made me shake with unabated fear,. Like the time he spilled motor oil in the hall and i did not see it as I Trucked down the hall to the bathroom. I slipped in the oil and slid all the way down the hall crashing into the wall. I was curled up in a fetal position and though oh geez now I am going to get a beating for sure! This is what would have happened with D.M so I thought all men were like that. I did not know any man that was not abusive to me. He came rumbling in the house his big frame looming over me as i quivered in fear. He boomed out Oh My GOD! Are you ok?!! I was stunned and waited for the inevitable blows. The blows never came, instead I said yes, and I am so sorry I crashed into your wall. He knelt down, and I cringed still in a fetal position hiding my face. He gently touched me and said no I am sorry! I should have cleaned up that mess. The relief flooded through me, he wasn’t mad at me and he was not going to beat me. I began to laugh, and he thought I was crying. The more he consoled me the harder I laughed with intense relief and happiness. i was confused but happy that there was no beating.

One day he was changing the hot water heater, and left the old one on a rolling square thing, I am not sure what they call those things. It was just a home made roller, that you could put heavy items on and roll them around. Well he put the old water heater on this thing and left it right in the middle of the floor. for what ever reason I was backing up and did not see this water heated in the middle of the floor and I backed right into it! It went crashing down with me on top of it! I thought for sure, now he would beat me. He came rushing from outside, and i cringed on the floor apologizing for the accident. He was so concerned with me and apologized profusely for leaving the hot water heater in the middle of the floor, he said he was going to throw it out. He must have thought I was so accident prone. Maybe I was, it seemed like my co- ordination was all out of whack.

We went to a AA meeting almost every day, and i enjoyed the outings and talking to him about this AA stuff that he was showing me. During the day since we had no TV or radio or computers, I read the Big Book. That is what they call the book of Alcoholics Anonymous.I had some colored high lighters that I would use to high light anything that really jumped out at me. To be honest I just liked the way the colors looked lol.

We would go shopping and even that basic task I had no idea who to do. He would go around with the cart, and something would catch my eye. Usually the Dolls. I would turn around and he would be gone!! I would be terrified just like a child that lost sight of their mother, I was very much a child in a adult woman’s body. I had no idea that because of the extreme trauma I suffered that I was stunted emotionally and mentally. I did not know this was even possible, but it happens more often than not to children who have suffered abuse as small children.

Childhood abuse may stunt growth of part of brain involved in emotions

This article is more than 7 years oldThree key areas of the hippocampus in the brain were smaller in people who reported maltreatment in childhood

Alok Jha, science correspondent

Mon 13 Feb 2012 20.00 GMTFirst published on Mon 13 Feb 2012 20.00 GMT

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Depressed man with his head on his arms — Previous research has shown that people who were abused or maltreated in childhood are twice as likely to have recurrent depression in adulthood. Photograph: Rex

Being sexually or emotionally abused as a child can affect the development of a part of the brain that controls memory and the regulation of emotions, a study suggests.

The results add to the growing body of evidence that childhood maltreatment or abuse raises the risk of mental illnesses such as depression, personality disorders and anxiety well into adulthood.

Martin Teicher of the department of psychiatry at Harvard University scanned the brains of almost 200 people who had been questioned about any instances of abuse or stress during childhood. He found that the volumes of three important areas of the hippocampus were reduced by up to 6.5% in people exposed to several instances of maltreatment – such as physical or verbal abuse from parents – in their early years.

“The exquisite vulnerability of the hippocampus to the ravages of stress is one of the key translational neuroscience discoveries of the 20th century,” wrote Teicher on Monday in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

Early clues of the relationship came when scientists found that raising stress hormones for extended periods in rats reduced the number of neurons in the hippocampal areas, a result that has since been replicated in many non-human primates.

A neuroscientist explains: the need for ‘empathetic citizens’ – podcast

Other work has shown that people with a history of abuse or maltreatment during childhood are twice as likely to have recurrent episodes of depression in adulthood. These individuals are also less likely to respond well to psychological or drug-based treatments.

Douglas LaBier Ph.D.

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Why The Impact of Child Abuse Extends Well Into Adulthood

Research finds that child abuse harms mental and physical health in adulthood.

Posted Oct 19, 2013

The words “child abuse” are likely to conjure up horror stories that appear from time to time – physical beatings, a child locked in a closet or tied up for long periods; or the unimaginable – like Ariel Castro’s imprisonment of young girls. But in fact, abuse takes many forms, beyond the physical. Recent research finds that its impact is long lasting. It extends far into adulthood, where it affects both physical and mental health. As Faulkner wrote, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

But this same study, combined with the findings of some other recent research, contains hopeful signs for healing and healthy growth following early abuse.

First, consider some less visible forms of abuse, beyond the physical, that can create lasting consequences. For example, parental neglect; indifference to the child’s needs or temperament; outright humiliation; deliberate denigration. All may be fueled by the parent’s own self-hatred, jealousy, or narcissism.

Examples range from the parent who leaves a child in the car or home alone for hours. Or the parent who rebuffs the child who excitedly says, “look at my new drawing!” or “see what I wrote for this school project!” and who receives a curt, “Don’t bother me now. I’ve got to finish up this report.” Or the parent who consistently and vocally praises one child, while ignoring or criticizing the child’s sibling. And there’s the classic, “You’ll never amount to anything!” Or, why can’t you be more like your sister/brother?”

I’ve heard them all, and more. All take a toll, and this new research studyconfirms that abuse has a long shelf life. It takes a continuing toll on both physical and mental health well into adulthood. The study, conducted by researchers at UCLA and published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, examined the effects of abuse and corresponding lack of parental affection across the body’s entire regulatory system. It found strong links between negative early life experiences and health, across the board. The effects permeate one’s entire mind-body system

This study of 756 subjects suggested that “biological embedding” occurs through programming brain circuitry in ways that shape response patterns to subsequent stress. That causes wear and tear extending across multiple mind-body systems, and creates adverse health outcomes decades later. The researchers suggest that toxic childhood stress alters neural responses to stress, boosting the emotional and physical arousal to threat, and making it more difficult for that reaction to be shut off.

I was stunted and Stanley was unknowingly re-parenting me. I even imprinted on him like an infant, and would spend hours looking into his eyes, feeling a infantile comfort. There was nothing sexual about my feelings for Stanley. However, he was not to know that, because I had no way of knowing what was happening to me. He saw me as a woman, when I was very much an abused child in a adult body. I had no social skills, no functional skills that most adults have developed over the years. Were one adult may have disagreements, I had temper tantrums like a 2 year old. Literally. I did not know what was happening. I was regressing!! when I realized that Stanley was the safest person that ever came into my life, I began to regress and become the child I was never allowed to be.

Sadly, because he is a man and I am a woman he did have expectations of our relationship that involved intimacy. I dutifully completed these tasks for the love that he gave me. I didn’t know that I had choices, or options, and my chances of surviving in the “Normal” world were slim, and the chances of me being put in a situation like I had with my ex husband were high. I did divorce my ex husband D.M.

The last contact I had with him was a phone call stating that I was divorcing him. He got angry, pleaded, got angry. I was so disgusted with him, there was no way I was ever going back to that abusive man!! That was the last contact I ever had with D.M. although I did hear through the grapevine that he found another woman with a child. I only pray that he treated them both better than he treated me or the other women that he had in his life.

A friend of Stanley’s offered me a job for three days as respite worker for her two foster children. She just need some one to watch them while she cleaned her house for spring cleaning. I thought this was a novel idea hiring some one to watch your children while you cleaned your house, so I said yes. I had been sober for about three weeks by this time. It was a nightmare! The children were small,, and no problem at all, but my stress level was out the roof!! I was overwhelmed and anxious, what was happening to me?!!!

I had looked after a set of 6 month old twins and a three year old when I was 19, with minimal problems! Now I had quit drinking and I could not handle a year old baby and a three year old little boy?! I had no idea it was because of the trauma and the drinking that i was not able to function on any level of normalcy at all. I was so scared! when Stanley finally pulled up to take me home, One pant leg was up by my knee, my Hair looked like Einsteins on steroids, and my eyes were rolling like a scared horses. Stanley looked surprised and confused and asked me what happened?!!! I told him of the stress and the anxiety and the fact that i could not handle this simple task and what the hell did he do to me?!! He laughed! He really just laughed and said it was part of the process of coming off alcohol and drugs and it would pass. He said tomorrow would be better, I said there was no way on God’s green earth that I was going back there the next day, I adamantly refused, I wouldn’t even go back for my pay for the day. I told him in no uncertain terms that if he wanted my pay he would have to get it himself and explain to his friend what happened. He did explain and went and got my pay for me.

Time would pass, and things became better and worse in different ways. I started going to school. However, that is another story for next time my friends. Thank you so much for staying with me on this journey!! LOVE

The Light in my Life

So here I was at an AA round up surrounded my a multitude of people that I did not know. It was very uncomfortable for me. However I did enjoy listening to the AA speakers and the Al-anon speakers. It was good for me to hear that I was not alone, and there were others who did ridiculously stupid things in their lives and lived to tell the tale.

As I was sitting there an older man walked into the room, and I could swear he had a glow of light around him. He spotted me right away and smiled at me. I smiled back, I couldn’t help it, he just looked like a older angel, and I thought he was beautiful. He came over to talk to me and I was shy at first. I mean I didn’t know these people but I did know that they were in the AA program and probably were fairly safe.

We started talking, and as I had scanned the book of AA previously, there were some key point’s I felt I could talk about with him, as I thought that is what AA members do, and it is, they talk about the program of AA. We talked for a couple of hours at least, and then I was getting tired, I excused my self and went to look for my friend and ask if it would be ok if I lay in his vehicle for a bit and had a rest. He agreed, and I went to go have a nap. It never occurred to me to tell my new friend that I was tired and was going to go have a nap. Having never had friends it just wasn’t in my skill set to be courteous.

Apparently when I did not come back right away my new friend became very worried about me. His first reaction was to ask around if any one seen me. Apparently he got a no answer, because he then went to town to search all the bars. I guess this is what new alcoholics do when the go to a round up. (Laugh) It isn’t, but he did not know me and had no idea were I could possibly be. Me I was having a nice little nap.

When I woke from my nap I went back into the hall, and saw him sitting with some people talking, he looked so glum though. When he looked up and saw me he lit right up and had a big smile on his face. He did not even by your leave to his friends he just came rushing over to me to ask if I was ok. I told him I was and that I had gone for a nap. He looked so relived and told me that he went all over town looking for me, including the bars. I was flattered that he was concerned enough to go looking for me. I felt safe with this man, and enjoyed his attention. I felt a twinge of sadness that the round up would be ending, and I would have to say my good byes to him. He then asked me were I lived, I told him the truth that I was fleeing an abusive relationship and was currently in a women’s shelter in the town over from were we were. He looked so sad and asked me to tell him about it.

I told him of the horror I had endured at the hands of my husband. I told my new friend that it was dangerous to be with me, as I was sure that neither of us would be safe, if my husband ever found were I was. He told me that he was not worried, a little scared but he had faith that God had meant for us to meet, and he was willing to take responsibility for me. I asked him what he meant by that, and he said he was willing to protect me and give me a home if that is what I wanted. I told him I would like that very much, even though I really did not know what it meant to have a home, or to even be safe. However, I had so few options, and this sounded like a good option for me, to have a home.

I told him, that I would like to try it and see how it goes. He was very happy to hear that I was willing to go home with him and try and make a home for us. I was getting tired again, so I suggested that we leave before the dance, since it was a very long day for me already, and night was fast approaching. He agreed and said that we could come back for my clothes, and I could call the shelter to let them know I was ok. I had no idea were we were going and the further we got from the safety of the shelter the more I doubted whether I had made a good choice, or if I had made another huge mistake. When we got to a town and headed out of town I grew even more afraid. I thought to myself I am going to be killed by a stranger. I was so scared.

We pulled up too a dark one story house. It was pitch black and was very scary. He told me to wait in the car while he got the lights turned on. He came back with a camp lantern, now I was really worried. I asked him if there was any power. He apologized and said no, as the people that he rented his house too ran up a huge electricity bill and then fled after trashing his house. I was really worried now. We entered the house and the first two things I saw was a huge ax sitting in the corner by the door and a 22 gun leaning up against a wall. My heart sank, and I thought for sure I was going to die.He must of seen the look on my face and pointed to a wood stove, he said he heated up the house with wood that was why he had that ax. The Gun he said as he went to a back room to put it away, was for hunting and protection.

There was glass all over the floor, and he explained that the former tenants had busted the window out of the door, and just left it for him to clean up, he said he only just came back a couple of days ago, and had not had a chance to clean up the glass, as he had to pull up all his rugs as they were ruined and smelled very bad.

I was so tired so I went to the couch and laid down, he pulled up a chair at my request so I could keep an eye on him. I was so scared I did not want to fall asleep, but I knew I could not stay awake, I was so exhausted from my ordeal then the fright of coming home with a stranger. I asked him if he had a bed and could I sleep in it with him. He said yes he had a bed and he was very tired too and would like to go to sleep. So he showed me were he slept and it was an old fashioned single iron bed. I thought oh geez, well at least I can keep an eye on him in such close quarters. I told him I wanted to go to sleep but please do not touch me. He said, that was fine he had no intention of doing anything that I was not agreeable with. Poor man that must have been torture for him. Every time his foot or any part of his body touched me I would tighten up and try to get closer to the wall.

The next day, I got up surveyed the mess , and began to clean it up. He seemed very happy about that, but stated that he had to go to work, and I would be by myself all day. He said he was worried to leave me alone. I told him I would be fine, and preferred to spend the day alone any way. Apparently he was most afraid that he would come home and find that I had committed suicide. He said he was so scared those first few weeks that he would come home and find that I hung myself or something.I knew that suicide was a real fear, as I had family and friends who committed suicide, and he did too. So I could empathize with his fears. As for me I spent my days cleaning and exploring the sheds out back. I found a queen sized bed, in good shape stored in one of the sheds and proceeded to drag it back all the way to the house and set it up in the bed room.

It was summer, so it was beautiful weather, and I was content, although I was struggling with my alcoholism. I didn’t want to be an alcoholic! It was hard, it was painful, and it was depressing! I would spend many many hours talking to my friend Stanley about this and I even learned how to drive, as he taught me to drive to take my mind of off drinking. I spend hours driving the back roads, sometimes he would sleep, while I just drove. It was fun, even when I got us lost, I didn’t worry because I knew Stanley would get us home safely. Things were falling into a pattern and for the most part I was happy. I still had issues with my ptsd and fears, but I will talk about that later.

I am going to be away for a few Days as I have some medical issues to take care of I will be back on the 26 though, and will be writing as soon as I get home, as I am sure I will miss talking to you all!! No worries though it is just a consultation for some gall stones that are causing me some pain, it is not nothing to worry about. so until next time my friends LOVE to you all.

Shadow of Death

Tammy:

Even though I had left my abusive husband, I certainly was not out of the woods yet. The most dangerous time , is after a woman has left. I am certainly not saying stay in a abusive relationship because leaving is dangerous. what I am saying is be aware of everything even after you left and are in a safe place. I learned this when at the shelter in Fairview. Which was unlike the experiencing I had at the former shelter I had previously stayed at.

The crisis workers at the Fairview shelter were engaging and genuinely concerned about my well being. They checked in with me often, and were always available to talk if I needed to share what was happening for me at any given moment. I even made a friend of a woman that was there for reasons other than abuse, but she and I still had much in common as we both suffered from an addiction.

I shared, with the crisis workers and my new friends that I suffered from alcoholism. they were shocked and said I did not look like I had this issue. I am not sure what an alcoholic is supposed to look like, but I guess I didn’t fit the stereotype of a female alcoholic. I Did not let this deter me from the truth though, the truth being that I was an addict and needed help with my addiction. I talked my friend into attending an AA meeting with me, even though she was not an alcoholic. I just did not have the courage to attend the meeting by my self. One of my fears was that my abusive husband would be there. Although, why would he be at an AA meeting is beyond me. However, I was just so terrified of him, that I assumed he could be any were, and this was not a bad thing to be hyper-vigilant since he was only a few miles away in Brownvale on the Indian Reservation. The chances of running into him were quite high.

This fist meeting went quite well, I was all dressed u and looked presentable. My friend supported me through the meeting, although, I didn’t really share much at this first meeting. I Did however, meet my Dr at this meeting. Dr. Snider. Dr.Snider saw me and put me on Prozac to help me with my PTSD and Depression. I didn’t realize at the time I was suffering from great unresolved traumas and this was affecting and effecting my life in ways that I did not understand.

The second time I went to the AA meeting, I went by my self. They had these wooden chairs and I was wearing a dress with nylons, and I slid right off my chair into the lap of the man sitting next to me!! I was so embarrassed! Everyone was so kind, no one laughed and all pretended like nothing happened. Being such a sensitive person I really had to struggle not to run out of the room, and embarrass my self even more. However, I sat through the meeting with no further incidents. I truly felt I was on my way, however, I had a slip when a man asked me out on a date and we drank. i felt so terrible about it but Dr. Snider said start again kiddo you will make it!

I knew I was not going to be able to stay in Fairview, as it was just too dangerous and the chances of running into my husband was just too risky. I really had no idea what I was going to do or were I was going to go, so I prayed about it again.

Dr.snider asked me a few days later, if i would like to attend a AA round up with him and his wife. I had no idea what a AA round up was, but it was a AA event so I said yes I would like to go. I found out later that AA round up’s are hosted by the AA groups of whatever Town or city is hosting, and AA members from all over come to attend. It was amazing, so many people though! I really do not do well with big crowds so it was some what overwhelming. However, the speaker meetings were very comforting and inspirational.

On the way to the Round up Doug, Dr. Snider said the most odd thing to me. He said” do not feel ashamed if you find a nice man there and want to go home with him”. What an odd thing to say, I laughed but said ok I will keep that in mind. I certainly was not there to look for a man lol.

I enjoyed the round up, and yes I did meet a man that was to be a integral part of my life, and someone who supported me through some very dark times, and shared some very good times. I would like to talk more about him in the next segment though , sorry friends you will just have to wait for that, I am sure you will enjoy it though .

Dr. Doug Snider, was very influential in my introduction to AA and AA round ups. He also became a very good friend and confidant. It pains me greatly to say that he was taken far too soon from his family, and the people he cared for, myself included. I miss you greatly, even after all these years Dr. Doug Snider =(.

Canada

Alberta doctor guilty of killing colleague

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CBC News · Posted: Oct 07, 2000 8:49 PM ET | Last Updated: October 7, 2000

A jury has found a northern Alberta doctor guilty of manslaughter in the death of his colleague, whose body has never been found.

Dr. Abraham Cooper, 61, was charged with first-degree murder in the death of Dr. Doug Snider, a fellow doctor in Fairview, Alta.

After deliberating for three days, the jury found Cooper guilty of manslaughter late Friday night.

Snider, 59, disappeared after he told his wife he was going to a meeting at Cooper’s clinic on May 5, 1999. His body has never been located a fact the defense argued means he may still be alive.

Although Cooper admitted he didn’t like Snider, he denied ever killing him suggesting that the missing man is in hiding, hoping to frame him for a crime that never took place.

Snider’s family gasped out loud when the jury’s verdict was announced.

“The defence strategy was to paint out our father as some kind of monster,” Snider’s son, Darren, said outside the courthouse. “If truth be known, our father was gentle, kind, caring, but above all else human.”

“As for Abe Cooper, desperate men do desperate things.”

Defence lawyers had argued that Snider was an alcoholic who faked his own death to build a new life for himself. They said Snider ran away because he was also afraid of losing a lawsuit Cooper had filed against him.

But the Crown pointed out Snider had no reason to frame Cooper or to leave his loving family. It said Cooper’s reasons for wanting Snider dead are clear.

The medical community shunned Cooper and revoked his hospital privileges. Cooper believed Snider was part of a conspiracy against him. He filed a $3.2-million lawsuit against Snider and three other doctors in Fairview, claiming they were conspiring to ruin him.

The Crown told the jury Cooper forced Snider to confess to being a part of a conspiracy, killed him, and disposed of the body.

But the Crown says Cooper botched the murder by leaving evidence behind. Snider’s blood was found in Cooper’s clinic and in his car.

Cooper will be sentenced Oct. 11. A manslaughter conviction carries no minimum sentence but there is a maximum term of life in jail.

It seemed to me that any one who tried to help me always were taken out of my life one way or the other, I was having a hard time trusting any one. Dr. Sniders death was a real blow to me, as he was so influential in helping me , and to lose him in a violent manner, just reinforced for me that the world was a very dangerous and unkind place for some one like me. I shut down even more.

A moment of silence for my Friend, mentor, and guiding hand when I needed it most…. DR.Doug Snider. …….Thank you.

LOVE

Fighting the Good Fight

Tyra:

Living on my own gave a sense of well being. No one there to take advantage of me, no one told me what to do, and I did not need to put myself in situations that may cause me pain. What a change from my previous life. This is when my relationship with food came into play.

Food was my only true friend I thought. When we would have the good stuff to eat I would eat it all so my boyfriend would not eat it on me. This lead me to eat all the food I can so I would not go hungry. I did not like the hunger pains that came with not having food, so before my boyfriend could eat it all I would eat it cause I was just so scared that I would not have enough to eat. Then this one day when I asked why he would eat all the food, in my mind he was, he always said to me “there is more in the store”. I never though of it that way as I did not have abundance of food that I did not have to worry about. I always wanted to make sure if I wanted something that I would get it out of my cupboards, not the store. This became a hoarding problem. I would spend my extra money on food to just have in my cupboards, and if it was running low my mood would decrease. I did not understand where my depression was coming from during my early years. Today I realize that yes there is more food in the store and I do not have to hoard all the food I can for a rainy day.

Then the cycle of comfort food came into my life. I would eat and still today eat for the comfort that it gives me, and not just when I am hungry. I begun to gain weight steadily, and I just could not control myself. I would get angry with myself for eating so much that bulimia set in. If I would eat too much and felt uncomfortable I would make myself throw up. If I felt like things were out of control I would throw up. It started to take over my life, and I did not want anyone to know. I hid this from my boyfriend also. It was not hard hiding it as it would only really happen when I was at home. The effects still haunt me today. As I do get the urge to vomit when I feel things are out of control, or that I just eat for comfort. This cycle is like an addiction where you feel awful, then you vomit and it feels all better again. You know you should not be doing it but you do it anyway. I always thought that if no one knew what I was doing it was ok for me to continue. Then came the times that I would gorge myself with my boyfriend while out on a date and wonder how do I not let him know what I am doing, so came the times that I would over eat and not be able to vomit, this lead to me gaining even more weight causing my self-esteem to lower even more. The more I would gain the lower my self- worth was lowered.

As a young adult I did not realize that over eating was a addiction but it is. Eating for comfort is an addiction like any other type of addiction. I prided myself as not having an addiction to alcohol or drugs, like my older sister, but the consequences of my food addiction were just a dire. No one ever knew that I had this problem till now, as I am writing this blog. I was ashamed to have this addiction and the weight gain that it caused. At first I thought that I would be able to loss weight with bulimia but that is not always the case. You have to be doing it consistently to loss weight, I would just do it when no one was around to notice I had the problem. I would watch movie and interview with individuals with the same problem and did not think mine was a issue as their disease was so much more advanced. No matter how often or to which degree, this is a disease that needs attention, this lesson I would learn later in life after the damage has been done. By the time I realized what I was doing to myself I had gained 60 lbs in 2 years, along with being bulimic during times of great stress. This disease still comes and offers its ugly head to me at times even today.

One day I got this phone call from a man asking for Jackie, mom. I told the man that she had passed away 2 years ago and asked who this was on the phone and he hung up. Down deep I believed it was Harvey asking for her but did not get the chance to ask his name. Even if my mom was alive I would not have given him her number if I knew. I did not want him back in our lives at all. After everything that we had been through with him, he had the balls to call and think I would give him her number. If mom was alive I knew deep down that she would go back to him, even though he caused more problems than his worth. I resented just the thought that she would go back to this horrible man. I resented that she would let him do the horrible acts of abuse to us and say that they did not happen. Why would I give this man the number, to cause more heart ache and pain. That would be the last time that I got a phone call asking for our mom from a male caller.

Tanya and I were really close and she came to visit me in my apartment. I had to go to work and left her there to rest. My boyfriend had his own key so when he came home he could get in. After work I took the bus home, and when walking down the street to the apartment I had a strange feeling that something had happened. I knew that he had cheated on me with Tanya. I don’t know how I knew but I did. When I walked into the apartment I asked what had happened and noticed that Tanya had given my boyfriend a bunch of hickies on his neck. All she could say to me was “I had to prove he was not good enough for you.” I just could not believe that my sister would do this to me. What did I do to her for her to hurt me like this? What did I do to him to hurt me like this? I did not know that it was her insecurity that was causing her to be provocative with my boyfriend. Does this give it as excuse to hurt me? No, but this would seem to be a problem through out our younger years what she needed the approval of men for her to feel any self worth. I just could not be promiscuous like Tanya, she had no remorse for hurting me she thought what she had done was just fine, she wanted me to break up with my boyfriend so she could have me do what she would like me too. I did not realize that she was so manipulative, and it affected all the relationships that I had with people. I never did forget what she had done and the effect it had on me, even to this day, I wonder if she would attempt to seduce my husband.

This was the first time that I felt betrayal since the betrayal of our mother. Of course I had to break it off with my boyfriend that really hurt me, he was the only one that I told everything to, the only one I really trusted. He was the first male that I was not scared of, that would not take advantage of me the way the men took advantage of me in my childhood years. I couldn’t kick Tanya out as she had no where to go and after all she was only 15 years old when this all happened. So Tanya stayed with me for a few more days then went back to Stacey.

During my time away from my ex-boyfriend I went to a party at Tracey’s, a friend. They all were drinking just like me and then I past out on the sectional and their cousin with a cigarette lite on other part of sectional. I remember prior to falling asleep asking him to make sure that he put his cigarette out before he passed out. I still do not know what made me wake up but I did in all the smoke. I ran upstairs to get everyone up, I thought the cousin was dead as the smoke was going right up in his face and did not want to deal with it. Tracey came down and moved him off the couch and took him outside for fresh air. Tracey asked why I did not move him I just said “I don’t know”. I honestly thought that he would be thankful for me waking everyone up but that was not the response that I received. I know deep down that I saved everyone that day. If I hadn’t woke up we all would be in heaven now.

After a few weeks I had gotten back together with my boyfriend and life was good. He made the promise not to do such a thing again, and I believed him dearly. I missed him, I knew if we were together I would not have been in the situation with the fire, then I thought, what would the consequences be if I was not there. I would have had to go to a funeral where I had lost 3 people I adored. So I think the break up was ment to be so I could save them from the smoke that was coming up and may have been a silent death.

Graduation day came for me. I was so excited. I bought myself a new dress and heals to wear for the convocation. It was black and white frilly on the bottom and lace on the top, to me it was beautiful. I invited my dad to come and see me graduate and all he could say to me was ” ya you graduated but now what are you going to do with it?” . I was so hurt by him saying that I just came up with “I don’t know”.

Convocation was a big deal for me as I was the first to graduate high school, from both sides of my family. I could not have been prouder of myself. I assumed that my family would be just as proud of me also, but I just go the what you going to do now??? statement that hurt me deeply. I questioned “why can people just not be happy for me? why do they need to be so negative about the my accomplishment.” It seemed that the only people that were happy for me were the ones that were part of my life through homes that I lived in, and of course my siblings. Hearing my name called to walk up to the stage made me teary eyed as no ever expected me to graduate because of the life that I came from. Walking across the stage to receive my diploma was a time I will cherish for the rest of my life. It was a statement saying “I did it even with all the adversity I had to go through”. “I did it against all the odds against me”, and the most important at the time was “I did it on my own”.

Image result for inspirational quotes for bulimia nervosa

Shattered

Tammy: Some images and content may be disturbing in the extreme for some readers please care for self first.

So here I was back, with a man that professed to love me while beating me black and blue. How did I end up in this situation, and more importantly how do I get out. I could feel myself slipping away to a place that even I would not be able to reach. even the drinking was not helping, my mind was shutting down and I could not think clearly or make rational judgement, lucidity was becoming just a pretty name, not a state of being for me. I was drowning, and no one could save me because it wasn’t water that was killing me, it was my own mind.

The harshest prison is the one that you can never escape; yourself.

Since D.M had come though unscathed from my trip to the hospital when he split open my chin, it emboldened him. I think he felt he was untouchable, and I suppose he was since he had abused so many women before me an it had gone unaccountable for or punished. I was just one among the many, was I going to be one of the lucky ones that get away. I was fast losing hope that this would be the case. I drank even more than I normally did, I was terrified that my days were fast drawing to a close, and I felt helpless to stop my time from being stolen from me. I even considered killing him, but that was not really an option. I not only didn’t have the nature of a killer, I was afraid to defend my self, so how could I kill any one in cold blood? I couldn’t. However, I knew with out a doubt that he was capable and probably would murder me.

I walked on hot coals constantly, egg shells didn’t even come close to describing the feelings I had when with him. Hot coals is a more apt description. the night things came to a head was one of pure terror and horror. We were drinking, which is enough to set him off on one of his wild tangents, about me wanting to leave him. It wasn’t going to leave him, it was “Wanting” to leave him now that set him off. This man had a mind sickness beyond belief.

He didn’t slap he punched, I remember him punching me in the head and seeing stars and thinking I can not pass out because if I do, he will surely kill me. what went through my mind was the time I was sodomized and beaten by a drug dealer, and thinking I can not lose consciousness because if I do he will surely kill me. the terror just coursed through my body, this was going to be another one of those very bad beatings that would put me out of commission for at least a week. I really had no clue as to how bad it really was going to be this night…

He slammed me up against the wall punching me in the stomach, and it hurt so much, I fell to the ground, I knew I had to get up though because if I stayed down he would start kicking me. I just tried to protect myself the best I could as he rained down blows on me.

I was so terrified, I ran to our bathroom, and the only thing that went through my mind was what happened when I ran from my mom and locked her out of the bathroom. I got it twice as bad when I did that to her, and it was not going to be any different with him. I didn’t lock the door, I just hoped he would cool off and leave me alone in the bathroom. I was wrong he came in wielding a broom with a pink plastic cover over the bristles. He started swinging this broom at me and the more I ducked the harder he swung until he made contact with the right side of my face. I remember looking into his eyes this whole time and just seeing utter hatred. he was the epitome of a misogynist.

The plastic part of the broom made contact, and I recall a shooting pain, seeing starts then blackness… my last thought was I am going to die tonight….and I am going to not see my 26th birthday…

I woke up in our bed, my body was hot, and ached all over. I went into the bathroom to see the damage. there was blood every were. Before I even looked at myself I started cleaning up the blood, to try and stave off another beating. If I left the mess it could set him off. Only he knew what set him off, and I don’t even think he knew. after I was done cleaning up all the blood, I then looked in the mirror. the damage was substantial, I had a loose flap of skin hanging, that needed stitches buy I tried to fix it with band aides as I knew there was no way he would take me to the hospital looking like this. I recall the insane look in my eye, and feeling no pain, just disgust that I could not fix my face and the flap kept falling down. My mind was truly broken, shattered into shards, some which I do not believe I would ever find again.

He put me in the bed and told me to stay there, he knew something was seriously wrong, and as the days passed I got weaker and weaker, and the side of my face puffed out to the size of a basket ball. I was slowly dying and I didn’t even have the strength to care or even try to save myself, I was done trying to save myself. D.M’s Father came to the house, I do not know why or who got him to come. I think maybe it was D.M himself, but I have a hard time believing that. I am not sure how many days had gone by but i knew it was a few. I was slipping in an out of consciousnesses.

His Father Took me to the hospital emergency room, and left me there. he did not stay to answer any questions. I do remember vaguely Donald was there, probably to make sure I didn’t say anything to implicate him in the savagery he inflicted upon me. however, even he left when they said I had to get cleaned up to asses the damage.

I remember looking up at the doctor as he worked on my face, and asked me what happened. I just gave the standard answer that D.M always said to say. I fell and split open my cheek. He called me out on the lie and said “I know you are lying”, as said “I am pulling plastic shards out of your cheek as we speak!” the biggest piece was just over half an inch in length. there was about even or eight shards in all embedded into my shredded cheek. He then went on to say”If you waited a day or two more I would have had to remove half your face!” My shame knew no bounds as I looked at the disgust in that Doctors eyes.

I was in the hospital for a little over a week and a half. they had me on intravenous anti-biotics and fluids. I remember going for a smoke and people staring at me, well my face since it was so terrible to look at. I felt like a morbid curiosity. I tried to stay in my room as much as possible, as sometimes people would say incredibly cruel things to me , when they realized whet happened to me.

The only two people that came to see me were the police and my Aunt Eleanor. the police came to take my statement and take pictures, then they told me that they would be charging D.M with assault and battery. I told them I didn’t want to press charges I just wanted to get away from him. They said I didn’t have a choice as it would be the police that were laying the charges not me. My Aunt came to see me and asked if she could put lotion on my legs. I said that was fine. Forgetting that my legs were on big bruise, including the top of my feet. when she pulled the covers back the look of horror and sorrow on her face was apparent. My shame burned me to the core, although I didn’t know why I was the one who should be ashamed, I didn’t do this to my self.

Going to any of my family was not an option, I was not willing to put them at risk, so i was thinking of were I could go. The women’s shelter I had stayed at twice before was no longer an option either. I wasn’t aware of any other shelters, the only option I could think of was to go to a friends house and hope that I could figure out what to do while I healed. It was a good thing I was thinking of a place to go, as the Dr. came in a couple days later and asked me if I had a place to go. Not a safe place, just a place. I said yes. Hr did not offer me any resources or even mentioned a shelter. People failed me time after time, and my ignorance was not bliss, it was killing me. I stayed at my friends place for three days, then went to the store for cigarettes, that is when D.M and his friend along with his girlfriend found me on the street alone, hurt and afraid. I thought abut running into the store and yelling for help, but people failed me so often before I was afraid to even try and save myself for fear that it would just be worse. D.M got out of the car and told me to get in. I obeyed what else could I do, I was in the most dangerous predicament of my life.

We drove around for a while then headed back to the house were all the beatings took place, I was so afraid that he was going to kill me as soon as we got into the house. He didn’t however, instead they pulled out cases of beer and a bottle of whiskey and some pot. i was hoping the pot would make him sleepy and I would be able to escape somehow when he passed out. I didn’t want to drink, but he got mad when I said I didn’t want any so I drank what he gave me, him always pushing me to drink more and faster. being weak already it didn’t take much to get me drunk, and because I was friends with my Husbands friends girlfriend it was not that bad of a time, and I was able to relax a little bit.

A couple of days went by without incident, then he went to work and while he was gone a pane of glass that he had taped up to keep it from falling apart fell out of the window frame. My whole body went cold, I just knew with a certainty that the sky was blue and clouds were white, that I was going to die that night. I got down on my knees and prayed to God that he please save me and show me the way out of this hellish nightmare. i was stunned that night when D.M did not lay a finger on me, he hardly even looked at me. That night i slept soundly, which was very odd and I had a dream about Fairview. Fairview I didn’t know any one in Fairview.. I also dreamed about child welfare, which was odd as well since I did not have any children. for the first time in my life Child welfare was going to save my life and I didn’t even know it.

I called the band hall and asked to speak to the Child Welfare officer, and he came on the line i told him of my predicament, and that I needed to get out or i was going to die. Could he please help me. He thought for a couple minutes and then said to be ready to go in 15 minutes, after he ascertained that D.M was not there and was not going to be there for at least a couple of hours.

I raced to the bed room and felt under the bed for a small suitcase we had, instead of a suitcase, I pulled out a large ax that was on top of a couch cushion. We did not have a wood stove , nor did we have a fire pit. The ax looked new. I did not want to contemplate why he had bought an ax. I didn’t have too I knew I was looking at the weapon that he was going to use to murder me with, probably while I slept beside him.

The child welfare officer pulled into the drive way and I ran out with nothing but the clothes on my back and my life. I wanted to live and with Gods help and guidance I just might have a chance. I jumped into his truck and I asked him were he was taking me. I said”you are not taking me to that shelter I had previously been to are you.” He said Fairview…I was shocked, I didn’t even know Fairview had a women’s shelter. He said” I am taking you to a good place, with good people who will help you.”

I was safe, I could now begin picking up the broken pieces of my life, and deal with issues and my drinking. I had no idea who I was going to do this, not understanding how broken I really was. all I knew for sure, is that I was never going back to D.M. I do not know how he found out were I was but he began calling the shelter, and sometimes the workers would be so scared they would cry. I knew I was not safe there, but I had no were else to go. however, I put my faith in God and I will talk about were he took me in the next segment.

Thank you for sticking with me on this journey, I know it is difficult for me and I am sure it is not easy for you, but it is so worth it to feel that healing knowing I am no longer alone. Thank you Thank you . plewase forgive any speling errors or typos was trying my best to get this out =). LOVE

Broken 2

Tammy:

“I’m falling apart , I’m barley breathing, with a Broken heart that is still beating”. Lifehouse

Life is a mystery, we are so fragile, yet so strong, but how much suffering did to take to break me?

By the time I realized that D.M was not genuinely sorry, it was too late, I was paralyzed with fear, and leaving was no longer an option. something had to happen that was more fearful than the pain and suffering he was causing me. Was that even possible? I thought that things would be so much better when we got married. I was wrong, and like so many other abused women, I found out the horrific truth that it only gets worse, never better. Another contributing factor to abuse becoming worse is a woman getting pregnant. I was unable to get pregnant, so I never had to deal with the horror of trying to save not only my life but the life of a child.

D.M got our marriage certificate, saying No was not even a option. I was so afraid that he would murder me. My sister who is a R.N told me that when her kicked me with his cow boy boots on and made me loose control of my bowels I was lucky he didn’t kill me, as he so easily could have. she explained that were he kicked me he could have broke it and I would have died from internal bleeding. did he know that? I think he really didn’t care on way or the other. Even if he murdered me he would play the grieving victim, and I would be just as dead.

He invited his best friend and his girl friend to the simple ceremony. I was so nervous I had hoped the clergy man would have refused to marry us. However, that did not happen, and I felt powerless to stop the wedding, knowing if I did he would have beat me and no one would have saved me. I could not help my self from laughing hysterically, this was a nightmare, how could this be happening?! I was losing what little sanity I had left. Once the marriage ceremony was complete, my fate was signed, sealed and delivered. That is what I believed. I suppose it is what he believed as well as the beatings became more horrific and frequent. I would have bruises upon bruises, and no part of my body was off limits, including my face.

Like the cycle theory shows, the frequency of the episodes get shorted and shorter, until such a time as it is just constant abuse. This is a critical and very dangerous time, as this is when most women are murdered by their abusers. I didn’t know this, all I knew is that every day I was being slapped, punched, kicked, hit with objects, sworn at, cussed out, told I was worthless, a slut a whore. We were married and there was no honeymoon stage. I was horrified and stunned. After the wedding ceremony he went to the bar and sent me off to play BINGO. Seriously I didn’t want to go play BINGO but that is what he wanted so really what choice did I have? It was humiliating, as people asked why I was so dressed up, and I had to tell them I just got married, and my new husband was in the bar drinking , while I played BINGO. We were to be married for a total of six months, all together I was with him for two and a half horrific years.

It was very clear to me that the people on the reserve considered me Donald’s property, and I had no one I could turn too, as many of the women on the reserve were also being savagely abused. when he would leave for work, I was ordered no to leave the house, or he would know. apparently he had the doors rigged so that if they were opened the tape on the outside would be broken. The only reason why I knew this was his dad came looking for him and I opened the door to talk to him. I seen the tape flapping and put two and two together and my blood ran cold. Of course I did get a beating for that because I broke the rule and opened the door to the outside world while he was not there. It did not matter that it was his Dad who was at the door, I was not supposed to open the door.

I did wonder why some one who seemed to hate me so much wanted me around? I was confused. I was trapped, being help against my will, and I had no one to rescue me. During this time there was changes being made to the law, were women had to level chargers against their abusers, now the police were laying the charges, whether the woman wanted to lay charges or not. Abused women knew that charging their husbands was a very dangerous thing to do, since they did minimal time, basically enough time to really piss them off and give a hellish beating to the abused woman.So it is no wonder that many abused women will lie and hide the abuse, in the hopes that the beatings will stop or not be as violent. However, this is never the case. If there is a woman who reconciled with her abuser and formed a healthy equal partnership, I have yet to hear about it. Some women probably say they are the exception to the rule, if this is the case with a woman who has been abused by her partner, and is now in a healthy loving relationship built on trust, then wow you are really an exception to the rule. However, I was not willing to bet my life that I was an exception.. would you?

Like I did with my mother, I did with my husband I would clean up the evidence of his abuse. Instead of empty bottles, I would clean up my own blood of the walls, the floor, from the sink and the tub. there was so much blood! Sometimes he would use objects to hit me, like whisky bottles, pans wooden spoons, switches of a willow tree. One time he hit me with a fanny pack and the zipper cut open my chin and I had to go to the hospital for stitches. he told me to tell them I simply fell and split open my chin. As I had never been to the hospital before , they accepted this lie. I felt so broken when they sent me home with him, I so desperately wanted to say something. I guess all the bruises and the split chin was indicative of a very bad fall. One nurse however, wasn’t letting it go that easy, and confronted me. I told her what happened and she made arrangements for me to go to a shelter..

This was my very first time in a shelter and I was scared out of my mind. I was there for four days before I finally said enough was enough. They did an intake with me, filled a bunch of forms and left me to my own devices. The workers sat in the office chatting and gossiping with each other, as I sat there in front of a tv trying to put my mind at ease, and heal my body. The entire time I was there none of the staff approached me to see how I was doing. They would pass by me and look at me as if I was some interesting specimen and then carry on with what ever they were doing. Needless to say, I could only take so much of this and just walked out the front door and left, no one even tried to stop me.

Did I expect more? Yes I did, having grown up with social workers, case workers, counselors and therapists, I expected they would at least talk to me and see how I was doing. At least check and see if I was suicidal.. they did none of this, they pretty much ignored me. I was truly shocked at the treatment I was receiving. These people who worked with abused women were anti productive when it came to trying to save women’s lives. If anything, they took away any hope I had of building a new life. Maybe it is better now I do not know. I just hope that any women who were or are treated like I was are able to stay and get away from their abusers. I would now ask for a transfer, since I am more aware of what shelters are supposed to be like. However, at the time I didn’t realize I could ask for a transfer.. I had no information at all. They never even went over the cycle theory of violence with me, which is standard of all shelters.

I really had no one to turn too, so going back to my husband seemed to be the only option open to me. So I called him, and he came and got me. For once he was really kind to me, and I thought hey maybe this time away was not such a bad thing after all. It was a false though, inside he was seething!!

For the next week however, we had a great time it was warm and we had been hanging with his friend and his girl, drinking. Until the night that his friend started beating his girlfriend I realized, that abuse was so prevalent and I was not going to be getting away from it any time soon. I went to the same shelter that I was in the first time again, after a particularly bad beating, however, it was the very same treatment, and I ended up leaving, with it firmly ingrained that all shelters were like this, and I wanted nothing to do with them. I just felt shamed and humiliated, and worthless by the way I was treated.

Again I went back, it is not uncommon for an abused woman to leave her abuser multiple times before finally being able to break free. The average statistic is seven times. there are a lot of factors that go into a woman leaving her abuser, the least of them not being the danger and fear.

Statistics:

Intimate partner homicides

80%

of victims in police-reported intimate partner homicides in 2014 were women

Spousal murders

26%

of all women who are murdered by their spouse had left the relationship

Dating violence

60%

of all dating violence happens after the relationship has ended

Lack of reporting

70%

of spousal violence is not reported to the police

The National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 1-800-799-7233 or 1-800-787-3224 En Espanol

Leaving is often the most dangerous time for a victim of abuse, because abuse is about power and control. When a victim leaves, they are taking control and threatening the abusive partner’s power, which could cause the abusive partner to retaliate in very destructive ways.

Aside from this danger, there are many reasons why people stay in abusive relationships. Here are just a few of the common ones:

Fear: A person may be afraid of what will happen if they decide to leave the relationship.
Believing Abuse is Normal: A person may not know what a healthy relationship looks like, perhaps from growing up in an environment where abuse was common, and they may not recognize that their relationship is unhealthy.
Fear of Being Outed: If someone is in an LGBTQ relationship and has not yet come out to everyone, their partner may threaten to reveal this secret.
Embarrassment or Shame: It’s often difficult for someone to admit that they’ve been abused. They may feel they’ve done something wrong by becoming involved with an abusive partner. They may also worry that their friends and family will judge them.
Low Self-Esteem: When an abusive partner constantly puts someone down and blames them for the abuse, it can be easy for the victim to believe those statements and think that the abuse is their fault.
Love: So often, the victim feels love for their abusive partner. They may have children with them and want to maintain their family. Abusive people can often be charming, especially at the beginning of a relationship, and the victim may hope that their partner will go back to being that person. They may only want the violence to stop, not for the relationship to end entirely.
Cultural/Religious Reasons: Traditional gender roles supported by someone’s culture or religion may influence them to stay rather than end the relationship for fear of bringing shame upon their family.
Language Barriers/Immigration Status: If a person is undocumented, they may fear that reporting the abuse will affect their immigration status. Also, if their first language isn’t English, it can be difficult to express the depth of their situation to others.
Lack of Money/Resources: Financial abuse is common, and a victim may be financially dependent on their abusive partner. Without money, access to resources or even a place to go, it can seem impossible for them to leave the relationship. This feeling of helplessness can be especially strong if the person lives with their abusive partner.
Disability: When someone is physically dependent on their abusive partner, they can feel that their well-being is connected to the relationship. This dependency could heavily influence their decision to stay in an abusive relationship.

The same reasons why women , leave can be why women go back as well. There are also other reasons , I will mention a couple.

BATTERED WOMAN SYNDROME: Psychiatric Times

BWS has been identified as a subcategory of posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD).⁸ Although not all battered women meet all the DSM-IV-TR criteria for PTSD,⁹ a sufficient number do; thus, a form of trauma treatment is most helpful.¹⁰

Table 1 lists 6 groups of criteria that recently have been found to be part of BWS.⁸

DIAGNOSIS

A number of steps will help you obtain accurate information when you are interviewing a woman whom you believe may be abused by her intimate partner (Table 2)BATTERED WOMAN SYNDROME

Table 1 lists 6 groups of criteria that recently have been found to be part of BWS.⁸

DIAGNOSIS

A number of steps will help you obtain accurate information when you are interviewing a woman whom you believe may be abused by her intimate partner (Table 2)

Conditions Necessary for the Development of Stockholm Syndrome

Four conditions identified by Graham and associates as necessary precursors for the development of Stockholm Syndrome in victims of domestic violence are as follows.

The victim perceives a person threatening her survival. The threats may be physical or psychological. It is not important whether others view her survival as threatened, but rather whether she does.
The victim perceives the abuser showing her some kindness, however small. For example, the kindness may be that for one day out of the month he does not abuse her.
The victim is isolated from outsiders. This isolation may be physical—she is not permitted to have contact with family or friends—and/or ideological—she is permitted exposure to only the abuser’s perspective.
The victim does not perceive a way to escape the abuser. Batterers use violence to help ensure that their partners do not leave them.
If you are working with a battered woman or have left an abusive relationship, researching these topics may help you in your healing and determination to build a new life for yourself and your children if you have any.

One of the most prevalent things I felt aside from the fear was shame, I felt and believed something must be very wrong with me if I am being abused by a man who professes to love me. it cause me great shame that, I was being abused, because he no longer tried to hid it from the public, in fact sometimes it felt like he was parading me around showing people what he had done to me. He had no conscience or qualms about being apprehended by the law. He felt in total control and he held all the power.

I left this man a total of three times, so far it has been twice. The third time was absolutely horrific in nature, so I will talk about that in the next segment, as I gather up the courage and strength to talk about it. Thank you so much for taking this Journey with us! Your very presence helps heal both I and my sister and for that we thank you whole heartedly!! LOVE

Broken

Broken by: LifeHouse

Tammy:

As I mentioned before I met my ex husband when I was still with my so called boyfriend. Of course I met him when we were drinking. I knew nothing of this man, and no one shared with me anything about him. He was a native man from Duncan’s Indian reservation. Which I was to find out later was notoriously violent and dangerous. I did marry this man and became a Moostoos, by marriage.

I remember the first time I ever met him I was sitting between him and my boyfriend, and I do not know what provoked him, but her reached across me to hit my boyfriend and hit me instead, giving me a bloody nose. I of course was very upset and wanted him to leave. He apologized profusely and said he did not intend to hit me. It didn’t dawn on me to be indignant that he tried to hit my boyfriend. However, by this time my boyfriend was messing with another girl and I really had no love for him at all. In fact I really did not like him at all. and when I wanted to lay down if he was in the bed I would hoist eight draw dresser we had over my head and hurl it at him. I would just have these bouts of rage, fleeting, but very dangerous, since I lost all reason, in those brief moments. fortunately they were rare, unless I was drinking, then I would be too drunk to really cause any harm, at least that is what I told myself. Fortunately for me, I never harmed any one physically in my drinking days. I think of some of the things I did when drinking and cringe with shame and regret.The day I knew it was time to leave my “Boyfriend” was the day I was in the bedroom, loaded a gun and closed the bedroom door. I called my boyfriend and when he opened the door he had a loaded 22 leveled right at his head. All I said was “It is Loaded”. We stood there for a couple minutes, then I said shut the door, and leave me alone. That is exactly what he did, but the fear in his eyes I will never forget, I had no right to cause that kind of fear, I wasn’t even mad at him, I was cold, unfeeling, I was shutting down. Was I finally broken?

No, I was not Broken yet, more horror was yet to come my way, unbelievable horror.

My soon to be husband had a girlfriend at the time, so I was just friendly with both of them. Unbeknownst to me his current girlfriend was desperately trying to get away from him, and it seemed that I was a good substitute to take his mind of her and onto me. She was so afraid of him, that she was willing to sacrifice me to save her own life. I guess in my world that was acceptable.

Trigger Warning: Content may be Graphic and distressing to some readers caution advised.

She did end up leaving, and he pursued me relentlessly, bringing me booze just so I would let him in. By this Time I would not see any one unless it was to drink with them. I was just isolating myself was so ashamed of my drinking when I was sober. I even tried to gas myself,with our gas stove. Reason kicked in and I thought what if some one lights a cigarette, I will blow up every body, not just myself! I thought well I would just do what our Great Grandmother did and drink my self to death. Easier said than done, it is a slow painful death. I was 22 years old at this time, and felt my life was over, and could not understand why I was still walking this earth! This should have been a time when I had the world by the tail and was living life to the fullest, yet here I was trying hard to drink myself to death. I rarely suffered Dt’s because I always had booze readily available, and my soon to be husband came by at least once every three days.

During this time I did not have any contact with my siblings, again I think the last time I saw them was when I went to see them at our moms funeral,so about two years had passed by again. This was normal for our broken family. I do not even think I realized that other families did not go so long with out seeing, or talking to each other. For us this was our normal. When I look back on it I am grateful that there was such limited contact with my family, as the man I was going to marry turned out to be extremely dangerous.I did not realize this until it was to late. I will call him D.M, to make it simpler on me to write.

The day I went with D.M was the beginning of summer, was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. It was also, the first time I had been out to Duncan’s Reservation. There was a house party going on were he was staying. The people there were fun and kind, I had no idea the wolfs den I was walking into. That early summer, D.M and I had a lot of fun, drinking together and getting to know each other. My Ex boyfriend moved on with the girl he had been messing around with while I was with him. Things were ok, while we were living with his friend, no one ever said anything to me about D.M, they all seemed happy for him. They did mention that his previous girlfriend had left Alberta, but that was the only mention of her. however, I did hear later on she died in a car accident, I really hope this is not the case as she was young and deserved a happy life. I feel bad if she did die, after being abused by this monster that I invited into my life.

The first time he ever hit me, we were drinking and I said something that upset him. I do not remember what I said, however, I knew I could say mean things when I was drinking, so felt maybe I deserved it. We were outside in a camping trailer on his friends property, as we were going to stay in that for the rest of the summer. He just reached across the table and slapped me with an open hand, it Really didn’t hurt, it just surprised me. I hit him back quite hard and yelled at him. then he slapped me again this time hard enough that I didn’t try to push the issue any further. I just got up and started to walk away, I really had no were to go but I sure as heck wasn’t staying with a guy that slapped me! He caught up to me, which wasn’t to hard since I was wobbly, and he pleaded with me and told me he was so sorry and would never do it again. At that time I believed him, gave him a hug, told him it was ok it was my fault for saying what ever I said that set him off. Taking the blame for abuse, was a recurring theme in my life, since I was little, and this was no different. It was what I was trained to do, comfort the abuser and take the blame.

We spent the summer in that little trailer, and although there was a few more instances of abuse, it was never bad enough that I ever felt like it was him and not me that was at fault. I had no idea that I was getting caught up in a cycle that was going to spiral into a hell that I never even knew existed, in all of my young adult life. I always thought that when I became and adult no one would ever be able to hurt me again. I was so wrong.

The Cycle of Violence was quite clear the longer I stayed with him, and the shorter the intervals between the stages. The honeymoon stage was when he was repentant and sorry, and would be so kind to me. It was those times that I really wished he would be like all the time. The tension building is when nothing would please him and he was critical of everything, it was at these times I felt like I was walking on egg shells. The acute explosion stages when he would beat me, and over time the beatings became progressively worse. They cycles also got shorter intervals in between as well. Which is typical in a violent relationship.

That fall we moved into an apartment in town, and although he would still hit me, it wasn’t bad enough that I felt I had to get away. He even got me a kitten, that I absolutely adored. I didn’t know at the time it was just another way to keep me in line, as I could not very well leave my kitty to his abuse. That little kitty loved me too, she would climb up me to sit on my shoulder, I just loved her, I called her “Baby”. That sweet little kitty, was killed by DM. I did not know until later in life that this was a serious issue. Not only because any one who would kill an innocent animal was disturbed, but also because, it was a indication that he would have no remorse killing me.

That spring we moved back to the reservation, and things really got out of hand. We moved into a small little house, on the reservation when his name came up on the list for housing, The drinking happened any time we had money, and it seemed like we were always able to find money for alcohol and drugs. He liked to smoke pot, I didn’t but would once in a while just to please him, I would. Sometimes we would get into fights and he would start beating me. Looking back now I see they were not fights at all, it was a more powerful person torturing and harming someone who was less powerful. One time he told me he was going to scald me with hot water and pluck me like a chicken. I knew things were getting bad and I wanted out.

I lower my eyes not only so you can not see my pain, but also so I can not see your distain. Tammy 2019

One time, out of the blue, he just calmly said fine, go. By this time my cat was dead. I think he killed it out of jealously. I will never know for sure, why, just that he killed her. I started down the drive way, then started to jog, then started to run in earnest, I thought I was really free!! I had nothing but the clothes on my back and no were to go, but I didn’t care!! I was free. I looked behind me and saw him running after me, I started to run faster, he caught up to me with ease. He grabbed me by my long hair and yanked me off my feet, and proceeded to drag me down the long gravel drive way, by my hair, like a cave man. The gravel cutting into my back and legs and buttocks. My head banging on the road, chips of gravel embedding into my scalp. Once he dragged me back into the house he simply said to me “Go!” Meaning leave again, he was such a twisted person. My heart sank I knew the truth, I was trapped and there was no way he was ever going to let me go. I had zero love or compassion for this man, all I had was fear of him, and with good reason.

I began to drink even more, which he liked as it made easier to manage, sometimes I would black out and wake up with puffy bruised eyes and bruises all over my body from a beating. The one saving grace was I didn’t remember the beating, and if I died during the beating I would have seen it as blessing. However, he didn’t just beat me when we were drinking he would beat me when we were sober as well.

I remember the phrase kick the shyte outta some one. I always thought that was just a saying, but it is not. One time during a sever beating, he kicked me in the stomach area with his cow boy boots, and my bowls literally let go with that kick. It wasn’t the fear that did it, it was he kicked me in just the right spot that it loosened my bowls enough that I defecated myself. During these beatings I never cried, or screamed or nothing, I just accepted that this was what my life was meant to be, and that I was forever going to be abused. I went to the bathroom cleaned my self up and went to our bedroom to lay down and begin healing in preparation for the next beating. The incredibly illogical reason he gave for beating me was that he was scared that I was going to leave him! What a crock of shyte. Sorry but sometimes thinking about this makes me so angry.

There was no time that was safe, drinking, not drinking, even sleeping was not safe. sometimes he would rip off the blankets and start whipping me with this long thin, flexible plastic cord he had. He would say he had a dream that I cheated on him, or was going to cheat on him, and his “Native ” blood gave him the power to foresee this. This man was insane, but all his actions were coldly calculated. He would , wake me out of a dead sleep, with a beating and I would scream at him what did I do?! He wouldn’t tell me until he was sweating with exertion. I just retreated into my mind that place, were no one else was allowed to come. It got to the point were I no longer could sleep properly, and would only sleep when he was outside, or gone to work at the reservation plant. You might be asking why not leave when he is at work. I tried twice,and got a sound beating, the third time the beating was so bad I could not walk for a week.

D.M was the epitome of a Misogynist, and his abuse was not just relegated to me, if any woman displeased him he was not afraid to cause her pain. People were very afraid of him, including the police, who refused to come out and help me the two times I called for help. They asked were I was calling from and when they found out I was at D.M’s place they refused to help me. I never thought of filing a complaint, because I did not want D.M to know I called them!

We had a little hole in the ground for a cellar under the house, and he threatened to put me down there with the spiders and bugs, I was really scared of spiders, Thank fully he only threatened to put me down there , but I think it was only a matter of time before he actually did put me down there, dead or alive.

Hunting was a very prevalent way we used to feed our selves. I remember the first time that he told me to come hunt with him, of course I didn’t have a gun.. I really do not know how to shoot nor have I ever shot a gun, I’m actually scared of guns. He made me walk in front of him, I don’t know whether it was he wanted to instill fear, probably, or because he didn’t trust me, probably not. My skin felt like it was crawling on my body, I was so sure he was going to shoot me in the head and say it was a hunting accident. Because the law enforcement was scared of him, it probably would be swept under the rug. I mean after all who was I, just a 24 year old drunk, not of any importance really. Because’ I did not have contact with my family, they would probably never know that I had been murdered, if they even found my body that was.

He used to go in to great detail how he would cover up my murder. One way was he had a friend that was a butcher. He said he would get this friend to let him in to use the meat grinder. He would hack me up and grind up my body and sell me to the public as hamburger. Sick Bastard that he was I believed him. He also said he would feed me to pigs as they eat every thing. Another way was he would bury me in a gravel pit that was not longer in use, and they would never find my body, and even if they did he would be either to old to care or long dead himself.

There was a white boy that had a young child with one of the reservation girls that was at a party one night. apparently he was flirting with some ones sister and the brother took offense to it.He stabbed the 24 year old young man 27 times. I was not at that party, but I heard about it from the others. The man that stabbed that young man to death got five years, D.M laughed while looking at me and said “I could do five years standing on my head…” The message was loud and clear to me.

The longer I stayed the worse things got, one would ask how could things possibly get worse, well they did. After I married him thinking that by marrying him it would assuage his fears that I would leave him, and the beatings would stop..That is not what happened, but I will talk about that in the next segment.

No one ever wakes up and says I want to be an abused mentally ill Addict =(

Thank you for bearing with me, this content was disturbing for me to relive with you, but it was also healing , so thank you for bearing with me! Your support means so much to me!! LOVE

I am in the arms of a angel

Tyra:

After leaving my siblings behind I was plagued with guilt. There were several times that I was considering going back several times. I would go to bed and cry myself to sleep because I just missed them so much. We would visit and I would not want to leave them but I knew deep down that it was the right thing to do. I needed to spread my wings and fly on my own.

Starting school in such a large school was scary for me coming from a small town. I enjoyed the small town atmosphere, where you knew everyone, and everyone knew who you were. In a large school you are left with the students that you are in class with and that is pretty much all. I did make some great friends at this school and still friends today.

I knew I had to take school seriously if I wanted to become someone, so I tried my best. I was living with the sister of Dick’s and she was a alcoholic also. She did work and after school I would be home before her and have to have my chores done. It really made me angry that I had to do chores and her daughter that was 19 years old did not have to do any. After a few arguments I just did them it was not worth all the tension. I did enjoy my stay there, even though it was brief. I lived there from September to Feburary.

During my time there I did have friends and did go out to see them. This one day I went over to my girlfriends place and she and a guy friend were drinking. I did not drink, I was scared of the consequences. When it was time to go home Dick’s sister came and picked me up. She said that I was drinking and I could not live with her anymore. I did not understand I told her I was not drinking, I even said smell my breath, it just was not good enough and I was on my way to my cousins place to live.

Thank goodness was all I was thinking that I had somewhere to go, I believe in divine intervention and this was one of those times. I moved into their small house, I had a room in the basement. I hate basements but did not complain. I had a big bed and was happy to have a place to stay. It was difficult though, as they had 2 young daughters also. I tried to fit into the family but it just did not seem to work.

It wasn’t long after I moved in with the family that mom died. All that ran through my head was I predicted it 6 months earlier, did I cause this to happen. I was in shock and could not believe that I was right in my prediction. I felt like I was cursed to have this knowledge of her death. Then again it may have been my guardian angel telling me to be prepared. I can say that now but back then it was difficult to put it is perspective. I also was thinking how could she do this to the kids, they are going to feel so lost. Where do we all belong now? At least when our mom was alive we knew where we belonged, even if it was totally dysfunctional. Now I really was on my own in this big world, wondering where it was going to take me.

Going to the funeral was a shocking moment for me. I wanted to see mom in the casket, and Tammy came with me. I wanted to see her one more time. It was painful to do but I knew I would regret it if I didn’t. I already knew that she died of a drug overdose, but I did not realize how old she would look. Looking at her in the casket was surreal for me. She did not look like the mom that I knew. Her hair was grey, and she was wrinkled like a old woman. I still to this day can see her there. She did have bruises on her neck I am not to sure where they came from, and she was in a grey outfit. What a symbolic outfit for her life, there was no black and no white, no good and no bad in her life. During her life she did not say sorry for anything that had happened to us, and it seemed that she did not have any remorse. I just could not understand why she would do that to us, and not acknowledge the effect it had on us and our little family. All that I knew for sure is that it was too late for the “I am sorry” as she was dead, and going into the ground.

Going to the burial is the worst part of the funeral I think. It really is the last place that you say your good bye and know that you will not see them again in this life time. I think I was numb, but I will never forget the pain Tammy felt that day. When the casket was going into the ground she was crying and screaming, totally lost control of her emotions. Our aunt holding her tight just let her cry and scream for what felt like a life time. After the casket was at the bottom of the grave Tammy calmed down and we all left the grave yard. I do not recall what happened after that, I must have blacked it out even to this day.

I had a boyfriend and my cousin did not approve of this young man. It was always an issue between the two of them, they just locked horns. I even had my own phone line in the basement where I would talk to my boyfriend for hours until I would almost fall asleep. This one day he came to pick me up and my cousin and her family were not home. My boyfriend and I went for a walk around the school, when we came back towards the house we saw my cousin running into the house. We knew what she was thinking, and we laughed until we got to the house. I looked at her and asked if there was a problem and she said no. I always had respect for other peoples places and their rules, but she did not trust me. I did not want to have sex in that house it just did not feel right. It felt forbidden, and it was.

At the end of the School year, my cousin stated that it just is not working out staying at her place. She found me a place to go where I paid rent for a bedroom and that was all. I went to this town house and there was a lady there with her husband and daughter. All I could think was where the hell am I, and how could she do this to me. This family had animals and were not the cleanest people out there. The husband reminded me of Harvey with his grey hair and beady eyes. Thank goodness I had my boyfriend still and he would pick me up and take me away from this place. Also I was not there very much either cause I was working to support myself. I knew down deep that if I wanted to make it I would have to get a better paying job, but none came up that I could do while I was finishing high school. I thought that I may have to stay with these people while I was going through school, and was prepared to do so as a last resort, then the bomb shell came. They were moving to a town outside Edmonton, now what do I do. I need to finish high school, so I asked a friend if I could stay with her and her family until I get enough money ahead to get a place of my own. Thank goodness relief raced through me as her parents said yes.

I had to wait till I turned 18 to apply for social services to support me to finish school. During my waiting time i spent it with my friend and her family. The tensions started to get high when I realized that my friend was going out with more than one guy. She was seeing a lot of guys and I only knew of her boyfriend from school. This did not sit well with me at all, and told her to tell her boyfriend or quit seeing the other guys. The problem was that her parents did not know about the boyfriend at school. I knew I had to do something and I was going to quit school and get a full time job. The mom of my friend took me to the job and sat me down along with the boss and said “she needs to finish school and she can not do that if she is working full time.” Basically she quit the job for me, and said that I could stay with them until social services are able to help support me. This seemed like forever, I just would stay down in the basement, you know how much I liked them, but still wanted to be by myself. I basically ended up coming home to sleep, and that was all. I would spend my evenings with my boyfriend, and my days were at school. The tensions were getting higher by the day I just was not able to take the pressure, I was about to blow if I did not get out of there.

Finally my 18th birthday came and I was looking for a place to live. By the middle of the month I had found a small bachelors suite, big enough for me. I did not know how I was going to do this but I knew I had enough money from social services to pay my rent and my job could pay the rest. I’m not saying that it was easy just that I had a plan in my head. The first weeks I slept on the floor with my boyfriend as I could not afford to buy a bed. I did not mind as it was my place and no one could take that away from me except myself. I went to school and worked my way through school. I spent 2 years in that apartment and enjoyed every minute of my life there. My boyfriend and I had a good life. He had his job with his father and I worked at my job, he would always pick me up from work and go out for coffee. I couldn’t ask for things to be better.

“The Dis Ease of my Life”

Tammy

After our mothers death, I continued to work and try to save money so I could move to British Columbia, Penticton, Vancouver, and be with my Uncles. However, my addiction got in the way of that plan and I got Drunk instead and met a guy that I eventually moved in with. I never even particularly liked the guy he was just a place to sleep and drink. I never really bonded with any one due, to the way I was raised. My Drinking was really just going from bad to worse. I was only 21 and already I was having Delirium Tremens.

Dictionary de·lir·i·um tre·mens/dəˌlirēəm ˈtremənz/noun

a psychotic condition typical of withdrawal in chronic alcoholics, involving tremors, hallucinations, anxiety, and disorientation

Delirium tremens (DTs) is a rapid onset of confusion usually caused by withdrawal from alcohol.^[2] When it occurs, it is often three days into the withdrawal symptoms and lasts for two to three days.^[2] Physical effects may include shaking, shivering, irregular heart rate, and sweating.^[1] People may also see or hear things other people do not.^[2] Occasionally, a very high body temperature or seizures may result in death.^[2] Alcohol is one of the most dangerous drugs from which to withdraw.^[5]

Delirium tremens typically only occurs in people with a high intake of alcohol for more than a month.^[6] A similar syndrome may occur with benzodiazepine and barbiturate withdrawal.^[3] Withdrawal from stimulants such as cocaine does not have major medical complications.^{[7]: Wikipedia}

I would drink so heavily for as long as by body would take it, then I would not be able to drink for three or four days, because of being so sick, and thus would end up going through Delirium Tremens. I would hallucinate and see things swooping at me and I would get so scared, and it was awful. I would shake uncontrollably, my sheets would be literally soaked with sweat. Like some one poured buckets of water on the bed. i really had no idea what was happening to me, and i also did not know that I was in danger of dying for the DT’s I didn’t even know that’s what they were. Friends would bring me beer, and it would calm me down. I think they knew more about what was happening to me than I did. i really had no idea that I was a prime candidate for korsakoffs either.

What is Korsakoff’s syndrome?

Korsakoff’s syndrome is the most well-known form of ARBD and many people think that it is the most common or even only form. However, Korsakoff’s syndrome is much less common than other forms of ARBD such as alcoholic dementia.

Korsakoff’s syndrome often develops as part of a condition known as Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome. This consists of two separate but related stages: Wernicke’s encephalopathy followed by Korsakoff’s syndrome. Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome is diagnosed in about one in eight people with alcoholism. However, not everyone has a clear case of Wernicke’s encephalopathy before Korsakoff’s syndrome develops.

How does Wernicke’s encephalopathy develop?

An encephalopathy is a disorder that affects the function of the brain. Wernicke’s encephalopathy usually develops suddenly, often after abrupt and untreated withdrawal from alcohol. It has a range of different symptoms, but they may not be obvious and it can be difficult to make a diagnosis.

Symptoms of Wernicke’s encephalopathy can include:

disorientation, confusion or mild memory loss
undernutrition – for example, the person is very underweight
involuntary, jerky eye movements or paralysis of the muscles that move the eyes
poor balance or unsteadiness, or other signs of damage to a part of the brain called the cerebellum (a region involved in co-ordinating movement).

If Wernicke’s encephalopathy is suspected, immediate medical treatment is essential. The person will need high doses of thiamine (and other B vitamins) injected slowly into a vein. If treatment is done in time, most symptoms will be reversed in a few days. However, permanent brain damage may result if Wernicke’s encephalopathy is left untreated or is not treated properly or in time. In some severe cases the person may die.

How does Korsakoff’s syndrome develop?

Where Wernicke’s encephalopathy is untreated, or is not treated soon enough, Korsakoff’s syndrome usually develops, though often gradually. Damage occurs in several regions of the brain – particularly in important small areas deep within the brain, resulting in severe loss of short-term day-to-day memory. Many other abilities may remain intact, such as working memory (information held in our head for a short time before using it, eg working out how much something costs). Excerpt From Alzheimer Society It is really important to remember it is not how old you are, it is how much and how often you sue that causes the development of Alcohol related debility. Remember Alcohol is “ONE” of the “MOST DANGEROUS” drugs to withdraw from. It does not care how old you are if you become addicted to alcohol you have a serious problem, like me.

Because I was old enough attaining alcohol was not a problem, and I could find men to buy me all the alcohol I wanted or could drink. For a price, of course, but I already knew that nothing in life was free, especially me.

“Girl takes a Drink, Drink takes a Drink, Drink takes a girl.”

When I drank I was such a mean drunk, it was always that way with me, what made it worse was that I would black out drink. That meant when I drank I was not in control of myself, how scary is that!!
Usually, a person’s BAC must reach 0.14 percent – almost twice the legal limit – to induce a blackout. Can You imagine drinking that much Most people can’t even walk at 0.8 which is legally drunk! Alcoholics metabolize alcohol differently though. they do not even turn it into sugars like normal people they turn it is to a substance called Tetrahydrosoquinlin, which has been likened to a heroin like substance. Do not fool your self into thinking that if you are a normal temperant drinker that you could not start drinking heavy and turn into an alcoholic, you can. Like a good friend said “a lot of us alcoholics started out as cucumbers, and ended up pickles. To bad once a pickle always a pickle.” Stanley Roberts Grateful Friend of Bill W. Stanley will be very influential later in my life but that is a different segment =).

My friends did not like to drink with me, or would drink just until they were drunk then they would go home, and I would drink till I passed out. More like fell unconscious. They would tell me that I had a heart of Gold wen sober, but was a real hellion when drinking. When I drank all the unresolved abuse and issues would coming pouring out, so yea it was ugly. However, some men didn’t care as they would just take advantage of me when I was passed out. I only drank with a couple of men that I knew, and rarely went out with a strange man. I didn’t have any special attachment to these men, they were just a ready supply of alcohol.

The man I was with messed around with other women, and honestly I really did not care. I didn’t want him for a sexual relationship, he was simply some one I drank with and passed out with after we drank our fill. He was as much an addict as I was, and really wasn’t capable of caring for any one, even himself. However, neither was I. Not all the drinking was gloomy, I suppose if it was I would not have drank so much or so often. However, there were fun times too. I would get dressed up for a night out on the town and would not black out, and have a really good time, dancing and joking. flirting with cute guys and just going home and waking up feeling fine the next morning. however, as my drinking progressed those fun times became far and few between.

I did hold down job when I was drinking but usually they would only last a couple of months. those were the times when I was really trying hard to quit drinking, on my own, since I really did not know of any other place to turn too. I had been introduced to AA when I was in the psychiatric hospital when my mom was still alive, however, no one reached out to me and me being the way I was I sure the heck wasn’t brave enough to reach out to them! Needless to say those times I tried failed. I would get drunk and quit my job. I just wasn’t capable of holding down a job, I couldn’t be around people with out drinking it paralyzed me with anxiety. It would be ok if I threw myself into my work, but I would over work myself and burn out. No one ever tried to pace me or tell me to slow down, which is too bad they just took advantage and gave me duties no one else would do. Nice huh. I know they didn’t know I was mentally ill, but I am and because of that I was taken advantage of far to often. I was pretty good at faking being ok, but inside I was a mess, and I was only going to continually worsen.

I was drinking with some people and they went out side to smoke some pot. I never liked pot it always made me paranoid, but when I was drinking it didn’t really have any effect on me, so I went outside with them to have a puff. I didn’t see the cop behind me when I took the joint, and he busted me, real ass of a cop to be honest. Never had a criminal record in my life and I get busted for something I didn’t even do on a regular basis or even like doing for that matter. I was so mad! It was a misdemeanor but it still went on a criminal record.

I got a call to go to work out at a camp for three weeks, I agreed to go, and gave my boyfriend a withdrawal slip and told him to take out enough to pay my fine, and some for himself and leave the rest. The fine was 250 dollars, jerk took out 2 Grand, left me with 1600, when I got out of camp. I should of known but, I had enough for a good drunk and my fine was paid, so I took off and went partying with out the dick head. Hope he and that girl he was messing with had a good time on my dime.

We went to visit a couple of friends of his in a little town next over from Peace River. I was drinking that night he was smoking pot with his friend. Me and his friends wife were drinking a bottle of wine as she really did not drink hard stuff. I switched to hard stuff after a while because I am not really a wine drinker. It was still winter and lots of snow on the ground. My boyfriend and his dad did plumbing together so there was always loose tools in the back seat of the vehicles. This is a bad thing, put your tools in the trunk. At that time the seat belt law was not in effect yet, so we never bothered with our seat belts. However, on the way home I took off a bulky jacket i was wearing, and out on my seat belt. I looked over at my boyfriend and asked him if he had his seat belt on. He just said no and put it on. It was so odd because we never bothered with seat belts before. About five minutes later we rolled. A big pipe wrench in the back went through the passenger window, just barley missing my head, and shattered the window. I followed behind as my seat belt did not tighten up like it is supposed to. Later that year they recalled all the seat belts on that make and year of car… I went out on the first roll. I flew about 40 feet and landed with a crunch in the fetal position. I guess you instinctively do that if you are going to die violently. That’s what the Dr. told me. The emergency technicians, thought I was already dead, so they attended to my boyfriend first. they almost jumped out of their skin when I lifted my head to ask if the driver was ok. They told me he was fine, and I lost conscious again. They took me to the hospital were they cleaned me up as best as they could the whole right hand side of my torso was scrapped away from the glass of the shattered passenger window. My clothes were shredded.

Being in the hospital is not really were I wanted to be, I had a strong aversion to any institution, which is understandable. I stayed one night, then slowly and painfully made my way to the phone to call my Aunt E to come and get me. She did come and I told her what happened. I said I just needed to rest. I stayed with my Aunt for a week, then made my way slowly back to the apartment I was staying at with my boyfriend. He dam lucky he was by himself because pain or not if I went through all they shit, and found him with another girl I would have killed them both. it was bad enough he walked away with out a scratch, and I almost died, and he did not even bother to come to my aunts house to check on me. The relationship was quickly coming to an end, I hated him. Before I was indifferent, now I hated him. He had absolutely no remorse for the pain I was in. I suppose that is why addicts do what they do they are so numbed out they can not feel anything even joy or happiness.

We moved out of the apartment, to a place down my the river and kitty corner to the museum. That is were I was to meet my Ex husband, and my drinking was to become even worse than it already was. However, that is another segment , so for now I will thank you for holding my hand during this painful telling, and gather up my courage to go even deeper into the dark, thank you for coming with me… LOVE