+ I’m honestly too upset to know if there needs to be a trigger warning on this, sorry…..
I have been deep in the trenches for the last few months. I’ve known this. I am aware of exactly where I am. I’ve been in therapy to address emotions that have been stuffed down way too long. At a few points during this last few months I have wished I never said a word to a soul. I wish I had just continued the facade I had mastered my entire life. It felt safer there. Here it feels vulnerable. In that vulnerability I have felt deeper in a darkness than I have in a very long time. I’ve tried to pinpoint; Is it the loss of my family, the loss of my dog, the isolation, the loneliness? All of those things have contributed to my struggle with ongoing grief. But those are not the reason I am writing now.
In the last few days the root of my issue has come to the surface and I have no idea what to do with it. This event left me feeling as if I have not moved forward an inch. It makes me feel as if the coping skills I have learned are all in vain. I feel as weak as I felt as a child. It reminded me of how deep all of this runs and I don’t honestly know if I want to, at this point even continue with therapy. Like I said, I was deep in the trenches with the full realization of the impact abuse has played into my life with PTSD, anxiety, nightmares, etc. Having to deal with how others in my life can or cannot fully understand these depths have left me feeling even lower than before. This incident 2 nights ago was really the tipping point. I feel like I’ve been left on the floor and no one to pick me up.
I had a best friend in highschool. I adored him. Thought of him as a brother, best friend, someone I loved. He was always there for me. I watched all of his sports, he spent every afternoon at my house until midnight hours. I haven’t heard from him in at least 10 years. He called me out of the blue late wednesday night. I was thrilled to speak to my old friend. I assumed he wanted to reconnect, to get updates on my life. My muscle disease, my daughter’s illness, maybe even my blog and book, and perhaps what happened with my family since he was so wrapped up in my entire family as a kid. That wasn’t why he called. I didn’t know this at first. He didn’t care about anything I had to say. He didn’t call to listen to anything about me. He called to question me. And he rapid fire questioned me. And I became small. Small like I know how to be. Small like I have been my entire life. He wanted to know why I didn’t date him. He said he was disappointed in my choices in life after I was in the mental hospital(the men I chose). I tried to explain abuse was all I knew and I chose abusive me, it’s what we do. He didnt want to listen. He wanted to tell me how he visited me in the hospital, I don’t even recall this, which I told him. He wanted to know if I remembered our conversation before I was put in the hospital, I didn’t. I don’t remember much from back then. Apparently, he does. He wanted, demanded, answers. Why didn’t I love him. Why didn’t I choose him. He wanted to know details of the abuse I endured. When I said no he demanded it. He demanded everything. He was very aggressive. He brought up painful times but made them ALL about him. Just like my own family. It was a reminder of how what happened to me didn’t really. What mattered was what I couldnt not provide for someone else. After I hung up with him I could not breathe. But I immediately thought I over reacted. He wanted a link to my book and blog and I emailed them to him. Then I regretted it. He may be reading this right now. But I don’t care. My blog is for other abuse victims not for abusers. The next morning I woke up and there was already a message from him. There was a text. I felt wounded. I still feel wounded. He wanted to know why I didn’t love him at 15. I told him that at that current time I was being molested!!!!!!! My words didn’t matter. So I go through therapy. Use words. I tried to use them. But then I shut down. All of my soldiers that were supposed to help me dropped their weapons and left me alone. All of the bears and animals that I was supposed to imagine standing behind me turned to dust. I was just the same weak and broken Bethany that I always was.
Today I got angry. I texted back that he was to not contact me again by text or phone. I have not heard back….yet….but he is not the point. The point is, it only took one person from my past, one man, to shut me down. He brought up very personal, inappropriate things. I said nothing. If ever I felt that I would never recover, I would never move forward, I will never be ok, it is right now at this moment.
I was in the trenches before. Now someone dumped mud on top of me and I may be drowning.
My husband bought me this for Christmas. I wore it to the mall yesterday. I hadn’t been to the mall in 2 years. I kept saying over and over again “You are a warrior, you are a warrior.” I guess my husband feels I am or he wouldnt have bought me the shirt. No matter how many times I said it, I felt the only words on that shirt that would have been relevant would have been failure.