I wish I felt like enough.

Im eleven years out of my abusive childhood home. Where I had food clothes and water but was constantly called worthless. Was supported in my academics, but then no one showed up to my award ceremonies. Regularly I was spanked so bad that purple hand inprints painted their way up my back and down my thighs. My back was engraved with blood just under my skin. We left my dad after his third attempt to kill us as we were trapped in out home in the woods, not allowed to leave for three months as my dad had visions of being Gods messenger.

Once we left i got sick but no one believed me, I was a liar and a crybaby as my body tore itself apart. My pain wasn't real. Not u til clumps of hair started falling out. My medicines were taken away as punishment, or in preparation for church donation trips, so I would look sicker. I fell in a well we my sister on Christmas day and we got out. My mom called the ambulance for my sister and made me find blankets to warm her as I slowly went into shock from hypothermia. She didn't even bother to see that my hair was wet.

She tried to kill us too. Twice with her car and once with her bare hands. I took the beatings to try and save my little sister. She called me worthless, disgusting, that I only deserved someone that beat me with closed fists. She never considered it abuse unless there were closed fists. She used her fake nails, bought with my pity money, to scratch deep enough into my arms to leave scars.

We went into foster care. I was so used to the abuse that I didn't even realize my foster mom, with unmedicated bipolar disorder, would abuse us mentally and emotionally as well. But to me, it was heaven. I met my husband while living in that house. I went into remission in that house.

We went into the real world and it was hard. Without a safety net I had to work 3 jobs while I went to school full time. It brought me out of remission and for the last seven years I've battled my illness. Some days I don't know who's winning.

I cant work anymore. I've been unwell and pushed myself so hard for so long that I can barely do an hour of work before needing to sleep. I write, and am on the second draft of a novel.

Ive tried therapy. I've opened my heart so many times. I can't find a therapist who helps me, despite my trying everything my past therapists have suggested. I can't figure this all out and I am so tired. U just want to feel like enough. I just want a therapist that will guide me do the things I need to heal. I just don't want to end every small argument I have with my husband in a panic attack.

When does it get better?