Attacked! Part Three: Mistreatment & Madness

When I was 21, I once again, was trying to get away from drugs. I had recently gotten out of a three year relationship that contained a lot of partying. I met a guy while on a trip in North Carolina. And he was what I was looking for- he had never done any drugs in his life. What better way to be able to quit drugs than to be with someone who had no drug history, right? So I moved 3000 miles away from my home in CA to start a new life- a better life.

From the beginning the relationship was unstable. He had a slight temper- but no one was perfect, right? I know I wasn’t. So I excused most of his behavior. Then he went on his first tour to Iraq. By the way Army- sending someone with an anger problem to war… not a good idea. After he returned we decided to get married. Our relationship got increasingly more stressful. I found out many things that he had hidden. He had told me in the beginning that he was in a three years relationship before me which ended due to his enlistment in the military. I later found out, from his mom, that he had never had a relationship that lasted more than six months.

Then I discovered his addiction to pornography. This was a major problem in our relationship. We were attending a church in the city we lived. I was trying to be a good wife and a good person. But I had this horrible fear of rejection- and every time he looked at another woman he was rejecting me. It was incredibly hard for me to handle. But I tried to keep it together. I tried to pray for him and help him. There was a group at our church for this type of addiction and I asked him to go. He went once. He said he was not like those men. He said that they “actually” cheated on their wives- and he did not. Even though I did consider the things he had done cheating. It wasn’t just watching movies or looking at magazines, it was him talking to girls on the internet and getting them to undress for him. My husband tried to hide it a lot. He would try to act like he quit- but I would constantly pray that God would show me the truth- and He would. I had girls, who thought he was single, contact me and send me their conversations. He tell them that he wasn’t married and that he had a crazy ex-wife who would post on myspace and facebook that they were still together. He had even got under my screen name before on instant messenger and acted like he was me. He told a girl friend of mine that he was me, and that I was attracted to her and then proceeded to try and get her to show her body. Luckily, she knew it wasn’t me and called me and let me know what happened. His addiction was so bad that he would stay up all night acting like he was watching T.V., when he was really watching porn, and end up getting only a few hours of sleep before going into work. He walked around looking like a zombie.

Then I started to have scary dreams. After he would leave in the morning for work I would go back to sleep. Then I would have a dream that he came back, and was standing over me while I slept- but it wasn’t him. It was a demon in his body. I would wake up scared and sweating. I started to have a very weary feeling in our home. I often kept the office door shut, where the computer was. I eventually called one of our pastors over to have him bless our house. But my husband would not let me tell him why I was feeling the way I was. I started praying prayers of protection over myself and the dreams stopped. But I still did not feel comfortable in my home.

My husband was getting increasingly frustrated that he could not hide his addiction. His anger started getting out of control. He was angry at himself but took it out on me. I think he felt a loss of control and therefore tried to control me. He started verbally abusing me, constantly. When we would fight he would lock me in the room and not let me out and continue screaming insults at me. Then he would cry- and I mean sob. He said his mind was racing and that he could not stop it. Finally one night as he lay sobbing on the hallway floor, we went to the ER. He was made an appointment with a psychiatrist the next day and they diagnosed him with ADD and put him on medication.

The medication helped somewhat. But it didn’t stop the porn addiction. I was trying to be patient with him and love and pray for him. But the effects were devastating to me. And so much of my time was spent trying to help him and no one was helping me. Finally, he got called for another deployment. The first time he was deployed I was so sad. But this time I was relieved. Eight months of time away so I could heal and hopefully when he returned we could get on track. He thought the deployment would help because he said he would not be able to get a hold of any porn there. And if he could go eight months then maybe he could kick it.

Well, I can tell you that soldiers are not suppose to have porn or alcohol while they are deployed. But you’d be surprised how many wives send both to their men. It wasn’t long before his best friend told me that my husband was in fact looking at porn and was lying to me. We started fighting on the phone a lot- which is not good when you never know if that phone call could be your last. Then, his deployment was extended- to 12 months. Then, it was extended again- to 15 months!

Madness begins…

The 15 month deployment extended his contract with the military as he was suppose to be getting out. So when he got home he would have four months left in order to clear and then he would be free of the Army. We planned to move to Charlotte, NC where he wanted to join the police department. So when an awesome position with the company I worked for opened up in Charlotte- I felt I should jump on the chance. My husband and I discussed me moving to Charlotte right away and then him coming to join me once he was cleared from the Army. He agreed and I packed my bags and moved to Charlotte.

The job was great. My apartment was great. The city was beautiful. I felt this was a good move. But something happened.

I started getting depressed. This was not my first bout with depression. And with everything I was going through with my husband I was surprised it was just now hitting me. I was trying to find a church but it was harder than I thought. I would sit in parking lots after a service and cry. I had no friends either. I didn’t know anyone and most everyone at my job was a lot older than me. So I was alone in a new place with no one. I managed to get myself up for work during the week but would spend most of the weekends curled up in a ball, crying.

Then something different started happening. I started getting periods where I felt better. In fact, I felt 10 times better! I would have a few days where my depression would lift and I would feel full of energy- ready to take on the world! I would go run for five or six miles (and I hate running). I would join social communities online and go meet people I didn’t know for some activities. I would get an idea to start an online business that I could do on my time off. I also couldn’t sleep and my mind would race at an incredibly fast pace. Then after a few days the depression would hit and the cycle would start again. I didn’t really think anything was wrong with me until something happened that scared the crap out of me.

My thoughts had been getting weirder and weirder during these times where I was free of my depression. One day while driving down the street I had a lighter in my hand and, for some reason, decided to light my car seat on fire. The seat blew up in flames! I had to pull over. I stared at the flames next to me for a minute in awe and not knowing what to do. I finally started feeling the heat and got out of the car. And reality set in. What the heck did I do?! I was close to my apartment so I ran to try and get some water. But when I got back, the car was engulfed in flames. Windows were broken out and fire stretched to the sky. I grabbed my phone and called 911.

The fire department came and put the fire out. I sat on the lawn and my phone rang. It was my husband. I still did not understand what had happened so I just told him that the car caught fire and I didn’t know why. He was confused but so was I.

I couldn’t sleep for days after the fire. My mind was racing. The thoughts in my head were loud. What happened? Why did I do that? What was wrong with me? Then I would cry. I was trying to go to work and not let anyone know what was wrong with me. Everything was so strange though. I felt like I saw everything in a haze. And sounds would seem loud. Sometimes I would feel like a spectator to my own body- like I was outside of myself and watching in fast forward.

Finally one Friday night I was getting really scared so I opened the phone book and called a suicide hotline. I asked where I could go to get help. They referred me to a mental health facility in Charlotte, NC. I got in my car and drove there and admitted myself. I was stripped searched and placed in this “crazy people” clothing that had no strings or ties- I guess so I couldn’t hang myself. I saw multiple people before I saw the doctor and had to tell the story multiple times. Finally, after hours and hours I saw the psychiatrist.

We went through my family history. I had one aunt with bipolar I and an aunt who was schizophrenic. I had people with substance abuse history also. We went through my own history as well. I had been prescribed an anti-depressant once when I was 17- but my doctor took me off of it because it made me have mood swings. He did not place me on anything else. We went through my drug and alcohol abuse and my periods of sobriety. We went through my current conditions and stressors and the incident that had just happened.

After hours of talking with the doctor, I was diagnosed with Bipolar I disorder. I was relieved. I had always known something was different about me but never knew what it was. I felt I had to try to be “normal” when others just lived that way. The doctor prescribed me Lithium, but I kindly refused due to the side effects I had heard of. The doctor assured me that it was safer than it used to be. But I preferred to try other medications first.

Over the next several months I went through a laundry list of medications. I was let out of the hospital to go to work but would return on the weekends for counseling and evaluations. The medications were rough. I told one girl at work, that I could trust, what was going on. She lived by me so she often gave me rides to work if I could not drive. Some of the medications made me dizzy. Some of them I could not walk on without holding on to something. Some made me forget things- like shoes. But for the most part they seemed to help. I just had to find one that worked without the horrible side effects.

The major factor in my episodes was stress. I am not an emotional person so I tend to hold my feelings in and try to remain in control- but my body always manifests side effects to the stress. Over the next three years my life was very stressful. A good friend of ours was killed in Iraq, problems continued with my husband and got worse after his second deployment, I got pregnant with twins- lost one after a fight with my husband, then we moved to Charlotte and I lost the other one. My husband became more violent and the pornography problem persisted, therefore, remaining stable was very hard for me. I continued to have episodes even though I was heavily medicated. I eventually was put on a high dose of Lithium, accompanied by another mood stabilizer. I was in two different types of therapy and a bipolar support group but still went through several manic and depressive episodes. My episodes were running in cycles of four months. Four months with racing thoughts, delusions, insomnia, loss of appetite, anger fits and impulsive behavior. During these episodes I would think faster than I could talk and my sentences would often jump from one to the next without finishing the first one. Often my auditory senses were heightened so everything seemed incredibly loud. I would sometimes not be aware of where I was or what I was doing. Following my manic episodes I would be plagued by four months of depression. I would cry all of the time, sleep all of the time and would not eat. By the time I emerged from the back to back episodes I would usually be severely malnourished and very thin. I also started having mixed-episodes which have symptoms of both mania and depression at the same time. These kinds of episodes are very dangerous and lead me into two suicide attempts.

With the council of many members of my church and my therapist, I finally decided that I had no hope to ever be stable if I continued a relationship with my husband. I had tried for several years at this point to work on our marriage but he was unwilling to change or work on the issues that he needed to address. The divorce was stressful, but not as stressful as the marriage. With the help and support of many of my friends, family, my current boss, and my therapist I was able to get out of a violent relationship.

The battle to control my mind had been a struggle for me all of my life. And during those years I was definitely losing the battle. It has taken me years to figure out how to control my mind. But with the grace and love of God I have managed to be medicine free and episode free for 20 months! And nine months of that was being pregnant, which I was told would hospitalize me. Now that is ALL GOD. I could never be the way I am now without Him.  He is my healer, my father, my guider, my comforter and my savior. He makes my life what it is now. And I have a very healthy, stable life because of Him.

Attacked! Part Two: Devastate and Destroy

Attacked! Part Two: Devastate and Destroy

If you have ever been addicted to a substance, you know that it turns you into a completely different person. You do things that you would never have done sober. I struggled with drugs for over four years. And after I kicked the drugs I struggles on and off with alcohol for another four years! For a good eight years of my life Satan had reign to devastate and destroy me. He knew that every mistake I made would make it that much harder to clean up. Because as you deteriorate, Satan makes a point to create shame in your heart for the things you have done. By the end of eight years I can tell you that I honestly hated myself. I hated everything that I had become and I thought that I could never be what I once was. I had ruined my life and there was no return to the innocence that I once embraced.

I experimented with many types of different drugs. And each destroyed me in a different way. I will not sit here and tell stories, as I do not want to glorify that type of life. I will tell you that using drugs- even “fun” drugs made me someone that I did not want to be. I have done everything from lying, stealing & cheating to using people, hurting people & backstabbing people. I have carelessly used my body and in some cases even sold my body for what I thought I needed in the moment. I have seen people almost die. I have almost died myself. I have enticed and encouraged other to do drugs- some of who are still using and some of who will never get their lives back because of their use. I hurt my family, I hurt my friends and I used and hurt men who actually cared about me. I cared only for myself. I did not think of others and I did not care to.

I tried repeatedly during those eight years to quit using and/or drinking. I grew up in recovery. I knew what I was doing was wrong. But every time I tried Satan would remind me of what I had done and of how I was no good. And I had no knowledge of how to overcome those thoughts. They replayed in my head over and over. All the mistakes I had made, people I had hurt and people who had hurt me would play like a recording in my brain. I often could not sleep because the thoughts were so loud in my brain.

So I tried and failed, tried and failed, tried and failed. Every time I tried I was attacked and I was never spiritually mature enough to know how to protect myself from these attacks. And each time I returned to using I fell even further than where I was the time before. Take two steps up and fall six backwards. That was my life for those eight years. Soon you begin to feel that there is no use. That if God did exist, He wasn’t concerned with you anymore. I felt He had given up on me and left me.

I wasted a lot of my life during those times. I wish I had had someone to guide me and help me. I hope that I can help someone in the way that I needed help. Because I discovered that with God it is so easy! If I had the tools then that I finally got a few years ago, I may not have wasted so much time.