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rainingviolets

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rainingviolets last won the day on September 25

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About rainingviolets

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    Female
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    safe in the arms of love
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    Family, eschatology, gardening, theology, chronic pain management, art, children’s issues, music, reading

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  1. It's Over

    Don't live "for them" ~ live FOR YOU! You will be a happier, more fulfilled person and they will both reap the benefits of living with a woman who is not only satisfied with her life, but anticipating each new day. I have only recently just started to learn how to do that with myself. It isn't easy and I don't have it all figured out. But I know it is a gift we give to our self. I started by looking at the mess inside myself that was caused by other people and going to work fixing it. If you have internal damage caused by others and you're living your life trying to make everyone else happy, and perhaps allowing them to do further damage, how are you going to be the person you want to be for you or for anybody else?
  2. A Wasted Life

    We NEED to talk!! I want to REALLY talk...not here out in the open, though. I have kids and grandkids coming off and on all week starting tomorrow so I have to run to town so I have something to feed the masses. I'll will return and will send you a private message.
  3. Why

    Even if you don't post them, send them to me!! I don't understand why you stopped sharing them by posting them, but do what your writer's/poet's/artist's heart leads you to do.
  4. You're paying your therapist to help you discover what your problems are and help you work towards making your life better. If your therapist isn't doing that, it's time to find a new therapist. Of course a therapist can't just tell you what's wrong and how to fix it, but the two of you are supposed to work together to make this happen. It's not unusual to have to go through several therapists to find the one you "click" with.
  5. Roy G. Biv

    TRIGGER WARNING Not long after my breakdown I became good friends on a depression website (not this one) with a guy who constantly battled suicidal thoughts. This was during a time of my life when I lived with daily suicidal ideations. Late one night we happened to cross paths in a suicide thread when I was on the brink of following through with my plans. His obsession with ending his life actually played a big part with me hanging on to mine because I felt like he needed someone to encourage him to keep living. We bonded in the suicide forum over late night pity parties. It was a rather odd relationship! I thought it was amusing that my friend’s user name was RoyGBiv. Everyone I knew ~ including my 4 children ~ had learned the colors of the rainbow by being introduced to Roy G. Biv. What an unusual name choice for such a brooding, desperate guy! He had a terribly unhappy life and had absolutely no family or friends. He was a diabetic and had all sorts of diabetic-related health problems that kept him going in and out of the hospital. He was honest with me about being extremely overweight. He lived with chronic pain, which formed an immediate connection between us beyond our shared ponderings of suicide. Only another chronic pain sufferer is able to truly understand the agony of living with relentless pain every minute of every day. As Roy’s depression worsened, his messages to me became almost creepy as he became completely obsessed with thinking of a variety of ways to end his life. He was constantly ordering "supplies" from other countries off the Internet that he planned to use. He recommended books to me and sent me links to really horrible Internet sites. Everybody else on the forum disliked him because of his dark posts and ridiculous statements. I knew Roy needed help and encouraged him to find it, but I was just a faceless name that lived in his computer. He had no real people in his life that cared about him. It bothered Roy that I didn't need to plan or research to order "supplies" if I was going to follow through on my suicide plans. My pain medications fill a huge basket and most of them are potent narcotics. Every message Roy sent to me talked about how he was "going to do it" and that he "couldn't hang on another day" and that he was "totally giving up." I heard these threats several times a week for over a year. Since I was often in the same state of mind Roy was, I took these threats seriously. I shared my concerns about Roy with another friend on that forum. He told me that Roy was just bluffing because he liked the attention I gave him. The one thing that seemed to be holding Roy back was the fear that he would do an incomplete job and end up physically and/or mentally disabled or that he would be unsuccessful and would end up locked in a mental institution. He knew that I had traumatic experiences with being hospitalized involuntarily and that I could sympathize with his fear. One day I got an email from Roy telling me he just couldn't go on any longer. It was a message I had received from him many, many times before. His message came at a time when I was going through a bad time myself with physical pain. My son was graduating from high school the coming weekend and I was pushing myself to the limit getting ready for his huge graduation party ~ cleaning, shopping, cooking, decorating, and moving furniture. I had lists and lists of things to do and physically I was having a rough time. I didn't reply to Roy's message right away because I was hurting so badly myself that I didn't feel I could give him the same pep talk that I'd given him so many times before. Several days passed before I replied to his message. Evidently I had waited too long. I never heard from him again. I repeatedly sent him messages both by email and through personal messages on the forum, but he never replied. He also abruptly disappeared from that forum, never to be heard from again. He had never told me his real name or what state he lived in. The only information the forum administrators had for him was his email address, which I already had. He had no family or friends that would realize he was missing and could go check on him. I was devastated and overwhelmed with guilt. I'll never know if I had replied and encouraged him like I always did if he would have held on…but then I’ll never know for sure what happened. Maybe he just got angry at me that I ignored that last frantic message and stopped emailing me, although I doubt he would end our friendship over something like that. If he did finally do what he’d been threatening to do for over a year, I prayed that he would be missed from his place of employment and that sooner or later someone would go to his home and find him. In the years following Roy’s disappearance from my life I've gone through several almost-over-the-edge/I'm-going-to-do-it suicidal episodes. The same Internet friend that assured me Roy was just bluffing told me afterwards, "I knew you wouldn't do it." That “friend” was wrong. I really was going to do “it.” That "friend" and I rarely ever correspond any more. Thoughts of Roy have been circling like vultures overhead lately…scavengers waiting to pick through the remains of that friendship if I ever get around to pronouncing it dead. It’s been an extremely slow process, but I‘ve finally discerned the difference between what I thought was grief and what I knew was guilt…guilt that burned inside me and wouldn’t let me go. Webster’s College Dictionary defines guilt as "the state of one who has committed an offense especially consciously." The Dictionary of Psychology defines guilt as "An emotional state produced by the knowledge that one has violated moral standards." An article I read about guilt states, “The mind is full of despair and does not have any kind of hope to resolve the situation.” For years I’ve been hauling around this emotional baggage because I had waited to email Roy. With the weight from all of that guilt no wonder my disks are degenerating! But did I really commit this offense “especially consciously”? I’m on board with the hopeless despair, but if anyone violated moral standards here, it was Roy mixing his final cocktail. I’m finally ready to let go. I’m ready to release myself from this heavy guilt. The fire is over and I’m dealing with the ashes now. The vultures are free to land.
  6. Why

    How can I read them if you hide them??? Why no more creative pieces when you are so good at expressing yourself through them?
  7. My parents very actively and consciously created a competitive environment in our home. Life was a constant contest where they would favor one sibling over the others. Was there any kind of dynamic happening like that while you were growing up that your feelings of rejection might be rooted in?
  8. October 11, 2017 Part 2

    You haven't ruined your future. All of these expenses are to build a better future for yourself! Certainly all of that debt is a bit overwhelming, but if you look at it as an investment in your future, it starts to look more positive. Once that investment helps you get a better-paying job so that you can have an improved quality of life you can begin to start eliminating that debt. My son married a girl who had a lot of college debt when he married her. He didn't want to touch the money he had in savings, so they agreed they would put so much of his work income aside each month to pay off her school debt. She wasn't even working. They had her debt paid off in a year. I hope you can see your education as a gift to yourself. Yes, it's an expensive gift, but hopefully someday it will pay for itself.
  9. What World is This?

    You would probably get more responses to your post if you copied and reposted it in the suicide forum. I hope you do that because what you say is from your heart and there are so many people here who have been in the exact place you are now: they don't see a purpose for themselves. I was in that place a few years ago. I was completely convinced that this world held nothing for me. Today my thinking is completely different. My life and mindset have totally changed. If I had followed through with my plans I would have missed so much! While it's beautifully romantic to think we each have only one soul mate, I've read that there are actually many people that we each would have a special "connection" to if only we would meet. You could meet someone else tomorrow or the next day. But the worth of our life isn't based on whether or not we have a special person in it or not. My life changed because I changed...it had nothing to do with meeting someone. "I know what I want: to see deeply, to thank deeply, to feel joy deeply. How my eyes see, perspective, is the key..." Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts
  10. Scared of them leaving

    Do you have a pet? If you don't it might help for you to get a dog or cat ~ something that you can show love to and who can love you back.
  11. I did the same thing you are doing several years ago and it was a godsend for me. I began communicating with people from all over the world who not only understood my physical pain, but also understood my emotional pain. I began writing to people between the ages of 16 and well into their seventies. I treasure these friendships from all over the world. I am much older than you are and realize you are probably looking for people more your age to communicate with. I wish you great success and hope you are able to form the lasting bonds of friendship and understanding that I have. If you ever need someone to listen, send me a message. I have several chronic pain diagnoses, as well as depression, an anxiety disorder, PTSD, repression, and an eating disorder.
  12. Boundaries

    "Establishing boundaries for yourself is always hard. It will be especially difficult if your boundaries were severely violated in childhood. No one who has avoided childhood victimization can truly understand what these individuals go through. Of all the injuries that can be endured, this type causes severe spiritual and emotional damage.” ~ Boundaries, Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend My life reads like the story of an ugly battered doll that God threw out with the trash. I was raised in a very dysfunctional family. To the outside world we were a good Catholic family who attended church every Sunday and lived in one of the city's better suburbs. Very few people knew what went on inside of that lovely home. My father was a brutal, violent, and angry man. In public, he acted the part of the refined successful businessman. In private, he was crude, abusive, controlling, manipulative, and hostile. When something didn’t go the way he wanted or expected, we could be assured of a violent tantrum. My parents treated us badly and allowed all of us kids (8 of us) to treat each other badly. Foul language, constant ridicule, name calling, slapping, punching – we literally were forced into hating each other. As the youngest child, I got the brunt of the insults and the abuse. No one ever told me they loved me. I remember furniture being thrown, doors being kicked in, screams of pain, loud swearing, breaking dishes, and the constant repetition of having yelled at me that I was ugly, dumb, and worthless. I lived in constant fear and spent a lot of time hiding under the bed. I have blackouts about most of the incidents that happened while I was growing up. I see these huge lapses in my memory as a gift from God. The memories I do recall are so awful that the ones that the Lord blessed me by removing from my mind must have been truly terrifying. Life in our house was a constant competition among the 8 of us for some crumb of parental approval, which my parents greatly encouraged. As kids our worth was measured primarily by our grades, our physical attractiveness, and our weight. As adults our worth was measured by who we married, the value of our home, and if the grandchildren we produced were attractive and intelligent. I lived my entire life successfully repressing, controlling, and/or ignoring the abuse and pain of the past. It was a skill which, kept sharpened and shined, served me well. From the time when my memory “kicks in”, which is some time around my freshman year of college, I have been a perfection-driven person. It’s never been a mystery why I’m that way, because even with my damaged memory I know that it was hammered into me from birth that nothing less than the best was acceptable to my parents. The environment I was raised in, aside from being abusive, was cut-throat competitive. The only way I know how to do anything is to give 150 percent of myself and then feel guilty that I didn’t give 160 percent. In the book Boundaries the authors, Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend, write: “To let go of what you never had is difficult.” When I read that I KNEW that was why I kept giving my parents another chance. Those words made me realize I was holding on to nothing. When I ultimately made the break from my parents I was physically sick for days. My teeth hurt. I finally figured out I was clenching them tightly all day waiting for the ground to open up and suck me down into hell for upsetting my parents. There was all kinds of drama with phone calls and letters. The authors go on to say, “Many people are cut off by the family they grew up in when they stop playing the family’s dysfunctional games.” That is exactly what happened to me. My parents got custody of all the siblings. None of them would speak to me…and out of 7 siblings to this day only one has any contact with me. I cried for a long time. I felt sad. I had let go of what I never had ~ parents who cared about me. I had long ago given up hoping for parents who loved me. After several months passed I realized that I had stopped crying and I no longer felt sad. Days could go by and I didn’t even think about them. Letting go doesn’t mean we don’t care. It’s having faith that things will work out. In one of Max Lucado’s books he writes, “You could be the world’s best daughter, but if your father is a jerk he still won’t tell you so.” That thought stayed with me for many years because the wording at the end of it can be so easily changed: You could be the world’s best daughter but if your mother is a jerk she’ll still make your life miserable. You could be the world’s best daughter but if your father is a jerk he’ll still break your heart. I think Lucado’s point was that the fault in this kind of dysfunctional relationship does not lie with us. Demystifying it all allowed it to become something of which I was no longer so afraid. There was nothing I could do to change the way my parents were going to act, so I needed to stop beating myself up over something I had no control over. The only person who was able to stop my parents from acting like a “jerk” was my parents. I needed to learn to walk away from these situations and these people…and so I did. That inescapable dungeon of pain wasn’t inescapable after all. The author Nicole Johnson says that we are like Swiss cheese, and the holes in us are actually supposed to be there. The holes are the things that make us who we are. I spent so many years trying to plug up those holes before I realized that they were part of the landscape of my life. Walking away from my parents ultimately meant cutting my entire birth family from my life. That process was painful. Sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t cover us with warm fuzzies. However, it protected my own children from the abusive, dysfunctional people who had destroyed my life. It was the act that helped me to successfully break a link…the chain of generational abuse stopped with my family, although it was passed on through my siblings. It was also the first positive step I took in healing my own battered life. Townsend and Cloud write that, “To forgive means we will never get from that person what was owed us. And that is what we do not like, because that involves grieving for what will never be: the past will not be different.” Job 11: 16 ~ 18 “You will surely forget your trouble, Recalling it only as waters gone by. Life will be brighter than noonday, And darkness will become like morning. You will be secure, because there is hope; You will look about you and take your rest in safety.”
  13. 21 yrs old forever alone

    Have you tried meeting someone online? My son had lots of friends and had already been in relationships, but decided to try it anyway. He met a lovely girl, they were engaged within a year, they've been married for almost 5 years, and are now expecting their second child. They know other couples that have gotten together the same way.
  14. I Want a Hug

    My daughter lives several miles away from me. She emailed me the other day to tell me my 2 year old grandson had started carrying around a teddy bear I had given him several months ago. He told her, " This bear is so soft. Nana gave me this bear. When I hug this bear it is like Nana is hugging me." She said he'd been in a really good mood the past few days because he felt like he was getting hugs from me all day. Do you have a stuffed animal someone special gave you? In the privacy of your own room the logic of an innocent liitle boy might work for you. Couldn't hurt to try it!
  15. And then there were four… Somewhere in the dark depths of my repressed memories are the reasons I think and feel the way I do about many things in life. Sometimes, but not often, an unexpected and usually unwelcome glimpse into the past will uncover some of those reasons. For example, a flashback not long ago made me realize that the reason I always wanted my daughters to have long hair is because my abusive father never allowed me to have long hair. Another flashback revealed that I’ve always hated geraniums because my mother always planted sickly red geraniums in the stone flower boxes by our front door. And even though most of the story of my childhood is absent from my mind, I know enough to understand that the pain of those years is why the most important goal in my life has always been to be the best mother I could possibly be. That goal has guided me every day of my life since my husband and I first talked about children. During the second year of our marriage when we first learned I was expecting a baby, we were stunned. We’d heard so many sad stories about couples who wanted babies but weren’t able to conceive. Once we’d decided we were ready to start a family that first pregnancy happened immediately. I felt almost smug. This baby business was so simple. I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. In time, however, I learned that conception is only one small piece of the immensely complicated process that forms a healthy child. Sometimes the pieces to that puzzle aren’t all there. And sometimes all the love and prayers and wishes can’t complete the picture. With that first beautiful child I learned the indescribable heartache that comes attached to the word “mother”, as well as the unbearable pain that comes with learning to let go. Conception the next time was not the simple process I had once thought it to be. I was convinced that we were now “one of those couples” who would always have empty arms. So, when we learned a second baby was on the way, I wasn’t sure if I should be joyful or apprehensive. We wanted a child so desperately, but the pain of loss and the fear of another heartbreak kept me from looking too far ahead. It wasn’t long before I learned I had good reason to feel uneasy. Through repeated ultrasounds at two hospitals and one medical center, with the results examined by several specialists, it was confirmed that our baby was badly deformed. We were encouraged to abort her, which we promptly refused. It was an extremely traumatic pregnancy. Through the grace of God and the prayers of many, our baby girl’s thick file documented a medical miracle including stacks of “before and after” photos. Her miracle healing was only the beginning of God's workmanship in her life. In time another healthy baby girl was added to our family…and then another. When we happily discovered we were expecting still another baby, I felt confident that all would be well. Heartache had visited our family, I told myself, but we had moved on to happier times. Certainly that kind of devastation couldn’t happen again. But, it could…and it did. The only different part of the routine was that this time there were three sisters who needed strong parents to help them navigate the frightening path of grief. This time I couldn’t collapse on the floor of the nursery hysterically hurling profanities toward the ceiling. This time I had to hold my three daughters, rock them each separately on my lap, and then rock with all of them together on my lap. We prayed and read and sang and rocked and, in time, ever so gently, climbed out of the rocking chair and resumed our lives. Even though their experience of having a fourth sibling was confusing, sad, and much too brief, the three girls never stopped chattering about having another baby in the family. I was charmed by their innocent babble. They didn’t whisper about their lost brother or fear speaking his name. He had existed in their lives and, unlike so many of our friends and relatives, they felt it right and proper to acknowledge that he had lived. Soon their dad became caught up in their enthusiasm about having another baby. I was the lone holdout. That kind of pain never goes away. I was so against the idea that I decided to return to school. Even though I already had a bachelors degree and had left a successful career to be a full time mom, I felt driven to do something new…something different….something BIG. So, I proceeded to move forward to become an attorney. My husband has always encouraged me to rest when I wanted to rest and stretch when I wanted to stretch. This was a bit too much stretching even for him with three little kids at home, but he didn’t hold me back. So, after weeks of research, phone calls, letters, and applications, I found myself sitting in a college classroom once again…battling heavy waves of nausea. Not only was I unexpectedly pregnant, but I was so sick I spent an entire Thanksgiving weekend in the hospital. I had never experienced such a difficult pregnancy as far as feeling ill. It’s hard to write college papers and think about passing exams when the majority of the day is spent lying on the bathroom floor while three little girls are spontaneously jumping up and down joyfully shrieking, “Mommy’s going to have a baby!” I was too sick to be worried and too exhausted to be frightened. As it turned out, I didn’t need to be. Our little firecracker was born rather quickly one July evening. He turned our lives totally upside from the moment we realized he was on the way and he hasn’t stopped since.