WHY??

I now know why I had trouble writing the last few days. Every time I tried to type words my fingers refused to cooperate. I would look at the screen and the only word staring back at me was a big WHY with a BOLD question mark.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? 

Why have I slipped again? Why has this addiction become a center of my life again? Why have things changed since last week when I was strong? Why a few days ago was I able to resist? Why am I so drawn to this? Why won't it go away and leave me alone?

So many questions and no answers.

I am slipping tumbling down a slide, to fast, to hard. I try grab onto the edge to gain stability. I want to slow down. All I receive is a painful friction burn.

I'm scared actually I'm terrified. Fear has a grip so tight it has paralyzed my heart. I can't do this again. I don't know if I have any fighting power left in me. 

On the outside I appear to be the typical young married kollel wife with a 4 month old infant. Inside I am a war-zone full of darts and swords. These two sides of me are constantly wrestling with one another fighting to win. How much longer can I continue living a double life?

How much longer can I continue hiding this from my husband, my family, my friends. I don't know how much longer I can survive the blade of the giant chainsaw that is splitting my body into two.

I want my life back the one I've had the last few months the peace, the tranquility, the happiness, the laughter, the joy. I don't want to return to a life of struggles, of wars, of screams, and pain.

I knew if I didn't deal with this addiction it would return. I thought if I could ignore all the warning signs I could pretend it wasn't there.

I was wrong it lay simmering underground like a bubbling volcano. Lying in wait for the perfect moment to erupt. And now it has exploded hard and fast with no intention of calming down.

What do u do when a volcano erupts? Is there any way to stop the deadly lava? Any way to outrun the blast?

What do I do now? Where do I go from here??? 

More questions I don't have answers for. Some days I just wish I could disappear.

Communication with my parents

"I have a box of your brothers stuff which I will leave outside your apartment this week. Do You have room for his bike?"

This is the message my husband received today on torn piece of cardboard. The note was given to him by my father.  

Our reply via email.

''I'm sorry we do not have space to store his stuff in our apartment. Please do not leave it on our doorstep. If we find it there we will have to return it.

This is the first communication we have had with my parents since I gave birth.

This is the email I would have liked to send instead.

Dear Aba and Mummy,

This is the first message you chose to send us three months after we had a baby. A scrap of paper letting us know you want to rid yourself of any reminders that you once had children. Sons and daughters you once claimed to love. 
Where is the mazel tov? Where is the need to know how your new grandchild is doing? Do you not care? Do you really think you can pretend you never had children?

Do you know I started laughing when your son in law brought this note home to me? It was not a laughter of joy, but a laughter of pain. What other reaction would be suitable for such an occasion? Cry? The tears have dried up a long time ago.

Do you believe that eliminating all signs that we once lived in your house will help you forget us?

I pray everyday that I can wipe away the past. Yet I plagued by nightmares and filled with memories. Memories that make me wish I could forget my childhood. Nightmares that leave me shaking in fear.

Yet for some reason I can't understand somewhere deep inside me I still have a dream. A dream that things can be different. A dream that my daughter can have grandparents who will love and care for her. A dream I still cling to even though I am aware will never happen.

In reality I know it is not a dream but a fantasy. 

Sarah.

Postpartum Depression

I recognise the signs. I have been down this road in the past. The footsteps lead into a wild overgrown jungle. I know I need to follow the path carefully to emerge safely on the the other side.

My thoughts are racing. My mind in chaos. My heart a mess.

I am slipping. Falling into a big black hole. The hole is filled with quicksand. The more I struggle the more I sink. I need to calm down.

I block my ears, close my eyes. Breathe in, Breathe out. I try and put a name to my emotions, identify my feelings. They are buried to deep. I can not reach them. 

I wake up in the morning tired, frightened of the nightmares that have terrorised my sleep.
I hear my husband talking my mind drifts I can not concentrate. Focus I tell myself. It is to hard. I give up.
I look at the food in front of me. I have no appetite. I have lost the desire to eat.

I want to flee. Distract myself. Lose myself in old addictions. They beckon me to take comfort in their familiarity. My mind rebels it knows the pleasure is short lived, temporary. Self hate and guilt follow. It will only make me feel worse. 

I look at the old scars. They are faint now but they force me to stay grounded. I allow myself to cry release some of the pent up emotions.

Sometimes I wish I could run away and leave myself behind. Step out of my body. Escape the fogginess of my mind.

I wish that just for one day I could be someone else.

Just one day to know what it feels like to be normal.
One day to get up without the hole in my heart.
One day to leave the self hate and the guilt behind.
One day to wake up refreshed from a good nights sleep.
One day to know what it feels like to have a mothers love.
One day to be without memories.

Just one day that I can accept who I am.
One day that I can reach beyond my flaws.
One day that I am not hiding parts of me away.
One day that I am not fighting the pull of the dark side.
One day that my inside and outside match.
One day that I am not scared to face the world.

Just one day that feeling good is not just my imagination.

But I need to stop dreaming. I need to focus on the reality. I need to search in order to find the answers I so desire. 

Step One: Put my pride aside. Admit I have postpartum depression.
Step two: Rid myself the feeling that there was something I could have done to prevent it. This was not a test of my strength.
Step three: Make an appointment at the doctor. Anti depressants if necessary.
Step four: Talk to my therapist.

Maybe if I follow these steps I can climb out of the pit I have found myself in. Pick up the scattered pieces of my world that is disintegrating around me.

I know I can do this. It will only make me stronger. It will only help me be better mother for my daughter.  

I have some memories...

-I'm 5 years old. My big sister is in trouble she did something bad. Mummy is screaming at her a lot. Really screaming at her and slapping her hard. She drags her to the bathroom takes the soap and forces it into my big sister's mouth. Scraps it really hard on her teeth. Really hard till there is no more soap left. My big sister is crying and asking her to stop. She wont she is to angry. She tells my big sister to pack her bags, she has to leave. Doesn't want her as a daughter anymore. Mummy tells us that a lot and makes us pack our bags but she never actually made us leave. But tonight she does. Tells her to leave and not come back. My big sister took her suitcase with her. She is gone. I'm scared. I want my big sister back. What if Mummy makes us leave to?

- I'm 11 years old. Shopping in a mall with mummy and my little sister. My little sister wants something and asks Mummy if she can have it. Mummy is not in a good mood. She slaps my little sister hard for daring to ask for something. A man stops and tells her she should not be hitting her children. Mummy tells him to mind his own business. Her daughter asked for something she knows she can't afford. The man says to tell her that no need to hurt her she is just a kid maybe she doesn't understand. It makes sense to me. Sounds simple. But it is never like that. Mummy is mad and so angry you can feel it. She drags us back to the car in silence that is when you know she is really mad. We get home she is angry, extremely angry. Mummy is hitting and slapping my little sister really hard. She embarrassed her in the shop today. My little sister has bruises on her face the next day can't go to school. Mummy keeps her home and she has to clean the house all day.

- I'm 10 years old. Shabbos afternoon coming back home from Shabbos group. Walking down the street on my own. I hate doing that there is 2 massive horse dogs that live nearby. I'm petrified of dogs got bitten by one when I was 5. I can see them in the distance 2 big dogs I'm scared. They smell my fear. They start running towards me. I start walking a little quicker. The dogs are catching up to me. I start running suddenly they are chasing me. I've never run so fast in my life 2 huge dogs almost as big as me chasing me I'm petrified. I'm screaming really loud the whole street can hear me. Mummy hears me comes outside. I can see her in the distance. Why isn't she coming to rescue me? The dogs are biting my clothes. A car passes by stops a man gets out. He whistles to the dogs. He gets them into his car. They are gone. Run home Mummy goes inside. I ask her why she didn't come and take them away from me. I can't remember the reason she gave me. Later she tell me I deserved the scare was a good punishment for something I did.

These are some painful memories. Memories that make up my past. But I will not let my past define me I will move forward. I will make new memories. Nice memories that will one day be my daughters.

My therapist thinks I should write a book.

I have the storyline all planned out already.

The story begins with a little girl, growing up in a close minded religious community where serious issues are pushed under a rug and ignored. Her mother has borderline personality disorder, her father physically there but emotionally a shell.

The little girl spends her days absolutely terrified of making the smallest mistake knowing that even the tinniest wrong move could set her mother off into a rage. She does her best to please her mother to avoid the physical abuse but never knowing what could upset her it is to no avail.

School is her safe place and she puts her trust into the one person who she thinks can help her. So when the teacher starts hugging and kissing her she believes it is out of love. But then it turns sexual and the little girl who is now a teenager is confused. Growing up in such a community she is totally naive and wonders if the teacher is really doing it out of love like she claims or is she using her?

With no one else to turn to or trust this continues until she gets married.

The young women and her husband leave to Israel hoping to put the past behind her, begin a new life, and start her own family.

But the months and then the years go by and and after visits to top doctors they discover they have unexplained infertility. After 3 years and expensive treatments they discover they are finally pregnant. At 13 weeks just as they beginning to believe it is real they rush to hospital at 2:00am praying that the blood doesn't mean a miscarriage. The nurse cannot find a heartbeat.

The young women falls into a deep clinical depression and begins to question her religion and why God has done this to them. She turns to the Internet to give her temporary relief from the pain and develops an addiction to self harm.

After her husband realises his wife is in danger he decides to take her back to their hometown. There she gets a job, begins to study,and with her friends and family surrounding her the depression lifts.

Fertility treatments start again and after a year the couple are overjoyed and a little nervous to find they are pregnant again.

The baby is healthy and is growing at a good rate. With all the hormones racing at 6 months the addiction returns. With the help of therapy she makes it through the pregnancy safely and gives birth to a gorgeous baby girl.

One look at the her little miracle and her world changes forever.

I am 23 yrs old, married, with a newborn daughter and this story is not a figment of my imagination it is the story of my life.

I want to write about what it means to grow up unloved, not wanted, betrayed by the people meant to protect you, live in fear of the people supposed to love you. It changes your psyche. As a child you learn things children should never know about. You struggle to adapt and do whatever you can to survive. You strive to become the person you are expected to become. You yearn to be free, shed the mask, and find out who you really are.

And then you grow up get married and are thrown into a new world with new rules. A world you have only ever looked in on from the outside. Fighting to fit in and not take advantage of the new found freedom. Resisting the pull of an addiction to return to the only world you know. A world of pain.

But this blog is not only about the my challenges it is also about the rewards. Sisters and brothers who are there for me and stand by me through everything. I have made some amazing friends and met some amazing people along this journey. People who have reached out to help me and be there for me when I needed them most.