sacolucci23

My parents got married out of wedlock, and they officially split before my first birthday. My mother moved in with my grandparents, and my father went his way.
From what I understand, my dad tried to see me often and even went through the court process to gain custody of me. He lost and ended up only getting visitation rights which allowed him to see me once a week.
His routine consisted of him driving down to the city, where we lived, to pick me up and bring me back to his house in a more rural area. My mother, in an attempt to cancel these visits, often hid me at the neighbors. My father would get the police involved so she would have no other choice but to send me. This charade went on for some time until I was about four, I believe.
Growing up, my father ended up having three other children with his girlfriend (now wife). His eldest is only a year and a half younger than me.
Growing up, my mother would constantly tell me that my father abandoned me, had another woman when he was with her (hence the oldest only being a year and half younger) and that that woman didn't love me. Unfortunately, this was the common theme that got hammered into my head growing up- I wasn't loved by my father or his wife.
Now, because my mother was alone and trying to make a life for herself which only ever rendered failed relationships, I was also told she "sacrificed everything for me." This was also something that was embedded into me and led me to believe I owed something to not only my mother but my grandparents, as they also repeated these mantras regularly.
Going to my dads was sometimes fun because I had siblings but a lot of the times it was painful, lonely and scary. As a child, it was traumatizing to have to leave your home and familiarity to spend time with what felt like "another family." On the nights I had to sleep over, I would cry because I just wanted to go home. Sometimes, my dad would bring me home, but other times I would have to stay. I was often left feeling despondent and homesick.
When I turned sixteen, my mother told me that according to the law I didn't have to go to my dads anymore. I stopped the contact with him.
My father was never abusive to me in any way. The only thing I can accuse him of is his ignorance of my pain and physically abandoning me. It honestly hurts watching someone care for and raise three other children and treat you like the afterthought. One time that comes to my mind was when he picked me up on an Easter weekend. I think I was about ten years old. He stopped at a grocery store, and I waited in the car. When he got back in he had bought a bag of something and I wasn't too sure of the contents. When we arrived at his house, my sisters had three life-size bunnies in their rooms, each one containing chocolate. Well, I got "the bag" which consisted of chocolates he had stopped to get on the way. Such a small thing yet I never forgot that moment. Maybe he didn't know I was coming or he had forgotten? Either way, it shaped my belief system that I just wasn't worth it. That moment hurt me. There were other times like this one as well, but I won't delve into them.
My stepmother wasn't very loving towards me. On various occasions, she would ostracize me for speaking up about certain issues. For example, my father paid child support at the time, and my mother and I were going on vacation. Sarcastically, she had commented on it being "nice to travel on my father's dime." I told my mother about the incident, and she scolded my father about it. The next time I was there, I was trying on a bathing suit they had bought me, and it was too big. My stepmother angrily sneered at me and said, "don' t go tell your mother now." So you see, I was ostracized.
I was also a chubby child, and my sisters weren't. My stepmother was a health nut, but my grandparents and mother weren't. My food wasn't monitored at home. She followed the food intake of all her children and often made me feel like I was too chubby, or I didn't eat right - almost like I was inferior to her kids.
It was excruciatingly painful growing up without a father. I was always reminded by my mother and grandparents how abnormal I was because my parents were divorced. I even got told kids didn't want to hang out with me because my parents had split and this always made me feel like I wasn't normal like I had a defect of some kind.
My mother is a complete narcissist and so is her immediate family member except for my late grandfather. My mom always criticized me and yelled at me. There were times I remember as a child when she "loved me, " but those were few and far between.

She had boyfriends and got remarried after my dad, but the relationships never worked out. They always ended in physical disputes and police calls. Of course, when they didn't work out it was always because of me and because she was sacrificing her life for me.

I witnessed a lot of domestic abuse as a child. My mother got into altercations with almost everyone she dated. Her first husband she beat with a vacuum chord until he bled. I was eight years old when I watched this man bleeding in the bathroom. My mother called my father to get me as it was so bad.
Another boyfriend she punched and hit. In fact, they did it to each other and police were called. Because he was from another country and was not a legal citizen, he got deported. She ended up keeping him in a hotel in another country for months after that!
This went on and on my entire life.
I was often called a "bad kid" because I got into trouble a lot, skipped school, etc. My uncles used to say I was "out of control" and would end up a prostitute. The truth is I was never a bad kid, just looking for attention!
My mother rarely told me she loved me, she never asked about my day. She would sleep a lot when I was a kid and never really do anything with me. She was always too tired. She never helped me with homework or has communicated that she is proud of me in any way. Her communication is always negative and criticizing.
Anyways, I could go on and on - the dysfunction runs deep.
How I got TMS.
When I was 16, I smoked a joint (it was not my first one) and I had a panic attack while I was high. I remember thinking that I was going to go to hell and that I was an evil person. I couldn't breathe and started to hyperventilate. Because I was high, it was very hard to escape this feeling.

The next morning the high and panic were gone, but I kept getting panic attacks. This turned into a panic disorder which I got help for.
I also suffered from terrible migraines as a child and a teenager. I would have to sit in a dark room, eyes closed, cold cloth, etc.
Throughout my twenties, I developed Generalized Anxiety Disorder. More specifically, I had health anxiety. I would constantly think I had MS. I had an uncle who had MS, and the thought of it petrified me. My anxiety stopped me from doing a lot of things my peers were doing. It stopped me from enjoying my twenties.
When I was twenty-four, I moved out on my own as my mother could no longer afford the house we were in. I was terrified to live on my own and developed even more crippling anxiety. I woke up one night to a rocking sensation that took two weeks to dissipate. Then I started having random off-balance feelings, dizzy attacks.
After I met my husband, I seemed to feel good again. I was no longer alone, and we were starting a life together. I had my first child, and all was good. A little stressed but good health wise. Emotionally, I felt resentful because now I was a mother and didn't get to "enjoy my life." I was upset at myself for rushing everything.
But after my second child, things have taken a turn. Constant migraines, vertigo, BPPV - now diagnosed with vestibular migraines. I've been in a fog for six months, and I have no idea who I am anymore.
Three years ago I became self-employed, something I've always wanted to do. After my second child, I worked myself to the bone! Too much time at the computer, always upset, always in a rush. I cut off my mother ( we had a falling out, and I called the police). I had a nanny help me with the baby which I felt extremely guilty about.
I do talk to my father now. In fact, my children are very close to him and his wife. But there still are unresolved issues with him. We have never addressed the "elephant in the room".. and he lives in the delusion that everything is peachy. He can be very insensitive about my life and experiences. In fact, he has no idea what my life has been.

The migraines I have now are about every 3-4 days and in between, I am very off balance and dizzy. I just got over BPPV which has terrified me beyond anything else!

I just want to be me again!