My life started on March 2nd 1973. 
In july of that same year I was put in fostercare. I was shuffled through a couple of homes before I was placed with the Roberts family who later adopted me. My childhood was mostly hell. Although I was in a loving family, I was lost in the shuffle most of the time. Being the 10 child of 12 you can see how this could happen.

I had three things that I had to deal with as a child. First a birth defect, cleft pallet and hair lip that required many surgeries. Second, biological parents that would drop in just long enough to disrupt my life. Third, I was severely molested by a neighbor lasting most of my childhood. Not to mention horrible lows and incredible highs.

In my adolescent years I began to self medicate myself. Smoking weed drinking alcohol these help me come down from my intense moods. The depression was the worst the first time I wanted to die I was in 4th grade. Anyway in my high school years I turned to cocaine to help me deal with the depression . Unfortualatly the cocaine worked too well I was hooked. A year of my life gone no idea where it went. I got off the cocaine fortunately on my own with Gods help. But I turned to crank it wasn't so addicting although I always thought I had to have it, so perhaps it was.

Finally I decided to join the Army. I was gone to the east coast for Basic Training within 2 months. I was running from the drugs, the way of life, the memories etc. It worked I became clean turned to alcohol for a short while but essentially I got clean and sober. Met my husband got married and was very happy.

Returning to my childhood home proved to be harder than I thought after my Army time. Memories of my past abuse were thrown in my face I managed this way for a couple of years. Finally I broke, I say finally because it is a blessing not to have all of those secrets to myself. I got to TELL! It was at this time I started therapy and got put on paxil for ptsd symptoms. 

Paxil caused me to go what I now know as being manic. I went so high. I spent a lot of money. At the same time my father was dieing. It was hell. Dad died in December 1999, I was diagnosed january 2000. It was hard without my fathers help and support. For me it was a relief that I was going to be helped. I was scared but ready. 

My husband took it harder than I. In fact we separated in Sept. 2000 for 6 mo. We are still in couples counseling but doing well at home together he is trying to understand the illness. And I am so happy to have his support finally.

This is my life story I hope it has helped someone it was difficult to write/type whatever lol. I will tell you one thing if I had to do over again. I wouldn't change any of my responses that I did to survive. They helped me make it. I am glad.


Thanks Christine




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