Thank You For Leaving Me For Her

Dear A,

Thank you for leaving me for her. Thank you for setting me free from your abuse and constant mindfuckery. Thank you for making me a stronger woman than I ever dreamed of being. Because of you, I am the warrior queen that I am. Strong, beautiful, sensitive, passionate, and full of love.

Thank you for giving me the gift of motherhood. Because of you, I have the three most incredible sons and granddaughter that a woman could ask for.

Thank you for teaching me. Because of your hatred of me, I have learned how to love deeper than I ever dreamed possible. Because of your constant mindfuckery and coldness, I have learned how to be strong and independent. Because of the way you treated me and our children, you have shown me the kind of person that I NEVER want to be; bitter, hateful, cold, distant, unloving, and cruel.

Because of you constantly telling me that I’m disgusting I have learned that I can lose weight, workout, and have a better body. But external beauty rarely lasts. Because of your constant cruelty, I have a soft heart. A heart that loves and forgives.

Because you left me for her, I have learned just how committed I am to my marriage and family. I would have held on until the pain of holding onto you killed me. Thank you for leaving me for her and setting me free.

Because you literally replaced your wife and children with a new woman and children, I have learned the truth about just how sick and fucked up you really are. It’s only a matter of time that you will do the same to them as you did to me and the boys. If only they knew the kind of monster you really are.

Middle School Was Hell

My mother never cared about what I wore to school. If I liked the clothes I saw when shopping, she bought it. Even if it was too provocative for a teenage girl to wear.

I remember that in middle school I had a reputation as a slut. Even though I was a virgin. I was sexually harassed by the boys and body shamed by the girls. I had a very mature body for my age and I dressed quite provocatively. The boys were paying attention to me and not them. So naturally, they hated me.

I remember being spit on, having my hair pulled, being tripped, and pushed into the lockers just about every day.

Seventh grade. In comes Starr, the nightmare from hell. I remember in choir class Starr’s step-sister gave me a dirty look. So I returned the favor and shot her one right back. After class, just as I walked out the door, Starr shoved me into the brick wall and began punching me over and over in the face and chest. The principal came and broke up the fight. Starr was suspended and was supposed to leave. She didn’t. After school, my friend Kara was walking with me to the bus stop, Behind us was a mob of hundreds of students. And Starr was their leader.

When Kara saw them, she ran for help. Starr threw me into a telephone pole and began punching me repeatedly in the face and chest. Luckily my mother made me carry military tear gas, so I reached into my pocket, grabbed the can and sprayed Starr in the face, and ran. I ran to the only open door which happened to be my sixth-grade homeroom teacher.

However, I didn’t make it without being sprayed in the face with mace. Byt the time I got to Mrs. Cooney’s classroom, the principal was there waiting for me. I was taken to the office and my mother was called. She didn’t want to come to pick me up from school, so she sent the next-door neighbor. As I waited for her to come and get me I could hear dozens of students in the hall shouting, “Kill her! Kill that bitch! I’m gonna kill that fucking bitch! I’m gonna’ kill that fucking slut!”

After that day, the bullying only got worse and worse with each day. The death threats continued. I was constantly being hit, spit on, tripped and shoved into the lockers. It went on for months. I was becoming depressed and afraid to go to school. I was afraid to go to the bus stop alone. So I began cutting class and walking home. I can’t remember how far it was, but it was about a three hour walk.

One day, my mother was supposed to come to the school with me to talk with the principal about the bullying. We got on the bus and sat down. Then Starr and some of the other bullies got on the bus. My mother got off the bus and left me to the den of rabid wolves.

Eventually, Star was expelled. But the bullying never stopped. By the time I reached the eighth grade, I had stopped eating except for maybe a few bites of food each day. I was depressed and cutting daily. Each day I felt so sick and weak, I just couldn’t get up to go to school. Life was unbearable. My mother was becoming increasingly abusive, girls at school wanted me dead and the boys wanted nothing more than to torment me and beg for me to fuck them. I was hopeless that life would get any better. Everyone hated me and I wanted to die. Thoughts of suicide began to flood my mind.

That was when I met A. When I found out that I was pregnant, I was terrified to go to school. I was terrified that if I continued to go to school I would lose my baby. My baby was my only reason to live. I begged my mother to let me homeschool and she agreed. Finishing the eighth grade at home was the best decision we could have made.

Starting Over for the 100th Time

My weight and relationship with food has been a problem for as long as I can remember. As a child, I can remember being normal-sized until around the third grade. That’s when I started gaining weight. By the time I reached the fifth grade, I was wearing a women’s size 14.

I remember the summer before entering the sixth grade. I was so preoccupied with my weight. I told my mother that I wanted to go on a diet. I remember telling her that I was afraid that the boys wouldn’t like me or think I was pretty because I was fat.

My mother didn’t know the first thing about dieting. She never cared for her body, and she never taught me to care for my own. But she did her best to help me in my dilemma. She bought some SlimFast, and that is when I started dieting for the first time. I stuck to the habit of replacing meals or just not eating throughout my middle school years. I remember my mother being concerned about anorexia and took me to the doctor. Standing at five feet, eight inches tall, and weighing only 115 pounds, I was diagnosed as anorexic.

Becoming a teenage mom may have saved my life, but it was also the beginning of a cycle that would remain with me for the rest of my life. During my pregnancy with my first son at the age of 14, I gained 90 pounds. After my baby was born, it took me nine months to lose the weight. Then I got pregnant with my second son and gained another 90 pounds. This time it took me two years to lose the weight. I was eating pretty healthy and working out every day. I was fit and strong. Then at 18, I became pregnant with my third son. This pregnancy was difficult. I stopped working out and eating healthy. We ate at Burger King nearly every day. This caused me to gain a massive 120 pounds during my pregnancy.

This time, losing the weight wasn’t so easy. And my relationship with A was becoming even more toxic and abusive. He was constantly making hurtful comments about my body. I became depressed and started turning to food and candy for comfort. But the more A body shamed me, the more desperate I became to lose weight. So I began dieting with pills and meal replacements again. I would do well for a short time, but when I could no longer afford to pay the outrages prices for the products, all of the weight came piling back, plus some more.

I was doing pretty good for a short while, a couple years ago. But then my life really started to crumble and fall apart. My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer and A wanted a divorce. After my mother died and A left me for another woman, I went numb. I completely gave up on myself. This caused me to gain a ton of weight.

Let me tell you something. I am absolutely fucking DONE living like this! I’m sick and tired of feeling so ashamed and disgusted with myself. It’s time for me to take back my life and my health. I need to be held accountable this time. That is why I have decided to document my body transformation journey. And hopefully, my journey will inspire someone else on theirs.

I have been blessed to meet a lovely woman through Facebook. She is taking me under her wing and coaching me. She’s creating a program for me to follow, and keeping me accountable. She’s pushing me and motivating me to change my relationship with food and my body. From working on my mindset to working on building and awesome ass, she’s become my coach, my friend and my guardian angel.

Sleeping with the enemy


Absolutely NOTHING about the relationship with my ex was normal. It was toxic and abusive from the very beginning.

I was just fourteen-years-old when I fell in love with the boy next door. Looking back, I believe the reason I fell into this relationship is that I was desperately searching for a hero to save me from my miserable, fucked-up life. All of the abuse I had already endured. More abuse at home. And I was being bullied constantly at school. I was depressed and suicidal. I was desperate to be loved. I was desperate to be saved.

If only I had known the hell that awaited me.

In the beginning, all of the signs were there. Red flag after red flag. Yet, somehow I just didn’t see them. In a previous post, I explained how A would compare me to his ex-girlfriend while having sex. I explained a toxic pattern of him breaking up with me, and coming home drunk or high on cocaine begging me to take him back. I always did. I took him back EVERY time.

A had a problem with pornography. He also had a fetish for using toys, banana’s, and cucumbers on me during sex. I hated it, but he just didn’t care. If I didn’t comply, he would get angry and ignore me for days.

The first time A used a toy on me, I had no idea what it was. All I knew is that it wasn’t him. A had gone to the adult store without even bothering to consult me and bought a dildo. In his sick, twisted and demented mind, he reasoned within himself that I wanted it and I would like it. He became angry with me when I got upset.

For years, A would force me to watch porn with him during sex. A would demand that I look at porn, (often lesbians or threesomes) while he was at work. When he came home, he expected me to have something for him to watch just so he could be turned on enough to fuck me. He would constantly compare me to the women in the videos, making me feel ugly, disgusting, and completely worthless. This pattern of porn, toys, and items from the produce aisle continued throughout our entire relationship. A would often beg me for threesomes, but I refused. I just couldn’t bring myself to do such a thing. Of course, A became angry and threw a tantrum whenever I refused. He would always act as if was my duty and obligation to give him whatever he wanted sexually. He never once cared about how I felt. I was just an object to him.

It often seemed that the only time’s A ever wanted to have sex with me, was while I was either asleep, sick, or recovering from surgery. He would often rape me as I slept, or force me to have sex with him when I was sick or in pain. I was never allowed to refuse him. If I did, he would punish me with the silent treatment and withholding affection for days and sometimes even weeks on end. I asked him once why he did this. He answered, “I like to feel in control.”

He liked to feel in control. My feelings didn’t matter. I was just an object to be used. Not a human. Not even a woman. Just a rag doll used over and over and tossed aside.

I Fell in love with the boy next door

It was a crisp fall day. My best friend and I were sitting out on the basketball court watching my new next-door neighbors play a little one-on-one. That is when I noticed him. I mean REALLY noticed him. I turned to my friend and declared, “I’m going to marry that guy someday.” She looked and me and retorted, “What if he wants me instead?” I fired back, “What would he want a flat-chested little bitch like you for when he can have me?”

To this day, I still have no idea what it was about him that I was so drawn to. But somehow I just knew I was going to marry that guy.

When I was thirteen, my mom and I would babysit my younger cousins. Our new next-door neighbors would bring over clothes that their kids had outgrown for my cousins.

One day when I was sitting at the bus stop on my way to school when A approached me and introduced himself. Then he left for his English class. It was a game of cat and mouse over the next few months until my fourteenth birthday. I was standing outside in the freezing cold with my new pet iguana perched on my chest. I was waiting for my mother to come home. Just then, A was coming home. He stopped to talk to me for a minute before going inside. He was interested in my new pet, and a little shocked to see that green lizard perched so contently on my chest.

It was Christmas day when I decided I wanted to be nice and thank A and his cousins for the clothes they gave my little cousins. So I bought a card in Spanish and a single yellow rose. I tucked it carefully into A’s newspaper box, knocked on the door, and ran inside.

Later that night A came and knocked on my door. I stepped out into the cold December night, and he handed me a letter along with an amethyst necklace with a little man hugging the stone. Then he left and went to a party.

I went inside and read the letter. It read:

“Dearest Clara, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”

On that letter, A had drawn a picture of God’s hands putting a broken heart back together. On the bottom of the page was a rose with a scroll. Inside the scroll, it read, “I love you.”

Enamored by A’s declaration of love for me, I waited up for him to come home. When he did, I could hardly speak. So I handed him a little pink teddy bear holding a heart that said, “I love you.” He kissed me, then went inside.

The next day we were outside talking. A kept asking me to come to his room. When I told him “no”, he got angry and told me he was going to Lollipops, which was an under-age strip club. That was the first red-flag that I didn’t see.

Over the next several months, A would repeatedly break up with me, just to come back drunk or high on cocaine and beg me to take him back. Like a naïve and foolish little girl, I did. That was the second red-flag that I just didn’t see.

Over the next couple of weeks, A continued pressuring me for sex until I broke and gave in.

One time while having sex, A had the audacity to tell me that he was imagining me as his ex. The one who gave him blow jobs. The one he wanted to marry. I was crushed. Yet, I did nothing. I stuffed the hurt deep down inside and ignored yet another burning red flag.

Fast forward to our first Valentine’s day together. A wanted to spend the night with me. ALONE. He and my mother agreed that he would pay her $100 to let him spend the night with me, ALONE. One more flaming red flag that I stuffed down and ignored.

The pattern of break-up-and-make-up continued throughout our entire twisted relationship.

Born to Be Used and Abused

Is it fair that at fourty years old, all I can really tell you about my life is that my earliest memories are of being sexually and physically abused? Pretty fucked-up, don’t ya’ think? My entire life has been plagued by the memories of heinous and insidious acts of sexual abuse, as well as physical and emotional abuse and neglect. (CPTSD really fucking sucks!)

I was just two-years-old the first time it happened. I was an innocent and helpless baby girl, still in diapers. His name was Daniel. And he was a monster. I think he was my mother’s boyfriend at the time. I remember sitting naked in the bathtub with him. He was naked, too. I remember he was masturbating. He ejaculated into his hand. He told me it was candy and he forced me to drink the hot semen from his filthy hand. Then he proceeded to sodomize me. He told me that he would kill me and my mother if I ever told anyone what he did.

At just five years old, I was sexually abused multiple times, by multiple people.
There was Steven, my mother’s boyfriend. I have vague memories of being in bed with him and my mother one night. I remember him rubbing his penis all over me. That’s all I really remember about that incident.

There was Tammy. She was the daughter of a family friend. She was just a teenager. But she was sick, twisted and certainly not a normal teenage girl. I remember she was babysitting me one night. She wanted to “play doctor”. Her demented idea of “playing doctor” with a five-year-old little girl was laying me naked on a table. I remember her spanking my vagina with a tennis-racket-shaped coffee coaster and inserting a bulb syringe into my vagina and rectum. That’s all remember.

Then there was Samuel. He was about five or six years older than me. He was the son of mom’s drinking buddy and lover, Rosalie. Sam abused me several times. I remember one time I was staying with Sam and Rosalie. Sam and I were in his room. We were both naked. He kept running into me ramming his penis into my vagina. Another time, I remember mom and I were staying on the ranch with Sam and Rosalie. Mom and Rosalie were drinking in the trailer. I remember them giving me whisky mixed with eggnog so I would pass out. They made me sleep in the back of the truck with Sam that night. Everything went black after that. I don’t remember what he did to me. But I know he abused me that night.

Then there was Norman. Satan in the flesh. Norman was evil to the core. He was a convicted child molester and a drug addict. Mom knew that, but she let him move in with us anyway. I remember the night he raped me like it was yesterday. I was only eight. Mom was passed out drunk in the bedroom. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of the T.V. I went out to the living room and saw Norman on the couch naked and pretending to be asleep. I turned off the T.V. and went back to bed. A few minutes later, Norman started calling to me, “I want a hug, Clara, I want a hug.” So back to the living room I went. This time, Norman was masturbating. I did everything an eight-year-old girl could do to try to avoid what this demon wanted to do to me. I told him, “NO”, he retorted with, “Aren’t you going to do what your “daddy” says?” “I’ll tell your mom and she’ll be mad.” I tried bringing out every single one of my stuffed animals to introduce to him, to no avail. I told him that my legs and stomach hurt. He told me my panties were too tight and demanded that I take them off. He was getting angry and I was scared. I had no choice but to obey. I took off my panties. But that wasn’t enough. He wanted my nightgown off too. Then he started demanding that I sit on his lap. I didn’t want to. I tried so hard to stop him. Just as he was lowering me onto himself and starting to penetrate me, my mother woke up and came out to the living room. She yelled at me, “What the hell are you doing out here? Get your ass back to bed!” Then she took Norman to her bedroom and they had sex. Yes, you read that right. My mother fucked the monster who had just raped her little girl.

Ahhhh… my mother. She had an issue with pornography. I remember her watching R-rated movies with nudity and sex scenes that she would pause and rewind over and over, right there with me in the room all the time. I remember a few occasions where she sat me on her lap and showed me her Playgirl magazines and tried kissing me on the lips. It’s a far cry from normal for a mother to do that to her little girl!

This is what I remember from my childhood. My innocence was stolen right along side my entire childhood because my selfish mother chose to exploit me. I have no doubts that my mother knew what was going on long before I ever told her. But she chose to do nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

Despite my mother doing absolutely nothing about what these monsters did to me, I know that one-day justice will be served. Every one of these monsters will have to stand before God and face judgment for their sins. And because of that, I can have peace of heart and mind about what was done to me.

What is Self Harm?

The practice of self-harm is not really something new. For hundreds of thousands of years, people have been resorting to self-injurious behaviors for a variety of reasons – to express anger, to show frustration and pain, and to express love and affection. However, with the rise in self-help books and websites, the practice of self-harm has gained more popularity.

Self-injurious behaviors can be divided into two categories, depending on the intent. First, there are the ones that are done just for fun and amusement. The people who engage in such behaviors like to see what their body is capable of – to experiment, try out their strength, and test how much they can hurt themselves. They may feel a sense of excitement and accomplishment after an episode of self-injury.

The second category is the most common example. It involves physical self harm or suicide. This is where the perpetrator is trying to find a way out of an emotional or physical problem. The reason for this is simple. Most people who suffer from serious psychological illnesses, anxiety, phobias, and even personality disorders find it hard to deal with their conditions without taking appropriate measures. Self-help books like those by Robert Weiss, Richard Bandler, and Michael Beckwith help them cope with these conditions.

Self-harm can be done by a person with mental health problems such as psychosis, bi-polar, and depression. Psychosis is a disorder in which the sufferer believes that they are being controlled by entities that are out to control them. If you believe in that belief, it is likely that you can commit suicide with no problem at all. Self-harm is the act of intentionally hurting yourself or doing harm to others. Most self-injurers do so to make the person they are hurting feel better, but it is also possible to do it to make yourself feel better in spite of everything.

Self-harm is often done to create the feeling that they are powerful. This is because they feel powerless. Whether they are depressed, anxious, angry, or just frustrated, most people find that they cannot control their emotions and do not know how to channel them. If you do decide to self-harm, you will need to learn some basic techniques to help you deal with the trauma and pain that you are feeling. Dealing with, as well as gain some tools to help you cope with your feelings.

Self-harm is very common among people who live in poverty. Because they have little money, they cannot buy the things they need and are therefore forced to use other people’s possessions to help them survive. As you become aware of the importance of proper self-care, you will learn to use these resources to help yourself manage your emotions and manage your finances.

Navigating the Muddy Waters of Online Dating + 17 Tips for Attracting Healthy RElationships

“Am I not relationship material?’ “Am I going to attract only assholes and narcs for the rest of my life?” “Am I just doomed to spend the rest of my life alone?”

These questions have been swirling like a whirlwind inside my head lately as I find myself feeling lonely quite often. And the sting of rejection eats away at whatever shred of self-esteem I may have.

I’ve tried out several dating apps. All of which are a joke, filled with bots and fakes.

I have met a few guys, however. But they turned out to be assholes. They didn’t see me as their woman. They had no desire for a relationship with me. I was nothing more than a booty call to them.

Instead of crying over these creeps, I just try to brush it off and pretend that I don’t care. But the truth is, I do care.

I do care how people treat me. It just seems that I am quite the narc magnetic and I couldn’t attract a sane, emotionally healthy and normal guy if my life depended on it.

It seems I’m in a bit of a dillema. How does a woman who has been abused her entire life and has no real dating experience, attract an emotionally healthy and stable guy?

Here’s 17 tips that I’ve been working on to start attracting a sane, stable and emotionally health guy.

  1. Know who you are.
  2. Know what you want.
  3. Know you’re lovable and worthy.
  4. Teach people how to treat you.
  5. Love your own company.
  6.  Be aware of how you feel in other people’s company.
  7. See people for who they really are.
  8. Don’t settle.
  9. Reflect On What You Didn’t Like In Past Relationships
  10. Build The Life You Want
  11. Find A Way To Be Happy Alone
  12. Be The Lover You Wish To Have
  13. Consider Therapy
  14. Start A Self-Care Journal
  15. Date Yourself
  16. Write A Love Letter To Yourself
  17. Dress To The Nines

Having healthy relationships starts with you. You need to decide that you won’t allow anything BUT healthy relationships. Even if your patterns in the past say otherwise, remember that you have the power to change that.

How Does Anxiety Affect You?

Anxiety disorder is often a long term mental health problem, which can seriously impact your everyday life. For some people, the condition comes on quickly, while for others it goes and leaves you feeling drained emotionally and physically. The fear and stress that anxiety causes can literally drain your reserves, leaving you feeling fatigued, stressed, and depressed. It is important to be aware of how this condition affects you so you can identify when it’s affecting you. This article will give you a few tips about how anxiety disorder can affect you.

When you start to feel anxious you may experience the symptoms of anxiety disorder. These symptoms are varied and may include a racing heart rate, sweating, palpitations and stomach problems. Anxiety can come in different forms and intensities, so it is important to try and identify what you’re experiencing to get help. If you have a friend or family member who is suffering from anxiety then it is worth having a chat to see if they can provide you with some useful tips.

There are many different ways that an anxiety disorder can affect you, and some of the more common ways include: stress, fear and worry. Stress and worry are the most common anxiety triggers, as are the many different types of anxiety including general anxiety and social anxiety. General anxiety can often lead to depression and you may feel that you just can’t cope, especially if you’ve had a stressful day at work. Social anxiety is another form of anxiety which can leave you feeling isolated and embarrassed, so it’s important to speak to your doctor and get some form of treatment as soon as possible.

An important factor to consider when suffering from anxiety disorder is the fact that the condition is often very misunderstood. The majority of people who suffer from anxiety do so because they feel insecure or ashamed, and this can be quite difficult to overcome. It is important to remember that you are not alone, there are thousands of people just like you who suffer from anxiety every single day. If you want to feel supported then try to talk to someone about your feelings and they will be able to provide you with some useful information about how to beat your anxiety.

Remember that even though the symptoms of anxiety disorder can cause great emotional stress, it’s important not to let this affect your overall health. In fact, you should be focusing on your recovery and making sure that you are keeping fit and eating well. Your brain chemistry plays an important role in the fight against anxiety and is one of the reasons why you suffer from the condition. Therefore, if you want to feel good and help your anxiety, make sure that you are eating correctly and getting plenty of rest.

You should always try to identify panic attacks as early as possible so that you can treat them when they are in their early stages. Don’t be afraid to seek help, but be aware that the earlier you seek help, the better your chances of overcoming the problem. A doctor will be able to advise you on what to look for. They will be able to identify when you are at risk of an anxiety attack, which means that they can get help and make sure you don’t suffer from a serious attack. If you are unsure, it’s a good idea to speak to your doctor, because it will give you information about the treatments available for panic attacks.


Drowning in my pain,

I’m going insane,

You stole my heart,

Then you tore it apart,

Your voice is screaming in my head,

Makes me wish I was dead,

I start to cry,

I just wanna die,

You used me and abused me,

You lied and you cheated,

You made everyone think I’m crazy,

Took me away from family and friends,

But this is where it ends,

You replaced us with them,

You’re high on new supply,

While we’re dying inside,

So this is goodbye,

Please don’t cry,

Forever and always,


Copyright Clara J White, October 21, 2020

Passing the State Exam and Returning to Work

I feel as if a tremendous weight has been lifted off my chest and I can breathe a sigh of relief. The state exam was a breeze. And I just received word today that I passed the exam and I can return to work TOMORROW.

Now, it’s time for me to hustle and bust my ass. I have nearly four months of car payments and insurance to catch up on, and I want to save up to move the hell out of this house!

It’s definitely been rough the last few months, but the struggles have taught me a lesson in patience and perseverance.

Step by baby step, I am getting closer to a better life. A life of peace, joy and love. A life of freedom and independence. A life that is my own.

I’m happy. Genuinely happy. I never thought I’d work as a CNA again. But here I am, certified and ready to return to my residents.


I am lonely and depressed,

Always feeling down and supressed,

I have no feelings of joy or cheer,

Always looking for advice from my peer,

I am full of love and hate,

And I know I’ll never find the perfect mate,

Always loosing my cool,

And acting the part of a damn fool,

I am someone with an inferiority complex,

Afraid of everything including sex,

Always feeling nervous and tense,

Knowing that I am somewhat stupid and dense,

I am someone of the present, not the future,

Never knowing when to grow up and be mature,

Oh God, why can’t I realize what I’m doing,

I’m hurting myself as well as others,

Never knowing what I’m doing,

To my sisters and brothers.

Copyright Debbie Lee White, January 1977


I turn off the lights,

And lock the door,

As I fall to the floor,

No one is home,

I’m all alone,

Tears stream down my face,

Won’t somebody get me out of this place?

Memories flood my mind,

Like I’m standing still in time,

I’m going out of my fucking mind.

I’m frozen,

Somehow I’ve been chosen,

All this pain,

It’s driving me insane,

I’m filled with shame and dread,

Wishing I was dead,

You’re not here,

There’s nothing to fear,

I won’t shed a tear,

This is my life now.

But I don’t know how,

I’ll make it,

When I’m all alone.

Copyright Clara J White, October 21, 2020

Depression – What Causes It

Depression is a very complicated condition. No one knows what triggers it, but it may happen for many reasons. The biggest causes are stress and loss of a loved one. Sexual abuse is a very common cause of depression in both adults and children. Past sexual, physical, or emotional trauma can greatly increase the risk of clinical depression in life later on. Certain drugs. In rare instances, depression caused by medication.

Depression is a very common mental disorder. It affects millions of people around the world, most of whom are women. It is known to be the leading cause of disability, unemployment, and death from all causes, both external and internal. Depression affects the family, work, school, and relationships. Depression can affect a person’s life in so many different ways that it is almost impossible to imagine it happening without it. Because depression can lead to so many problems, there are several ways to treat it.

Medication. Many people choose to take prescription or over-the-counter anti-depressants to treat their depression. It is important, however, that you talk with your doctor before taking any medication to treat your depression. There are many different types of anti-depressants available and each have different side effects and different benefits. Some antidepressants may help with mild depression, while others will provide relief for more severe cases.

Natural treatments. You may want to look into some natural treatments to help treat your depression. These types of treatments are usually much safer than many prescription anti-depressants and have been proven to work just as well.

Therapy. If you need help treating your depression, it is possible to get therapy for free at a local mental health center. However, it is generally not free unless you have to pay for it out of pocket. Therapists who are qualified can help you treat your depression for as little or as much money as you can afford. They may also be able to offer some form of medication to help reduce your symptoms.

If none of these options help you, don’t worry. There are other forms of treatment out there to consider. There are many mental health organizations that can help you learn about these options and even provide counseling if you have a hard time finding a good therapist to help you with your depression. Many of these organizations can even help you find therapy. medication if you think you may have a drug addiction. This is something to discuss with your therapist, and is something that may be worth exploring as well.

Narcissistic Injury And Why Narcs Can’t Forgive

Why do people with narcissism tend to react so vehemently when threatened by a perceived wrong? The answer is complicated:

Narcissists suffer from what the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders defines as narcissistic injury:

“… vulnerability in self-esteem which makes narcissistic people very sensitive to ‘injury’ from criticism or defeat. Although they may not show it outwardly, criticism may haunt these individuals and may leave them feeling humiliated, degraded, hollow and empty. They react with disdain, rage, or defiant counterattack.”

I’d like to share with you my personal experience dealing with narcissistic injury and a narc’s inability to forgive and let shit go.

In this post, I described how during a separation I had an affair that lasted roughly a month. Over the years, I also had a few emotional affairs with guys I met online.

A refused to let these things go no matter how many times I apologized. No matter what I did to try to make things right, it was never enough. Every time I left the house, I was accused of cheating. So I just quit leaving the house. But that wasn’t enough. If my phone rang, A demanded to know who was calling. Even if I picked up my phone to check the time or message one of our boys, A demanded to know who I was talking to. So I just quit answering my phone.

A would bring up my indiscretions almost daily. He would call me a whore constantly and force me to do things with him sexually that he knew I wasn’t okay with. He would demand oral and throw a tantrum if I didn’t comply. He would often cover my face and would put his hands around my neck and insisted that I told him that I liked it. Every time we had sex, A would fill my head with stories of how he masturbated when imagining me with the other guy. He would go on and on about what he thought I did with that guy. He would demand that I tell him every detail of what happened sexually between and that other guy. Mind you, I was not only manic and psychotic, but I was also blackout drunk all the time. I have very little recollection of what happened. What I do remember is very blurry.

A was beyond delusional. Every day for five long years, he would fill my head with things he swore I told him happened during the affair. He would do things to me sexually that was painful not just physically, but psychologically, always causing me to dissociate. He always swore that I told him that I did those things with the other guy and that I enjoyed it.

Of course, that was lightyears from the truth. But it didn’t matter to him. A was drowning me in his paranoid delusions. It didn’t matter what he was doing to me. It didn’t matter that he cheated multiple times too. For all that he had ever done to me, it was always my fault anyway. So therefore, I obviously owed him forgiveness.

Yet he never forgave me. For anything. But I no longer give a damn.


I Don’t Love You Anymore

I don’t love you anymore,

I shut the door,

To all the lies and pain,

You drove me insane,

I don’t love you anymore,

I’m no longer yours,

You lied and you cheated,

No I won’t be defeated,

I don’t love you anymore,

I am not your whore.

You broke my heart,

And tore me apart,

You did it from the start.

I don’t love you anymore,

I am wounded to my core,

All the things you said,

Keep running through my head,

Makes me wish I was dead.

No more tears,

And no more fears,

It’s pretty clear,

That I don’t need you here.

I’m letting you go,

Just so you know,

You set me free,

And soon you’ll see,

I’m doing this for me.

It’s over now,

You left me for her,

Now the past is all a blur.

But that’s alright,

I’ll make it through the night,

‘Cuz I don’t love you anymore.

Copyright Clara J White, October 21, 2020

My Life After Abuse

Olivia Lucie Blake

Musings of a Millennial. Life, The World and Everything In Between

Fighting for a Future

Supporting Survivors of Childhood Abuse and Complex PTSD

Spitfyre Phoenix Rising

Recovering from a lifetime of narcissistic abuse and reclaiming my mind, body, and spirit

Recovering from Narcissists

Narcissistic Abuse

A Blog About Healing From PTSD

Healing After Narcissistic Abuse & Complex Trauma

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