Could it Be Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?

My new counselor mentioned PTSD. I figure she's thinking that my oversensitivity to chemicals is due to the scents triggering some sort of subconscious memory. I've been told that before, but know it to be false. You just have to experience it to understand. I'll equate it to breathing sleeping gas before undergoing surgery. The gas used induces unconsciousness...there is not an emotional component. Well the same thing happens when I breath petroleum products (like asphalt being laid, pumping gasoline, etc) and breathe in certain colognes and perfumes. My head spins, I struggle to walk straight and stay conscious. I get confused about where I am and become very uncoordinated. There is no emotional component except that it is emotionally taxing to have to go through such a struggle and to be so misunderstood.

But I'm looking at the explanation of PTSD and can see a rightful place for the dx in my life. It is not the direct cause of my chemical and stress sensitivities, but there have certainly been traumatic events in my life that resurface over and over and over again. I've referred to it as obsessing. I've tried to move forward and not obsess...to focus on what is, not what was. To forgive, let go, put what I cannot control into God's hands. I feel led to make a list of the events the definition says should have been traumatic (but that don't play a significant role as far as I can tell in my life/mind right now). And then I want to make a list of my unique big stressors that I think others wouldn't have a problem with at all. I'll then give the list to my counselor if she thinks she would find it useful in helping me think more clearly and have a healthier perspective and expectations.

Here's the list I found online that I'm going by:
Kinds of traumatic events People with PTSD most often experience one or more of these four types of traumatic events:
Seeing someone being killed or badly injured
Living through a fire, flood or natural disaster
Living through a life-threatening accident
Having been in combat
But many other traumatic events also can lead to post-traumatic stress disorder, including rape, mugging, robbery, assault, civil conflict, car accident, plane crash, torture, kidnapping, life-threatening medical diagnosis, childhood physical abuse or neglect, sexual molestation, being threatened with a weapon, terrorist attacks, and other extreme or life-threatening events.

Traumatic Events defined by others:
#1 SEEING SOMEONE BEING KILLED OR BADLY INJURED:
A. I used to work in ER...I've seen a LOT of tragedy....people shot up, two daughters dying the same night from a car wreck (very traumatic day). I probably did have PTSD for a short time after that one. The grief I witnessed from the mother was the most disturbing part. I also had a difficult time dealing with the callousness of the medical personnel. I guess over time they become calloused to survive the daily trauma. When I worked in oncology and intensive care, it was much easier. Death was not such a shock, and was welcomed by some.

B. I was first to arrive at the scene of a man thrown from his motorcycle near where we lived in LeSage. He did not have a helmet on and his head hit the railroad track. I did not find this as stressful as others because he was not in pain and there was nothing that I needed to do other than call 911. I didn't witness any family grieving...but felt it so tragic for someone to be alive one moment probably with dreams and plans, and be gone the next instant. He had used poor judgement making a left hand turn without looking, and not wearing a helmet. I hurt for the person who hit his cycle...since this same thing happened to my brother and I was aware of what legalities and emotions may be plaguing the other driver. But it wasn't my guilt. I wasn't to blame and I was there to help. That is why it didn't stress me.

C. I was at my mother's bedside when she died. I took care of her for six months while she battled colon cancer. It was one of the most peaceful times of my life, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. At the moment of her passing, I hurt for my dad though. We were always taught not to show emotion. He wailed, and I figured his pain had to be very extreme for him to do that. I feel other people's pain...always have. Sometimes I feel it more intensely than they do...lol. My brother and sisters stuffed back any emotion as I did. It was a very awkward moment. My brother and I handled it with humor. I remember the jokes we told as he was getting a haircut for the funeral. I'm sure the barber thought we were nuts. He was probably right.

I mentioned in counseling that I'm relieved my mother is gone. I felt guilty about that for a while (10 years maybe). I talked to my brother about it. It took him a very long time to ever grieve her loss as well. I'm not glad that she suffered. But I am glad that she is with Christ (I know she is), I'm glad for those months we had together prior to her death that were very different than our usual role of parent and child. I'm glad that death brought a relief of suffering for her. God was merciful. By the time of her passing, she was ready. I also had a two week old baby which was comforting to have a new life come as another life passed.

My mother didn't approve of my choice for a church, a husband, my choice of a career, the place I lived, etc, etc. etc. I was always a disappointment to her. She wanted me to be Catholic instead of Pentecostal. When she learned after the fact that I had gone to Haiti on a mission trip, she told me she'd rather I'd stuck my head in a toilet. She thought I should have studied to become a doctor instead of a nurse, but yet when she needed nursing care, I was prepared to help her. That made me feel that perhaps she could see my life wasn't a total waste...lol. She didn't want me to have children before I finished college. I didn't finish college due to mental illness, but yet had children anyway. She hated my mother-in-law who was very disrespectful to her (she is to everybody), and I didn't look forward to the stress and battles that lie ahead. My mother had not been a big part of my life since I left home at age 16. And I knew having a child might change that. I feared not being able to cope with having a closer relationship with her. At times though I wonder how she might have changed over the decades and what type of relationship we might have now if she were still here, but God is in control not me...and what is...is. I long for a mentor in my life. I feel that a large part of my immaturity is from not having anyone in my life as a mentor.

D. OK...here is another one I found stressful. There was a lady in the ER, the doctor was foreign...from India I think. He cut her open right there in the ER without her being anaesthetised to drain the fluid from her lungs. He was cutting through her rib while she was screaming. He was telling her to suck it up...and she was cussing him. I was standing there observing, trying not to pass out. Someone told me that's just the way it is with these foreign doctors. They don't use anesthesia in their countries. But we are in America. That just wasn't right. It wasn't necessary. She didn't die. But that image of me standing by doing nothing, helpless to help her as I was trying to keep myself from passing out was the source of many nightmares.

#2 LIVING THROUGH A FIRE, FLOOD, OR NATURAL DISASTER:
A.. Hmmm. Floods are just a part of our lives. We've lost antique furniture, cars, riding mowers, have to deal with disinfecting mold/mildew/human waste. We can't get flood insurance because we live in a flood zone. No big deal..it's just stuff. We know the risks, we know the routine. We save what we can. When exhaustion sets in, we let the rest go. My step mom called once to see how I was doing. I was ill and just didn't care. The kids and I were safe. We shut the power off, took the necessities up to the second floor and were just waiting it out. My step mom called the national guard to come get us...lol. That was comical. They 'saved' a reporter who had climbed aboard their monster tank to keep his equipment from going under water, but I didn't see the sense in it for us...and apparently neither did the other residents. I told the rescuer that we didn't need rescued, the water was already going down. He told me he couldn't guarantee that it would continue to go down. It was silliness. But the good thing about it is that I was very touched that my step mother cared enough to do something to help us. That touched me in a positive way. Perhaps the flooding would be more traumatic if we feared losing our lives, but the flood levels are controlled. It only gets so high before the city turns on some sort of pumps.

B. I used to have recurring night terrors about our home being washed away when we lived on the Ohio River. We had to be rescued by canoes. It was before we had children. Those night terrors were traumatic. But real life flooding has not been. It's just an overwhelming task of getting everything back to order afterwards.

C. We lived through a hurricane in Myrtle Beach, SC. Our town was evacuated. We stayed because Mike was emergency personnel. We stayed with him at the electric company because we had nowhere else to go. We were not close to any family at the time. I found it adventurous. We were huddled in the phone room with the ceiling tiles flapping due to the high winds. I had peace knowing God is in control. The only stressful part was that I sensed Mike was embarrassed to have us with the people he worked with. I choose not to visit that issue in my mind. It's over, it's past, and he is different now. It was stressful at the time to feel like an embarrassment to him, but he is a very proud husband and father now, and we are friends with many people he currently works with. When we returned to our home, it was amazing that many homes around us were destroyed by either wind or flooding or both, and ours was untouched. God is good.

#3 LIVING THROUGH A LIFE-THREATENING ACCIDENT
A. I'm racking my brain trying to think of the accident's I've been in. The most stressful ones are when I'm driving my parent's car...just a fender benders...but the trauma of facing them. I don't suppose that falls under the category of life-threatening though, so I'll move on.

B. A car was coming toward me on the wrong side of the road. I had to drive off the road to avoid it, and we passed without incidence. But as I tried to come back on to the road, I lost control of the car and the car rolled down a hill. I was pregnant at the time and wasn't wearing a seat belt because of the way it hit my belly and I had read that the risk would be higher to the baby. So, I braced myself with my hands on the ceiling and stayed in place. The windshield shattered and I had a few minor cuts. Other than that, I had pulled muscles in my shoulders and back. I crawled out through the broken passenger window feeling so thankful to be alive and thankful that I had cleaned my car out the day before...especially that bowling ball...lol. A nearby resident called 911 and came to see if I was ok. He said he was so surprised and relieved to see me crawling out, but became very concerned when he saw I was pregnant. Ashley was fine too. The car was totalled, but I had bought and paid for it myself. I didn't have anyone else to answer to...and that's why it wasn't stressful.

C. I was a passenger in a car that caught fire. I jumped out while it was still moving. My body hair and eyelashes were singed by the flames that came in when I opened the door, but I wasn't burned. I scraped my knee and bruised by elbow from falling on the pavement, but I was ok. The driver was ok too. He waited longer to get out and was burned more. The car didn't explode or anything like in the movies. The fire dept. came and put the fire out. The entire dashboard was melted. I was in college at the time, and my journal required for English class was burned, along with a few of my text books that were replaceable. I think the most stressful part was my English professor not believing me because I didn't go to the hospital. Did he think I'd burn my eyelashes off myself LOL just to have an excuse not have to turn my journal in? I didn't go to the hospital because I wasn't injured. I hate for people not to believe me...as if by them not believing me, it invalidates me somehow. I thought about trying to re-create my journal, but didn't...and took the bad grade...bad grades were traumatic for me.

#4 HAVING BEEN IN COMBAT
A. The only combat I've been in is with my mother-in-law. She tried to take custody of my first two children. Until I met her, I'd never encountered anyone like her...and was in total shock of the carefully laid plans, the lies weaved, the witnesses she is able to produce for things that never happened. She is a woman who doesn't take no for an answer and will go to any length to get what she wants. Yes, even murder...she has killed animals to get revenge on neighbors, and told me if she killed my father-in-law, nobody would ever know. I knew...and I'm not nobody. The daily battle with her went on for three years until I left town with my kids with no forwarding address intending to never return. My father-in-law was a very kind-hearted man who lived with us for a time. They were separated, and we came back to Huntington when we learned he was ill for Mike to build a relationship with him, and for me to find a doctor to treat me who had known me before I started experiencing personality changes. I also thought perhaps my memory might function better if I were in a place and around people I was familiar with. We moved back here, intending to stay only until my father-in-law passed. The battle with my mother-in-law of manipulation, control, and overstepping boundaries started again. I told her if she keeps it up, I am going to take the kids, leave again, and never return. She knows I mean it and backs off, so that is the card I play every time it gets out of hand. I recently learned that my nephew who she is raising (yes, she went for custody of other children too, and caused another woman to lose custody of her children in an attempt to get them for herself) molested my son. I feel sick inside...very sick inside...anger and nausea. Now that my mother-in-law has custody of my nephew, she is more obsessed with him than she is with my children. I see it as a blessing, but pray for him daily. And she did try to kill my father-in-law by not giving him food or water when he was too ill to take care of himself. Why he trusted her to take care of him, I'll never understand. A family friend and I ended up taking care of him until his natural end came after I heard her tell the hospice worker she wasn't feeding him because he couldn't swallow and I knew he could. Mike's uncles gained a new respect for me...enough to mention to me that they no-longer believe the lies that Mike's mom told them about me. It is the start of new relationships, but I still feel a lot of anxiety around them all. I go to the family reunions so they can see the kids, but don't see them other than that and at funerals. I see Mike's mom weekly as she visits he kids under my supervision, and I don't answer phone calls from her except on that day. It's all I can handle and still be able to keep focused with the things God has called me to. And now that I've learned of the repeated molestation, I'm not sure how to handle it. I know cutting off her Friday visits with the kids will start another war. Also, doing anything other than pretending that my nephew is an absolute saint will start a war. He is so out of control...and this is her typical response: He tripped my daughter causing her to tear her tights and there was blood running down her leg. My daughter says, "Warren tripped me and I'm hurt and bleeding." My mother-in-law says," he did NOT trip you, I saw the whole thing, you are not hurt, and there is no blood." While we are all sitting there looking at the blood, we are supposed to pretend it's not there and believe what she says because she said it. It's totally insane. I was afraid to take my daughter to the bathroom to clean her leg. I caught Warren once holding a knife to Philip's throat when he was about 3 years old. He also nearly drowned him in the bathtub by holding his head underwater. He pinches my other daughter under the water at the swimming pool. And I listen to my mother-in-laws stories every week about how Warren is such a passive child, will avoid confrontation at costs, everybody picks on him for no reason, etc. etc. etc. I just want to throw up. Warren is 11 now, and approaching puberty. Everything in me says to cut off all ties before things get worse. I want to leave the area because she stalks us periodically...showing up everywhere we go saying she can see her grand kids in public anytime she wants. I fear both the war that will start if I cut off contact, and what may happen to my children once Warren's testosterone levels increase during puberty. I don't want them to know where we live. I don't want to have to deal with this on a daily basis. The truth is that we do not have the money to move, nor do we want to leave Mike's job or our church. My threat to leave town with the kids is an empty threat.

B. I sensed that when I worked at 20th Street Bank, that they were wanting to fire me, but didn't have legal grounds. The reason I believe now looking back at the people they chose to do this to, is that they felt their jobs were threatened by anyone who would come to work that had more than half a brain. Anyhow, it was a battle of sorts. They were trying to trip me up to have reason to fire me...putting me in positions without adequate training so I'd make a mistake and they could fire me. When that didn't work, they would undermine my work by misfiling checks I had already filed. I stayed one step ahead of them (oh how I wish my brain worked like that again), and also helped train other people off the clock that I saw them trying to do the same thing to. They also tried making me so miserable, I'd quit. They would stand watch and time me in the bathroom...lol...and dock it from my scheduled break time. When I lost that job, I was both relieved the battle was over, and proud that I didn't quit. I had legal grounds to sue, and one of the accountants told me he'd help me get a lawyer, but I was just so relieved at the thought of not having to look at them another day, that I just moved on...proud of myself for not quitting. The way the firing went down was they called me at home and told me that a "stop payment" had been ordered on a large check that went through. That was my job responsibility at the time. They told me to stay home for three days as a disciplinary action until they learned whether or not the bank was going to have to eat the cost, and whether or not I would be fired over it. When I returned to work to find out whether or not I had a job, I was fired for failure to show up for work without notifying them. I figured the stop payment issue was sabotage, and prayed that God would work it out. But I didn't see the absentee thing coming. I also learned later that there was no check that mistakenly went through. That battle went on for a little over a year. I went on to nursing school and don't think about it much. But it did a lot to my ability to trust people.

5. RAPE, SEXUAL MOLESTATION, BEING ASSULTED WITH A WEAPON, ROBBERY
A. Rape: I was stalked and raped in college. I didn't know I was stalked until during the rape when I asked him why me...and he said that I had hugged him at church. He had been following me for weeks waiting for an opportunity. I remember sensing I was being followed that night. I worked at MU helping a handicapped student with personal care. It was Christmas break and the building was locked. I tried to get inside the building by banging on the windows trying to get someone's attention. He pulled me down from the window sill...and I don't remember the rest. My only other memories are that afterwards, he came into the grocery store where I worked and came through the line at my register. I told my boss he was harrassing me and he was banned from the grocery store. He called my mother's house and left a phone number with her for me to call him. I took the phone number to the RA who knew what had happend and said he'd take care of it. He was able to locate him from the number. The RA told me that the rapist was married and had children...and raped me because he was on holiday break and was bored. I can't even remember if he was black or white. I put it behind me. I won't say it wasn't traumatic, but it's behind me. I don't hug males at church anymore unless it is someone I know and trust. During the part of the service where everyone is supposed to greet people they don't know, I feel scared and try to keep to myself. When people approach me to greet me or introduce themselves, I try to be polite and inwardly have an anxiety attack. I think it's rediculous to force people to greet strangers in one minute or less. I prefer to get to know people through classes where we can interact and get to know each other over a period of time so trust can develop. And I want to say this too... recently there was a man in my cell group that I did trust. I'd known him for many years...but we weren't close. He was telling me something that God had told him while he was praying that he thought was for me. I don't remember what the thing was, but he held my hands while he was telling me and looked straight into my eyes. It made me VERY uncomfortable and I told him so. I said, "Do you have to hold my hands while you tell me because it makes me VERY uncomfortable", and he told me yes and didn't let go of my hands. I got so sick I went outside and vomited. I couldn't go back to cell group for several months due to anxiety attacks. Later I played the whole thing down telling him that I was uncomfortable because my back hurt. I feel like I can go to groups on my own now, but for many months I felt that I had to have my friend Steve with me to feel safe. Steve went off to pray with someone else and I was alone. Another man (Pastor Keith) asked me how I managed to get off mom duty to get out of the house to come to cell group. I told him not to say anything but the reason I got out was because it was my birthday and my husband said I could do anything I wanted, and I wanted to go to cell group. The reason I didn't want him to say anything was because we were at a person's house to pray over it as the son was going to be coming home from prison...not there to celebrate my birthday. He announced across the room for everyone to hear, that it was my birthday. That hurt me deeply. He thought it was funny, but I don't trust him anymore...and he was someone I previously trusted. I distrust him as much as someone who raped me. My kids had wanted him to baptize them because they were scared and thought he would allow them to call the shots...like how private/public, whether or not they could wear goggles, etc. I don't want him anywhere near my kids and told them we will find someone else to baptize them. A bit over-reactive I suppose. But the trust is broken...a trust I valued. I'd tell him how I feel if I thought it mattered to him. He doesn't have time to listen or care.

B. Sexual molestation: This one hits closer to home and is not totally behind me. It has caused me to be very protective of my children. (but still not protective enough to keep my son from being molested). When I was very young...5 or 6 years old maybe. I was at K-Mart with my parents. They were looking at the cameras in the glass case...like the jewelry cases they have now. I was leaning with my back to the case. A stranger came up beside me and I started feeling the sensation of his hand in my pants and between my legs. I went into shock. I was terrified. I tried to walk between my parents and so he couldn't touch me again. He was following us. My parents scolded me for being too close to them. I felt totally abandoned by them. I wasn't able to articulate to them what was happening. I never did.

It happened again when I was about 10. This time I was at a drive in movie with my brother, 2 sisters, and 5 cousins. We were all piled into the front of the van so we could all see the movie. I was on my older cousin David's lap. It was a hot summer night and I was wearing shorts. I started feeling the sensation of his finger penetrating me. Again, I went into shock. I froze..was paralyzed. The thought that went through my head was that I had to be imagining it. He would never do that...it wasn't happening. Nothing was ever said. Nothing was ever done about it. I just never went anywhere with my cousin again. My grandfather has passed on and I have no reason to ever see him again. He didn't even come to my mother's funeral. I was relieved. This event was traumatic enough that it just erased the next memory I was going to write about. Ugh.

C. Being assulted with a weapon: I was married to Mike and living at his mother's house for a short time until we could find an apartment that would take our chows. Mike's brother Matt also lived there. I had just come in to get some water for the dogs and left the door open so I could carry the water back out without having to put it down to re-open the door. Mike's brother yelled to me to shut the door. I told him I'd get it in just a minute, as I was watering the dogs. The next thing I knew when I turned around from the kitchen sink, he had the barrell of his rifle touching my forhead. He said in a very strained almost demonic voice, " I-said-shut-the-door!" I don't have any memory after that, but I'm alive so he obviously didn't shoot me. Irene (I've already described her to you) said that never could have happened because Matt doesn't even own a gun...lol. I asked her to explain the bullet hole in his ceiling then...that was before I learned that it's better to just go along with her. I'm supposed to believe he's not on drugs either, even though he's growing pot in his bedroom. I told Irene I didn't think it was oregano. Live and learn. I try to stay away from there as much as possible, and have tried to keep my kids away from there. They are sick and twisted people and I don't want bad stuff to happen to my kids. I'm very stressed right now because Mike as made plans to go there Christmas Eve. I'm sick over it. He says it will be fine because Steve is going with us. Steve says he can run interferrance. Mike says nothing bad will happen with Steve there. I get so stressed out, I've actually considered suicide to keep from having to go...a stupid non-productive thought, I know...but yet, it occured to me. My more productive thoughts were to pray for peace and protection. Also, I've prayed that Mike would get called to work out of town so we could all go, and not have to see any family for the holidays. I can't watch everybody every minute while we are there. And sometimes even when I see what's happening, I feel powerless to do anything about it. It's during these types of visits that Philip has been getting molested. I never know what to expect from Matt...his behavior is very odd and unpredictable. I have every reason to believe he is on drugs, but it might be more than that. A neighbor who knew him growing up told me he used to kill her dogs during satanic rituals. They just creep me out and I don't want me or my kids to be around them. I was in group therapy with a girl who was involved in satanic rituals. Just listening to her stories were traumatizing as she was trying to figure out if she should tell the parents of a missing child that she knows what happened to their child, or if it would be better for them to never know. I've learned that satanic cults are very active in this area and I just don't want my kids around it. When Matt comes around my house (he came to steal our truck once), I just stay inside, lock the doors, and call my husband.

D. Robbery: Our house in Huntington was robbed while we were living in SC, and guess where I keep finding things that were once mine? You guessed it...at my mother-in-law's. I have chosen to ignore it. I don't care about the stuff...but I do care that she has such little respect for us. It makes me very angry, so I try not to think of it for too long...just toss those thoughts right out as soon as they come in. I think I did ask her once why she had my grandmother's jewely, and she told me that it's for Ashley when she gets older...she deserves it, she said, and she is going to make sure she gets it because she knows I won't. She stole the twin beds that go with our bedroom suit...that is aggrivating because I need them. She said she was going to lend them to her niece who needed them temporarily, and when I asked for them back, she told me I must have dreamt it...ugh. Her neice has no knowledge of it either. Back to the house robbery, my renter told me the house was robbed. My father has insurance on the house, but I didn't want to get him involved. I don't think it covers contents anyway...but it does cover renters. We just wrote it off in our heads, but then I started finding things that were supposedly stolen at my mother-in-law's house...my grandmother's antique rocking chair, her crystal, china, and jewelry. My mother-in-law says that during one of the floods, the renters (who were friends of ours) put everything outside and neighbors were just walking up and stealing it all. If I think about her too long I get discusted, confused, and feel sick. She said she was just keeping the neighbors from stealing it by taking it herself to keep it from getting stolen. She's convinced herself that it is hers legally because they called some govt. dept. who told them that everything had to be thown out that was contaminated by sewage in the flood waters. So, since it had to be thrown out, and since she wanted it, it's hers now. Whatever. She's a thief in my eyes...and a liar. Everything she says is a lie...that's why I get so confused around her. It drives me nuts. Mike was the same way when I met him...but God is good. He changes people who want to be changed. I do think there is hope for my mother-in-law. But I'd like to pray for her at a safe distance and let God do the work, not me.

Another robbery. There was someone in my parent's house once. I had been asleep on the couch, and could hear someone walking around upstairs. I went next door and called 911. The police came and found where someone had ransacked my parents' closet. They searched the house to make sure it was safe for me to re-enter and didn't find anyone. Wow, I have no memory of my parents blaming me...lol. That's a first. I can't remember them being there before or after. But I do remember that they kept their valuables in a drawer that wasn't touched. As far as they could tell, nothing was taken.

Another robbery. I was asleep in my bed in an apartment where I lived alone. I awoke to hear someone in the bathroom. I pretended I was asleep. He took my gold chain, some worthless jewelry, and a wothless oil painting I had brought back from Haiti. He never bothered me, and I was so relieved when the person left. I never got a good look, but had known my door was locked so I suspected it was someone connected with the landlord who had a key. I moved out after that.

A friend took me for $11,000. The only trauma about that is that my husband told me to let it go and not persue legal action. I had a contract that would have held up in court. I had no reason not to trust her. I had co-signed a loan for her for $6,000 to make her van handicap accessable, and had to make some of the paymnets myself when she ran into some financial trouble. She paid it back as she was able...so I trusted her to do the same. This time I leant her $13,000 to move to Maine. The contract stated that if she was unable to pay, that the property would become mine, or be sold to pay back what she owed me. Well, she paid back $2,000, then sold the property and moved with no forwarding address. The reason it is traumatic is because I feel like such a fool. I realized as I was helping her pack to leave that she was not taking responsibility for her house here. She was going to just abandon it and her mortgage. Something in my core told me that if this is who she had become, then I was next, but the paperwork was signed, the money had already been transferred, and I dismissed my gut feeling because I chose to trust that my friend would not do that to me. It also has caused problems in my marriage. Mike keeps telling me that I never should have lent her the money in the first place, that is why he's not permitting me to get it back...to learn a lesson about not listening to him. I will obey my husband, but I'm so frustrated. It was money I had earned and saved before we were married. I felt it was mine to do with as I felt God was leading me. Mike doesn't let me forget how wrong I was. I will always feel like I owe him $11,000 that I can't pay back. If I could get it back, I wouldn't feel like it's hanging over my head. It's been three years now. I'm sure my ex-friend doesn't still have it to get it back. I feel stressed because I can't make it right.

Now that I can't work, I feel stressed over every cent that is spent on my medical bills, my supplements, and even the homeschool curriculum (because other mom's can organize their own free curriculum from the library and the internet...and I'm just not able to organize well anymore). I absolutely hate feeling that I am a financial burden on my family. I hate myself for it and it's a major reason I struggle with suicide. I tell myself that if I were to killl myself, the insurance wouldn't pay for the funeral and I'd just be putting more of a financial burden on them, so it wouldn't solve the problem...lol. It works to deter that line of thinking. My main reason for not killing myself is that I believe God is in control and has a purpose for me being here or I wouldn't still be here. It's up to him when my time is. But sometimes I do things like not go to the doctor, or quit taking my supplements because I just can't cope with the guilt of spending Mike's money on me. I want/need a job...but lately all my applications have been turned down. That's not ever happened before. I must not be interviewing well because I know people are desperate for holiday help. It must be very appearant to others now that I'm mentally ill. I've not worked since Olivia was born...that's been two years. One girl from church even told me that she's always wondered how I can afford a new van when I don't work. It hurts. The van isn't new, and God has blessed us through my brother who gave us his vehicle for a trade in. Also, up until this year it was a full time job homeschooling the kids, keeping up with the baby, and the house....and I worked midnight shifts on top of it when I was pregnant...perhaps that is how my adrenals shut down in the first place. The Bible says if you don't work, you shouldn't eat. That thought runs through my head constantly. I feel that I don't deserve medical care, medication, supplements, or food because I don't work...and because I threw $11,000 to the wind.

Now, I'm at a loss as to what to do with myself. I tried working at the school, but I couldn't do the job becasue of the chemical exposures. My adrenals crashed again and my doctor said to expect it to take from 6 months to two years for them to recover. I'm taking cortizone to be able to function. I don't want to give myself unnesesary stress or chemical exposures. This is supposed to be a time of rest to give them a chance to heal. Just doing the grocery shopping causes me to become very dizzy and confused. For six months, I wasn't even allowed to exercise, but now I'm allowed to walk, and love doing it. I put the baby in a backcarrier and take her with me. But feeling guilty every day just for existing isn't rest. I need a paying job to make the guilt go away.

And the school lied to me...said it had been approved that they'd pay me $10 a day. Week three rolled around with no paycheck, so I asked and was told it hadn't been approved. I became angry because of their lie, I was in debt $90 to my babysitter. I had only made our financial situation worse by working. Plus I had to buy clothes as they required I follow their dress code. I did it for a few more weeks knowing I wasn't going to be paid until I just couldn't physically do it anymore, and quit. I face them everyday I drop the kids off and pick them up. Mike told me not to say anything because whatever waves I cause will affect the kids. He told me to deal with it and forgive them. Lynette reminds me of my mother-in-law. She walked all over me and verbally abuses the kids while I would stand by feeling powerless and watch. I'm glad to not be there anymore, but feel I should do something, say something so that she will not keep thinking it's ok. Maybe I never understood what my position was there. I was surprised to not be invited to the teacher meetings. How was I supposed to tutor the kids when I didn't know the teachers and what they were expecting of the kids? All the other kids I ever tutored, I met with their instructors and parents. We put together a plan with everyone's input. At the school, the kids were telling me that they didn't need my help, didn't have any assignments to work on, etc. What am I supposed to do? I don't have diagnostic tests. I thought they'd tell me what needs done. Also, I had between 16 and 23 kids at one time. How could I possibly tutor any of them. My time was spent doing crowd control...which I think I would have been more effective at if Lynette hadn't kept undermining me in front of the kids. It was rediculous. I wanted it to work, but didn't see how it possibly could. I told Larry I needed someone to go to with problems. Lynnette was that person, but she was also the problem. I learned from my first conversation with her that she wasn't interested in anything I had to say. Anyhow, it's over. I need to look for a new job. One I'm capable of doing, and one that pays something, even if it is very little.

Well, that's all I have to say about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.