I have been feeling like such a looser lately.  My usual positive self has been taken over by a whiny, lazy woman.  I think my problem revolves around being tired.  I haven’t been sleeping well the last couple weeks and think this is at the heart of it all.  I am just so tired, sometimes it takes me awhile to find motivation to do something.  If it weren’t for discipline, my family would be eating off of dirty plates and wearing dirty clothes.  I feel bad for my poor hubby because my sense of humor has dissapated, and I haven’t been the most sweet wife.  I haven’t been mean, just not the lovey dovey that Kevin likes.  These damn hormones and lack of sleep have me in a funk.  I keep reminding myself and him it’s only a phase.  I keep promising usual self will return.  Aside from my hospital visits and myriad of doctor appoinments, this has just been a rough pregnancy on me.  I am just about 2/3 of the way there.  I have been told it would be a good idea to start taking some drugs before I have the baby so I don’t have such bad postpartum depression as I did last time.  Maybe some St John’s Wort will help?

I am another statistic of sexual abuse.  I have over time become OK with that.  There was a time when hardly any of my friends knew, I was ashamed.  It was in my family and I felt if I said anything, I would shame my family.  When I was pregnant with Chandlur and my parents pretty much shunned me, I realized, it didn’t matter.  See, I was molested by my older brother who is about 3 years older than I.  I just feel sorry for him because I can see he lives in his own prison, a tortured soul I call him.  I really blame my folks.  They put all their time and attention into making sure he was taken care of and his life was as normal as possible.  I wasn’t the only victim, and thankfully one of them was braver than I.  She told her parents.  When it all came out, the already shaking bottom, fell.  I went into a free fall for about 10 years after that.  It was a horrible time for me.  I had no support and no one to talk to.  It was like my parents forgot I was there unless they needed me to watch my younger siblings so they could help him.  Without going into tons of loooong details, I became lonely, depressed, tried to kill myself, and generally hated life.  Even when my folks were told about all of this, they did nothing.  I somehow picked myself up and made a good life for myself.  It wasn’t until after I had Vahn 3 1/2 years ago that I sought help.  I was suffering from really bad postpartum depression and my doctor told my hubby, if I didn’t make the call that day, he was to drive me to the therapist’s office.  It all was a blessing in disguise.  Sometimes, it is a struggle because I do see my family a couple times a month.  However, I now feel whole.

For this reason, abuse is near and dear to my heart.  I recently came across this site, Teddy Tour.  I even wrote a message from my teddy to the world (I told my hubby and he even left me an awesome message.  Gosh, I’m lucky!).  If you are a survivor (please, don’t call yourself a victim), please, create your own teddy!  The more your story is told, the less of a hold it has on you.  Go tell your message!