The last few weeks, aside from the drama, have been like a bad rerun of a poorly-written sitcom on loop. I get hungry less than usual, find myself appalled by food choices that used to be more than adequate for my usually-not-picky taste buds, and, when I finally do find food I can stomach, eating half my normal portion is nothing short of an accomplishment. Sleep is difficult to find at night, but my tired self drags through the following day at half-speed, assuming I managed to get sleep at all. Now, this ridiculous numbness is nagging at me- no true interest, pleasure or joy at anything. Sex drive is in the negative, and everyone is either irritating or merely peripheral- EVERYONE. And it's all at once, not little bits or types of people. Either I'm numb or irate, hungry or tired, but never seeming to be able to capture any level of satisfaction. Going to (hopefully) get hair & eyebrows done tomorrow, hoping that a reminder of gender might wake up anything even mildly happy inside me.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Family?
I must be sounding like a broken record lately- a very self-depreciating, depressed, angry record.
What is with that?
I finally poured everything out to my father that I've been so upset about, particularly his guilt-tripping. His response was to ask me if it would help me if he moved away.... *sigh* I don't want to lose any more family, but, seriously, I'm not ready to be the mother of a 58 year old man. I just want him to stop feeling sorry for himself all the time and take some action.
Of all the madness and pain yesterday, one of the (positive) highlights was being able to talk to Mr Nice Guy a little more in depth about the idea of marriage... We've talked about it before, of course, but we both really are sure that marriage is what we want. I'm not going to pretend our relationship is perfect- there's no such thing- but the struggles we have are ones we can manage. We both are very goal-oriented and, unfortunately, neither of us feels right putting ourselves first. Work, family, errands, bills, everything- we've been putting everything before ourselves and our relationship lately. We get so caught up in completing the million and sixty three things we have on our to-do lists that we don't really spend any fun time together. We don't go out- and now, with my anxiety getting so bad, it seems unlikely we'll be doing a lot of that for a while- and we have only hung out with one other couple (once) here in town in the five months (as of Thanksgiving) that we've been together.
We both see this, and we are both actively trying to change those habits. He has asked a few questions about engagement rings and proposals, though refuses to discuss specifics with me. I'm sure it's a bit premature, but I've started looking at ideas and quasi-planning our wedding.... Silly, right? I couldn't be more grateful to have found this man, and am very proud of my relationship, and, well, it might be silly, but this makes me happy.
What is with that?
I finally poured everything out to my father that I've been so upset about, particularly his guilt-tripping. His response was to ask me if it would help me if he moved away.... *sigh* I don't want to lose any more family, but, seriously, I'm not ready to be the mother of a 58 year old man. I just want him to stop feeling sorry for himself all the time and take some action.
Of all the madness and pain yesterday, one of the (positive) highlights was being able to talk to Mr Nice Guy a little more in depth about the idea of marriage... We've talked about it before, of course, but we both really are sure that marriage is what we want. I'm not going to pretend our relationship is perfect- there's no such thing- but the struggles we have are ones we can manage. We both are very goal-oriented and, unfortunately, neither of us feels right putting ourselves first. Work, family, errands, bills, everything- we've been putting everything before ourselves and our relationship lately. We get so caught up in completing the million and sixty three things we have on our to-do lists that we don't really spend any fun time together. We don't go out- and now, with my anxiety getting so bad, it seems unlikely we'll be doing a lot of that for a while- and we have only hung out with one other couple (once) here in town in the five months (as of Thanksgiving) that we've been together.
We both see this, and we are both actively trying to change those habits. He has asked a few questions about engagement rings and proposals, though refuses to discuss specifics with me. I'm sure it's a bit premature, but I've started looking at ideas and quasi-planning our wedding.... Silly, right? I couldn't be more grateful to have found this man, and am very proud of my relationship, and, well, it might be silly, but this makes me happy.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
My Final Email
The BS about the house is done- my boyfriend is taking a squad of guys over to put everything we own in garbage bags and into a storage facility until we can sort through it all. The roommate announced today he will be changing the locks Saturday, despite the fact we paid rent this month. He says that rent was for last month.... Don't even get me started on that.
My father informed me the other night that I hurt the feelings of the man that made me feel unsafe in my own "home"- the man who yelled and threatened me in a drunken rage hardly over a week ago. I spent three hours drowning in an anxiety attack that night.
....but I hurt his feelings?!
Apparently, my email in response to his "I'm sorry, but YOU..." "apology" was hurtful and unnecessary.
My father took the side of this man... and stood by watching all of this....
He tells me he's only being nice to keep himself in a place to live, but I gave him leads to other places more than six months ago, and originally found this place for him over a YEAR ago... He tells me he hates living there because of this guy, but sides with him against his daughter- the one who sent him $500 a month for the majority of my two year tour in Korea.....
How am I supposed to handle this?
I've already lost my mother, and I've tried to ignore and/or brush off the "I'm so broke" guilt trips from the man who clears at least what I do every month, and now this.... I really thought I'd been a good daughter. He said I had. If I didn't do anything wrong, though, if I was a good daughter, why am I constantly being guilted about money I can't afford to give him? And why would he take the side of this man against me? I can't do anything else to help him, especially now. I am going to outpatient therapy every weekday. I am so broken emotionally it's incredible... How am I expected to find this man yet another place to live, help him with his bills and his depression right now?
I am so grateful for Mr Nice Guy in all of this... He tries to get me to get past the guilt, but I still haven't been able to, not about anything that's happened. He's been my protector, lover and best friend through all of this. He is the man I've waited for my entire life, and I intend to marry him... I just don't know if I'll have any family left speaking to me by the time I do.
In any case, I said all that to post this, the horrific email (possible triggers/PTSD):
I'm not going to argue point by point so you can just argue some more. All I'm going to say is that I should NEVER EVER feel threatened or unsafe in my own house, and I REFUSE to pay rent to someone who made me feel that way. I spent three hours having an anxiety attack because you decided to come home drunk and angry and threaten to throw me, my boyfriend and my dog out of the house- AGAIN! I forgave you the last two times, Craig. I've forgiven you too much. I don't pretend to understand what you have against me or women or whoever the F you're so angry at, but I have survived two rapes, six years of abuse at the hands of my own mother and three abusive relationships. I am in outpatient therapy at the behavioral health clinic because of the PTSD I fight every single day because of loud, aggressive, abusive people and if there's anything I have learned from the abuse I've taken in the past, it's that I do not have to stay in a situation where I feel threatened. You can't make your actions go away with a half-assed apology that BLAMES ME for YOUR BEHAVIOR. I'm sure you don't want my advice by this point, but I highly recommend you get sober and seek therapy for whatever you've been through that makes you feel like you can treat other human beings- especially women- this way. I wish I'd understood what struck me so wrong about you when I refused your advances so many months ago, because I never would have moved in. Matt and I will be out before the end of the month, and Sugar will be away from you much sooner.
My father informed me the other night that I hurt the feelings of the man that made me feel unsafe in my own "home"- the man who yelled and threatened me in a drunken rage hardly over a week ago. I spent three hours drowning in an anxiety attack that night.
....but I hurt his feelings?!
Apparently, my email in response to his "I'm sorry, but YOU..." "apology" was hurtful and unnecessary.
My father took the side of this man... and stood by watching all of this....
He tells me he's only being nice to keep himself in a place to live, but I gave him leads to other places more than six months ago, and originally found this place for him over a YEAR ago... He tells me he hates living there because of this guy, but sides with him against his daughter- the one who sent him $500 a month for the majority of my two year tour in Korea.....
How am I supposed to handle this?
I've already lost my mother, and I've tried to ignore and/or brush off the "I'm so broke" guilt trips from the man who clears at least what I do every month, and now this.... I really thought I'd been a good daughter. He said I had. If I didn't do anything wrong, though, if I was a good daughter, why am I constantly being guilted about money I can't afford to give him? And why would he take the side of this man against me? I can't do anything else to help him, especially now. I am going to outpatient therapy every weekday. I am so broken emotionally it's incredible... How am I expected to find this man yet another place to live, help him with his bills and his depression right now?
I am so grateful for Mr Nice Guy in all of this... He tries to get me to get past the guilt, but I still haven't been able to, not about anything that's happened. He's been my protector, lover and best friend through all of this. He is the man I've waited for my entire life, and I intend to marry him... I just don't know if I'll have any family left speaking to me by the time I do.
In any case, I said all that to post this, the horrific email (possible triggers/PTSD):
I'm not going to argue point by point so you can just argue some more. All I'm going to say is that I should NEVER EVER feel threatened or unsafe in my own house, and I REFUSE to pay rent to someone who made me feel that way. I spent three hours having an anxiety attack because you decided to come home drunk and angry and threaten to throw me, my boyfriend and my dog out of the house- AGAIN! I forgave you the last two times, Craig. I've forgiven you too much. I don't pretend to understand what you have against me or women or whoever the F you're so angry at, but I have survived two rapes, six years of abuse at the hands of my own mother and three abusive relationships. I am in outpatient therapy at the behavioral health clinic because of the PTSD I fight every single day because of loud, aggressive, abusive people and if there's anything I have learned from the abuse I've taken in the past, it's that I do not have to stay in a situation where I feel threatened. You can't make your actions go away with a half-assed apology that BLAMES ME for YOUR BEHAVIOR. I'm sure you don't want my advice by this point, but I highly recommend you get sober and seek therapy for whatever you've been through that makes you feel like you can treat other human beings- especially women- this way. I wish I'd understood what struck me so wrong about you when I refused your advances so many months ago, because I never would have moved in. Matt and I will be out before the end of the month, and Sugar will be away from you much sooner.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Buried Alive
I've been writing more specifically about my PTSD and recovery over here at Phoenix Fly Right for those who are interested. I'm hoping that blog might be able to help other folks going through similar situations.
Today was my second full day in outpatient therapy... And it's scary and painful and uncomfortable and sometimes so horrible and frightening I want to leave. It's not like I pour my soul out in front of all these people- we all actually don't talk about our individual stuff as much as you might expect- but it's like every emotion is starting to slowly ooze out, but this time I am looking at that wound under a microscope, as I watch all this stuff that's supposed to be inside me come seeping out. I have to face every little detail of every last bit. It's so scary.
Today, we moved rooms several times, and it made me so uncomfortable and so anxious... This place doesn't feel like home or even like I'm any safer than usual, really. It just feels like exactly what it is: this place where I go every day, that's not quite as miserable or cold as work, but it's not quite a place where I want to pour out my soul to all these strangers around me, either. I haven't mentioned rape once in the three days- well, two and a half- that I've been there. I'm scared to tell these military boys that I've survived two rapes. Rape in the Army is a word women use to get someone in trouble. That's the prevailing attitude towards it. I don't know how to talk to these people about what I think about or feel. It's so hard for me to even give them basic parts of my day to day experience. I try so hard, though. I just want to get better. I want to not feel guilty anymore- not about the rapes, about my miscarriage, about Danger dying, about all of these things piled up inside me.
How do you just let that kind of stuff go?
I found out today that the tubal ligation (read: surgery to get my tubes tied) that I underwent at eighteen years old due to some heavy influencing on my mother's part could very likely be reversible, and without any far-reaching crazy experimental surgeries even. I talked to the nurse at the clinic today, and she was very upset when I told her how hard a time I'd gotten when I saw a military doctor about it. He'd wanted me to undergo all these extensive tests and, even if he liked the results of those, he wouldn't even do an exploratory surgery without the records of the surgery. The hospital told me they don't have the records anymore. I gave up. I didn't have the energy to try to get another referral to see another military doctor, especially believing that this was standard. The nurse told me today that he was very wrong for this, and that all they need is 8 mm of undamaged tube to reconnect it. When I mentioned this all to my dad, he said something I didn't know: he had seen pictures of it all post-op, and the surgeon left as much as possible intact for this very reason. He said there was far more than enough for them to reconnect it.
So, I am going to follow the nurse's advice and try to get a referral to a non-military OB-GYN and proceed to get the exploratory surgery and, with any luck, a full reversal of my ligation done. There is hope that the last shred of physical evidence of my mother's abuse might be healed, finally. I might be able to have a child without in vitro fertilization or other fertility treatments... I might be able to have my own baby, without a petri dish being involved in the process....
It really feels like a miracle.
Mr Nice Guy is thrilled at this prospect, and actually quite angry at the doctor who blew me off. We've talked about children- him more than you might assume- and it's very exciting to both of us to have this chance. I might have a real family, the way most people do... It might not be impossible...
Today was my second full day in outpatient therapy... And it's scary and painful and uncomfortable and sometimes so horrible and frightening I want to leave. It's not like I pour my soul out in front of all these people- we all actually don't talk about our individual stuff as much as you might expect- but it's like every emotion is starting to slowly ooze out, but this time I am looking at that wound under a microscope, as I watch all this stuff that's supposed to be inside me come seeping out. I have to face every little detail of every last bit. It's so scary.
Today, we moved rooms several times, and it made me so uncomfortable and so anxious... This place doesn't feel like home or even like I'm any safer than usual, really. It just feels like exactly what it is: this place where I go every day, that's not quite as miserable or cold as work, but it's not quite a place where I want to pour out my soul to all these strangers around me, either. I haven't mentioned rape once in the three days- well, two and a half- that I've been there. I'm scared to tell these military boys that I've survived two rapes. Rape in the Army is a word women use to get someone in trouble. That's the prevailing attitude towards it. I don't know how to talk to these people about what I think about or feel. It's so hard for me to even give them basic parts of my day to day experience. I try so hard, though. I just want to get better. I want to not feel guilty anymore- not about the rapes, about my miscarriage, about Danger dying, about all of these things piled up inside me.
How do you just let that kind of stuff go?
I found out today that the tubal ligation (read: surgery to get my tubes tied) that I underwent at eighteen years old due to some heavy influencing on my mother's part could very likely be reversible, and without any far-reaching crazy experimental surgeries even. I talked to the nurse at the clinic today, and she was very upset when I told her how hard a time I'd gotten when I saw a military doctor about it. He'd wanted me to undergo all these extensive tests and, even if he liked the results of those, he wouldn't even do an exploratory surgery without the records of the surgery. The hospital told me they don't have the records anymore. I gave up. I didn't have the energy to try to get another referral to see another military doctor, especially believing that this was standard. The nurse told me today that he was very wrong for this, and that all they need is 8 mm of undamaged tube to reconnect it. When I mentioned this all to my dad, he said something I didn't know: he had seen pictures of it all post-op, and the surgeon left as much as possible intact for this very reason. He said there was far more than enough for them to reconnect it.
So, I am going to follow the nurse's advice and try to get a referral to a non-military OB-GYN and proceed to get the exploratory surgery and, with any luck, a full reversal of my ligation done. There is hope that the last shred of physical evidence of my mother's abuse might be healed, finally. I might be able to have a child without in vitro fertilization or other fertility treatments... I might be able to have my own baby, without a petri dish being involved in the process....
It really feels like a miracle.
Mr Nice Guy is thrilled at this prospect, and actually quite angry at the doctor who blew me off. We've talked about children- him more than you might assume- and it's very exciting to both of us to have this chance. I might have a real family, the way most people do... It might not be impossible...
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Ella Phant
I woke up with an elephant sized ball of anxiety in my chest.
I'm such a mess today, and it keeps getting worse.
It's not even ten yet and I've already cried twice.
This isn't who I want to be, or where I want to be.
I nearly ran someone over last night, when I went to pick Mr Nice Guy up from work. I was driving down a road that wasn't blocked off, but was full of runners. I slowed down to a crawl (10 mph in a 25 or 30 zone) and I had my driver's side window open, like I usually do. Some guy in Pt's ran up to my window, close enough his head was nearly in my window, and screamed at me to slow the H down... It startled and scared me so badly, the one hand I had on the wheel nearly jerked in his direction. I haven't completely come down from that since. Mr Nice Guy bought me Chinese food and spoiled me rotten last night, putting up with me watching my favorite show for several hours, and not complaining in the least. It felt good, but I didn't like that he keeps having to take care of me. This morning, I pushed him away when he tried to get too close- my anxiety just keeps going up, and I pushed him away because I'm so scared and so on edge today. I'm a wreck. It makes it so much worse that I really feel like I've hurt him, that I'm not taking care of him and that my entire relationship with him has been put on his shoulders. I'm falling apart at the seams today, and can't seem to get it together. I don't want this mess to be me. I look like I've aged a decade in the last six months.
I'll be twenty six in January. I already feel like I'm in my forties, I'm just so tired.
I'm such a mess today, and it keeps getting worse.
It's not even ten yet and I've already cried twice.
This isn't who I want to be, or where I want to be.
I nearly ran someone over last night, when I went to pick Mr Nice Guy up from work. I was driving down a road that wasn't blocked off, but was full of runners. I slowed down to a crawl (10 mph in a 25 or 30 zone) and I had my driver's side window open, like I usually do. Some guy in Pt's ran up to my window, close enough his head was nearly in my window, and screamed at me to slow the H down... It startled and scared me so badly, the one hand I had on the wheel nearly jerked in his direction. I haven't completely come down from that since. Mr Nice Guy bought me Chinese food and spoiled me rotten last night, putting up with me watching my favorite show for several hours, and not complaining in the least. It felt good, but I didn't like that he keeps having to take care of me. This morning, I pushed him away when he tried to get too close- my anxiety just keeps going up, and I pushed him away because I'm so scared and so on edge today. I'm a wreck. It makes it so much worse that I really feel like I've hurt him, that I'm not taking care of him and that my entire relationship with him has been put on his shoulders. I'm falling apart at the seams today, and can't seem to get it together. I don't want this mess to be me. I look like I've aged a decade in the last six months.
I'll be twenty six in January. I already feel like I'm in my forties, I'm just so tired.
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