Join Prism Book Alliance® as JP Barnaby goes Outside the Margins today.
So, my therapist will be very proud of this post—we’ll start there. I’ve been working on the book he wants me to write—a psychological purge of the defense mechanisms I learned to deal with my childhood sexual abuse. In the process, I figured out something pretty profound. I have developed a nearly impenetrable defense mechanism to deal with the death of my daughter. It caused my state of emotional crisis upon moving to Atlanta—it’s the reason I’m in therapy and on medication.
I have a strong and innate fear of responsibility.
Now, you might say that no one really likes responsibility, but it’s different for me. I’ve spent my entire life hiding behind my parents. It didn’t matter if I lost my job because my parents would be there. I’d always have some place to live, because they’d never kick me out or even suggest that I move out. In fact, my mom still wants me to move back. I never wanted to babysit my nieces alone. I never wanted to be in charge of event planning. In fact, when I’d travel, my friend Jodi traveled with me and made all the arrangements, she even got me to where I was going at the actual events. William takes care of most everything else.
Why have I done this?
As a teenager, I suffered from severe depression, especially after my abuse came to light. My high school boyfriend fucked my best friend and ended up marrying her, and I ended up pregnant and abandoned by the father at eighteen. That’s a lot to deal with in a three year span, but that was just the beginning. The entire weight of the transplant process, of a desperately ill child, and of raising a little girl alone fell squarely, painfully on my shoulders. My family was right there, every minute, but the responsibility of saving my little girl’s life was mine.
And I failed.
The one thing in my life I had ever been responsible for, and I failed. Since then, I have come to understand that I did everything I could for her. We kept her healthier than they’d ever seen a cardiac baby. We got her to the transplant. But, it just didn’t work.
However, the innate feeling of helplessness stayed. The unconscious feeling of never wanting to be in charge, never wanting to be responsible—it stayed. It wasn’t too long after that when I became a submissive—because I didn’t want to be in charge. I wanted for someone to tell me what to do, how to behave, how to get through my life because I certainly wasn’t doing that on my own. It helped.
When I landed in Atlanta – I was suddenly thrust into responsibility. I had rent to pay, and if I didn’t do that, my roommates would lose the apartment right along with me. I had to do laundry. I had to plan and make meals. I had to go grocery shopping. I had friends to socialize with. For most people, they learned these skills throughout their life and being on their own isn’t such a big deal. For me, it was a huge deal, and in that moment, something inside me broke. Depression, anxiety, fear, pain, it assaulted me from all sides until I didn’t know what to do anymore. I went to the physician of a friend and he prescribed three different medications for depression and anxiety. He suggested that I find a therapist and gave me a recommendation. I was scared, I’ll admit. I was also humiliated that I couldn’t function like a normal adult. My friends stood right beside me and held me up as I figured things out.
Now, I’ve met a guy – and he’s starting to talk about getting married and having kids—the anxiety has spiked again. If I can’t take care of myself, how am I supposed to take care of an entire household? He doesn’t understand that something inside of me is broken, and I don’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t understand that pushing isn’t going to help, and if he pushes hard enough, something is going to break beyond the point of repair. I keep hoping that with the meds and the therapy, I’ll be able to bridge that gap between me and normalcy. Writing helps, and I’ve been working on new projects, but I don’t know that any of it will be enough.
So, boys and girls, welcome to psych 101—the deconstruction of JP.
Exits are here—here—here—and here.
Hope you enjoy the ride.
About JP Barnaby
Award winning romance novelist, J. P. Barnaby has penned over a dozen books including the Working Boys series, the Little Boy Lost series, In the Absence of Monsters, and Aaron. As a bisexual woman, J.P. is a proud member of the GLBT community both online and in her small town on the outskirts of Chicago. A member of Mensa, she is described as brilliant but troubled, sweet but introverted, and talented but deviant. She spends her days writing software and her nights writing erotica, which is, of course, far more interesting. The spare time that she carves out between her career and her novels is spent reading about the concept of love, which, like some of her characters, she has never quite figured out for herself.
Web site: http://www.JPBarnaby.com
I have a number of paperbacks, most of which are signed, to giveaway. Over the between now (11 Mar 2017) and 31 Mar 2017, every comment on the blog (this post and all other new posts), will be entered to win 1 of these paperbacks. There are also some misc swag items, so there will be a few packs of these to give away as well.
Thank you so much for your support over the last 4 years. Prism will be closing its doors on 1 April 2017. All content will remain available, but no new content will appear after 31 Mar 2017. As such all request forms have been turned off. Again Thank you,
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