So, in 2011 I decided to start taking meds and seeing a therapist. This was a very difficult choice but I could no longer live in the cloud of depression and have the constant feeling of injuring myself.

With the help of my first therapist and the new medication I started seeing that I needed to leave my parent's home. I needed to get out more. I started doing this. And then I eventually moved out after coming home became physically and emotionally painful. I would hang out with my friends and dread the ride home. My boyfriend even rode with me to my house. I would be shaking and crying so hard I did not want to go home at all.

Eventually this lead to one night me, my boyfriend, and two friends helped me move out of the house while my parents weren't home. They were at church. I took the essentials (my clothes, meds, and a few important personal belongings) and left. I then lived with my boyfriend for about 6 months until I got a in home care-giving position.

This was very nice for me, I had my own room, my own space, I set my own boundaries for what i was willing to do. The woman (early 30's, chronic lyme disease) was very nice and considerate and understanding of my depressed days. But this care-giving also filled my need to serve and please (because of co-dependency).

I eventually found a new therapist. She was very helpful in searching myself and listening to the different parts of me. I found that I had this part that felt like a butler, that needed to serve and could never ask for time off or ask for what it needed or ask for help. We worked through this and I was then able to start putting myself first. Asking for help, getting the things I needed, and even some of the things I wanted. This was a great experience.

So now, in 2013 (almost 2014) I have moved away, out of state, from my parents. I felt If I was going to be able to work on myself completely I needed to be away from their influence. I have very little contact. I occasionally text or IM my dad. And he passes along messages to my mom.

But recently I went and paid them a visit. After a discussion we had and seeing my old house the way it had been still the same from all those years. Walls stacked with boxes and things because my dad is a hoarder. And now i'm starting to look at my past from a different perspective. And I am finding out that I was emotionally abused. My sister, also suffered from this, but her reaction instead of serving was to become very independent and bossy. (I came to this realization while reading the "inner child" articles from havoca.org).

This has all been fairly sudden and difficult to handle this past week with all the realizations. Almost a new one every day. I am glad to have my boyfriend and his loving supportive family around me. And to have my best friend to talk to about my situation. But I feel the need to get a therapist again. I am still afraid of my feelings. They have been buried so deep that they have fermented and become even more painful. I just hope I can survive them.

~03fifteen