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| The mental unit was locked at all times because there were also substance abusers there. One was only 14 and had been given drugs by his mother as far back as his preschool years. We were escorted everywhere we went. They checked on me every 15 minutes the first 24 hours because I was a suicide risk. We had group therapy everyday where we could say anything that was on our mind and not be punished for it. I stayed quiet the first few times. Someone mentioned "forgiving and forgetting", and that's when I started letting the anger out. I grew up in church (we were called Holy Rollers), and I firmly believe in forgiveness. I felt I was a worthless person for being angry at God for getting burned. I felt even lower because hard as I tried, I couldn't forgive my husband for abusing me when I was at my lowest. He would use my Christianity against me by saying "the Bible says you should be submissive" or if I said anything unlady like, "you're a real Christian aren't you?" As far as my husband and his mother felt, I deserved everything he did to me and I should turn the other cheek. I was so confused spiritually and so depressed till a counseler told me something that made sense concerning the forgive and forget issue. If you reach to pet a dog and it bites you (like a friends pet or a dog protecting it's master's property), you don't necessarily hold a grudge against the dog or kill it, but you do remember for your own safety not to try and pet it again. When I heard that, it was like a heavy burden had been taken off my heart. I understood that it's FOOLISH and UNSAFE to forget some offenses, which makes it OK to remember. It was such a relief to let go of that. The counselers on the mental unit also taught me how to deal with problems without using suicide as a solution. They showed me that my problems could be overcome with the right problem solving skills. My life didn't seem hopeless anymore. While in the mental unit, the state took custody of my 3 children. I had called my mother to talk to her about the visit coming up with my kids and my husband. I was so excited and happy about the upcoming visit. She informed me that if my husband was there, she couldn't bring the kids to see me. When I got upset and asked her why, she told me that the state had custody of the kids and had placed them in her care. She said that the kids had talked to someone and revealed that my husband had been letting Kayla and Jimmy drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes and had "touched" my daughter Stephanie. I couldn't comprehend what I was hearing. Sexual abuse? I could see the other happening because my husband was a mean, evil, and warped person, but sexual abuse? My mind was screaming NO! I thought my family hated him so much they were willing to accuse him of anything that would work to split us up. I didn't want to believe it. I refused to believe it. I went deep into denial. I was so angry at what I thought my family was trying to do, I decided I had to get out of the mental unit. I had to go get my kids back. The people in charge didn't want to release me because I hadn't finished the program but I refused to stay. They finally agreed to release me early. |
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