Bipolar Moving

While I love wordpress, I can’t get it to do everything I want my blog to do, there for I have moved it. Those who follow me, please take a moment to update your links or your reader. Thank you for your support and I hope you’ll continue to follow my journey as I move forward with my Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder.

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Part Two of my Depression and Bipolar

Shortly after the time Ange started molesting me, my parents decided to call it quits and get a divorce. A very nasty divorce I might add. I can remember waking up one night to slamming doors and screaming. My brother a sleep on the bunk below me had just been woken up by it and looked to me for comfort. Trying to be the big sister that I am I can remember going to the door to look out, hearing one of my parents bitching because they blamed the other one for waking us kids up. Both then proceeded to open and close our bedroom door against the other, causing even more panic in two frightened children. Needless to say my brother and I huddled on his bunk as our parents screamed and fought with one another for countless hours before my mom finally left.

This is probably the actual start of my down fall. Mom drank heavily and smoked pot, dad was never home and us kids always seemed to be at our babysitters house. We had stayed with dad because mom had no place for us, let alone herself. This was also about the time we started being shuffled around between not only our parents but my grandparents and Aunt during the summer and holidays.

My dad was and still is a work-aholic. So he wasn’t around except to coach my brother at sports. For me, my brother could do no wrong, while everything I did was wrong. My dad is a man’s man and nothing changes that one bit. Course then we learned of his current girlfriend and I think that added some resentment to me considering I still wanted my mom.

My mom got heavely into drinking and hoping from place to place. It was at one of her places that we met her current boyfriend. “T” would play nice when other adults where around, but once they were gone we would be all done for.

We had this huge cabinet in our room that we had laid down on the floor to use as a toy box. He would put us in there for hours in the dark and only take us out right before our mom got home. Mom worked for a remodeling company so she had to do evening and weekend appointments, leaving us with “T”. I can remember being sick one night mom had to work and being at her house, so she had to leave us with “T”. After beating our asses severely for lord knows what, he placed us in the box, told us not to move or make a noise, turned off the lights and shut the door. I was vomiting, coughing terribly, and running a fever, but I was in the box still. He would get that way with us on and off over the time him and mom dated.

This is how my childhood went for years. My brother and I going back and forth between parents on the weekends, basically living with the babysitter till dad would get off work, then start all over again. Not to bad right? Wrong!

I can’t do this today so I will pick up on it more tomorrow. Till then….Peaceful dreams….

Where my depression and Bipolar come from. Part one of many.

First off, I know my Bipolar isn’t where my thought and things in my life come from. However my thoughts, feelings, and the reason I do things come from all that your about to read and my Bipolar feeds off of this……

The first time Ange molested me, I would have been between the age of 4-6 years old. We would spend the night at his house with our friends who might only come in on the weekends, so not only did he molest me, but my brother and cousins as well as his great nieces and nephews. We all let this go on for I’d say another 8 years or so before someone finally reported him.

I don’t fucking understand how someone to do that to lord knows how many kids for however many years and no one ever said a word! He fucking played cards or ate dinner with my family almost night, we would go on camping excursions with him and yet not one adult knew. No one even questioned why over time I refused to be alone with him or to even been near him. How can not one fucking person see that?

Yes I’m mad! I’m mad at the fact my Grandparents never caught on. I’m mad at me for letting it continue to go on (but when your 7 how in the hell can you tell anyone something like that). I’m sure as hell mad at Ange for doing it. Hell I might even be mad at the rest of us kids for not opening their mouths. I’m mad because my dad didn’t save me. Oh fuck, I could keep going on and on at who I am mad at, but the point is, “I’m mad as hell”, still to this day!

When Grampy found out what Ange had done to his Grandchildren, he wanted to kill him. Gramps grabbed his gun and started to head down the lake, only to be stopped by my grammy. When I was 15 or so, after all this came out, I can remember sitting across the table from my Grammy and listening to her tell me that she “was in love with him”. Him, being the bastard who molested her grandkids! That right there made me even more furious. To this day I know I hold it against her and probably always will as she has never once apologized for what she allowed to happen to all of us.

We have no idea to know just how many kids Ange ruined by his actions as he has long since passed away. He was out alone on a snowmobile trail and had a heart attack. I could have only wished for a more violent death for him as he ever only got probation and time served for the fucking mess he caused us kids. Many lives have been ruined by this man, just how many I’ll never no as none of us talk about it.

Well I will leave here for the time being and continue this journey tomorrow. After writing this I feel some weight has lifted from my shoulders, but at the same time it’s still there as the people I want to say these things too, I can’t. So yes some of the weight is still there!