First blog post

My name is Jennifer M. Noble and I am so pleased to meet you. I am just as excited to know that you were able to find me here and now.  For so many years, I have been the one needing and searching for help coping with everyday stresses that have presented themselves to me on an everyday basis. Here and now I have found the strength and a desire to help those that are in need of coping with everyday stresses. I want my story to be heard and I want my story to be used as a learning tool. I am not a life coach that has said to anyone, “I know what you are going through”, without actually going through it. Coping skills are amazing tools if implemented correctly, consistently, and with a great support system. I am happy to answer questions, give opinions, even give some advice. I understand its hard when you don’t know someone to openly talk. So ask questions and lets help each other find a solution to your stresses.

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Blazing Fire Blasting

1984 was a very difficult year for me. Still at the age of 9 and not long before turning 10 my mom decided divorce was her solution. We didn’t see my dad as often as we had before yet he still stayed in a cottage not even a mile from our house. My dad tried hard to convince my mom otherwise, but her mind was set.

One day right after the divorce was final in 1985, my sisters and I got ourselves off to school. Getting ourselves off to school in the morning was normal, as my mom was heading to work shortly after she’d wake us up. This particular morning was different. We arrived at school and within minutes we were being called from class to be greeted in the hallway by the principle and our Nana (Beatrice Hayes). We were all smiles thinking she was there to snatch us from school to do something fun (which she had done before). Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case at all. She was teary eyed and didn’t tell us what was going on until the car reached a straight stretch and we could all see the smoke rolling up into the sky, fire trucks with there flashing lights, the flashing lights of police cruisers, and lights from an ambulance all sparkling in the near distance.

As we pulled closer and stopped tears and fear struck us all as our home was blazing. We lost everything that day. Everything except the clothes on our backs. Not sure if what ever happened to cause the fire was ever told to me, but I always had the feeling and still from time to time wonder if my dad did it to us. After the fire we were forced ( all 5 of us) to live in a small camper on my grandparents lawn. The money my mom had saved for rent and such went up in flames with our home. I remember cars visiting us in our camper, coming and going constant for a week, all dropping off clothes, toys, books, and more. The community helped us through this tragic event and how grateful we were. The memories still haunt us all today.

To Be Continued…..

More Blasting

Below is a picture of my family taken not that long before the puppy punishment happened.  I am the taller blonde of my 3 sisters. The man standing behind me is the man who thought that punishment was justifiable (my father). If I’m going to blast everything about my life, I might as well not leave any of the details out.

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After the punishment of the puppy and weeks of feuding between my mom and dad, they decided to live separately.  Dad only lived a mile away and took us kids sometimes to get something to eat and then brought us right back to mom. I believe he only did it to see our mom anyways.

He continued to drink and continued to start battles with my mom at her work and at our home (usually late at night). Got to the point he’d show up just to blow cookies in the driveway, push and damage my mothers car so she couldn’t drive it to work, and stagger around in the driveway screaming how much he hated all us for his unhappiness. Even went as far as coming into the house late at night one night. I could hear him talking low with my mom in the other room. Then voices started to rise, I remember feeling the nerves tighten in my body and the overwhelming feeling of getting sick.

Then, my whole room lit up by the living room light because my bedroom door flung open. My father with furry came at me with my mom screaming to leave me alone and grasping at his arm to make him stop. As my eyes grew big quickly I covered my face with my hands. His large hands covered the top of my head and his fingers closed with a fist of hair. With a head of hair in one hand and my mom hanging off the other, I was dragged from my bed and tossed into a corner of the living room. I was in a ball crying in the corner he had left me and every time he screamed for me to shut the F*** up, I would cry harder.

 

To Be Continued…..

 

 

 

 

Blasting The Punishment

After the big fight my dad was kicked out for awhile. Here is the punishment I was explaining about, remember it’s not for the weak stomach types.

He came to visit us two days after he had left and that’s the night he brought that puppy. We (my sisters and I) all sat on the couch fighting over who was going to hold the puppy next and who held him the longest. It wasn’t until I realized that my mom had to work that night and dad was there to keep an eye on us, then my heart dropped. Yup, that gut wrenching, I’m going to puke feeling. I walked on eggshells that night as my dad watched TV and guzzled back his Milwaukee Best brand beer. It was when he said, “Okay girls, bed time, and you (pointing at me) can have a seat on the couch, because we need to have a talk” that if I’m remembering correctly made my heart stop beating for a moment.

I sat on that couch in total silence for what seemed to be hours (probably 30 minutes). Watching him guzzle his beer, smoke his cigarettes, shake his head (as if going over his thoughts in his head), and make absolutely no eye contact with me. It was when I picked up this little black puppy that was sprawled out on the couch beside me onto my lap, then his head snapped to look in my direction. He never took his eyes off from me as he staggered to his feet, walked over to the couch, and sat right beside me. He pets the puppy while it was in my lap and asked me if I loved the puppy. I only shook my head yes, I think I was too scared for words to have come out properly and I was trying to stay composed as my dad got angry when a child (especially his child) cried and sobbed like a baby.

Then, with precise accuracy his hand cupped the bottom of my face and pulled me in close to his. I can remember the smell of his breath, the redness of his eyes, the anger in his demeanor, and the spit frequently peppering my face as the words started to flow from his mouth. “Do you remember what I said would happen if you tell your mother?” he said. I couldn’t help the fact tears rolled down my face, I tried to be strong, but at the age of nine, I had absolutely no control over it at this point. The next words out of his mouth scared me more than his hand still cupping my face. “Now you’re not going to scream, you’re not going to tell anyone, and you’re NOT going to say a word to your mother about your punishment tonight. Correct?” He said, with the meanest look of discus I had ever seen. Again, all I did was shake my head, I didn’t really see I had a choice at this point. Then the unthinkable and unforgivable punishment unfolded. He released my face and within seconds snatched the puppy from my lap, held it up to my face, and with one twist of his large thick hand, had snapped that puppies neck. The puppy went limp, my eyes grew, and my hand cupped my mouth in shock. “Now go to friggin bed” were the last words he said to me that night. The next morning, I remember dad not being there, but my mom was sad. She told us that she was sorry, that the puppy must have been sick and had passed away during the night. I so badly wanted to tell her, but out of fear I never told a soul.

To Be Continued…

Blasting again….

My sisters and I didn’t have a great life, nor were we associated with the upper class. When I was 9 years old we moved to a house my parents decided to rent, low and behold we were coming up in the world. meaning, we had electricity, water, and even a TV. Not sure why exactly, but my dad began drinking more and stayed away longer. Then the unexplained happen. My mother sent me to work with him and when he was done work decided to take a detour.

Hours and hours I had sat in that car after we pulled up to a huge white house, not far from my dads work. He said, ” sit here and I’ll be out soon”. That is just what I did, I sat quietly for hours and too scared of my dad to get out of the car. In my head I was screaming to have out of that car. I had to use the bathroom, I wanted to call my mom, and I wanted to go home.  Finally, the front door opened and a women had kissed my dad on the cheek as he started for the car.

The only thing my dad said to me when he had returned was, ” tell your mother and your punishment will be doubled, got it”. I quietly shook my head YES and home we went. I was 9 years old, keeping a secret was hard, but the acknowledgement that the punishment my mom would give if she found out I didn’t tell her would be greater. Yup, I spilled every detail of our (dad and me) time together. The explosion happening outside my bedroom door that night between my mom and dad was horrifying. Listening to the smashing of glass, the screams of unanswered questions, the short lived dead silence when dad would walk out of the house slamming the door (over and over again).

 

To Be Continued….

Blasting Back Into My Past

While I was sitting and pondering about my next few postings, I realized that the best way to get my story out, was to just start at the beginning. So, I am going to blast myself back into my past and start at the beginning and post twice weekly my life. In return, you will have a better understanding of who I am, understand why I was diagnosed with Bi-Polar 1 with Psychosis, and why I have a mission to help others.

From the age of 5 till I was 7, I lived in a small 2 bedroom trailer with my mom, dad, and 3 sisters. Yes, the space was cramped. We lived with no power and no water access on the property. All cooking was done on a wood stove, lights were by lanterns, baths were by our mother pouring spring water from 5 gallon buckets over our bodies as we washed ourselves. During winter months and with plenty of snow on the ground, my sisters and I carried buckets of snow in the trailer to thaw for cooking the next day. I didn’t have an easy life that was for sure.

My father was an alcoholic and a mean one at that. My mom worked 2 jobs and was sad most of the time. She always told us it wouldn’t be this way forever. I remember thinking that the way we lived wasn’t so bad, except for a few facts. We (my sisters and I) weren’t aloud to have friends over to visit, we weren’t aloud to go to friends homes, and being with all my sisters cramped into one small bedroom.

To be continued…..

 

Living with Bi-Polar 1 with Psychosis

I compiled instances of my childhood traumas, struggles, and successes in this educational Bio. I’ve shared disturbing events of why I was diagnosed, how I was diagnosed, my treatment plan, and the impact it all made on the life I live today.

 

A Small Introduction of who I am!

Having goals in life and having a purpose makes this guide even more of a challenge. Being a dedicated mom, friend, and girlfriend has put me on a mission to help others that have gone through what I have. On the Brink of no return with alcohol and drugs, I overcame it all for my new found family. In return, I created this guide for others to implement new ways to discipline, consequence, and reward your children. Someday your children will be alone out in today’s hectic society, let’s make them sociably except-able.

 

 

 

Parenting 101 Lesson

Something popped into my thoughts as my sisters boyfriend had slapped the hand of my nephew. His exact words were, ” No, you do not hit me” as he slapped my nephews hand for hitting his leg to get his attention. Keep in mind my nephew is only 1 1/2 years old. Here is the lesson: How can you teach a child that it is not appropriate behavior to hit if you are hitting them as punishment? You are suppose to be setting an example to these kids. Kids learn by mimicking their parents words, actions, and reactions. So hitting your child because he/she is hitting gives the child a mixed signal and an unclear notion whether hitting is permitted or not. So before you punish a child with the same actions your suggesting is not permitted, try a more productive approach. For instance, talking to the child of why hitting isn’t permitted, a time out for hitting, or something that excludes hitting back.

Learned Skill # 10

Have you ever been a shoulder for a friend, family, even a stranger you had just met and hear them say, “I have nothing, what am I going to do”? OR, “I have the worst luck in the world, why bother”? Even, “I hate my life, I just wish it was over”? There are so many other examples of conversations we have heard over the years of a depressed, grieving, or mentally unstable person. These people just need you to listen and give them a reason to be happier, guidance if you will. Some people lose site of positives in their life, even if the person is homeless, going through a divorce, or have lost a loved one. Pointing out positives can really have an impact on another persons emotions. It doesn’t matter how little the reassurance of a positive thought is your giving someone, with all the negative thoughts they have, it’s like planting a beautiful seed in a withered garden. You can be their shoulder to lean on, their ear to listen, and their voice of reasoning. Everyone needs someone, why can’t it be YOU!