They see me at an appointment, a scheduled event or grocery store and assume I must be well. I smile … More
They see me at an appointment, a scheduled event or grocery store and assume I must be well. I smile and look presentable to the outside world and tell them everything is going well, so they think I must be doing well. I know this game. I have done it for years–all my life in fact.
What they don’t know is…
I woke up at 4:45 a.m., couldn’t go back to sleep and could not stop the intrusive negative raging thoughts–even suicidal thoughts and thoughts of cutting. Those are thoughts I have not had for a long time but I am now fighting again. Another dread fills my mind as I realize somehow I will have to get dressed and ready to be at a 10:00 a.m. scheduled appointment. In my mind I try to plan how to get ready. “I will just clean up because I don’t feel like getting in the shower. That’s too much work. I’ll just wash up and put make-up on–maybe make-up. They cant see much of my face anyway though through the facemask I must wear to my appointment. I’ll decide on make-up or not make-up later. I still have three hours to get ready.” I feel a little relief knowing I still have time to get physically and emotionally ready to leave the house and prepare for another game of pretend for the outside world.
My mom recently passed. That is sad and I am grieving the loss of my mother, but sadly grief would be a normal response but that is not the reason my mental wellness has significantly regressed. Instead, I am suffering with my mental illness from being triggered from my lifelong trigger–a creature I must call Frank–short for Frankenstein–aka a monster that does not deserve the title of Dad. I can no longer refer to him as that.
My mother recently lost her 17 year, hard-fought courageous battle with ovarian cancer. I was blessed to be able to take care of her in her home for the last time before she was hospitalized and then brought to a hospice home where she died peacefully a few days later.
Death is a normal part of life and I could have helped my mom have a beautiful end of life experience except the monster was there. The only positive in the fact that the monster showed his true colors is that I have renewed validation as to why I was so sick all my life and lost two decades of my life to severe mental illness and hospitalizations. It all makes perfect sense now.
You see, even though I know Frank could trigger me, I took the chance for my mom. After all, you only have one mom and I LOVE MY MOM. I needed to be there for her. Plus, I mistakenly and stupidly thought maybe during this difficult time Frank could be semi-normal. Boy, was I WRONG.
I am a caretaker at heart and have been my entire life. Taking care of others is what I do best. I thought I could help Frank as well. I did for two days, telling him what he needed to hear and letting him vent–talk AT me. However, this backfired badly. As my mother was in the process of dying he was still mean to her and about her and everyone else in his way. You see even as my mom was dying, Frank needed this to be about him.
Frank has a severe case of (rageful) narcissistic personality disorder and has his entire life. Of course, as a severe narcissist he has never done anything wrong. He also became jealous that I was taking care of my mom. He began his games, cruelty and lies to make himself look good, me bad and he himself a poor victim. This game occurred my entire life.
I have been afraid of Frank my entire life, since I was a little girl.
I am in the process of letting go hopefully of this monster forever. Now that my mom is with Jesus, I will never have to see Frank again. I know that will be freeing and healing. But, right now I am in the middle of it and I once again must GO THROUGH IT TO GET OVER IT.
It also hurts that Frank is being well taken care of by my siblings. This hurts me. I know my siblings must do what they must to survive as they too are victims of Frank. It hurts though that they don’t want the monster to suffer, but don’t seem to mind if I do as I am left alone to fight to recover from my lifelong retriggered wounds and new scars created from Frank.
Now, I must start to mentally and physically prepare to go out into the world that I do not want to be a part of. You see, I am right dab in the middle of it. While I am stuck in this retriggered mental illness I must mentally and physically prepare to enter the outside world and pretend I am well–pretend my life is normal, was normal and that I did not have a monster for a Dad. It is hard for me to use that word because I NEVER HAD A DAD. Instead there was a creature that PRETENDED he was a dad but he was and is a monster named Frank.
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Dear Melissa, in case you read this, I must apologize to you. I am sorry. This was not meant to hurt you. I needed to write and vent. I must say that you, Melissa are the only sibling that has helped me through my mental illness and as of recently as well. My sister, Melissa is amazing and has saved my life numerous times to many conversations that must have been heart wrenching and so difficult to listen to. I am sorry about that and love you and appreciate you for that. Through most of my illness she was the only one that was always at my side (of course my children as well).
