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About AmyM

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  • Birthday 05/16/1990

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  1. "Fouranchors," I am going to share my story in hopes that it can offer some comfort. I have a set of cousins (whom I will refer to as A, M, and V in this post) whose father abandoned them while their mother was dying of cancer. When their mother passed away (when I was about 9 years old), they were put under the care of my grandmother and two aunts (they lived under one roof). About two years later, my parents learned that my cousins were being abused, so they fought for and won custody over my cousins. One year later, A, 19 at the time, got in touch with her "papi" and left us to move in with him. Let's just say that she made a bunch of mistakes, got pregnant within 2 months of leaving, and still on welfare to this very day. Four years later, M fell in love a girl, joined the national guard, went to boot camp, and then moved in with his girlfriend behind my parents backs when he returned from boot camp. In order to make the girlfriend's mom ok with them playing house, M made up some story about my family and I not loving him or wanting him in our house (Apparently, he forgot that we sacrificed just about everything and went into financial ruins to save him and his sisters). That resulted in her mom making my mom out to be some horrible person. V's betrayal helped me learn about the term "sociopath." V was always difficult to say the least. She did not believe that she should have to do chores like the rest of us. She was always trying to bring me down. She would always call me a weak. She tried to call me fat. She criticized everything I did. One year after M's betrayal (my senior year of high school), my mom found out that V was failing a class and was hiding the report card from her. My mom confronted her about it, and the confrontation ended with V raising her hand to hit my mom. A few days later, she attacked one of my cats and left him locked up in a room to suffer (very sociopathic). You know something is wrong with a person when cats refuse to be on the same floor as someone. We had a court date shortly after that incident (When you take custody of someone, you have to have an annual court hearing to see how things are going). My mom told the judge what had been going on, so the judge asked V if she wanted to live with us. She said no. When the judge asked her why, her exact words were,"Because they make me do chores." The judge decided to put her in a halfway home until further judgement. We had to pack up her stuff and bring it to the place. My mom and I ended up finding a bunch of notes she had written basically cursing my mom and me simply for existing. I could not believe how much hatred she had towards us; all we ever tried to do was reach out to her. We ended up being forced to go to group therapy with V. The quack "completely neutral" social workers would start the sessions off explaining how poor V has been through so much and is struggling with self-esteem, so we all had to say something positive about her. When that was finished, V would shed tears and make up some story about how we mistreated her and how we "deprived her of a happy life." It got to the point that my mom was almost charged with neglect and I was almost taken away too (I was not yet 18). My mom has always suffered from depression, but the stress and pain from my cousins's betrayals and attacks drove her to become suicidal. She would actually tell me, her daughter, how she sometimes wants to take a gun and shoot herself (there was actually a gun in my house, so I was terrified). I would go to school, pray to God that my mom would not kill herself, and then go to what I would call "gang up on and attack my family sessions." I would bring up the incidents with V hitting my mom and hurting my cat, but the social workers refused to address them because V had a different version of the story. My family and I were afraid because the idiots wanted to place V back in my house. Thankfully, a psych eval. determined that there was something wrong with V (they wouldn't say exactly what, but I believe it is that she is a sociopath) and the report explained that putting V back in my house would be a physical threat to our lives. The "group sessions" ended and V was taken out of my life forever that day. It has been four and a half years since V was taken out of my life. While I cannot say that my family and I have completely recovered from the trauma, i can say that we have found peace again. We have even experienced joy. I understand the feeling of dying from stress. I have also gone through emotional traumatic stress disoerder. It is possible to overcome (at least enough to experience peace again). I pray that you can get this ex completely out of your life. I pray that you too can find peace again. I pray that you can find healing from your wounds. I really help I helped you at least a little bit, -Amy
  2. Ele, I am so sorry for your loss. Mark, who was like a father to me and played a very influencial role in my life, commited suicide on September 10, 2012. I have my full story on the not getting easier forum. It was hard enough losing his wife to cancer earlier in the summer, then he had to go kill himself. I was in my final semester at the time, and I could not drop any classes. Balancing my intense classes with my job and other respsonsiblities while grieving was probably the hardest thing I ever had to do. I missed a lot of class because there were days when I was just too exhausted to get out of bed. I missed other days because my mind was overwhelmed with rage and hurt from what Mark did to me (and everyone else who loved him) that there was no way that I would be able to sit and focus in class. I talked to my boss and professors about my situation. I was able to cut down on hours when work was not as busy. One professor was so understanding that she let me turn in my assignments at my own pace (I rarely turned in an assignment on time, yet she never deducted points). My other professors were not so understanding, so I put their work at the top of my priortiy list. I took things day by day, hour by hour, and sometimes even minute by minute. I did the best I could with my assignments, and just kept moving forward. While my grades were not grades that I am particulary proud of, I did pass. Walking across the stage to receive my diploma was the most triumphant moment of my life. You can get through the semester. Talk to your professor/advisor about your situation and take it from there. Remember that you can only do the best that you can do under the circumstances. I pray that God gives you the strength to get through the semester. -Amy
  3. Dean G., I haven't really cried over my loss, either, and I learned of Mark's suicide on September 11. Honestly, it wasn't until about two weeks ago that I finally shed a few tears. I was really missing Mark that day, and I ended up having an argument with my mom on the same day. She hurt my feelings, and then I all of a sudden snapped and started crying. I do not know why some people can't cry when they lose someone (I wanted so desperately to cry but could not for whatever reason, so I would actually pray to God to give me the ability to cry for an hour). In my case, I guess it was due to shock and numbness for a long time followed by a period of anger (which I still have some of). Or maybe I had so much I had to deal with at the time that I could not afford to actually mourn. Don't feel bad or guilty that you have not cried. It does not mean you did not love your best friend, or that their passing means less to you than anyone else. Everyone grieves in different ways. Michele, thank you for your words. I understand what your daughter felt. There were times when I honestly thought I was going to fail out of college in my final semester. I also had to talk to my professors, ask for extensions here and there, and drop any responsiblilty or organization membership I did not absolutely have to do. Some of my professors were more understanding and accomodating than I ever could have imagined; others (one in particular) showed no mercy and made my already shattered life even more of a living hell. I took it hour by hour, and just kept moving forward. I did not make grades that I am particularly proud of, but I passed nonetheless. I will say that walking across the stage to receive my diploma was the most proudest moment of my life. i graduated against all odds. I pray that your daugter's final semester is much better than her fall semester.
  4. I am so sorry for everyone's loss. It both comforts me and saddens me that other people know what I have been going through. I lost two of the most influential people in my life last year. My friend Deanne, who was like a mother to me, was unexpectedly diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer (she had not had any prior symptoms). She died 33 days later on May 18, 2012 from complications. I couldn't go to her memorial service due to obligations with my job and college (the economy caused me to be the only person in my family with a job, and I could not drop my classes as much as I wanted to because of financial aid). I had to remind myself that Deanne was no longer suffering in pain on a daily basis to get myself through my obligations during that summer. Just as I was beginning to accept Deanne's death, I found out that her widower husband Mark committed suicide on September 11, 2012. Apparently, the grief from losing his wife of 11 years was too much for him. Mark was literally the last person I ever would have imagined to kill himself. As a pastor, he gave every moment (except his final ones) of his life to God. He was so full of life. He had no depression prior to Deanne's death. When Deanne died, his entire church congregation stood by him and offered him endless support, and he had been getting counseling, Mark was one of the godliest men I knew, yet in one moment, he defied everything he ever believed in and took his life. The man who welcomed me with open arms when most of society hated me for my race, who showed me what it truly meant to be a Christian and ultimated largely influenced my decision to become Christian, who stood by my side and helped baptize me just one year ago, who was more family to me than 90 percent of my blood relatives, and who would always tell me to never give up and trust in the Lord for strength no matter how seemingly impossible and dark life got killed himself. Once again, due to obligations with school and work (last fall was my final semester as an undergrad, and some of my professors were not understanding of my tragedy), I could not go to his memorial service. I haven't been able to even see anyone who was close with Mark since the weekend his wife died. That has been the hardest for me. I haven't gotten any form of closure, and although I have a group of incredibly good friends who have been there to listen or hug me, they haven't suffered a suicide death. I have been such a wreck since Mark died. Even though I was able to pass my final semester of college, I was almost always overwhelmed with my schoolwork and my family's financial hardshiip. It seemed like the more pain I was in, the more responsibility that was thrown at me. I am struggling with my faith. I have also struggled with various forms of guilt. The enitre year before Mark's death, I had bad luck with my health. I suffered a black widow spider bite towards the end of 2011 that nearly killed me and destroyed my health. Four months later, I suffered a near fatal asthma attack. While my health is much better today, it is still not 100%. I often wonder why I am alive and not Mark and Deanne. I sometimes feel guilty that I lived and they didn't. Mark and Deanne knew their life purpose; I have no idea what I am supposed to do with my life. Also, Mark was heavy on my mind the day before he died. It is almost as if I sensed something was seriously wrong with him. I would have called him that Monday night, but since I had so many assignments due that Tuesday morning that I decided to wait until the following day to call him. That was the Tuesday I found out that Mark had killed himself the night before. I wished I would have called him that night. I wonder if I could helped him had I called. Does anyone else ever feel angry or disappointed with your loved one who committed suicide? I feel so bad for feeling so angry with Mark, but he hurt me so much. He stained his legacy by going against his own beliefs. He abandoned an entire church congregation. I feel so guilty that part of me is angry with Mark because I know that he was in so much pain when he took his life he felt like there was no other option. I miss him so much; I don't want to be angry with him. Thegirl, I am so sorry that you do not have a support system to help you. I do not know what I would do without my friends and family. There are a few things that have helped me get through the days. Maybe they can help you too. I remind myself that Mark and Deanne would want me to "move on," so I make an effort to maintain my routine (though some days that was just impossible). Dance has really helped me cope. The day Mark died was also the first day of rehearsals for a dance show I was in. Mark and Deanne never got to see me perform while they were alive, so I poured my heart into rehearsals knowing that they would be watching me from above. Dance time is a time where I can channel all of emotions and/or forget about everything and just dance. Maybe you can find some activity for yourself as a way to channel emotions? Also, I would recommend taking up yoga or meditation to help with your panic attacks and sleeping problems. Yoga has helped me clear my mind when it can't seem to stop racing, and it has helped me learn how to control my breathing (very good for asthma and anxiety). Also, melatonin is a natural supplement that would help you sleep if yoga or meditation don't help you. I am praying for peace and strength for everyone. -Amy