At around age 8, my grandfather started sexually abusing me. It wasn't once, or twice, but over a period of about 3-4 years, it was continual. There were many times that I spent the night at Grammie and Grandpa's house, and he seemed to always do it after Grammie would go to bed. Otherwise, it was most often at my house when he and Grammie would come to visit. I didn't tell anyone for multiple reasons, the main one being, my grandpa told me not to. Plus, at first, I didn't know there was anything wrong with what he was doing as he told me it was a way for him to show me he loved me. It made sense. I never questioned his explanation until I FELT it was wrong, like around age 10. Then I started questioning why he always took me into my bedroom to show me he loved me, and why he only did it when no-one else was around. I started to feel uncomfortable, enough to the point that I would hide or make myself scarce whenever he would come to the house.
At some point, the abuse stopped. I honestly don't remember when exactly or why, I just know it stopped when I was about ready to enter the Young Womens program at church. I was relieved that I no longer had to hide or avoid Grandpa any more and that I was then too old to do the Friday night sleepovers.
But it was already too late. Those 3-4 years had triggered some emotions and physical feelings in my mind and body that I was WAY too young to be experiencing at that age. I had already started my period at age 9 and I'm pretty sure hormones and mood swings were in full force by the time I was 11 or 12. I became a nightmare to my parents. I was boy crazy like no other!! I had emotions all over the map - happy one moments, sad the next. Angry, deceitful, flirty, rebellious, stubborn, obnoxious and just overall, a very big handful of stress for my parents. At the time, I had no idea why the drastic change in my thinking and acting and of course, my parents were clueless. Not because they didn't care, but because they just didn't know what to see or look for.
My years between 12-18 were very difficult for me. I was not very cute - redhead, glasses, freckles, braces - you could have just put a bulls eye on my forehead that said 'ugliest girl in school' and that would have been me. So I tried to be popular and failed miserably. I tried to be smart and failed miserably. But the one thing I could do was, I could sing. And I could sing well. I was in choir, the only one who could sing an alto part. And I didn't need any help doing it. I was loud and had a strong voice. I was able to pick out my part and know it before the teacher even had to teach me it. I was the lead in all the school musicals and got 'good and positve' attention from the success of my singing. I had found my niche in life.
Going into high school, my emotions and behavior were the same, just at a high school level. My boy craziness and need for opposite sex attention was increasing. I was needing to be loved - validated - wanted etc. My dad was in a position in the church that he dealt with the missionaries, of which I flirted with every single one that would allow me to. I would lie to be important. I was doing sneaky things and becoming a master deceiver of my life. This continued all through high school and in to my first year at BYU.
When I was age19, my dad was called as a mission president to Chile and so I moved, along with my family, to South America and became a full time missionary. Before leaving the country though, I spent two months in the Prove MTC, where I found myself interacting with about 2000 19 yr old Elders. Not a good situation for me as I had just left the scenario of a BYU coed flirting with anyone wearing pants on campus. Now, I found myself in the same situation with only a few different details - the pants had changed from jeans to a suit and I wasn't on campus anymore, but at the MTC. But it was still me and 2000 young men. Before leaving the MTC two months later, I had told at least 3 young Elders that I was in love with them and they were sure I would write the whole mission and then marry them when we got home. I'm so sorry.
My mission was a disaster. It was OBVIOUS I was there for the wrong reason. I had no testimony, I had no desire to be there and I was totally undisciplined and disobedient. I found myself falling for the one missionary who was also there for the wrong reasons but was going home in about 6 months. But that gave us just enough time to 'fall in love', proclaim our loyalty to each other before my dad found out and said elder went home on time. No further details.
I came home to a guy I had dated before the mission that just seemed to want to play games with me - and I did NOT have time for that. So my searching for love went into FULL THROTTLE HIGH GEAR. I kissed tons - led on about 4 guys at a time - two of those elders came home hoping to marry me and I played with them long enough to hook them hard and then DUMP. I was engaged 3 times and was getting deeper and deeper into a hole I could not see myself getting out of. Promiscuous??? The worst. Not even morally conscious of any of my actions. The missionary from Chile? He had played me and when I got home, he was engaged to be married. I finally knew how it felt to be the one on the being dumped end of the game. It hurt. That wasn't going to happen again.
I was miserable and I was making a lot of people miserable right along with me. Mind you, my parents are still in Chile at this time and I have secrets - demons - skeletons - that are all trying to get out of my closet. But I've become a master at keeping that closet door securely closed. And I'm not about to change my plan yet.
Enter Del Lott. Good guy - hard working farm boy from Idaho. Handsome, kind, slightly awkward, very spiritual, honest and looks great in jeans and boots. I start my game that I have become so expert at but he's not as easily persuaded that I am all that I am portraying myself to be. To state it simply, he's just not falling for my leading role. I'm figuring I may actually have to make some sincere changes.
Long story short, I make some necessary changes to at least make Del think I may be worth the fight of going through all the remaining changes together. But it will take some time to get rid of a LOT of bad habits established since the age of eight. I had become an expert attention getter, liar, drama queen and emotional wreck.
Add to that, our first child, Michael.
The reason for giving you all this background is to establish the fact that I was a justified and certified NUT CASE!!
Our Michael was born with some life threatening physical issues of which he succumbed to the Christmas after his 2nd birthday. I can't do the details at this time of his 2 years on this earth and all that encompassed for both Del and me. Suffice it to say, Michael was our whole lives - every waking moment and most generally our sleeping moments also. His death created a void in our lives that remained hallow and empty for years to come. And it just fueled my CRAZY into a frenzy of ups and downs. I went numb for years. No emotions, until I finally couldn't function any more. One of my first meltdowns happened right before finding out I was finally, after almost 4 years, pregnant with Jordan.
Between the pregnancy, delivery and hormones bouncing off the walls, I was soon pregnant again with Kylie. Four years later came Kathryn. I'm now pretty much running on emotional fumes.
Enter...PAXIL.
I knew I needed help the moment I had Jordan pinned up against the wall with my left hand and my right hand about ready to punch him in the face. I remember the look on his face and immediately dropped him and called the doctor.
My first diagnosis of depression and hormonal imbalance - and I was given drugs. Del was not to pleased. Thought it could be dealt with in many other ways other than that of medication. I told him that I needed his support, not shame.
I have always been known as lively and the life of the party. If I'm not making people laugh and having fun, I'm not doing my job. The medication changed a little of that for me. Instead of the high highs and the low lows, I was more even keel - kind of emotionally flatlined. But I was okay with that.
I've been on Paxil and other meds for over 30 years now. I've attempted a few times to ween myself off the meds only to find myself back to high highs and low lows. I don't want to do that. And yet, I'm not necessarily completely flatlined either. I have been able to find a happy balance of my emotions, although my anxiety level is at an all time high. I'm not able to handle a few situations as positively and with as much confidence as I used to - mainly in singing. Of all things, the thing I love the most, I no longer do. I don't sing anymore. I've lost a lot of my quality so as to not really perform anymore, but I will still sing in the car and the shower. I got rid of almost all the stress in my life by quitting my job back in June. So between that and no longer trying to meet the expectations and dreams of everyone else, I have taken to reading my scriptures hours a day, relaxing more with my family and grandchildren and enjoying my life of retirement. I even take naps!! I've increased my temple attendance, often going alone at least twice a month and the other times with Del.
The spirit often pushes me into a space of growth that exists only outside my comfort zone. So I've tried to widen my comfort zone a little to be able to experience this growth that I need at this time in my life. Baby steps.
I'm no longer shamed to acknowledge that I need help in being mentally healthy and capable of handling life's situations that come my way. I need help. I am trying to take better care of the overall me. I find much more joy when I am emotionally balanced.
So, I take my Paxil, read my scriptures, attend the temple, increase my prayers and try to serve those of whom I have stewardship over with a cheerful and willing heart.
No more skeleton's in my closet!!
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