Beth's Story

I grew up in an abusive household where there was physical, emotional and sexual abuse. I have two sisters and one brother. I was beaten several times throughout my childhood. And this was at the hands of my father who was considered a pillar in the community. We had to uphold a front due to his “impeccable” reputation .
I don’t remember much of anything of my life up through age 10 or maybe even later. 
Three vivid experiences do stick in my mind however: 1) A fight between my sister and my father where each had a pair of scissors in their hands and were threatening to kill each other and I got in the middle of them and begged them to stop 2) the time I got thrown down an entire set of stairs after which, my father hugged me and told me the only reason he did it was because “he loved me.” I was sick to my stomach and cringing and 3) my oldest sister’s boyfriend (who eventually became her husband) hitting us and pinching us till we had bruises on our arms and legs… “in fun” as he put it. Not fun in my book. And we were not known as a family of violence – police were never called. You didn’t have 911 in the late 60’s, We kept it to ourselves
Aside from the abuse, there was rarely anything positive said to me (or my sisters that matter) by my father. In fact, quite the opposite. 
Some of what he said to me was “you don’t talk right, you don’t act right, you don’t smile right, I don’t like your hair, you’re ugly... you name it. It was almost constantly negative. 
I believe, that due to the abuse, I developed anxiety at an early age. In my early teens, I started to develop a shaking condition. It only happened on occasion at that point but it would escalate over the years to the point where it became debilitating. 
In grade school I started acting up and as a teenager I was punished a few times but I can’t remember what I did exactly. I just know it wasn’t good because I remember the punishments, but not the crimes.
In my early teens, I started hitting myself with a metal pipe which caused bruising and pain. To this day, I don’t know why I did it.
During my first year in college, I lived at home. And, I got into drugs at the school. I lived in a very dangerous and precarious place – buying, using and running deals to help out a “friend” of mine. One night this so called friend asked if I wanted to shoot up heroin. I had never done heroin before so I figured “why not?” I didn’t know any better at the time. I was 18 and rebelling against an extremely strict and repressive upbringing. Shortly after he gave me the injection, I became violently ill. I asked him why I was so sick and his words to me were “I just gave you enough heroin to kill a horse.” And then he laughed. I failed to see the humor in it but it’s a moment I’ll never forget. While I survived the night, I ended up in the emergency room a few days later because I developed an infection where the needle entry was. That incident was the last of my drug use and I’m lucky to have survived that time. 
When I left the house at age 19, the parting words from my father were, “Nothing you will ever do will impress me”.
Well, I was gonna show him that I could be somebody. And my next 30 years were spent trying to prove to him that I was somebody, that I could make it on my own, and be successful. That I could overcome what had happened to me. I vowed that I would never have someone have control of my life like that again. 
But with that thought, in mind, I became a perfectionist in the extreme to overcome my low self esteem. It worked for a while. I earned a college degree while employed full time and graduated with a 3.95 GPA, Summa Cum Laude.
I was gonna prove to my dad that I could make it in the business world. His words kept haunting me however and I was driven by, “I have to prove it to him, I have to.” 
And I did do it. I had a very successful career but it began to unravel after about 25 years. The shaking episodes became worse and worse. I had what I call four or five ‘melt downs’ – that is in public speaking engagements, I would tremble so badly I could not go on. The level of anxiety was so intense it’s hard to describe. I started to have panic attacks and I was hospitalized three times for them. The doctors thought I was having heart problems but could not find anything wrong with my heart. 
I was stumbling at work for the first time in my life and was told by a counselor associated with my job, “Beth, you have no peace”. I was sobbing in a coffee shop with her when she told me that. But, she didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. Shortly thereafter, I lost a great job that I had had for 11 years in a high level corporate position.
I got to the point where I couldn’t eat in front of people at business lunches because I couldn’t keep food on my fork due to the shaking. I started ordering sandwiches so I could hold my food with both hands (two hands tended to steady me) and hopefully, people wouldn’t notice. I began to feel nauseous just being around people. And I did get sick on occasion - one time, after a business meeting, I had to pull the car off to the side of the interstate, I was so sick. It wasn’t pretty. That’s the level of anxiety I was feeling.
But the toughest challenge I have faced in my life came last year in late February. You see, I was married to my best friend for 18 years. We were together for 21 years. We did everything together and led a great life –good jobs, nice house, expensive golf vacations, and a country club membership. He was my biggest supporter and my source of self esteem and happiness. I counted on him to build me up and tell me everything was okay and that I was a good person. Almost every night we’d go out to dinner and night clubs. That period of my life was really good and I was happy. That’s a long time and many people don’t have that ever. He told me he loved me everyday and I had great love for him. Being with him was one of the richest experiences of my life. However, that life ended in the blink of an eye.
On February 19th, he was on his way home from work (he was a lawyer), when he suffered a massive brain aneurism which led to a horrific car crash. He was basically dead before he ever hit the cars involved. The exit ramp was closed for three hours so the police could clean up the mess. Needless to say, I was devastated and in total shock. And he left me with serious financial problems that I did not know about. 
In the months that followed, I didn’t want to live. I sought solace in wine and isolation. I cried 10-12 hours a day and didn’t know how I was going to get through. I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it as no one I knew had lost their husband at such a young age. Their lives were in tact in my view…mine was not. I became suicidal. That was basically all I thought about. I decided I didn’t have the energy or will to continue with my life. 
I became suicidal. That was basically all I thought about. I wanted to be with my husband and to kill myself was the only way I knew how. I got the pills out but wanted to make sure I finished the job. I went to the Internet as I was actually looking for a way to end my life with some medications that had been prescribed for me (I wanted to make sure what a lethal dosage was and believe it or not, I was able to get that information). But that’s when I came across a web site, peaceplusprogram.com, that offered to help people. 
When I first talked to Vince I was angry, sad, and inconsolable. To say I was difficult is an understatement. I felt cheated and robbed of what had been a happy life. But Vince more than hung in with me offering compassion, understanding and solutions so I could go on. Like Vince, I made a bonafide attempt at suicide. This was no “cry for help”. This was a means to get rid of the pain and hopelessness I was feeling. I had crossed the line one evening of thinking about it and actually doing it. In the midst of taking too many prescription pills, Vince happened to call. He could tell by my incoherence and rambling that something had happened. I don’t remember what I said to him. All I know is that, even though we live far apart, he was able to get me help within minutes and I was put in the hospital. 
He called me almost everyday while I was there with words of encouragement and comfort. Over time, I realized that night would have been my last had it not been for him.
Over the years, he has continued to counsel me. He has showed great empathy and understanding and offered valuable solutions to my thinking. He never became impatient with me even when I was belligerent and mean due to the self-pity I was wallowing in. He encouraged me to take positive action in my life and at some point, I finally listened. He never indicated he felt sorry for me which was a good thing. He just kept me on tract to a healthier road to living.
As I mentioned, my husband left me with financial issues. Among them were tax issues. It looked hopeless as the amount was large and I had a high priced lawyer tell me I hardly stood a chance to get it resolved. Well, I gained the courage to pursue it on my own. I stated my case in total truth and I won! The entire debt was forgiven. And it was not a small amount of money. I am eternally grateful for this miracle. I have some other tax years to work on but I am going to go into it with the same confidence and determination.
Today, I am alcohol free and have been for some time. I don’t feel a need for it anymore. My relationships with my family and friends are better than ever. I have a good life and can now help others in similar circumstances – Vince encouraged me to do this and it has helped me. After a successful career, there came a time where I thought I was too mentally and emotionally ill to work. But Vince’s example and work ethic taught me otherwise. Today, I am self-employed which is something I thought I could never do. 
I can’t thank Vince enough for saving my life and giving me the tools and insight to regain control of my life. He helped me realize there is life after suffering. 

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