Five Major Forces in My Life

There was a time in my life that I was so confused, scared, insecure, and just plain insignificant as far as I was concerned. Somewhere along the way I started my journey into self realization. I was attending Sinclair Community College and decided to focus on Mental Health. Mine to be exact, and if when it was over, I graduated, I would be proud to help others.

In one of my classes I was given an assignment to write about only 5 major forces in my life. At first I wasn't sure that I could even come up with one, only to realize that I had so many that I didn't know which ones should be picked to write about. Which ones define me. Well, at the time I had to pick 5 and these are the five that won.

1. My parents divorce and remarriage to others
One of the very first reasons that I am who I am today is my parents. My mom was very young and both parents were irresponsible at the time of their marriage and from what I have picked up they stayed that way for quite some time. At the age of fifteen my mom gave birth to a baby girl who was stillborn; at seventeen she had my brother; and at nineteen she had me. My parents did not make it. After the divorce my mom found she could not provide for all of us so she gave my father temporary custody of my brother and me.I do not remember much from these years for whatever reasons. My life began when my mom and step-dad went to court and got custody back. I remember it was about half way Thur kindergarten.

My brother and I both knew our real dad but we did not see him much and eventually even the occasional visits stopped. He had his reasons but we did not understand them. Personally, I could not figure out why he stopped loving me.

My step-dad, now he was something else. I loved him and he loved me. I was the typical "Daddy's little girl.' All I had to do was ask and I received if it was at all possible and even sometimes when it was not or should not have been.

If I would ever had to choose who I would want as my daddy I would have to choose my step-dad. Even though this was the case I still had a problem where men were concerned. My theory was, "My own father did not love me how can anyone else?' The only exception to this was my 'daddy'.

Life goes on and one small theory shapes and forms me into young adulthood.

2. My attempted suicide
At age nineteen I attempted suicide. I just could not take IT (life) anymore! When a girlfriend came over and found my notes, one to my mom, my dad, and my boyfriend, and found the empty pill bottles she proceeded to try to wake me up and called my doctor when she couldn't. She then proceeded to take me to the emergency room. The severity of what I had done did not really hit me for days afterwords. I finally realized that I was very lucky to be alive. I had taken enough pills in volume to kill me. Luckily I did not know more about drugs because the life-saving factor was that I took uppers and downers, taking me on a roller coaster ride that lasted for several months as they were counteracting each other. I lived!

I was advised to go into counseling, which I did. I stopped going to group when I thought I was all better, I knew I was completely well. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening!

3. My marriage and divorce
At the age of twenty-five I got married. We were happy for a little while; then he hit me for the first time. I left him. I ran home to Mommy and daddy. I was not one to accept physical violence. I once had a boyfriend who swatted me on the bottom because my mom told him to--he had to ask before he could even hold my hand for a good two weeks.

After leaving my husband I found out I was going to have a baby. This changed things for me because I did not think I could take care of a baby by myself. (Was this because my mom couldn't?) I returned to my husband. He did not hit me again until after my baby was born. I excused it by calling a smack or slap and I just might have deserved it because I was egging him on in the fight.

Each time he hit me it got worse and worse. I guess one of the ways I also excused it was that it was only about every four to six months that this happened and he was always sorry. In between this time he would build up my self esteem, make me feel good about myself and life only to knock me down to nothing in one afternoon or evening of fighting.

Three kids later and after a lot of ups and downs I finally worked up enough guts and gumption to fight back when he hit me. I left permanent nail marks on his back before I walked out the door, leaving him and my boys there.

I called the police, had him arrested, and went back into take care of my boys. About a year previously my husband had been diagnosed alcoholic. In that year I did some research, went to Al-anon. We tried out-patient rehabilitation but he did not want any help.

I used my charges as leverage to get my divorce and then I immediately put my kids into a group for kids of alcoholic parents
s. I myself seen the same therapist. It did not take him long to make me see that years ago I had only scratched the surface and that I only appeared to be healthy.

4. My fathers death
At the age of eighteen I started seeing my real father and we started the long process of building a relationship.

After my divorce I moved to the small town my father lived in so we got to build allot quicker during that time.

I still did not believe that he really loved me mainly because I had grown up using this as my excuse for everything bad that ever happened to me. Like habits, beliefs die hard.

I loved my father and we got along pretty well most of the time. A few disagreements flared up, but what the heck, i am my fathers' daughter.

My fathers health was slowly getting worst, but none of us expected his death when it happened. It is hard to write all the exceptions that ran Thu me on the way to the hospital that morning and I'm sure there were some that I don't even remember having. I remember wondering if he had gotten his lunchment and cookies for supp the night before that he had wanted. The next thing I remember asking through my tears was, did she, my sister-in-law, think that he knew I loved him because I did not tell him that I did but maybe once when I was eighteen. I was now thirty-five. I felt so guilty for never telling him this.

After my sister-in-law convinced me that of course he knew, all parents know when their kids love them, I honestly felt walls falling down around me. I knew why they were falling also.

I had to believe that my father knew I loved him no matter what in order to make it through this ordeal and in believing this I also had to accept the fact that he loved me. The falling wall was my theory, "My own father did not love me, how could anyone else?"

I regrouped and re-evaluated my life. The last BIG wall had fallen and the few remaining small ones would soon follow.

5. My three sons
I would say that my boys are another major force that has helped me become the me I am today. They have helped and supported me like no other 6,10, and 11 year old can.

While I was in nursing school they helped in the house, let me sleep in if they knew I had been up late i
he night before doing homework or studying. They worried over my tests and assignments more than me and I worried plenty.

My 11 year old would cook supper may times so I would be able to study longer. We usually had mac and cheese those nights but he was trying to help. After I failed anatomy and physiology, I came home in tears and ran into my bedroom yelling at them to leave me alone, they waited until they could hear no more tears and all three of them came in to see if I was alright. They brought me paper flowers, candy, and a poem.

The poem was written by my 11 year old and even if it can not compare with Elizabeth Barret Browning it was and will be one of the very special things in my life. I read:

"Dear, Vicky

We all have faled in something so here is a poam.

Roses are red, Vilets are blue and so are you.

But we can help you but you have to help to.

We all know that you tried but you did't pass.

So don't get mad and stay alert.

Your son,

Beau McKnight"

I changed my major around from LPN specializing in Mental Health to Mental Health and they are all for it, knowing that we are going to be on our tightrope for another year and a half longer than we had previously planned.

I think that if they were not who they are I would not be who I am today. They are helping by giving me only a few headaches as apposed to allot of them and making my life easier as a parent so I can direct more energy to being a student.

I think that I have worked so hard to become healthy for myself, sure, but my main force has been my kids. It must be that mothers need to take care of her kids that has brought me through and allot of help from God, myself, and my loved ones.