Tonight, a very lengthy post I made on a Facebook last year appeared in my “Memories” feed. Rather than share it directly on the social media platform with an equally lengthy updated sentiment, I felt it would make a grand blog post.
In case you think I'm a lost cause and will never overcome my inferiority complex….I'm still here, I'm still paying attention, and I'm still moving forward.
I say this, because I just returned into my room after another screaming match with the narcissist who lives in my house. The details aren't as relevant as the epiphany that arose immediately following. So please forgive my sappiness, but I'm a believer in letting people know how I feel. Who knows if an airplane will fall on my head tomorrow, and you'll forever wonder if you ever got through to me? (Such a thing isn't entirely beyond the realm of possibility, when it comes to my luck.)
I'm so easily discouraged and have been conditioned to believe I'm incapable of anything good or productive. My feelings of worthlessness and inferiority are, I believe, both nature and nurture, as my brother has similar issues we've been able to partly trace back to certain aspects of our upbringing. But just as my father gets inside my head, so do all of you. I noticed this change recently.
I will always struggle with hearing him inside my mind, spewing negativity and causing so much self-doubt and fear. But in cases like what happened tonight (regarding my baking gig), other voices are starting to chime in and drown his out.
I hear Melissa repeating compliments from Jay and Ms. Beth. I hear Susie saying, "We learned today that not everyone can do it." I hear Laura talking about that first chocolate chip walnut cookie and her eagerness in trying to replicate a nut-free version. I hear Claire offering her assistance and encouragement. I hear the voices of Advance Rehab staff talking about the cake, initially believing it came from a store. I hear Angie telling me to hush, the way she does when I talk down about myself. I hear Tiffany talking about buying more cookies. And just as I usually feel hurt and broken when Kenny's voice dominates my mind, I start feeling grateful and loved, hearing everyone else.
And suddenly, Kenny's negativity gets quieter, and the voices of multiple people offering praise and encouragement get louder. That's definitely a recent change.
The fact I'm still doing this is proof I listen to you all. Lisa of the Past would have quit a long time ago, because she was tired of the constant resistance and criticism from Kenny. She would have been worn down by him, as has always been the case, and just given into his demands of quitting. But Lisa of the Present isn't backing down, much to his dismay. Instead, I still struggle with self-confidence, but I'm also continuing to put myself out there anyway.
My psychiatrist is retiring, after a full decade of working with me. She has expressed how immensely proud she is of how far I've come, but I suppose most of you don't know that version of me she was using as a comparison.
Ten years ago, when I first sat in her office, I wouldn't make eye contact with anyone. I barely spoke above a whisper and ONLY when asked a question. I didn't dare speak otherwise. I loathed everything about myself. I wanted to die. Every waking moment was spent thinking of ways to kill myself, while simultaneously fighting the urge to act on it. After my mom died, things got worse. My father became evil, frequently expressing his wishes I had died instead of my mom. With him serving as my main influence, I believed I was the worthless turd he said I was, and it became harder to fight the desire to die. Over the years, I've had many crisis appointments, a few 72 hour holds, and have just been a mess. But Dr. D watched me fight the voices, the hallucinations, the depression, and the suicidal ideation. She's watched me struggle to fight for a future, when my mind told me to die. And she's watched me gradually take baby steps towards a productive life. At our last Zoom visit, she cried. She actually cried, recollecting those moments and how she wasn't initially sure she could help me. She truly thought, at least at one point, I would be one of the patients she ended up losing to suicide. I won't lie and pretend there weren't several close calls. She wiped tears away as she told me how proud she was to see me come so far in life. At first, it seemed strange; I'm hardly a "normal", fully functioning member of society. But then I thought about the last decade, and by comparison, I'm an entirely new person. Certainly, the person she listened to excitedly talk about market sales was not anything like the individual she met ten years prior. That original Lisa would never have considered standing in a public venue, selling her wares. It was just unfathomable. That original Lisa needed the protection of her brother to be in public at all, because the risk of an outburst or meltdown was too great. I wasn't allowed in public by myself, nor was I allowed to be home alone for more than a day, either. I was too unstable. But here I am, all these years later, talking to strangers, selling them something I made. I'm taking all of those vulnerabilities and pushing them aside. Dr. D said even though I don't do it with great confidence, I do it with great bravery…because to be that self-conscious and intimidated by the world, but still go out and do what I do, is probably the bravest thing I've done since she's known me.
My point: those accomplishments and all that progress aren't just due to the constant care of a psychiatric team and medication. Those things can take you only so far.
I can think of two huge sources of my "success" in moving away from my past and even wanting a future for myself…because for a very long time, I was trapped in limbo, with no direction or motivation.
The first is the constant, consistent support of Laura and Susan. They never wavered in their love for me, or in their encouragement. They always saw me as something more than my mental health diagnoses, and they always looked past my irrational outbursts and struggles and simply loved me through it. If I didn't have them with me all these years, there's no way I'd have found the motivation to even stay in this world. They have, quite literally, kept me alive. It's not something I talk about often, but I can't express just how true that is. When all I wanted to do was die and felt I had no one, they reminded me I was wrong and gave me the motivation to live, even just for one more day. No matter how bad things got, I knew they loved me. And honestly, sometimes they were the only ones on the planet who cared if I lived or died. Even my own family turned away from me, when I was at my worst. But having them never do that, and always being there when I needed them, has been EVERYTHING. I owe my life to them, and that's no exaggeration. How do you thank someone who kept you from putting a permanent end to your life?
The second….well, if I could pinpoint one event from the last decade that really made things start to change for the better, instead of just holding on indefinitely, it was when Melissa entered my life. We certainly didn't meet on the best of circumstances; it was a lost credit card and my father's rage that planted that seed. I still remember walking into the clinic in tears, having been subjected to my father's relentless screaming and him calling me every name in the book. She was so nice, so warm…and truly saved my ass that day. She seemed to take me under her wing after that. She was the voice of reason when I needed it, and the smack upside the head when I needed that, too. She was never going to just tell me what she thought I wanted to hear; she told me what I NEEDED to hear…but in a gentle way I certainly wasn't accustomed to.
With the constant support of Laura and Susie, and the budding friendship with Melissa, things simply got better. I finally had a good support system in place and started to rethink all the things I was led to believe about being unlovable. Claire and Angie would come later, immediately followed by TJ. Kristal entered a couple years later.
And now, I can't possibly fail. With that many people in my corner…that many AMAZING people…I can't fail.
I will never be able to fully get Kenny's negativity out of my head. As Dr. D and I discussed, you can't undo a lifetime of damage in just a few years. You will always see me, in certain situations, revert back to that scared little kid…especially when I'm in the presence of my friends' husbands. Any male figure in a position of authority terrifies me, even though some of them are the nicest people I've ever met. But I will always be afraid of them, and I will never speak to them--not even a "hello"--until they initiate it. These things will likely never go away, and I'll spend a lifetime apologizing for them, hoping my friends understand. Some do…I'm not sure about the others.
But I'm certainly on the right path. I'm doing things no one ever thought I'd be able to do in life. I'm facing my demons. I'm meeting new people. I'm being--gulp--personable to strangers, instead of hiding from them or screaming at them. My own rages are under control. I still don't laugh a lot, not like I used to before things "went down", but I do smile a lot more. Maybe not as much as I should, but it's definitely more than I did years ago.
So…thank you for that. Thank you for staying with me and loving me, even when I was incredibly unlovable. Thank you for teaching me. Thank you for encouraging me. Thank you for sending your assistant to take me to the doctor. Thank you for actually taking me to the doctor. Thank you for taking the time to break through the stubborn barrier. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for believing in me. And thank you for spending an obscene amount of time reading this sappy post.
Now, if that plane falls on my head, at least I'll know that I said what I needed to say.
Tonight, my father tried once again to break me….but he failed, only because I have an incredible support system I likely don't deserve, but I embrace nonetheless.
That brings us to today, exactly one year later in 2022.
One of the hardest things I had to hear was my psychiatrist that day, telling me when she first met me, she didn’t think she could save me. I’d be a statistic to suicide, a tragic footnote in her career. It was a hard fact to accept, that such a seasoned professional initially felt I was too far gone. We both cried during that final appointment, and I thanked her for saving me.
“I didn’t save you,” she told me. “You did all the work. It’s like a wounded bird; I can use the tools I have to help, but in the end, you’re the one that has to fight to heal, then find the courage to take that leap to spread your wings and fly.”
I loved that analogy. So instead, I changed my statement:
“Thank you for taking a chance on me, even though you didn’t think I could be saved, and thank you for never giving up on me.”
We sobbed. Knowing she put so much time and effort into me, when she didn’t think it mattered, meant the world to me. It turns out it meant more to her, one of her biggest turnaround success stories to end a career spanning decades. She was able to close a chapter of her life, knowing she saved a life from the brink.
It’s amazing how much has happened in the last year. I have so many more people contributing positive things to my life, and I sometimes pause to wonder how I became so blessed. I was mulling over this very thing a few days ago when, almost on cue, Beth posted this image to my Facebook page.
“I’m going to have to overthink this one for a bit,” I replied. Maybe she thought I was dismissing her. In truth, I was indeed overthinking it, weaving it into the questions I was already asking myself regarding how I came to deserve such wonderful people in my life.
Could this be correct? Does God perhaps believe I’ve finally earned my right to have more positive, supportive people in my life than negative? Do my efforts in withstanding—persevering, even—through so many struggles somehow warrant this change? I’ve long said God put Laura and Susie in my life as means of apologizing for being born into the Lacheny family. So it’s not completely beyond my theory that He’s continuing to secure incredible friendships for me, to help make up for my current living arrangements and familial circumstances.
Of course I don’t know if that’s really the reason. But whether the theory is true or not, I know I don’t take any of these individuals for granted.
Just yesterday, I was speaking of those “collective voices” that help drown out my father’s negativity, to one of those amazing people I get to call a friend. And today, this tribute to gratitude over the same thing appeared in my Facebook memories.
Each person in my life contributes something special and unique, fulfilling a need in my life. As individuals, you’re patching various holes in my life and heart only you have the ability to do. As a group, you’re helping me build the confidence to be the person I was meant to be, rather than the one Kenny insists I am.
I do listen, so please don’t ever give up on me. I’m not oblivious to the fact I can be immensely unlovable at times, but I adore all of you who insist on loving me anyway.
Categories: Uncategorized
Leave a Reply