The Purple Monster Returns

The Purple Monster returned with a vengeance last night. What the heck am I talking about? No, it's not the Purple People Eater from that Neil Patrick Harris movie, nor am I hallucinating. It's a long story, not sure where to begin.

It took me well into my adult years to realize that even when I was younger I was having anxiety attacks, even though the younger I was the less severe or dramatic they were. A little upset stomach and wanting mommy when I was in situations I didn't want to be in. When I was nauseous I would get panicky. I had a routine, once I figured out what worked at that time, and would have to follow it every time I got nauseous: Make myself as cold as possible and suck on peppermint. That doesn't work today, but back then it did, and it kept me from panicking, although at that time I didn't realize that was what it was.

It took me till about seven years ago to realize I was having panic/anxiety attacks. It got so bad one night I had to go to the ER because I couldn't settle down after a bout with a stomach ache. It was then I was put on a pill schedule. At first it was Xanax once a day, then it got to just whenever I felt an attack coming on, and Phenegren to help the nausea. After I lost my job, I lost my insurance and my pills.
But lets go back a little further.

Right out of high school, I was dating this guy that I was in love with. He was everything to me, back then, some 17 years ago. We had a lot of ups and downs; him cheating on me, us breaking up and getting back together, my parents hating him, etc.

I honestly don't remember what we were talking/fighting about, but one night we were in the Wal-Mart parking lot in his car after I got off work. It was late, as I usually worked a afternoon closing shift. For whatever reason he was upset, and he did something I had never seen before. He hurt himself. I honestly can't remember what with, but he took (said item) and ran it left to right across his inner arm. Not with the intentions of suicide (slitting wrists), just to inflict pain.

After that night, I became a "cutter". I don't remember the first time I did it, nor how often at first I did do it. I do remember what I used tho; a key. I would never use a knife, that caused too much damage. A freshly cut key was great, it hurt just enough to make me bleed but not too bad. And it was convenient, as I always had keys with me.

I remember locking myself in the break room bathroom at work and doing it. I remember doing it when this guy I was seeing decided to go back to his wife (then I had to show her what I had done to myself so she would believe he was trying to help me).

Each time I "cut", I had this feeling wash over me. I would be upset or hurting SO bad that I had to get it out of my body somehow. It would consume me, take over me, until I just had to get it out by causing the pain on my arm. It was a release, a wash of relief overtaking the anxiety.

I got to the point where cutting wasn't always enough, or I got tired of people asking questions about my arm, and I would start banging my head on the wall. I even used a book one night because I didn't want to wake the duplex neighbors by hitting a wall with my forehead. (My bff's little girl, who's 1 1/2 hits her head on the wall or floor when she gets upset and it has me worried).

One night I was battling the emotions and losing, and for some reason I gave it a name. It popped up out of nowhere, and it somehow was exactly what I needed to use to describe it, although it makes no sense. The Purple Monster. I don't see purple lights when it happens, but it is a monster; a beast inside me attacking me, wanting out. When The Purple Monster hits, I panic. I get shaky, start pacing, hyperventilating, and then I have to let him out. Once he's out, I am able to settle down for a while.

I was able to stop for many years, though.the visible scars remained on my arm. I began again when I had issues with my mom being sick and dying and of course man issues. I was engaged and married a guy who was verbally and physically abusive. I was cutting when I met him and instead of trying to help me, he made it worse by telling me he'd leave me if I didn't stop.

That is one thing you do not tell a cutter. They are already upset, you do not want to make them worse. Support them, try and make them feel better! Never threaten them or make them feel ashamed for what they do, it will make them want to do it more out of the pain and shame.

I settled down again for a while, and did really good for a few years, then I would have a small setback and want to do it again. Triggers are always out there for a cutter: Why don't they hire me? Why doesn't he want to be with me? I'm about to lose my house and car, what am I going to do?

After I started then stopped the Xanax, I was in a fairly good place and hadn't done it in years. I dealt more with anxiety/panic attacks after that. Every time I got nauseous, which was a lot dealing with my new onset of lactose intolerance, I would have a panic attack. I had them quite frequently. At one point my stomach was so bad I couldn't eat at all and lost a bit of weight. Eventually it started getting better, and I was able to give up taking the Xanax and only took the Phenegren on the occasions that I got really sick.

The anxiety began to hit me again when I found out I was pregnant. I never ever felt the need to cut, but the anxiety/panic was there. The Purple Monster had taken a very long vacation.

The doctor put me on Zoloft, hoping it would settle me down and not have panic attacks (this especially after I had three in the hospital during my kidney stone surgery, while pregnant). It seemed to help, although in the back of my mind I still knew that I wasn't ready to be a mommy. When my mom passed away, my thoughts on being a mommy changed. I didn't want to put my child through what I went through, watching my mom die so young from the horrible C. It runs heavily in the family, so my odds are bad. And I knew if I had a hard time taking care of myself, with panic attacks and whatnot, how could I raise a child?

As some of you know, Layna's "sperm donor" left me before I even knew I was pregnant. I found out like a week later. He was enraged, told me to abort. I said no way in hell. He said he wasn't ready to be a dad again and he wasn't going to be one. I told him he didn't have to be.

He disappeared shortly after that and I haven't seen him since.

Needless to say, I went thru most of my pregnancy alone. I had support from friends, but they weren't here. They didn't go to the doctor with me, I saw my ultrasounds alone. So here I am, going to be a first time mom at 34, no clue what I'm doing, and going it alone. Talk about nervous!

Long pregnancy story short, my ex, whom I was with for 5 years, came back in the picture. He was there when Layna was born and has been ever since. His family have accepted her as their own, and we couldn't ask for a better deal. When she was going to be without a grandma and aunts and uncles (I'm an only child), now she has a huge family!

Spending those three months off work with Layna were the best times for me. I loved watching her smile, sleep, smile and frown in her sleep. I loved watching her grow. I loved spending every moment with her.
I was still taking my meds tho. The doc took me off the Zoloft and put me on something different. It worked, just not as good. Then, everything began to change.

Anthony's boss was not paying him, so we had to do something different. When I wad at my wits end looking for a job, I got a call to do a temp job in an office. I immediately jumped, we needed the money. Anthony would stay home with Layna, and I would work.

It was, and still is, SO much harder than I thought! I miss that little girl SO much all day long. I leave at 7am, get home at 5:45-6pm. I eat, give her a bottle (if he hasn't already) and go to bed. Saturdays are grocery shopping and errand running. Sundays at church she's with Jessica, and after church Anthony's family takes over. I have no time with her at all, and it is getting to me badly.

Not only that, but her routine with Anthony is different. I don't know what he's doing, but she is different. It could also be her 4 month leap, or she could be cutting teeth. For whatever reason, when I get home both her and him are fussy. He's fussy (hateful sometines) because she's been fussy all day.

Working so many hours every week, I ran out of refills for my meds. I took what I had left of the Zoloft I had quit taking, then ran out of it. Not able to go to the doctor because of work, I now have no meds.

Cue The Purple Monster.

We have already been snapping at each other because of his short temper from dealing with her all day, me tired from work and irritated that the only.time I get to spend with Layna she's either fussy or sleeping. Last night was the worst.

She was not too bad when I got home, but the good didn't last long. She fussed, she whined, she screamed. I finally got her to sleep and we both went to lay down. No sooner did we get in bed does she wake up screaming again. I was asleep, had fallen asleep looking at my phone and dropped it that's how tired I was. So when she started crying, I snapped.

I got up with her, and nothing consoled her. I tried a bottle, I tried a frozen teether, a cold paci, bouncing her, swinging her, burping her.....nothing. Although she did like looking at my phone.

I was getting so upset I was yelling at her. I could feel The Purple Monster coming back around. Anthony came in the living room and I told him that I was about to lose it because I didn't have my medication to help me calm my nerves. Instead of being supportive and trying to help me calm down, he YELLS at me! Again, you do not do this to someone with anxiety/panic/cutting issues. This will just set them off.

It did.

After him cussing me out and telling me to get over it and that he was going to leave, he jerked her out of my hands and told me to go to bed. But I couldn't. I sat here in my chair and cried. That's when The Purple Monster took over. I was crying, shaking, pulling out my hair, and everything just disappeared. All I cared about was hurting myself. 

I scratched my arm with my fingernails, thinking that might be good enough. It wasn't. I dug my nails in my arm. It helped a little. I kicked her bouncer seat across the living room. That helped a little too. He came back in with her, and I told him that I can't do this, that if he's going to treat me this way when I have an attack like this then its not going to work. He gets all mad again, and I remind him that I was doing GREAT till I ran out of my meds. He doesn't say anything and takes her back to the bedroom.

I sit here a little longer, crying and shaking badly. The urge to hurt myself hasn't passed, but it has eased up some. He brings her in as she has calmed down some, and hands her to me. He goes outside to smoke, and I stand and rock her. I try to sing to her, but she starts to cry when I do....that's not a good sign, I love to sing! So I stopped. She eventually passes out, so we go to bed, leaving him to play games. 

Once I actually got some sleep, I felt much better. The Purple Monster was gone. But he will be back, at least until I can get my meds back. Some people say prayer, meditation, help from friends keeps you from having to take medication. Well, none of those have worked for me.....although I can't say no about the friends thing, because no one has ever really been around to help me. Anthony just gets mad at me.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, a lot of reasons.

#1 - I want you to know who I am, and what I struggle with. If I seem rude sometimes or hateful or act like I don't want to spend time around you, its probably for this reason. There are days when you just have too much on you and you can't deal with it all. Someone who suffers from anxiety/cutting like I do has it even worse.

#2 - I want you to understand what to do and not to do with someone in this situation. NEVER yell at them, get mad at them, give them ultimatums, etc. Instead, support them, be there for them, let them know you care about them and help them in any way that they need. Tell them how much they are worth and help them to understand that things will get better. And know this - cutters do NOT harm others, and they do NOT want to kill themselves, they just want to release the pain they are feeling inside.

#3- I wanted others to know that if you suffer from this like I do, you are not alone. You are not a freak, you just have an issue that you need help with. Do not feel ashamed if you have to take medication, ask for help from friends, or even for cutting. We know that it is not done for attention, but others think it is, and it does draw attention. Don't let the negative people get you down. Get help.

I hope that you all have learned something from this post, whether it be about me or helps you to understand someone you know that goes through the same thing. Please remember, I myself would NEVER NEVER NEVER hurt my child, for any reason! That does not mean that others might not hurt their own - I had a friend that his child died and the suspicion was that he killed him. I have no doubt in my mind he lost it when the baby was crying non stop and either shook him to death or some other form. 

If you know of anyone in this situation, do NOT judge them, but instead help them. They need support, they need love, they need friends who care. 

Can you be that person to someone who needs you?