Okay, not really. There is no fun to be had when recovering from a relationship like the one I left. Let me tell you what has happened this week.
Years ago I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder related to the abuse in my marriage. At that point, I suffered severe anxiety attacks, flashbacks, all kinds of yuck. To be honest, I never once considered that what I was dealing with was that severe. That is the weird thing that happens. When I was in it, experiencing it, the mental and emotional and verbal abuse have already taken their toll and I truly did not realize the severity of the abuse, in any of its forms. (I am now learning that this is common amongst other women in this situation as well) I found myself blaming myself (as he would blame me) for not having a better attitude, not being more submissive, more agreeable, more loving, a better housekeeper, ... you name it, I thought it. And each time that there was a really bad episode, I would rationalize it away in that manner, thereby avoiding facing the reality of what was happening. Anyway, over the years, medicine and therapy and Jesus helped me deal with the anxiety, the more distance I got from the episodes of violence, the less the flashbacks happened. A flashback is when you go back to that moment, and you are reliving it like it was happening to you all over again. You can see everything that happened, everything around you, as if it were happening right that second.
Over the years, as I stated, I have gotten a lot better. I still see that there are some things that will affect me. I am still hyper aware of my surroundings, and very tuned in to the moods, actions and reactions of people I am with. I notice every narrowing of the eye, almost imperceptible movement of the body, sighs, anything that could possibly indicate a change in mood or level of contentment that I would need to be aware of. I also have a real problem not freaking out beyond belief if someone walks up behind me and catches me off guard. My kids try their hardest to sneak up on me, they try so hard to scare me... what they don't realize is why it is almost impossible to scare me. It is because over the years I became conditioned to notice every detail, to anticipate any possible change that could warn me of something bad happening. Anyway, these are the little things I still notice that have an affect on me, even now.
Today I learned that there is something else I have experienced. I had my weekly therapy appointment. I was discussing something that happened this week that had affected me a great deal. Apparently I do not have quite the poker face I thought I did, because sometimes my therapist will say "What did you just feel?" Well, the answer to the question today was "FEAR." I don't mean the kind of fear that is a passing thought, or an anticipation of something bad. I mean the fear that makes your heart race, your body flush, and complete and utter breathlessness take over. As I talked about that, I told her that last week I had picked up a novel, it was supposed to be light reading for me, just to take my mind off all the other heavier books I have been working on as part of my recovery. There was absolutely nothing in the foreword, the jacket cover, any place to let me know that this book would in any way address domestic violence. BUT, it did. Boy howdy, did it ever. As I was reading, I was very interested, but I could feel my stress level rising just a bit. However, I thought, I can read this... it is okay. Then, as I got to one scene, it described so accurately not just the way an episode of physical violence might happen... but, they described the thoughts that went through the victim's head at that moment. As I was reading, I was transported back to that place. I felt those same feelings, I remembered having almost identical thoughts. As I was reading, I ended up having an anxiety attack. I have not had one of those in several months. I had to put the book down, get dressed and leave the house, take a break and the next day was able to come back and resume reading the book. Turns out, what I had was a "trigger." Not the same as a flashback. Instead of the added dimension of actually reliving the whole abuse episode, a trigger just takes you back to the feelings, emotions, fear of that moment.
So, why am I telling you all this? Because, it happens. This is part of my recovery. I am learning to identify what is happening. It is a normal part of the healing process. It does not mean that I am losing my mind, that I am stuck in the past, that I am unwilling to forgive. It means that my body, my brain, my soul suffered a great deal of trauma. The healing of that trauma is going to take time, and there is going to be a process. I can't minimize what happened to me, I can't downplay what I felt. I don't have to get stuck there. Thank God. I can move on, I can take each memory, and one by one, submit them to my Savior, ask Him to help me move past that memory. It will not erase the memory, but, in time, it will lessen the pain and the impact.
One day, I am going to be completely whole in mind, body and spirit. I am going to be able to remember the episodes but, I will not be affected by them in they way that I am right now.
I will tell you a secret, one day, I really hope that my husband (you know, the wonderful man that is going to come along some day) can walk up behind me, and I will never hear him, because I will be lost in my own little world... and when he puts his arms around me, instead of panicking... I will simply relax in his arms. I will smile and know that I can trust him, that he would never mean to harm me. One day, God is going to give me that kind of healing. AND THAT WILL BE AMAZING.
No comments:
Post a Comment