Don’t Tell Me I Can’t
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My life of anxiety began when I was three years old when I flushed my grandpa’s teeth down the toilet because I thought it was cereal in a Peanut Butter jar. My mom told me that I did not speak for a week because I was so scared of them being mad at me. I still struggle with people being mad at me. My grandpa told my parents, “Those teeth never fit right in the first place.” Thanks Grandpa!”
In March 1998, I was in the hospital. On March 17, 1998 Nick, my husband, came up for a quick thirty minute visit. About thirty minutes later the sheriffs’ deputies came and delivered my divorce papers. I never saw it coming. Nick never mentioned to me that he was divorcing me. He said that I just forgot that he told me. I know I would not have forgotten news like that even though I was messed up pretty badly. I was devastated. I couldn’t believe that that was happening to me. I had lost custody of my children and now the man that I leaned on had abandoned me in the hospital. Nick did not bring Betty and Andrew to see me while I was in the hospital where I had been so many times. He said that hat he was too busy.
Some people think he is a coward for the way he treated me. I asked Nick at a later date if he regretted divorcing me like he did and he said, “No, I had to choose between taking care of you or taking care of the kids and I chose to take care of the kids.” I had been very dependent on Nick. No matter how abusive he was I still loved him.
The day came when I was able to see my children for the last time before I left to wait for the divorce hearing. I remember playing Candy Land with Betty and holding Andrew. Nick came to unlock the door because he had already changed the locks, but the judge ordered him not to be in the house with me while I was there. So he and his dad sat outside in his car in the next door neighbors drive way. I was allowed to gather some of my belongings, but he had already put my clothes in a car that he said that I could have. Then I had to leave not knowing when I would be able to see my children again.
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About the Book
In Don’t Tell Me I Can’t, the author describes the anxiety and depression that she has had since early childhood. She also describes the darkest moments of her life, such as when she was waiting for a judge to hand down the decision about the disposition of her children. Her ongoing bouts of depression and anxiety are also described.
About the Author
Nancy Phillips graduated from college in 1991. She worked in the mental health field for seven years. She earned a peer support specialist certification and became an In Our Own Voice presenter as well as a certified psychiatric rehabilitation practitioner. She continues to work on her recovery from anxiety, depression, and schizoaffective disorder.