It's been awhile

For the past few weeks, I've been trying to get my medicines and feelings right and on track. Not too easy...
In with the Lamotrigin, out with the Serotonins, and this (according to docs orders) should happen -wapisch- in about four weeks. Yeik. But now I'm finally kind of free from Serotonins at least. Can't say it feels all that great though, but I think (carefully allowing myself to feel a tiny amount of hope here) that this might work out for me.


Unfortunately the arthritis is kicking my ass right now. I would have preferred it to be the other way around of course. When my body acts like this, I'm always a bit torn down. Feelings of worthlessness and frustration over that I can't move and be around everything like I so badly want to, is overwhelming.


One of the reasons I actually have been on the serrots for all these years is just that - a painful body that some days seem to make every effort to drag my limbs through hell.
I understand very well that some of my pain is psychosomatic, and a result of a abusive, rough childhood. My body has, during the first twelve years of my life, taking quite a heavy amount of being beaten up severely from time to time, and on top of that, the psychic abuse that actually were -and still is- the hardest thing to come to peace with now as a grown up.


Of course the body reacts to all that, I know. But nevertheless, my pain is very real for several reasons. One of the reasons is that my spine and neck is injured because my mother pushed me down the stairs as an eight year old girl. That left me bound to the bed for almost a month. A couple of years later she crashed our car in high speed, with me in the passenger seat. (Guess who she left in the car, not even looking at, nor helping to get out...)
The list can be long and cruel, but I don't have the energy and courage to get into that today.
I've often heard "Why didn't anyone report this abuse?" Anybody, my grannies or neighbors or just anyone. School?
Because she blamed it mostly on me. Saying that I just seeked attention by calling on pain and whining to the level that she gave up and let me have my way "as the good mother to a psychical ill child" she was. How warm hearted of her. Strange though that she didn't seek psychiatric help for this nerve-racking child of hers...?


As you notice, I'm angry about this, giving my childhood a lot of  
though right now. Too bad one can't stop the thinking and feelings just like that.


My hope is that I might give someone (that neighbor or relatives or others) the courage to actually react and do something, even if you're just suspecting something's wrong, not having any real proof. You could save someone's childhood...