Samantha | #inmyexperience
I think that some of my past abandonment issues along with other problems with opening up to people really stemmed from my parents and their toxic relationship. There was a messy divorce when I was 5 years old, they fought a lot even afterward and that definitely hurt more than it helped us kids. My dad eventually married again and had another family, and although my dad kept in contact through email (early 2000’s) and an occasional phone call our visits grew far and few between. I always wanted to be the light of my dads life, always getting good grades and trying to be the best well mannered kid that ate all of her vegetables and impressed all of the adults. I held out hope that my parents would get back together and I blamed my moms resentful demeanor towards him as the reason why I would never belong to a happy and whole family. In my adolescence though I grew more and more angry at how HE handled things and understood more why she had her outbursts and nights crying in her room. When I finally stood up to him about how he essentially disowned my little sister he cut off contact. I not only grew up thinking I wasn’t worthy of love after my father left but also had no idea of what love looked like. I’ve looked back on a lot of my adult relationships and realized I self sabotage when things start to get really real. I push people away to see if they really care about me.
7 years ago I started dating a guy who I was so overwhelmingly into, he was from a good family, he just got out of the Army, and we had a matching sense of humor. Great right?! But I was the one texting/calling him and trying to make plans, only recently did I realize that I was simply seeking his approval (just like I had with my father) and wondering why I wasn’t good enough to be thought of first. We started dating which I was over the moon about because OH MY GOD HE PICKED ME but soon after I noticed he had bouts of rage but I chocked it up to PTSD from Afghanistan. I stuck through it and I got pregnant after the holidays in 2015.
I got the news and told him the same day but he was less than thrilled and it actually looked like the blood drained from his face. Thats when the switch flipped. He told me he wanted me to get an abortion and that he didn’t want to have a kid with me or anyone. He was cold and heartless for the whole month before I went to the abortion clinic. The day of my appointment, I was sad. I remember my mom texted me that morning telling me she loved me and I wore my late grandmothers comfy sweater so I would feel like I had some support. My ride had to cancel because it snowed so HE had to drive me. He sat with me in the waiting room but I felt utterly alone, he was even joking with his friend via text saying that he was “at the clinic, where miracles go to die” and showed me it thinking I would laugh. I didn’t, I took the phone and threw it across the room. They have you speak with a psychiatrist before you go in and ask you questions like “are you being pressured into this?” Then I was asked “Why are you doing this?” To which I replied “Because I feel like I have nothing to offer a child” and the response that I got was one I’ll never forget and still brings tears to my eyes “you have yourself to offer”. But to me I wasn’t good enough, or so that’s what I had thought all my life. So, I went into the back room, and I got put under during the procedure. I woke up groggy and already sobbing uncontrollably. I was comforted by the nurses briefly and then carted into a room to “recover” for 30 minutes before I could leave. We drove home and even though it was late in the afternoon I went straight to bed and slept.
Two weeks later I found out I had been cheated on for almost my entire relationship. I found out I was pregnant again. I wasn’t sure what to do about my newly ended relationship but I knew I wasn’t going to give up my invitation to motherhood like before. I wasn’t going to let anyone sway my decision, even if that meant raising my child alone. For the whole first trimester of my pregnancy he told me he hoped I had a miscarriage, asked me “if it was still alive” and told me to have another abortion. I didn’t even live with him and he was relentless. I couldn’t sleep, I ate only because I knew I had to, and spent most of my days in my bedroom binging shows or going to the gym. I was depressed and I don’t use that term lightly. I couldn’t keep a job and felt like my world was imploding, I didn’t know what was next but I knew I had hope as long as my child was healthy and I could take care of him.
When we found out it was a boy it’s almost like the switch flipped on again and he was excited for his son to be born. I ended up moving back in with my sons father and for the next 4 years I was treated as a guest in his home and told that I was worthless and to kill myself. I tried to seek help and talk about it with his family but the blind eye kept being turned. I felt that because he was so narcissistic that no one bothered to speak up to him. His mother did, with the first pregnancy, and I’ll always be thankful for that. But the years of emotional and verbal abuse afterward took a huge chunk out of me as an individual. My mother spoke up when I told her that he said to kill myself for about the 8th time but that didn’t stop him from getting in my face from time to time and yelling at me to get the fuck out of his house and to leave our son there. He had a heavy drinking problem and one night pissed on the floor in the bathroom because he couldn’t stand straight, as I stood there in disbelief my son who was 3 years old at the time asked me “why is daddy doing that?” And I decided then that we needed to move out.
After a while I ended up getting my own place a few towns away and he had already been talking to a woman he met online. That was difficult for me only because she has a son almost the same age as mine and not only had I felt instantly replaced but my son was confused as well, and it didn’t make matters easier when he had them move in a few months later. I was out of control with my anger and resentment and started to see a pattern I had seen in my childhood. I would blow up over the phone, name call, and I tried to control the situation any way I knew how.
It wasn’t until mid March of 2020 that I decided I needed to seek real help. I went to my doctor because I had been crying so much and felt like every day was just a blur into the next. I knew that my son deserved better than to see me like that and immediately started therapy and Serotonin inhibitors. My healing process hasn’t been ideal or easy but I guess when you have a major life shift there’s a lot of soul work that needs to be done. I kept up with my therapist and my meds and did a ton of self care. The best advice I can give to anyone is do whatever is self care for you. Take a shower, shave your legs, paint your nails, play with your dog, visit or call friends or family you know love you, sit on the couch and read/write, paint, just do anything that makes you feel even the slightest bit alive because those are the things that kept me going on the hard days. It was really crucial for me that I had a support system, and even when I felt like I didn’t want to talk about something with a loved one I went straight to my therapist or wrote in my journal.
I really wanted to share my experiences to help another person who may have gone through something similar. I feel that sharing our downfalls and our failures brings people together more than pretending our lives are hunky-dory. But even if no one gets any insight or clarity from this, it has helped me IMMENSELY to write it down and let that shit go. I still have a long way to go in realizing what is healthy in a relationship, I recently I lost someone who I truly believed to be the love of my life because of my own toxic behavior. It’s all about coming back to yourself and not expecting anyone else to do the work for you. It’s an uphill climb coming out of a dark hole and remembering who YOU are and what YOU love and where YOU came from but as the pieces come back it’s the most beautiful and grounding thing. We’re learning (and unlearning!) as we go and everyone has their own set of traumas and difficulties, but make sure that you’re not building your wall so high that you’re keeping out the good people too. Love and light to anyone whose read this.
Samantha | #inmyexperience
I think that some of my past abandonment issues along with other problems with opening up to people really stemmed from my parents and their toxic relationship. There was a messy divorce when I was 5 years old, they fought a lot even afterward and that definitely hurt more than it helped us kids. My dad eventually married again and had another family, and although my dad kept in contact through email (early 2000’s) and an occasional phone call our visits grew far and few between. I always wanted to be the light of my dads life, always getting good grades and trying to be the best well mannered kid that ate all of her vegetables and impressed all of the adults. I held out hope that my parents would get back together and I blamed my moms resentful demeanor towards him as the reason why I would never belong to a happy and whole family. In my adolescence though I grew more and more angry at how HE handled things and understood more why she had her outbursts and nights crying in her room. When I finally stood up to him about how he essentially disowned my little sister he cut off contact. I not only grew up thinking I wasn’t worthy of love after my father left but also had no idea of what love looked like. I’ve looked back on a lot of my adult relationships and realized I self sabotage when things start to get really real. I push people away to see if they really care about me.
7 years ago I started dating a guy who I was so overwhelmingly into, he was from a good family, he just got out of the Army, and we had a matching sense of humor. Great right?! But I was the one texting/calling him and trying to make plans, only recently did I realize that I was simply seeking his approval (just like I had with my father) and wondering why I wasn’t good enough to be thought of first. We started dating which I was over the moon about because OH MY GOD HE PICKED ME but soon after I noticed he had bouts of rage but I chocked it up to PTSD from Afghanistan. I stuck through it and I got pregnant after the holidays in 2015.
I got the news and told him the same day but he was less than thrilled and it actually looked like the blood drained from his face. Thats when the switch flipped. He told me he wanted me to get an abortion and that he didn’t want to have a kid with me or anyone. He was cold and heartless for the whole month before I went to the abortion clinic. The day of my appointment, I was sad. I remember my mom texted me that morning telling me she loved me and I wore my late grandmothers comfy sweater so I would feel like I had some support. My ride had to cancel because it snowed so HE had to drive me. He sat with me in the waiting room but I felt utterly alone, he was even joking with his friend via text saying that he was “at the clinic, where miracles go to die” and showed me it thinking I would laugh. I didn’t, I took the phone and threw it across the room. They have you speak with a psychiatrist before you go in and ask you questions like “are you being pressured into this?” Then I was asked “Why are you doing this?” To which I replied “Because I feel like I have nothing to offer a child” and the response that I got was one I’ll never forget and still brings tears to my eyes “you have yourself to offer”. But to me I wasn’t good enough, or so that’s what I had thought all my life. So, I went into the back room, and I got put under during the procedure. I woke up groggy and already sobbing uncontrollably. I was comforted by the nurses briefly and then carted into a room to “recover” for 30 minutes before I could leave. We drove home and even though it was late in the afternoon I went straight to bed and slept.
Two weeks later I found out I had been cheated on for almost my entire relationship. I found out I was pregnant again. I wasn’t sure what to do about my newly ended relationship but I knew I wasn’t going to give up my invitation to motherhood like before. I wasn’t going to let anyone sway my decision, even if that meant raising my child alone. For the whole first trimester of my pregnancy he told me he hoped I had a miscarriage, asked me “if it was still alive” and told me to have another abortion. I didn’t even live with him and he was relentless. I couldn’t sleep, I ate only because I knew I had to, and spent most of my days in my bedroom binging shows or going to the gym. I was depressed and I don’t use that term lightly. I couldn’t keep a job and felt like my world was imploding, I didn’t know what was next but I knew I had hope as long as my child was healthy and I could take care of him.
When we found out it was a boy it’s almost like the switch flipped on again and he was excited for his son to be born. I ended up moving back in with my sons father and for the next 4 years I was treated as a guest in his home and told that I was worthless and to kill myself. I tried to seek help and talk about it with his family but the blind eye kept being turned. I felt that because he was so narcissistic that no one bothered to speak up to him. His mother did, with the first pregnancy, and I’ll always be thankful for that. But the years of emotional and verbal abuse afterward took a huge chunk out of me as an individual. My mother spoke up when I told her that he said to kill myself for about the 8th time but that didn’t stop him from getting in my face from time to time and yelling at me to get the fuck out of his house and to leave our son there. He had a heavy drinking problem and one night pissed on the floor in the bathroom because he couldn’t stand straight, as I stood there in disbelief my son who was 3 years old at the time asked me “why is daddy doing that?” And I decided then that we needed to move out.
After a while I ended up getting my own place a few towns away and he had already been talking to a woman he met online. That was difficult for me only because she has a son almost the same age as mine and not only had I felt instantly replaced but my son was confused as well, and it didn’t make matters easier when he had them move in a few months later. I was out of control with my anger and resentment and started to see a pattern I had seen in my childhood. I would blow up over the phone, name call, and I tried to control the situation any way I knew how.
It wasn’t until mid March of 2020 that I decided I needed to seek real help. I went to my doctor because I had been crying so much and felt like every day was just a blur into the next. I knew that my son deserved better than to see me like that and immediately started therapy and Serotonin inhibitors. My healing process hasn’t been ideal or easy but I guess when you have a major life shift there’s a lot of soul work that needs to be done. I kept up with my therapist and my meds and did a ton of self care. The best advice I can give to anyone is do whatever is self care for you. Take a shower, shave your legs, paint your nails, play with your dog, visit or call friends or family you know love you, sit on the couch and read/write, paint, just do anything that makes you feel even the slightest bit alive because those are the things that kept me going on the hard days. It was really crucial for me that I had a support system, and even when I felt like I didn’t want to talk about something with a loved one I went straight to my therapist or wrote in my journal.
I really wanted to share my experiences to help another person who may have gone through something similar. I feel that sharing our downfalls and our failures brings people together more than pretending our lives are hunky-dory. But even if no one gets any insight or clarity from this, it has helped me IMMENSELY to write it down and let that shit go. I still have a long way to go in realizing what is healthy in a relationship, I recently I lost someone who I truly believed to be the love of my life because of my own toxic behavior. It’s all about coming back to yourself and not expecting anyone else to do the work for you. It’s an uphill climb coming out of a dark hole and remembering who YOU are and what YOU love and where YOU came from but as the pieces come back it’s the most beautiful and grounding thing. We’re learning (and unlearning!) as we go and everyone has their own set of traumas and difficulties, but make sure that you’re not building your wall so high that you’re keeping out the good people too. Love and light to anyone whose read this.