Jeanne & Julie:

I hope I'm not overstepping the boundaries here but I've been struggling with a variety of issues and really need a little help. In order to give you a clear picture, I guess I better give you my background:

I learned early that perfection drowned out the pain of my childhood – those voices that played relentlessly over and over and over in my head.

•You’ll never amount to anything, •Why can’t you be like your sister or your brother? •Why don’t you think before you speak? •You never do anything right. •You’re lazy. •You could do better. •Are you stupid? •What’s wrong with you?
•I can’t stand to look at you. •You make me sick.
•I hate you.•You're fat, why don't you lose weight. •I wish you had never been born ... and so many more words that were wielded with the precision of an expert marksman.

Just reading them over brings a deep sadness within my heart. Even though I know they aren’t true, those words and others like them left their mark not only in my heart but also in my emotions and my mind.

As a child, I found the best escape was to just get away. Whether it was physically fleeing to the safety of the outdoors or a flight of fancy within my mind to a world of make-believe, I evaded these verbal weapons of abuse.

Even school offered no escape. Looking back, I wonder why I was the target of so many jokes. As I got older, the jokes turned into mean-spirited pranks that wounded my already damaged spirit. Was it because, like hunters sensing wounded and bleeding prey, they honed in on the kill? Was it because I never fought back? Was it because they somehow knew that I wouldn’t retaliate? I couldn’t. I’d been trained to believe I had no value or worth so I accepted their cruel words and pranks as what I deserved.

Somehow, I stumbled on a coping mechanism that would put an end to the abusive words and treatment. The more I achieved, the less criticism I received.

Perfection is the perfect antidote to feeling unloved and worthless. Once I started working, I became any employer’s dream. Whatever task I was given, I would give two hundred percent in completing it. And accomplish it in half the time it would take others.

Give me the impossible and I’d make it look easy.

Once I found a professional career track, I quickly moved up the ladder – promotion after promotion, award after award – and I loved every minute of it. I was building my own self-worth and making myself invaluable to those around me … be it my boss, my friends, my peers, subordinates, or superiors, and my family. I was the golden girl.

It got to the point that I never heard the voices of my past and I was more than content. I was living my dream. I was in a position where I could use my creativity in just about any direction I aimed. I was admired, an example of success, and totally in control.

The problem with using performance to quiet ghosts from the past is that if you stop performing, the ghost voices become louder and you begin to realize you don’t have much value if you can’t produce. And if you can’t produce, you lose control.

Unfortunately, I didn’t learn that lesson until I had a stroke and lost it all.

Not only did I lose my career, I lost my independence, I lost my mental acuity, I lost my memory … and the most devastating loss was my sense of worth and value.

I no longer had a stellar career, or the respect of my peers, subordinates, and superiors. Instead, I had their pity. I was no long self-sufficient. There were times when I was driving and I couldn’t remember where I was even though I was in a place I’d lived for 20 years. I no longer had emotional and mental stability. I began a monumental battle with severe depression and then tried juggling vicious anxiety attacks. Not even my faith could comfort me.

Ultimately, I believed I had nothing – worthless and completely unlovable.

I was a mess.

At 40, I’d been on top. At 50, I was sliding downward into a future that would soon rob me of my mother and (step)father. On top of that, after my mother's death, I guess my subconscious finally felt safe enough to allow me to remember ... and I discovered years of sexual abuse by my father and a few others. While I went through this discovery with the help of an awesome therapist, I was unable to really work through a lot of it since I decided to come to Germany to be with my husband. That wasn't my original idea but after he left I felt so abandoned, I HAD to come.

There are times I’m filled with an almost unbearable sorrow and sadness. Often I know what triggers it although it doesn’t make it any less painful. But it’s when I’m clueless as to the source of the anguish that I feel most helpless. Some days I go spiraling down into dark depressive thoughts. I hate it there. Then there are the panic and anxiety attacks that leave me gasping for air and running from anything that might somehow leave me trapped with no way out. I feel as terrified as a child caught in the most frightening of nightmares.

And I struggle with depression, anxiety and panic ... and take medication for those things.

My question (finally), can anxiety and panic attacks be so severe that they bring on thoughts of suicide? I want to make it clear I don't believe I'm suicidal ... but lately it seems that when I experience these problems, I just want to give up ... kind of tired of working on the issues and always being "someone elses'" savior (sound familiar to anyone ?

I'd just like to find out if these reactions are normal. And I understand if you are unable to answer ... I'm just hoping maybe someone else has experienced what I'm going through.

Sorry for the length of the post but this is the only place I knew to come for some answers.

Thanks and blessings, Francine