I recently got back from a trip to New York, a five hour drive (from Maine), which was huge for me!
I suffer with agoraphobia, meaning I have a hard time leaving my house for any duration. Five minutes is hard enough, you can imagine how hard A WEEK was for me.
BUT, alas, I DID IT! I successfully left my house for a vacation and managed to have fun!
Not only did I have fun, but so did my son, here is a picture of him playing with his cousins in the sprinkler on one of the hotter days.
He had a ball and I was so happy I overcame this hurdle and was able to experience this with him!
Anxiety and panic disorders are very real and can feel like a noose around your neck, but I promise- with a lot of work and effort, YOU CAN FREE YOURSELF FROM ITS HOLD. It doesn’t have to be a life sentence. You can overcome your fears a little at a time. Baby steps, just remember baby steps. Small victories lead to even bigger victories (before this trip, I was only able to be outside of my house for 15 minutes at a time). Don’t let yourself be held down by anxiety. Fight for your life back!
Thanks for being there for me, The Band. I don’t know where I would be right now without you guys!
Hey guys, I just wanted to share with you how helpful this site and community has been for me. First off, I finally have an outlet for all of the emotional pain and suffering deep down inside. Thank you.
This site has also helped me find the strength inside I never knew I had. I have had to face some horrible things while writing posts on here but I feel so much better afterwards. And the comments, they mean the world to me.
With my new found strength, I have decided to finally follow my dream of becoming a writer. I have a million stories swimming through my head at any given point and I am finally going to do something with them. Thanks to you. I never had the confidence or strength to want to do something with this dream but now I do. I am currently working on two books at the moment and I couldn’t be happier. It is stressful and aggravating at times but I am happy! It is finally happening!
So thank you, The Band. From the bottom of my heart.
I have not had an easy road. My mom had a lot of mental health issues that she didn’t deal with properly, so I, as an only child, was usually the target of her screaming, anger, and hatred. My father was there mostly as disciplinarian, but at least I felt like he loved me.
As I got into my teens I searched for attention. I was always looking for male companionship to boost my self-esteem. At age 15 I met, dated, and lost my virginity to a jerk that was a year older than I. He was my first boyfriend.
After we broke up, I started being pursued by a guy friend from school. I’d always thought he was fun to be around and he seemed the warm, friendly, protective type. One day he showed up at my house and asked to take me out, but his idea of “taking me out” was to take me to his house where he had been drinking with some friends who were a couple. I guess he was just looking for someone to be his drinking/sex partner for the night. I’m guessing that my ex-boyfriend had done a good job letting others know that I had willingly slept with him.
Sex with this guy was disgusting. He really just wanted oral sex and plied me with beer until I consented. That was my first experience with it, and I was so disgusted. I felt really used when I realized that he didn’t really “like” me like I had naively thought. I don’t really remember him taking me home. That bad experience got worse when he started spreading rumors around school, claiming I had done more things with him than I actually did.
There was another guy I worked with at a local fast food place, and things were just as bad there. He would alternately flirt with me, and yet urge on a co-worker who was treating me badly. This other guy would grab my chest or shove me around. He seemed really angry, and I was scared of him. I was also afraid to tell my manager, because he was a favorite of hers.
Not long after all of this, I also dated a guy that was 23. I thought an older man would be more mature, instead he was controlling. I ended up breaking it off with him on New Years Eve. I promptly started dating a guy that I’d had a crush on at work. He was 21. And he was a little weird. We dated on and off for a few months. When I broke up with him for good, he started stalking me and mailed me this crazy letter along with all the drawings I had done cut up into little pieces. My mom had to change our phone number because he wouldn’t stop calling.
About a month before I turned 17, I was invited by a friend to stay the night at her house. Our plan was to sneak out the window, after her parents were asleep, to go to a party at her boyfriend’s uncle’s house. This was a small, ramshackle house in a very, very small town out in the country where no cops would interfere with the underage drinking.
I remember sitting by the fire listening to Zeppelin (that probably shows my age), drinking beer and smoking weed. Somewhere along the line the guy that had spread rumors about me showed up. He immediately sought me out. Maybe I sought him out. I’m really not sure. My self-esteem was so low that if anyone was friendly to me I loved the attention in spite of past offenses.
He had brought a bottle of whiskey and I remember adding this to six or seven beers I’d already had. I went into another room and started talking with the older brother of another friend. He was a very nice guy. I’d always wanted to hang out with him, but again, my low self-esteem told me he wouldn’t like me. The alcohol told me he did.
Some time later the uncle barged in and accused us of having sex in his house. We weren’t, ironically. The guy was always a real sweetheart. I can’t blame him for what happened next.
We all went outside. One of my friends was sitting in a chair by the fire. He talked me into sitting in his lap, and I remember drinking some more. I remember kissing him. I also remember him trying to put his hands down my pants and me telling him to stop. I remember trying to pull away his hands.
After that, all I remember is waking up on the wooden floor of the dining room wearing nothing but my t-shirt and some shorts that were too small. I smelled like vomit, so I stumbled to the bathroom and washed my hair.
I had no idea what had happened. I think I was still drunk. I laid down by my friend’s boyfriend because I couldn’t figure out where anyone else went, and he was like an older brother figure. When he woke up, he asked me if I remembered what had happened. I said, no.
My friend showed up and told me what had happened. Apparently, when she came in the house, she saw me laying there with just a shirt on, so she took her shorts off and put them on me. I kind of put two and two together and so had she. After she found me she freaked out and told her mom that I had been raped and her mom called my parents. My dad was on his way.
To make matters worse, she had also called my crazy ex-boyfriend and he showed up and demanded that I get into his car. It got a little intense, so I decided to just go, because we were making a scene. We drove about a quarter mile away where we fought for a few minutes. When I demanded he take me back to the house, he refused to let me out of the car. My dad pulled up just as I punched the guy as hard as I could.
The ride home in my dad’s truck was the longest drive of my life. Total silence. When I got home, my mom left me to take a bath and actually let me go to bed in piece. Any other time she would have delt out punishment in the form of chores, criticism, and lack of sleep. I guess maybe she felt sorry for me. But said something I’ll never forget, “Well, that’s what happens to girls who sneak out to go to parties.” It was just a done deal after that. Life went on. I never forgave her for that.
I had a nightmare of a boyfriend after that who got me pregnant. At age 18, I had my first child. Six months later, I met my husband. It’s been a series of ups and downs with him. Fifteen years of drug addiction, two more children, and some domestic violence. I turned to dancing at topless clubs when I was 23 to feed my drug addiction. Working in the bars made me think that I was in control of the men, but it was just a farce. It made me feel more degraded and used. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to overcome that feeling.
In 2000 we moved to a different state. I halfway tried to get my life together, but I couldn’t fight the addiction. In 2006, I lost my mom in March, and my dad in May. It was somewhat expected, yet unexpected at the same time. I have always struggled with depression, had attempted suicide once seriously and one half-heartedly, but losing my parents sent me into a downward spiral. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to pull out of that one, but I did.
In November 2007 I got on my knees and asked God to forgive me and to help me get clean. As of today, I’ve been clean six and a half years. I still take anti-depressants off and on, and I struggle with depression and anxiety.
Last year I was diagnosed with Rapid-Cycling Bipolar, Type 2. Fun. Good times man. I’d like to be doing better than ok, but I’m working on it. That is what led me to The Band. I saw an article on Rosa Parks which mentioned a rape trial that she helped defend. In the process of reading about the trial, I realized, not for the first time, that I really need to deal with my past. A Google search for help dealing with date rape brought up this website.
One of the first things I saw mentioned was agoraphobia. Yeah …I haven’t been able to go outside or leave a door unlocked when nobody is home in a very, very long time. At 40 years old, I depend way too much on my kids to do things like call people or go in the store with me. It really sucks, and I’m tired of being a prisoner in my own home. A prisoner of my own making. If I get really depressed I have a space between my bed and the wall that I can lay down in that’s nice and dark and secure. My past is affecting me to the point that I’m not enjoying my life anymore.
I’ve decided to go back to counseling, and I am determined to work on this. It can’t get any worse. It has to get better. It has to.
Both of my parents are narcissistic. I was their golden child, which was terrible for me. My whole life, I suffered with guilt because I love my sisters and could see how my parents were neglecting them. I punished myself for having more than they did. I gave all of my money away to my mother and sisters. My life was crap. I worked like an animal my whole life, and have absolutely nothing to show for it, no money, no family, no life, nothing.
Since my breakdown, I realized that my sisters had something very important that I don’t have: they can deal with our mother. They don’t fear her. They just lived their lives with a normal sense of what was right or wrong. Since I found The Band and others sites, I can see why. I recognize that I have suffered the most damage of all of us. While my sisters live their lives, I am in a kind of limbo. They have their children and their experiences while I just struggle for acceptance and survival. I could never relax and have peace. I feel like I have gone nowhere, like my life was a black box. I was not there.
With a crazy, engulfing, malignant mother I could not breathe. I could not rest. Nothing was ever enough, she always needed more. She was never satisfied unless my life was miserable from all of her complaints, from drawing all my energy, making me feel bad about everything, and destroying my self esteem. She poisoned me with her “misery.” My mother had tried to give me her roll taking care of my sisters. I was just a child! All the manipulation and loss of myself eventually made me sick.
It hurt me a lot that she could never ask me how I was doing. One day, I confronted her. I told her she was never there for us, and she gave us no more love and care than if we had been houseplants. She wouldn’t look me in the eye when she answered. Her excuse was that she was always working. While yes, she did work a lot, she was also out having fun, partying like hell! She had plenty of friends, was engaged in politics, and was out all the time, but she wants me to believe her life was a mess because of us. Motherhood was a burden for her.
For the first time in my life, I had the courage to confront her with questions. I didn’t ask her everything I wanted because I was still afraid of her, but that was still a big step. She changed the subject right away, telling me she needed money. I could not believe it! That’s the way it always is with her, she wants my money. Seeing how I have no money, I’m useless.
For four days, I was so upset I couldn’t sleep. It felt like she had grabbed my insides and ripped them out. It took me several days to recover, and I was sure I never be able to face her again. I am ashamed of how weak I am in front of her.
My baby sister supports me and understands me. She really loves me. My other sister became aggressive and horrible, just like our mother. And like our mother, she tries to make my life hell. We have one hell of a dysfunctional family.
Thanks to The Band, I now know why my life is the way it is. Now, that I know what it means to be a golden child, I can finally permit myself to look after me instead of everyone else. I can see now how much care I need, how lonely I’ve been. And best of all, I know now that I deserve it!
My best friend’s 17 year old daughter just got her first car recently. I somehow got talked into going to Jefferson, TX with her. This girl, who I’ll call Jenny, and I worked together in the same restaurant last summer, and actually get along rather well. We both enjoy the same anime cartoon, and find the same things amusing, and we both have a serious weakness for cuppity cakes. Now she is, in many ways, an old soul and a pretty cool chic to sit and talk to. So really, it wasn’t any kind of torture to go spend time with this kid just so her mom could have some peace of mind knowing that an an adult was around if something went wrong with the car or whatever.
We went to Jefferson, TX, which is this little historic town that used to be a major shipping hub in the plantation days, but is now a tourist trap with antique shops and ghost tours and such, along with the occasional four day long biker ralley. Jenny and I wandered into some of the cuter stores and looked at funny teeshirts and weird pocketbooks with pounds and pounds of fake gems pasted on them and looked at all of the historic architecture, and train cars, and such, and had a great time.
As we were wondering around, we wandered into the local drug store. I had never been in there before, and Jenny thought the place was cool. The first thing I noticed was the old timey soda shop inside this drug store. It was OLD, and it brought back memories of my dad taking me to the local drugstore in the town where I grew up and having lunch or ice cream at the soda shop counter there.
It was a powerful wave of childhood memories, and for a moment I wasn’t my 44 year old self. For just one moment, I was a little platinum-haired kid, and I think I actually looked around for my daddy.
Now, rather than make me sad that my daddy died when I was only 14, these memories made me feel so connected to the daddy I lost so long ago. I actually felt the joy of a child as I walked up to the counter and started to read my ice cream options on the wall.
I sometimes think that, as adults, we get so caught up in all of the busy-ness of our lives that we forget that kids are onto something. Kids don’t forget to laugh and play and enjoy the moment. Kids don’t forget to live life.
I think I’ll have to ask my friend if I can borrow Jenny again sometime soon so that we can go back to that drugstore with its soda shop counter and sit down a moment and enjoy life.
I see you, you know. You may think no one really sees you, but I do. I promise. I see all of the things you try to hide. I see your scars. I see it all. You are hurting. So, so much. I know, I get it. But you need to stop hurting yourself. Stop the cutting, stop the drinking, and stop all of the meaningless sex. It is not okay to try and drown your feelings in the bottom of a bottle and it is not okay to cut yourself just to feel alive. I know you want to be numb and I understand, but sex isn’t supposed to leave you numb. It is a beautiful thing, and you will understand what I mean later in life.
Contrary to what you may believe, you are NOT alone. You are loved. People care! Stop drowning yourself in alcohol, stop going to school drunk. Stop taking handfulls of pills. Just STOP!
You are pushing your closest friends away. They don’t want to watch you slowly self destruct anymore.
You are about to make the biggest and greatest mistake in all of your life. It’s dangerous and damn near-deadly, but I won’t stop you. You need this, you’ll see why. Not right away, but you will. I promise.
This guy you’re with? He’s bad. Worse than any of the others. He is going to use, abuse, and destroy you. He will sell you out to push himself ahead in the blink of an eye. This isn’t love and he isn’t worth your tears. We can get through this. Together.
Someday, when you are older, you will thank me for not stopping you from making that mistake. I know you believe in fate, and I am pretty sure this is fate stepping in to make sure you don’t kill yourself (accidentally or on purpose). This is your rock bottom.
I promise you, you will find happiness someday. When you least expect it, it will come.
I promise you, there is a lot of work to be done, so start now!
