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    Inner Peace is WORLD PEACE
    Inner Peace is WORLD PEACE
    Inner Peace is WORLD PEACE
    Ebook76 pages1 hour

    Inner Peace is WORLD PEACE

    By Eve Butterfly

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    About this ebook

    Mental illness can start in many ways. It can become uncontrollable without medication. This is a story of the author’s first-hand experience with mental illness and struggles throughout her life. Mental illness can be treatable, and the patient can live a normal life. This is how the author turned her own inner peace into her portion of world peace. Find your inner peace.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCovenant Books, Inc.
    Release dateJun 4, 2021
    ISBN9781636309583
    Inner Peace is WORLD PEACE

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      Book preview

      Inner Peace is WORLD PEACE - Eve Butterfly

      My Life

      These are just some of the accounts in my life that led to mental health issues. I have many more accounts but can’t recall them. A person’s brain will hide or compartmentalize things that happened if it perceives it as bad or harmful. This book describes the things I do recall and ways I have learned to deal, or compensate, with mental health issues.

      I remember when I was two years old and my two older sisters and I were playing in a cow trough. The trough was empty except for a wasp nest. After we noticed the nest, we saw the cows walking toward us. I was afraid they would eat us. We eventually got out after one of my sisters ran to the house to get our mom to save us.

      I remember when we moved from this house, and my aunt and four cousins helped us move. On one of the trips, I was left behind. There were seven kids and two adults, so it was easy to get lost in the crowd. I saw them leaving through the window. I crawled into the back of a closet and cried myself to sleep. I was almost three at that time. They came back and looked for me for a long time because I was hidden well. I didn’t realize it then, but in my adult life, this was why I had to depend only on myself so I never felt abandoned again.

      I was baptized in a Catholic church as a baby. I would go to church with my two older sisters and my mom. I was eight when I took communion. Later in life, I was baptized Christian at a local church that has helped me through tough times.

      I was the middle child and the one who always tried to make people laugh during tense moments. I also felt obligated to do things like laundry and dishes because my parents provided a roof over our heads.

      When I was in the second grade, one of my sisters and I had a fight. I don’t remember what it was about, but she threw a mirror at me and it shattered. I had to have my hand bandaged because it was gushing blood, and I had to go to school. It was difficult to write with my left hand, as I was right hand dominant. I still have the scar.

      I have lots of memories of the two houses near Bengal, Indiana. I attended Southwestern Elementary and Southwestern High School. I loved the choir and show group, which was a singing and dancing group. I tried out for cheerleading in the eighth grade and made the freshman squad. I didn’t like it as much as I thought I would. I preferred singing. It was a small school, and I graduated with only forty-two classmates.

      I was born with a birthmark on my left wrist. When I was a teenager, my parents had it removed because they thought it was cancerous. It was in the shape of a butterfly, was black, and raised on my skin. I believe my spirit animal is the butterfly because of this and the transformations I have had in my life.

      I was sixteen when a man stopped by to ask my parents if they thought I would mow grass with him. He saw me on the mower cutting my parents’ grass. They said I should take the job because it was summertime. The job was from six a.m. to almost six p.m. most days. He lived in Bengal, Indiana, with his wife. We would go to his house to eat lunch. I recall the last time I worked for him. He told me the house we were mowing was a blind man’s, and he was in the hospital. This meant we were there alone. He asked me to drive the riding mower, and he stood behind me on the mower. He massaged my shoulders, which I found inappropriate. We took a break to eat lunch, and we sat in the cab of his truck.

      It felt like a dream as it happened. He started fondling my breasts, and I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea where I was, and I couldn’t get help because the owner wasn’t home. This was before cell phones. I just sat there, dumbfounded. When the day was over, I told the old man I would never work for him again because of what he did. The next day he stopped by to tell me he was sorry. I think he was afraid I would tell on him. He tried to hand me a wad of money to shut me up. I threw it at him, told him off, and ran to the house. I told my boyfriend, and he wanted to tell his dad, who was a policeman, but I said I didn’t want anyone else to know. This set my precedence of how I viewed men for the rest of my life. I started seeing a therapist at the age of sixteen.

      I lost my virginity at sixteen. We dated for a few

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