It's been several months since I've posted, and it's kind of weird to think about that. Nothing has really been going on though.
Work is work. I battle apathy and terror. Depression and mediocre days war for my attention. My nightmares come back but they're different and beginning to fade. Though I wake up angry many days. My counselor has been on maternity leave since Thanksgiving-ish. I'm still single. YoungLife has become a distant memory and a struggle and a point of hurt, all at the same time. Friends seem to be a thing of the past for me.
I'm anxious in this period of waiting. I'm antsy. I feel something coming, but I don't know what it is.
Still, through all of these things, I hope there is something good coming. The past few months I went from things scheduled every day, being busy with YoungLife, work, counseling, piano lessons, and various other activities down to nothing but work. Spread out days of work, no less. I was supposed to go to a weekend getaway with some friends but they cancelled. I was supposed to go on a leader's retreat for YoungLife, but I couldn't convince myself to go, and then there was a funeral that ended up happening the day we were supposed to leave. I'm not sad I didn't go to that, because I just didn't want to. I don't want to force relationships with people who keep hurting me but that is stupid because then I'm all alone in the world.
Friends have been incredibly flakey lately, not even answering my texts. Canceling plans. Otherwise seeming to ignore me unless they need something. I don't know how I get here over and over again. Friends that say "we should hang out again!" "I'm so glad we met because we just get each other!" and other things, but then they don't answer texts and I don't see them. Maybe it's my phone that doesn't work? Maybe I'm the annoying friend that people try to avoid and only hang out with once in awhile because I'm so exhausting. Maybe I'm boring or have nothing to add to the conversation. Maybe I don't understand how the world works so it seems pointless to try to talk to me because it doesn't get them anywhere.
I'm a quarter of a century old and I'm utterly alone in the world. I don't understand. It's not for lack of trying. I joined YoungLife in hopes that I could make friends with leaders and make a difference in the lives of high school kids where I didn't have any help at that time. My teens answer half a conversation and then leave me on read before we make any plans. I pick up extra hours at work, try to arrange my schedule to be able to hang out with others but they cancel last minute and refuse to help me when I ask for a returned favor. My brother can't be bothered to answer my messages. My parents answer, but sometimes not for several days.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND ANY OF IT!!!
We're after the holidays, people should be slowing down and getting back into their routines. Surely somebody somewhere needs some company for something.
I'm too old to be upset and literally crying about these things. Yet, I found myself on the phone crying to my mom several times in the past couple of weeks.
Maybe I need to go back to counseling.
Showing posts with label counseling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label counseling. Show all posts
Sunday, January 27, 2019
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Down the Tunnel It Goes
I had my first session of EMDR this last week. It has helped tremendously, so far! I have not yet had to terrible of nightmares and I've been able to remain in the moment better than I had been in the past couple of weeks. I'm really hoping that this continues to be a good form of therapy for me.
Just in case you guys are at all curious about it, I wanted to share a little bit about what my experience was like.
So first thing that happened when I went in was that the therapist asks what I want to work on. I went in with a very specific plan to work on exbest friend's stuff because it has been causing me a great deal of distress for a long time now.
She gave me the little buzzing paddles and asked me to pick the intensity and speed that I wanted to use for the memory. I set it accordingly and she had me describe the memory. She says I can tell her as little or as much as I want. She kept asking questions, as counselors/therapists do, but I didn't go into as much detail as I had to using exposure therapy (you have to use as much detail as possible).
We started with e getting comfortable and holding the paddles. We started with letting my mind go to the memory. She checked in with me to have me describe what I was feeling and going through. We went another cycle and the memory and feelings got more intense. She checked in again. This cycle lasted several times, then she had me sit with the memory and the physical feelings and the thoughts that came up. After a few cycles of that (memory + buzzing, then a check-in), the memory started to reveal several things to me.
Personally, this process brought up the ways I tried to fight and then showed me the 7+ ways I was triggered that reverted my brain into trauma mode and sent it back to it's original conditioning. While this likely does not make much sense without going through the process, it was incredibly freeing to be able to go back into a memory that my brain was constantly reliving for months and to be able to process it with such clarity.
Then, as I started to process the triggers, and what I had done to prevent the cursed even from occurring in the first place, the oddest thing happened in my brain and I saw it as clear as a movie: the memory faded and started going down a tunnel. It was partially filed in said tunnel, but not like my normal filing where I put it away to try to process it later with my counselor. No, this time it was filed as something I had survived and what I had done right and why I couldn't stop it.
Now, this memory is much less disturbing and my brain has released it from continually coming up and causing nightmares, flashbacks, and the subsequent dissociation/depression. I've been able to wake up without sleeping 14+ hours, be on time, get ready without losing track of time, and I've been engaged and happy instead of a constant flat affect and no energy. All of these things are my signs of dissociation and depression.
I'm not saying that this process was not difficult. I cried. I cried like big, burning tears from a place of deep hurt and betrayal. However, it was far less distressing than continually having your brain try to process a memory and failing because you are stuck between short and long term memory, and you can't find the reason/logic/emotion between anything. My brain was ridiculously overwhelmed and this allowed me to process it effectively.
Guys, I'm very grateful for my counselor recommending this type of therapy. I had come a long way in counseling, but there are things that set us back on our road to recovery. Sometimes these roadblocks refuse to move and our brains cannot go "there" to knock the block down because it is too distressing. At this point in my recovery, I was able to go through the EMDR process and receive relief and help. When the counselor at my college (who was 1] untrained in trauma help and 2] unpracticed in EMDR) tried to use this therapy, I was too far in the trauma brain and had not processed anything at all. By starting in therapy/counseling first, getting to a place of healing, then trying this intensive therapy, I was able to finally have coping skills in place and be able to understand my recovery process much better.
I'll keep you guys posted on if it continues to be helpful or if I start getting some of the terrible side effects. So far, however, I'm hanging in there.
Just in case you guys are at all curious about it, I wanted to share a little bit about what my experience was like.
So first thing that happened when I went in was that the therapist asks what I want to work on. I went in with a very specific plan to work on exbest friend's stuff because it has been causing me a great deal of distress for a long time now.
She gave me the little buzzing paddles and asked me to pick the intensity and speed that I wanted to use for the memory. I set it accordingly and she had me describe the memory. She says I can tell her as little or as much as I want. She kept asking questions, as counselors/therapists do, but I didn't go into as much detail as I had to using exposure therapy (you have to use as much detail as possible).
We started with e getting comfortable and holding the paddles. We started with letting my mind go to the memory. She checked in with me to have me describe what I was feeling and going through. We went another cycle and the memory and feelings got more intense. She checked in again. This cycle lasted several times, then she had me sit with the memory and the physical feelings and the thoughts that came up. After a few cycles of that (memory + buzzing, then a check-in), the memory started to reveal several things to me.
Personally, this process brought up the ways I tried to fight and then showed me the 7+ ways I was triggered that reverted my brain into trauma mode and sent it back to it's original conditioning. While this likely does not make much sense without going through the process, it was incredibly freeing to be able to go back into a memory that my brain was constantly reliving for months and to be able to process it with such clarity.
Then, as I started to process the triggers, and what I had done to prevent the cursed even from occurring in the first place, the oddest thing happened in my brain and I saw it as clear as a movie: the memory faded and started going down a tunnel. It was partially filed in said tunnel, but not like my normal filing where I put it away to try to process it later with my counselor. No, this time it was filed as something I had survived and what I had done right and why I couldn't stop it.
Now, this memory is much less disturbing and my brain has released it from continually coming up and causing nightmares, flashbacks, and the subsequent dissociation/depression. I've been able to wake up without sleeping 14+ hours, be on time, get ready without losing track of time, and I've been engaged and happy instead of a constant flat affect and no energy. All of these things are my signs of dissociation and depression.
I'm not saying that this process was not difficult. I cried. I cried like big, burning tears from a place of deep hurt and betrayal. However, it was far less distressing than continually having your brain try to process a memory and failing because you are stuck between short and long term memory, and you can't find the reason/logic/emotion between anything. My brain was ridiculously overwhelmed and this allowed me to process it effectively.
Guys, I'm very grateful for my counselor recommending this type of therapy. I had come a long way in counseling, but there are things that set us back on our road to recovery. Sometimes these roadblocks refuse to move and our brains cannot go "there" to knock the block down because it is too distressing. At this point in my recovery, I was able to go through the EMDR process and receive relief and help. When the counselor at my college (who was 1] untrained in trauma help and 2] unpracticed in EMDR) tried to use this therapy, I was too far in the trauma brain and had not processed anything at all. By starting in therapy/counseling first, getting to a place of healing, then trying this intensive therapy, I was able to finally have coping skills in place and be able to understand my recovery process much better.
I'll keep you guys posted on if it continues to be helpful or if I start getting some of the terrible side effects. So far, however, I'm hanging in there.
Monday, June 25, 2018
EMDR
When I went through my first traumatic instance with ex-boyfriend, I went to my college and attempted to get counseling. The counselors there are not familiar with trauma, they counsel students more through depression, anxiety, problems with school, and other such "student" problems.
One of the counselors was trained in EMDR... I think... She told me she was not super familiar and that she would need to reference the manual frequently to help me through the process. We didn't talk about anything that would have normally been covered in counseling, we just jumped right in to EMDR processes. I couldn't even hold it together to find my safe place without crying hysterically. Okay, not hysterically, but I couldn't breathe enough to talk using more than 1 syllable words at a time.
Fast-forward to my last counseling session: It was my third week in a row where I cried and dissociated. So, at the end, she suggested I try EMDR because I have been shutting down a lot lately and after all of the progress I had made, I was starting to rapidly backslide to where I was on week 2 or 3.
So my homework for the week was to just think about calling someone about EMDR. Well, I went to work after that counseling session, Googled all about the EMDR process: what to expect, what it would be like, what the goal is, etc. I proceeded to email my sweet little counselor right away at like 0300 that I would give it a shot. She woke up, sent me a list of names, and I made an appointment when I woke up at 3 p.m.
I'm still really nervous for what I'm going to have to go through, what I'm going to uncover, and what I will have to re-live, but I'm hoping it goes well and helps me. I've heard that nightmares are common and that it is common to need to process what happened in the session for the remainder of the night or even for the next couple of days.
I had my first session yesterday and it went well. We did a "practice" round with a "lightly distressing" memory so I could see how the process worked. I chose traffic, and our practice session made me surprisingly less anxious about the prospect of sitting in traffic. Granted, it's not a traumatic memory, but I hope that it will work similarly for the bad stuff. I've heard from several people who have had parents or friends go through this process that it has helped them.
I'll keep y'all posted.
One of the counselors was trained in EMDR... I think... She told me she was not super familiar and that she would need to reference the manual frequently to help me through the process. We didn't talk about anything that would have normally been covered in counseling, we just jumped right in to EMDR processes. I couldn't even hold it together to find my safe place without crying hysterically. Okay, not hysterically, but I couldn't breathe enough to talk using more than 1 syllable words at a time.
Fast-forward to my last counseling session: It was my third week in a row where I cried and dissociated. So, at the end, she suggested I try EMDR because I have been shutting down a lot lately and after all of the progress I had made, I was starting to rapidly backslide to where I was on week 2 or 3.
So my homework for the week was to just think about calling someone about EMDR. Well, I went to work after that counseling session, Googled all about the EMDR process: what to expect, what it would be like, what the goal is, etc. I proceeded to email my sweet little counselor right away at like 0300 that I would give it a shot. She woke up, sent me a list of names, and I made an appointment when I woke up at 3 p.m.
I'm still really nervous for what I'm going to have to go through, what I'm going to uncover, and what I will have to re-live, but I'm hoping it goes well and helps me. I've heard that nightmares are common and that it is common to need to process what happened in the session for the remainder of the night or even for the next couple of days.
I had my first session yesterday and it went well. We did a "practice" round with a "lightly distressing" memory so I could see how the process worked. I chose traffic, and our practice session made me surprisingly less anxious about the prospect of sitting in traffic. Granted, it's not a traumatic memory, but I hope that it will work similarly for the bad stuff. I've heard from several people who have had parents or friends go through this process that it has helped them.
I'll keep y'all posted.
Friday, May 18, 2018
To Rest in the L-rd
Resting in the L-rd is such a personal thing. Nobody can tell you how to do it. It is necessary for growth, self-care, and improvement of oneself.
There are times in life where there is so much to do, that resting, let alone resting in the L-rd, gets shoved to the back burner. Then, there are times in life where that's all you have.
Personally, I feel I am in a season of rest. For a couple of months now, I have been trying to start a Bible study, attempting to volunteer, and find other ways to make myself busy. In the midst of it, I had a whisper that I'm supposed to just be. That I'm supposed to relax and take in a season of peace.
When I didn't know what that meant and continued to apply for other volunteer processes, G-d continued to suggest it to me in different ways. He kept my email inbox largely silent in regards to the Bible study and volunteer opportunities. He then allowed my mom to suggest that I need to enjoy a season of rest, and a couple of weeks later she reiterated it and told me she is taking a season of rest as well. Continue on to this week where I was lamenting my lack of social and volunteer opportunities to my counselor, and she reiterated the idea of a season of rest.
I don't know how to rest in the L-rd. I don't know what that looks like, probably because I never really have... minus maybe little retreats I've been on with my youth groups. I don't know how to be still and take in alone time with the Good L-rd. I get frustrated when I am told to sit and be quiet, feeling I have no purpose in the time I am still and waiting. I like having a mission, a purpose, a task to complete. A short time ago, G-d gave me instructions to share my story. I feel He proceeded to show me more ways that I could be of service to use my story to help others. I feel like He's given me a life mission, like He's given me a calling and a purpose and a goal to work towards.
Then, in the same breath, He tells me to wait and be still.
How do you do that?!? How do you get a picture of what you are supposed to do, and then get told to sit back and not do it. Don't work towards this picture you've been given. Don't start gathering research and don't start talking to people. Instead, just be. Just relax. Just breathe. Listen to the whisper that is so quiet I cannot hear it.
What am I supposed to do with that?
How does He expect me to get a mission, a battle plan, ideas of how to proceed, and then do nothing?
And how do I then get the mission to "rest in the L-rd" but do it without instructions as to how to rest in Him?
There are times in life where there is so much to do, that resting, let alone resting in the L-rd, gets shoved to the back burner. Then, there are times in life where that's all you have.
Personally, I feel I am in a season of rest. For a couple of months now, I have been trying to start a Bible study, attempting to volunteer, and find other ways to make myself busy. In the midst of it, I had a whisper that I'm supposed to just be. That I'm supposed to relax and take in a season of peace.
When I didn't know what that meant and continued to apply for other volunteer processes, G-d continued to suggest it to me in different ways. He kept my email inbox largely silent in regards to the Bible study and volunteer opportunities. He then allowed my mom to suggest that I need to enjoy a season of rest, and a couple of weeks later she reiterated it and told me she is taking a season of rest as well. Continue on to this week where I was lamenting my lack of social and volunteer opportunities to my counselor, and she reiterated the idea of a season of rest.
I don't know how to rest in the L-rd. I don't know what that looks like, probably because I never really have... minus maybe little retreats I've been on with my youth groups. I don't know how to be still and take in alone time with the Good L-rd. I get frustrated when I am told to sit and be quiet, feeling I have no purpose in the time I am still and waiting. I like having a mission, a purpose, a task to complete. A short time ago, G-d gave me instructions to share my story. I feel He proceeded to show me more ways that I could be of service to use my story to help others. I feel like He's given me a life mission, like He's given me a calling and a purpose and a goal to work towards.
Then, in the same breath, He tells me to wait and be still.
How do you do that?!? How do you get a picture of what you are supposed to do, and then get told to sit back and not do it. Don't work towards this picture you've been given. Don't start gathering research and don't start talking to people. Instead, just be. Just relax. Just breathe. Listen to the whisper that is so quiet I cannot hear it.
What am I supposed to do with that?
How does He expect me to get a mission, a battle plan, ideas of how to proceed, and then do nothing?
And how do I then get the mission to "rest in the L-rd" but do it without instructions as to how to rest in Him?
Friday, March 23, 2018
New Steps
Tonight I went to a friend's house. This sweet girl is a girl I work with. She is incredibly kind and friendly and everybody loves her.
I spent the night, just talking with her. Not talking of things of much consequence, and another friend from work stopped by, but I left feeling slightly more filled. I wonder how she does that. She knows she is able to build people up in the things she does and says, and I don't understand how it is that she is able to do such a thing, while being conscious of it, and still remaining humble. I like it. I'm a little jealous that it's not something that I really do, but I'm glad that she is able to do that for others.
I'm still working on figuring out the gifts G-d's given me. It might be closer to a mentoring role than me being charismatic and friends with everyone...
In related/unrelated news, this week in counseling I didn't cry. I normally do, to the point of it being concerning how much I cry. So, to walk out with a smile on my face, and to do more giggling than sniffing, was a great day.
My sweet counselor said some things that really made me start thinking. I had mentioned to her that I wanted to start mentoring middle school and high school aged girls. I also keep mentioning to her when I feel the L-rd is nudging me to share my story, or teach a bible study, or step back from a different bible study... and she prayerfully encourages me and we process what I think I'm being led to do, against what might be me trying to regress or avoid. She's wonderful and I am so grateful to have someone that is able to know my back story, who has faith to be able to guide me in things of faith, and all the while she is teaching me how to process life and G-d for when I might not be in counseling with her anymore.
So, I told her I felt like I wanted to mentor teens/young adults. Through the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she's thought about having me teach the Sexual Trauma Support Group (that I am presently in) with her, in the future. Now, I don't know if it will be a thing that ever actually works out, but I don't think that she's lying about that thought crossing her mind. My whole life I have believed that I have nothing to say, nothing to contribute. However, in the few times that I find myself contributing, people around me come back later (usually after knowing me for a few years) and they mention how quiet and reserved I am, but how deep and insightful my words tend to be.
I'm starting to believe them.
Who knows? Maybe one day I will teach a bible study. Maybe one day I will teach a kid's class, a middle/high school sermon, or perhaps even nursing students (eventually?). Perhaps, someday, I might have something worth saying to teach people. For right now, I am just working on walking beside them and sharing little snippets from my short 23 (almost 24) years on this earth.
I spent the night, just talking with her. Not talking of things of much consequence, and another friend from work stopped by, but I left feeling slightly more filled. I wonder how she does that. She knows she is able to build people up in the things she does and says, and I don't understand how it is that she is able to do such a thing, while being conscious of it, and still remaining humble. I like it. I'm a little jealous that it's not something that I really do, but I'm glad that she is able to do that for others.
I'm still working on figuring out the gifts G-d's given me. It might be closer to a mentoring role than me being charismatic and friends with everyone...
In related/unrelated news, this week in counseling I didn't cry. I normally do, to the point of it being concerning how much I cry. So, to walk out with a smile on my face, and to do more giggling than sniffing, was a great day.
My sweet counselor said some things that really made me start thinking. I had mentioned to her that I wanted to start mentoring middle school and high school aged girls. I also keep mentioning to her when I feel the L-rd is nudging me to share my story, or teach a bible study, or step back from a different bible study... and she prayerfully encourages me and we process what I think I'm being led to do, against what might be me trying to regress or avoid. She's wonderful and I am so grateful to have someone that is able to know my back story, who has faith to be able to guide me in things of faith, and all the while she is teaching me how to process life and G-d for when I might not be in counseling with her anymore.
So, I told her I felt like I wanted to mentor teens/young adults. Through the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she's thought about having me teach the Sexual Trauma Support Group (that I am presently in) with her, in the future. Now, I don't know if it will be a thing that ever actually works out, but I don't think that she's lying about that thought crossing her mind. My whole life I have believed that I have nothing to say, nothing to contribute. However, in the few times that I find myself contributing, people around me come back later (usually after knowing me for a few years) and they mention how quiet and reserved I am, but how deep and insightful my words tend to be.
I'm starting to believe them.
Who knows? Maybe one day I will teach a bible study. Maybe one day I will teach a kid's class, a middle/high school sermon, or perhaps even nursing students (eventually?). Perhaps, someday, I might have something worth saying to teach people. For right now, I am just working on walking beside them and sharing little snippets from my short 23 (almost 24) years on this earth.
Sunday, February 18, 2018
Some Push to Know "My Story"
In the last week, I have been slapped in the face, by G-d, several times to get my story figured out. There have been somewhere around 5 or more times that this has come up in this last week. I kid you not!
- Group therapy
- Individual counseling
- Bible study (several times over 3 week's worth of lessons, but I was behind on these particular lessons until just now... like G-d planned me being late on completing them or something...)
- Church service last night
- My "fun" fictional reading book about Ruth and Boaz
I know there have been other instances, but I cannot figure them out right now.
WHAT IS THIS PUSH FOR ME TO WRITE OUT MY STORY???!!!???
My story. The reason for the Hope that I have in the L-rd. Why I keep going.
But who am I going to tell? What is it that they need to hear from it? What is supposed to be used for someone else? It seems so many people around me are sharing their stories in a sentence or two. Am I supposed to keep it that short? Am I supposed to talk of Country Boy's suicide? Of what my childhood was like? How long is it supposed to be? Are we doing the G rated version or something a little more PG to PG-13. Obviously not with too many details, but I can tune those down while painting a picture for people. What audience am I writing for? How many people are there? How old are they? Do we want them to despise the male gender? Do I have to share about exBest Friend's crap? How long or short is it supposed to be ???!!!??? I NEED A RUBRIC AND SPECIFICATIONS!!!
I'm working on it folks. Stay tuned.
Saturday, February 17, 2018
Low Pressure System = Raining Babies
I went to a hot springs resort for a few days with my mom and brother about 2 weeks ago. Everything at work was fine before work, but when I started back with labor and delivery... the unit broke. We had so many emergency situations, babies that were not at all tolerating labor, and excessive amounts of blood. Of the last 8 days, I worked 7 and most of those were spent with me stressing over the moms and babies around me. I don't know what happened!!!
We had a low pressure system/pretty bad snowstorm role in and had 6 deliveries in one night and 3 as soon as shift change was complete in the morning. An emergency c section nearly every night and sometimes 2. We had several OB hemorrhages and even bleeding moms come back into the hospital from being at home.
This was my week and I'm so glad it is starting to simmer down for the patients. Now we just have to deal with our staff being sick and recovering from this ridiculous flu that has taken over everybody.
Meanwhile, I've felt so much lighter in my person struggles with sexual assault and trauma, plus the bullshit exBest Friend pulled.
I texted him, because he had been on my heart for awhile, but that ended quickly. He started making jokes about "doing it again" and saying it was a "fun night". Utter betrayal. I guess I was hoping for understanding, for support, for anything of what I though he had been. I needed the guy that drove me to the police station and waited in the lobby for 5 hours. I needed the friend that fought so hard to make me feel better and helped me to study when freshman year of college was getting to be too much.
I don't understand how I held out for his friendship for so long. I've struggled for so long with the way that he's treated me, and others, and his philosophies of life. He was never abusive or mean, but he definitely expected others to take care of him, even though he's a grown ass adult. He's one of those people for other people having millions of dollars, and he wants to live the rich life, but he's not about to go work a different job where he can work up the ladder. Nor would he want to work anything more than his max of 8-4 or 9-5, but let's be real here, he gets out a few hours early every day because he's salary. Then he expected me to make time, out of working 2 night shift jobs with shifts of 12 hours (so essentially, he wanted me to sleep a mere 4 hours a day for 6-7 days of the week). Plus, I was supposed to pay for me and/or him, when we went out places.
Moral of the story, it's been rough because I miss what life used to be, but I must have been delusional about what kind of friendship we had. Think about it, he only hung out with me because he wanted to date me. It's impressive to keep that crap going for over 5 years, but it helped that the crush took a little while to develop in college, and in nursing school, I didn't see him much. Then he had a long term girlfriend. So, what was our friendship anyway?
Lately, between my support group, personal counseling, bible study, and various other places, it seems as though I need to share my story. I'm trying to be articulate about what has happened, but more than the trauma, I was to articulate what G-d has done to get me through. I feel like I've come further in my healing in the past couple of weeks, after weeks of hardcore, constant wrestling with G-d. The yelling at Him; crying, scratch that, sobbing so hard that I couldn't breathe; and otherwise wracking my brain and demanding He tell me why things happened to me the way that they did. Begging Him for peace and comfort and help. I'm still working on some stuff, and He's still showing me things and working on me too. It'll take the rest of my life, but for the first time since Country Boy died (in March 2014), I feel like I can breathe. I feel like I am now being challenged to know and be able to explain why I have the hope and faith in G-d that I do, despite what's happened.
We had a low pressure system/pretty bad snowstorm role in and had 6 deliveries in one night and 3 as soon as shift change was complete in the morning. An emergency c section nearly every night and sometimes 2. We had several OB hemorrhages and even bleeding moms come back into the hospital from being at home.
This was my week and I'm so glad it is starting to simmer down for the patients. Now we just have to deal with our staff being sick and recovering from this ridiculous flu that has taken over everybody.
Meanwhile, I've felt so much lighter in my person struggles with sexual assault and trauma, plus the bullshit exBest Friend pulled.
I texted him, because he had been on my heart for awhile, but that ended quickly. He started making jokes about "doing it again" and saying it was a "fun night". Utter betrayal. I guess I was hoping for understanding, for support, for anything of what I though he had been. I needed the guy that drove me to the police station and waited in the lobby for 5 hours. I needed the friend that fought so hard to make me feel better and helped me to study when freshman year of college was getting to be too much.
I don't understand how I held out for his friendship for so long. I've struggled for so long with the way that he's treated me, and others, and his philosophies of life. He was never abusive or mean, but he definitely expected others to take care of him, even though he's a grown ass adult. He's one of those people for other people having millions of dollars, and he wants to live the rich life, but he's not about to go work a different job where he can work up the ladder. Nor would he want to work anything more than his max of 8-4 or 9-5, but let's be real here, he gets out a few hours early every day because he's salary. Then he expected me to make time, out of working 2 night shift jobs with shifts of 12 hours (so essentially, he wanted me to sleep a mere 4 hours a day for 6-7 days of the week). Plus, I was supposed to pay for me and/or him, when we went out places.
Moral of the story, it's been rough because I miss what life used to be, but I must have been delusional about what kind of friendship we had. Think about it, he only hung out with me because he wanted to date me. It's impressive to keep that crap going for over 5 years, but it helped that the crush took a little while to develop in college, and in nursing school, I didn't see him much. Then he had a long term girlfriend. So, what was our friendship anyway?
Lately, between my support group, personal counseling, bible study, and various other places, it seems as though I need to share my story. I'm trying to be articulate about what has happened, but more than the trauma, I was to articulate what G-d has done to get me through. I feel like I've come further in my healing in the past couple of weeks, after weeks of hardcore, constant wrestling with G-d. The yelling at Him; crying, scratch that, sobbing so hard that I couldn't breathe; and otherwise wracking my brain and demanding He tell me why things happened to me the way that they did. Begging Him for peace and comfort and help. I'm still working on some stuff, and He's still showing me things and working on me too. It'll take the rest of my life, but for the first time since Country Boy died (in March 2014), I feel like I can breathe. I feel like I am now being challenged to know and be able to explain why I have the hope and faith in G-d that I do, despite what's happened.
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
"Why did you stay?"
This is a question I've been asked many, many times when people hear even a smidge of my stories.
With exboyfriend, the police, detective, and my first counselor asked why I stayed the weekend after his first assault.
With exfiance, I've been much more secretive about my time with him, because I've already lost so many people because of him. I've learned to be alone and find contentment in being single, independent, and doing things solely by myself.
Last week, my counselor noted that I've been dissociated for the past few weeks, even in counseling. So, she asked me to talk about exfiance. My mind went blank (dissociation). I asked her what I should talk about and she began asking me basic questions. How did we meet? What was he like? How did it all start? Why did I let him hurt me so many times? Why did I not leave after his first assault like I did with exboyfriend? etc. etc. etc.
I was overcome with anger at being challenged, especially by someone who I had come to know synonymously with comfort and support. Tears were freely flowing at this point, though I had gotten through most of the questions with not an ounce of emotion while recalling our history and how it all started. However, the tears were spilling out like a fire hydrant when we got to the point of asking me why I stayed and let him to continue hurting me. In full defensiveness, I told her what I figured she already knew, "it's not that easy to just walk away, he wouldn't let me go".
It's true. Thus the restraining order attempt. He monopolized all my time from day 1, called and texted constantly, built me up for a few weeks, maybe a couple months, then he started the cycle of breaking me down and guilting me into staying. He brainwashed me, manipulated me to the umpteenth degree, tried to convince me I was nothing (and succeeded, for a little while). When I tried to leave, he told me he would go drive his truck into a tree because he couldn't imagine life without me. He played on all of my past traumas, to fully cement in my head that I was stuck.
Stuck with him. Stuck in an engagement, and eventual marriage, that was all a sham and started as pacification after the first assault. Stuck in abuse, convinced that that was simply my lot in life.
With this, I was introduced to the idea that I have no friends through this abuse because I was a terrible friend in the midst of it. For the 2 friends I trusted, I unloaded far too much information because I had nobody else to talk to. Then, when they stopped talking to me, it made no sense to me. But, after putting two and two together, I realized that it had been a pattern leading up to college that people simply came into my life for a time and promptly left. So, I thought nothing of it when this happened again amidst the trauma. I decided, purposely, to learn how to live without friends. Learn how to be alone. To go out and do fun things, alone. To finish nursing school, alone. I decided to stop getting hurt.
Unfortunately, this left me alone with exfiance.
The way my brain works is truly troubling. It shuts down and I can't communicate. You can ask me questions and if the answers cannot be a simple "yes" or "no", then it will be "I don't know". In truth I do know, but I need time to process. Time to write it out. Time to work my way through the dissociation to a point of being able to communicate and think again.
I went home and cried. Uncontrollable sobbing until I fell asleep early in the afternoon. I woke up a few hours later, my mind reeling. Rinse and repeat all week. I wracked my brain, trying to figure out why I'm such a terrible friend. Why I am such a target. What did I do that I deserve such terrible treatment? What did I do that I was being punished with mountains of abuse? Is my life a manifestation of punishment for a family sin? Maybe generations of family sins? What was so bad about me and so fundamentally wrong with who I am that relationships end in hurt every time? Am I really so unloveable that nobody wants me at all? No dating relationships no friendships?
I began to think back on my life. Did I not follow the rules? Did I not forgive 70 x 7 times and then continue to forgive after that? Did I not turn my cheek, try to forget wrongdoings against me, and attempt to continue on? Did I not love those who hurt me and try to show them G-d's love, just as we continually do things that are a slap in His face and He continues to take us back? Did I not strive to be a friend to those who had nobody, usually until they were accepted by the masses to simply leave me on the sidelines? Of course I saw the patterns, but everything in my past showed me I was just living the church girl life. I was doing all that I had been taught to do. Where did I go wrong?
All around me, I saw relationships falter, divorces run rampant, and those that weren't divorced were usually the ones stuck in relationships that made my relationship with exfiance look like a honeymoon. Yet, these women (primarily, and a couple of guys) found ways to be happy in the suffering. They learned to pacify the people they were with, and found ways out of the house to be able to have friends and fun with their kids without the terrible spouse.
I've noticed the patterns of families for years. Some families are large with lots of people always in your space. They love having tons of family members, cousins, aunt, uncles, etc that are all "close" with them and keeping up on their life happenings. Some families seem to have many kind people that have many terrible people that marry into the family. Others have families where nobody sees each other and the separate members of the family find pseudo families to belong to. There are other patterns, of course, but too many to rehash in this post.
Well, I figured that the pattern of nice people having terrible people marry into the family was my lot in life. With the exception of my uncle who is the spitting image of my terrible grandmother [who married into my grandfather's wonderful family]. That @$$h*!3 married my aunt and she is amazing and I love her and we claimed her in the divorce while completely ignoring my biological uncle for decades.
So, how was I supposed to know that my relationship with exfiance was not what it was supposed to be? All of my support systems left me high and dry. All of the relationships in my life pointed to nothing but finding happiness in the midst of a shitty relationship. Church taught me to forgive and turn the other cheek and try to love everyone and work to be Jesus to the nations. How was I supposed to know that following all of the fucking rules would lead to nothing but PTSD, deep depression, a loathing for my body and brain that is unparalleled to anything I have ever understood, and aloneness for the last 3 years of my life?
I read marriage/relationship books about how to be a better girlfriend and figure out how to have a happy relationship. I asked those that I could, studied blogs and everything I could find about relationships. I put in my hours trying to figure out why the only relationships I found myself in were ones that caused me mass amounts of pain. I even took a sexual assault nursing course (for all of 3 weeks until the flashbacks got too intense and I became thoroughly traumatized from the stories we had to read). I tried to figure out how to fix it, then I had to figure out how to leave, ALL BY MYSELF. I had to figure out red flags and final straws and escape plans, ALL BY MYSELF. I had to figure out how to survive so many terrible things ALL BY MYSELF.
That's why I couldn't leave. That's why I stayed for so long. I was in the Word, I was praying, I was going to church, I was reaching out for help and being met with silence at every turn. That's why I stayed. I was fighting to breathe and struggling to break free, and so no, I couldn't just walk out after the first assault. It took all I had to not find a way to die. I was even praying that G-d would just take me, any way He wanted, because I didn't even have the strength to do it myself. I was even helping Him by suggesting plans of how to take me!
Why did I stay? Because I couldn't leave.
With exboyfriend, the police, detective, and my first counselor asked why I stayed the weekend after his first assault.
With exfiance, I've been much more secretive about my time with him, because I've already lost so many people because of him. I've learned to be alone and find contentment in being single, independent, and doing things solely by myself.
Last week, my counselor noted that I've been dissociated for the past few weeks, even in counseling. So, she asked me to talk about exfiance. My mind went blank (dissociation). I asked her what I should talk about and she began asking me basic questions. How did we meet? What was he like? How did it all start? Why did I let him hurt me so many times? Why did I not leave after his first assault like I did with exboyfriend? etc. etc. etc.
I was overcome with anger at being challenged, especially by someone who I had come to know synonymously with comfort and support. Tears were freely flowing at this point, though I had gotten through most of the questions with not an ounce of emotion while recalling our history and how it all started. However, the tears were spilling out like a fire hydrant when we got to the point of asking me why I stayed and let him to continue hurting me. In full defensiveness, I told her what I figured she already knew, "it's not that easy to just walk away, he wouldn't let me go".
It's true. Thus the restraining order attempt. He monopolized all my time from day 1, called and texted constantly, built me up for a few weeks, maybe a couple months, then he started the cycle of breaking me down and guilting me into staying. He brainwashed me, manipulated me to the umpteenth degree, tried to convince me I was nothing (and succeeded, for a little while). When I tried to leave, he told me he would go drive his truck into a tree because he couldn't imagine life without me. He played on all of my past traumas, to fully cement in my head that I was stuck.
Stuck with him. Stuck in an engagement, and eventual marriage, that was all a sham and started as pacification after the first assault. Stuck in abuse, convinced that that was simply my lot in life.
With this, I was introduced to the idea that I have no friends through this abuse because I was a terrible friend in the midst of it. For the 2 friends I trusted, I unloaded far too much information because I had nobody else to talk to. Then, when they stopped talking to me, it made no sense to me. But, after putting two and two together, I realized that it had been a pattern leading up to college that people simply came into my life for a time and promptly left. So, I thought nothing of it when this happened again amidst the trauma. I decided, purposely, to learn how to live without friends. Learn how to be alone. To go out and do fun things, alone. To finish nursing school, alone. I decided to stop getting hurt.
Unfortunately, this left me alone with exfiance.
The way my brain works is truly troubling. It shuts down and I can't communicate. You can ask me questions and if the answers cannot be a simple "yes" or "no", then it will be "I don't know". In truth I do know, but I need time to process. Time to write it out. Time to work my way through the dissociation to a point of being able to communicate and think again.
I went home and cried. Uncontrollable sobbing until I fell asleep early in the afternoon. I woke up a few hours later, my mind reeling. Rinse and repeat all week. I wracked my brain, trying to figure out why I'm such a terrible friend. Why I am such a target. What did I do that I deserve such terrible treatment? What did I do that I was being punished with mountains of abuse? Is my life a manifestation of punishment for a family sin? Maybe generations of family sins? What was so bad about me and so fundamentally wrong with who I am that relationships end in hurt every time? Am I really so unloveable that nobody wants me at all? No dating relationships no friendships?
I began to think back on my life. Did I not follow the rules? Did I not forgive 70 x 7 times and then continue to forgive after that? Did I not turn my cheek, try to forget wrongdoings against me, and attempt to continue on? Did I not love those who hurt me and try to show them G-d's love, just as we continually do things that are a slap in His face and He continues to take us back? Did I not strive to be a friend to those who had nobody, usually until they were accepted by the masses to simply leave me on the sidelines? Of course I saw the patterns, but everything in my past showed me I was just living the church girl life. I was doing all that I had been taught to do. Where did I go wrong?
All around me, I saw relationships falter, divorces run rampant, and those that weren't divorced were usually the ones stuck in relationships that made my relationship with exfiance look like a honeymoon. Yet, these women (primarily, and a couple of guys) found ways to be happy in the suffering. They learned to pacify the people they were with, and found ways out of the house to be able to have friends and fun with their kids without the terrible spouse.
I've noticed the patterns of families for years. Some families are large with lots of people always in your space. They love having tons of family members, cousins, aunt, uncles, etc that are all "close" with them and keeping up on their life happenings. Some families seem to have many kind people that have many terrible people that marry into the family. Others have families where nobody sees each other and the separate members of the family find pseudo families to belong to. There are other patterns, of course, but too many to rehash in this post.
Well, I figured that the pattern of nice people having terrible people marry into the family was my lot in life. With the exception of my uncle who is the spitting image of my terrible grandmother [who married into my grandfather's wonderful family]. That @$$h*!3 married my aunt and she is amazing and I love her and we claimed her in the divorce while completely ignoring my biological uncle for decades.
So, how was I supposed to know that my relationship with exfiance was not what it was supposed to be? All of my support systems left me high and dry. All of the relationships in my life pointed to nothing but finding happiness in the midst of a shitty relationship. Church taught me to forgive and turn the other cheek and try to love everyone and work to be Jesus to the nations. How was I supposed to know that following all of the fucking rules would lead to nothing but PTSD, deep depression, a loathing for my body and brain that is unparalleled to anything I have ever understood, and aloneness for the last 3 years of my life?
I read marriage/relationship books about how to be a better girlfriend and figure out how to have a happy relationship. I asked those that I could, studied blogs and everything I could find about relationships. I put in my hours trying to figure out why the only relationships I found myself in were ones that caused me mass amounts of pain. I even took a sexual assault nursing course (for all of 3 weeks until the flashbacks got too intense and I became thoroughly traumatized from the stories we had to read). I tried to figure out how to fix it, then I had to figure out how to leave, ALL BY MYSELF. I had to figure out red flags and final straws and escape plans, ALL BY MYSELF. I had to figure out how to survive so many terrible things ALL BY MYSELF.
That's why I couldn't leave. That's why I stayed for so long. I was in the Word, I was praying, I was going to church, I was reaching out for help and being met with silence at every turn. That's why I stayed. I was fighting to breathe and struggling to break free, and so no, I couldn't just walk out after the first assault. It took all I had to not find a way to die. I was even praying that G-d would just take me, any way He wanted, because I didn't even have the strength to do it myself. I was even helping Him by suggesting plans of how to take me!
Why did I stay? Because I couldn't leave.
Sunday, December 24, 2017
Didn't think it could get any worse... And then IT DID!
Oh. My. Goodness. *breathe* My past few weeks have been awful.
Last week was my first week off of L&D orientation. Sucked! Day 1, thought I was doing okay. Can't remember exactly what happened, but it wasn't terrible. Day 2, I had 2 labor patients, not good, but I handled it. Day 3, I came back, and found out that 1 of my patients that I thought was a 4, was actually not even 1 c.m. dilated and my other lady who was a 4 turned out to be a C section for being breech.
*breathe*
I turned in my application for a Nurse Midwifery program here in-state. 3-4 days after the deadline, I got an email saying that my application would not be turned in because I was missing transcripts for my transferred credit. I probably wasted $70 on the application, and it'll never even get in front of the admission board for them to decide whether they like me or not.
*just try to breathe*
Then I go to NICU and can't seem to do anything right when I'm there, so day shift is always yelling at me because they do things differently, but I was just following what the previous day shifter told me to do.
*frickin' breathe*
Yesterday I slept through my alarm and my poor counselor texted me 20 minutes into when I was supposed to be there and I didn't call back until 20 minutes after that! Oh my gosh, I feel just so awful. She's so sweet and understanding, but I hate hate hate wasting people's time and it's the holidays. I'm sure she could have been with her family or at home or doing anything else except for waiting for ridiculous me who couldn't even wake up for my 2 alarms.
*just fuckin' take a breath*
Last night, after missing my much needed counseling appointment, I kept tearing up in the middle of feeds. My babies were being difficult (I know, it's not their fault, they're learning how to be alive and eat and manage both at the same time. Lots of work and coordination! Plus parents yell at me on the regular here because of the way the doctors/practitioners change the plan of care all the time.) Regardless, babies can be frustrating and NICU work can be very stressful, even when you only have "feeder growers" because they don't want to feed and growing is even optional. So, between not feeling okay in my NICU knowledge at this hospital, not feeling at all okay in L&D, missing my appointment, being a general thorn in everyone's side, and the myriad of other reasons why I suck as a person... I just couldn't seem to get it together.
Fast forward to 2 hours before my shift was supposed to be up and: my rooming in mom hadn't woken up and she was 30-45 minutes late with her feed, one kid was taking for-frickin-ever to bottle feed and then threw up all over my lap, and my last kid was over in his bed screaming his head off in his inconsolable state.
Maybe I need to just quit breathing at this point and all of the frustrations of life would fade away...
I don't want to be a thorn in anyone's side. Yet, I find myself in a season of being a thorn in EVERYONE'S side, even my poor counselor!
I got to thinking and it's worth note that I cannot plan a wedding. Pinterest has all sorts of cute wedding things, and one of my counseling homework assignments was to make a wedding board on Pinterest of the things I would like to have at my wedding. I don't know what I want for a wedding. I'm not particularly emotionally invested in anything with that. I do, however, have my funeral planned out to a "t". I've had my funeral planned since I was 10 or 12. I know that I was a simple casket, to be buried in gray because I don't feel worthy of being buried in white. I know that I want to be buried in the most simple casket anyone can build, under a weaping willow or some type of large tree. I don't want people dressed up and the reception should be a simple bonfire, with music, and beers. If anyone goes, it would be nice for them to share stories, but having people there doesn't seem realistic, let alone getting anyone to tell stories or even know that I died or to care that I passed. I know that, at 23, I have been a DNR for years.
Last night, I found myself in a position of longing that G-d would let me be done with life. I haven't been here in a long time. Chalk it up to being tired, stressed with so much newness with working L&D, or blame it on me not being able to make it in life without the wonderful support of a counselor because I'm just too weak; but this is not a good place to be. I don't like wanting to be gone and yet being stuck on this earth, in this body, with this life. I can't imaging a bright future. I don't know what it will look like. Not even one little bit.
Will I go on to get my Master's? Doctorate? PhD?
Will I have a husband or family? Will I die alone?
Will I be happy? Or forever chasing happiness, but never able to reach it?
I have no clue what is going to happen. I pray that there are more good things than bad to await me in the future, but I feel like I'm 89 and looking back on my life where I have a hard time understanding my purpose on this earth.
You know when circumstances get so bad that all you can do is either laugh or cry? What does it mean when you do both? But the crying isn't from laughing too hard, it's all from just being utterly overwhelmed with life.
Last week was my first week off of L&D orientation. Sucked! Day 1, thought I was doing okay. Can't remember exactly what happened, but it wasn't terrible. Day 2, I had 2 labor patients, not good, but I handled it. Day 3, I came back, and found out that 1 of my patients that I thought was a 4, was actually not even 1 c.m. dilated and my other lady who was a 4 turned out to be a C section for being breech.
*breathe*
I turned in my application for a Nurse Midwifery program here in-state. 3-4 days after the deadline, I got an email saying that my application would not be turned in because I was missing transcripts for my transferred credit. I probably wasted $70 on the application, and it'll never even get in front of the admission board for them to decide whether they like me or not.
*just try to breathe*
Then I go to NICU and can't seem to do anything right when I'm there, so day shift is always yelling at me because they do things differently, but I was just following what the previous day shifter told me to do.
*frickin' breathe*
Yesterday I slept through my alarm and my poor counselor texted me 20 minutes into when I was supposed to be there and I didn't call back until 20 minutes after that! Oh my gosh, I feel just so awful. She's so sweet and understanding, but I hate hate hate wasting people's time and it's the holidays. I'm sure she could have been with her family or at home or doing anything else except for waiting for ridiculous me who couldn't even wake up for my 2 alarms.
*just fuckin' take a breath*
Last night, after missing my much needed counseling appointment, I kept tearing up in the middle of feeds. My babies were being difficult (I know, it's not their fault, they're learning how to be alive and eat and manage both at the same time. Lots of work and coordination! Plus parents yell at me on the regular here because of the way the doctors/practitioners change the plan of care all the time.) Regardless, babies can be frustrating and NICU work can be very stressful, even when you only have "feeder growers" because they don't want to feed and growing is even optional. So, between not feeling okay in my NICU knowledge at this hospital, not feeling at all okay in L&D, missing my appointment, being a general thorn in everyone's side, and the myriad of other reasons why I suck as a person... I just couldn't seem to get it together.
Fast forward to 2 hours before my shift was supposed to be up and: my rooming in mom hadn't woken up and she was 30-45 minutes late with her feed, one kid was taking for-frickin-ever to bottle feed and then threw up all over my lap, and my last kid was over in his bed screaming his head off in his inconsolable state.
Maybe I need to just quit breathing at this point and all of the frustrations of life would fade away...
I don't want to be a thorn in anyone's side. Yet, I find myself in a season of being a thorn in EVERYONE'S side, even my poor counselor!
I got to thinking and it's worth note that I cannot plan a wedding. Pinterest has all sorts of cute wedding things, and one of my counseling homework assignments was to make a wedding board on Pinterest of the things I would like to have at my wedding. I don't know what I want for a wedding. I'm not particularly emotionally invested in anything with that. I do, however, have my funeral planned out to a "t". I've had my funeral planned since I was 10 or 12. I know that I was a simple casket, to be buried in gray because I don't feel worthy of being buried in white. I know that I want to be buried in the most simple casket anyone can build, under a weaping willow or some type of large tree. I don't want people dressed up and the reception should be a simple bonfire, with music, and beers. If anyone goes, it would be nice for them to share stories, but having people there doesn't seem realistic, let alone getting anyone to tell stories or even know that I died or to care that I passed. I know that, at 23, I have been a DNR for years.
Last night, I found myself in a position of longing that G-d would let me be done with life. I haven't been here in a long time. Chalk it up to being tired, stressed with so much newness with working L&D, or blame it on me not being able to make it in life without the wonderful support of a counselor because I'm just too weak; but this is not a good place to be. I don't like wanting to be gone and yet being stuck on this earth, in this body, with this life. I can't imaging a bright future. I don't know what it will look like. Not even one little bit.
Will I go on to get my Master's? Doctorate? PhD?
Will I have a husband or family? Will I die alone?
Will I be happy? Or forever chasing happiness, but never able to reach it?
I have no clue what is going to happen. I pray that there are more good things than bad to await me in the future, but I feel like I'm 89 and looking back on my life where I have a hard time understanding my purpose on this earth.
You know when circumstances get so bad that all you can do is either laugh or cry? What does it mean when you do both? But the crying isn't from laughing too hard, it's all from just being utterly overwhelmed with life.
Sunday, November 5, 2017
Bain of My Existence
I know it's stupid, but I despise weddings. Always have. I'll attend all of the funerals I'm invited to, or hear about, but weddings get automatic excuses and declines from me. I hate weddings.
With that said, Beauty from nursing school got engaged right before our pinning ceremony. It took them a long time, but her wedding was finally planned for the end of October (2017) and I just so happened to get invited... I straight up told her I probably wouldn't go. I have told her that since I've known her, so it's not like it was even a surprise. Still, she kept begging me to go.
I still regret going.
All through the ceremony I was holding back tears. The tears weren't because the wedding was beautiful, or because the bride and a billion other people were crying, or because of allergies. I was holding back tears thinking of my certainty that a wedding will not happen for me.
There is such a certainty and gravity to this understanding in my heart, I've had it since I was a little girl. I did not go to the father daughter dances. My dad and I spent time at his shop, where I kept busy with "girlier" things and dad taught Brother how to fix cars/trucks/everything under the sun.
Dad has social anxiety and probably a few other hinderances, which I don't blame him for, but they lead to an "un-normal" life for me. While my dad has always lived with my family, there is not much participation on his part. He didn't go to church, except maybe 3-5 times my whole childhood. We never expected to go to a restaurant for birthdays or special occasions because they made dad nervous and so the whole family would be stressed and not have fun. We stopped asking for participation from him, and didn't invite people over to the house, because we didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
So, from the time I was very young, maybe kindergarden or earlier, I've known that we just don't ask dad to do things that involve lots of people. Understanding that weddings involve lots of spotlight, lots of people, and a father-daughter dance, obviously this is not something that sounds plausible in my future...
As I sat in my counselor's office, sobbing uncontrollably (for other reasons that I'll explain later), I explained why I don't believe I will/can get married. I've blamed it on being undesirable, blemished from trauma, making new mistakes (again, I'll get to this), and a myriad of other reasons I've collected over the years. And I explained the wedding thing. I sat there and told her between, "I know it's stupid, and it's probably just jealousy, but I hate weddings."
I didn't look up, but I could feel the gentleness in her voice. "I don't hear jealousy in any of this. What I hear is a lot of hurt."
Now, this whole conversation started because she asked how the wedding went. This explaination of me keeping my eyes from leaking during the service previewed the terrible news that Best Friend and I went too far that night after the reception.
He and his roommate were invited because Beauty was Best Friend's neighbor in the dorms freshman year of college, and he's actually how I ended up meeting Beauty. We've all stayed in touch over the years, and Beauty just wants to have fun, so she invited tons of people to the wedding reception.
Now, I did drink that night, but not enough to black out. I was with it and remained free from stumbles or being too drunk. I couldn't have driven home, but if I had been given water and an hour, I could have driven home no problem.
"Why, then, did I wake up and not be able to remember anything?" I asked my counselor, in much different words.
After rehashing some of the events, I realized that Best Friend had started kissing me once I was back to his house after the reception. Many problems with that statement... 1) his roommate was supposed to drop me off at my house, but Best Friend had talked him into taking me back to their place because BF wanted to see if I would kiss him (after me telling him no ALL FUCKING NIGHT.) 2) I was not privy to this decision and never consulted to see what I wanted to do.
So, back at BF's house, I laid on the couch, nearly falling asleep. At some point, he came over and started to kiss me. About 2-3 weeks ago, I put an end to us kissing. I told him I was not ready for a relationship and that I needed us to go back to just being friends. Obviously that worked really fucking well because he definitely got the message loud and clear after me telling him this about 29474957 over the course of our "friendship". (That was all solid sarcasm.) I shouldn't have had to tell him that many times and he never should have tried to kiss me after me telling him no so many times in one night and over the past several weeks/years. Maybe I need to work on being meaner.
So, we ended up kissing, and he picked me up from the couch and carried me to his bed. Now, he had done this before, I told him a few times that I don't lay in boy's beds and he knows my stories of abuse. He told me he understands, and yet it happened a couple times. Chalk it up to me being naive and believing people when I shouldn't. Man, I'm an idiot.
He kissed down my stomach, which he's done before because he thinks it's funny when I push his face away and yell at him for doing that. Except, this time he was drunk and ended up touching me where he shouldn't. It was at this point, the the rest of my memories are non-existent or 1-2 seconds long. I remember hyperventilating, shoving his hand away, and crying for about 20-30 minutes. He freaked out and went to the far edge of his bed as I laid in the fetal position sobbing. He asked what he could do and what happened and I couldn't talk. I just turned away and cried. He tried to hug me and I pushed away. Finally, after 20-30 minutes, I settled enough for him to ask me what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to go watch t.v. and sleep. We went back out to the couch and I laid down under the blanket. I don't remember much more of the night.
I do know, however, that in the morning, I knew that we had slept together. I don't know how it started, I don't think that he raped me, but my counselor says that I dissociated because of the first incident of him touching me. This whole story came out in the first 7 minutes of me sitting down in her office and she uncovered the story via questions answered by my 1-2 syllable answers or shaking/nodding my head. I have so much shame, and disgust, and despair over this stupid night.
She tells me it's not my fault because my body was just protecting me the only way it has learned how to over the course of my abuse.
Still, I can't help but wonder how I will ever explain this act of indiscretion to someone, if a guy ever decided that he wanted to date me seriously. I had just gotten to the point where I could think about dating after 2 years of being free from exboyfriend and exfiance. After this, where it was kind of my choice, I don't know how I will recover and survive, let alone try to date and explain this to someone.
My counselor had me think about what I would tell someone else, if I were in the outside shoes and my friend were telling me their life story that was like mine. Of course I would tell that person that it wasn't their fault, that BF had taken them (me) to the police station to report the other 2 dip-shits and he should have known after the way I freaked out that I needed to not be touched. Still, I don't understand how this all happened.
I praise the L-rd for my counselor, because she spoke such healing and comfort into my life. But I still struggle with the knowledge and memories I have.
This wasn't supposed to be my life!
My counselor says that G-d was still with me through it all. But why couldn't He keep me with it enough to be able to stop it so that I didn't sin? Why wouldn't he prevent the whole mess from coming up? Why would He not just let me get dropped off at my house like I was supposed to so that I could go to sleep? Why was it that I have to be allowed to be in a position to have 1 case of trauma, let alone the whole shit-show that was my life in 2015? Then, on top of all of that, He allows this to happen because my brain automatically dissociated?!? Where was He in all of that mess? Was he standing there watching? Was He sad? Why didn't He step in? Why did He let me go through this? Why is this supposed to be stuff that I have to struggle through? What did I do but try to follow His Word and be kind and gracious? I know I make mistakes, but why this?
I keep thinking that I'll wake up and realize the past few years, and all of these mistakes and memories are just a bad nightmare. But I keep waking up and I'm forced to survive another painful day. As soon as life starts to get tolerable again, another traumatic thing happens and I have to figure out how to try to survive past that. It's not fair. Not even a little fair.
I don't understand how some people go their whole lives and never experience trauma, and some people have shit dumped on them their whole lives. I don't understand it at all!!! How do I get off this shit-list?
Yesterday, I had another talk with Best Friend. Instead of gently suggesting that we take time so that I can have some space. I flat out told him that I need to not talk to him for weeks. He kept sending me relationship snapchats this past week, after that night. Even after a 3 hour drive where I spilled my heart out to him about how badly it hurt me and how much I hated that we slept together. He has apologized profusely for the night, but he hasn't gotten the gravity of the situation because sex is a big deal to him, but it's not a part of his faith and not a part of any abuse that he has sustained. People just don't get it. Sex is not fun for me. It's been nothing but trauma. There is a very real chance that it will never be a healthy part of my life because of the continued abuse that I have sustained. For him, it was something "special" to share with someone he "liked" or maybe thinks he "loved". For me, it was a huge set-back in my 2 year recovery and now another shameful part of my past I will have to explain.
I told BF that him sending the relationship crap "hurt my heart" and that I didn't want to see it. I told him that about 17 times. He would apologize, but continue to send another "cute" one that he found later. He just doesn't get it. If he got it, then we wouldn't be in this fucking situation to begin with because he would have fucking stopped when I freaked out and I probably wouldn't have freaked out because he wouldn't have touched me that way in the first damn place!
I wasn't angry at him until yesterday and today. At counseling, my counselor told me it was okay for me to be angry with him. At that point, I was still fully angry at only myself. Now I'm just pissed.
I was so pissed on Friday (Thursday was counseling), that I finally scheduled my appointment to go see the nurse practitioner. I'm scared that the tests will find something. I'm terrified. However, I'm so sick of being scared and not knowing. So, I'm having the results sealed in an envelope, and my counselor agreed that I could read them at my appointment with her.
Guys, please pray that my body if free of disease from the first 2 assholes, and also from Best Friend. I hate that I have to worry about this. I hate that I had to take yet another Plan B pill. I hate my life and the fact that I keep having to fucking survive another day, every day.
I'm so over it all. I just want to be done.
With that said, Beauty from nursing school got engaged right before our pinning ceremony. It took them a long time, but her wedding was finally planned for the end of October (2017) and I just so happened to get invited... I straight up told her I probably wouldn't go. I have told her that since I've known her, so it's not like it was even a surprise. Still, she kept begging me to go.
I still regret going.
All through the ceremony I was holding back tears. The tears weren't because the wedding was beautiful, or because the bride and a billion other people were crying, or because of allergies. I was holding back tears thinking of my certainty that a wedding will not happen for me.
There is such a certainty and gravity to this understanding in my heart, I've had it since I was a little girl. I did not go to the father daughter dances. My dad and I spent time at his shop, where I kept busy with "girlier" things and dad taught Brother how to fix cars/trucks/everything under the sun.
Dad has social anxiety and probably a few other hinderances, which I don't blame him for, but they lead to an "un-normal" life for me. While my dad has always lived with my family, there is not much participation on his part. He didn't go to church, except maybe 3-5 times my whole childhood. We never expected to go to a restaurant for birthdays or special occasions because they made dad nervous and so the whole family would be stressed and not have fun. We stopped asking for participation from him, and didn't invite people over to the house, because we didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
So, from the time I was very young, maybe kindergarden or earlier, I've known that we just don't ask dad to do things that involve lots of people. Understanding that weddings involve lots of spotlight, lots of people, and a father-daughter dance, obviously this is not something that sounds plausible in my future...
As I sat in my counselor's office, sobbing uncontrollably (for other reasons that I'll explain later), I explained why I don't believe I will/can get married. I've blamed it on being undesirable, blemished from trauma, making new mistakes (again, I'll get to this), and a myriad of other reasons I've collected over the years. And I explained the wedding thing. I sat there and told her between, "I know it's stupid, and it's probably just jealousy, but I hate weddings."
I didn't look up, but I could feel the gentleness in her voice. "I don't hear jealousy in any of this. What I hear is a lot of hurt."
Now, this whole conversation started because she asked how the wedding went. This explaination of me keeping my eyes from leaking during the service previewed the terrible news that Best Friend and I went too far that night after the reception.
He and his roommate were invited because Beauty was Best Friend's neighbor in the dorms freshman year of college, and he's actually how I ended up meeting Beauty. We've all stayed in touch over the years, and Beauty just wants to have fun, so she invited tons of people to the wedding reception.
Now, I did drink that night, but not enough to black out. I was with it and remained free from stumbles or being too drunk. I couldn't have driven home, but if I had been given water and an hour, I could have driven home no problem.
"Why, then, did I wake up and not be able to remember anything?" I asked my counselor, in much different words.
After rehashing some of the events, I realized that Best Friend had started kissing me once I was back to his house after the reception. Many problems with that statement... 1) his roommate was supposed to drop me off at my house, but Best Friend had talked him into taking me back to their place because BF wanted to see if I would kiss him (after me telling him no ALL FUCKING NIGHT.) 2) I was not privy to this decision and never consulted to see what I wanted to do.
So, back at BF's house, I laid on the couch, nearly falling asleep. At some point, he came over and started to kiss me. About 2-3 weeks ago, I put an end to us kissing. I told him I was not ready for a relationship and that I needed us to go back to just being friends. Obviously that worked really fucking well because he definitely got the message loud and clear after me telling him this about 29474957 over the course of our "friendship". (That was all solid sarcasm.) I shouldn't have had to tell him that many times and he never should have tried to kiss me after me telling him no so many times in one night and over the past several weeks/years. Maybe I need to work on being meaner.
So, we ended up kissing, and he picked me up from the couch and carried me to his bed. Now, he had done this before, I told him a few times that I don't lay in boy's beds and he knows my stories of abuse. He told me he understands, and yet it happened a couple times. Chalk it up to me being naive and believing people when I shouldn't. Man, I'm an idiot.
He kissed down my stomach, which he's done before because he thinks it's funny when I push his face away and yell at him for doing that. Except, this time he was drunk and ended up touching me where he shouldn't. It was at this point, the the rest of my memories are non-existent or 1-2 seconds long. I remember hyperventilating, shoving his hand away, and crying for about 20-30 minutes. He freaked out and went to the far edge of his bed as I laid in the fetal position sobbing. He asked what he could do and what happened and I couldn't talk. I just turned away and cried. He tried to hug me and I pushed away. Finally, after 20-30 minutes, I settled enough for him to ask me what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to go watch t.v. and sleep. We went back out to the couch and I laid down under the blanket. I don't remember much more of the night.
I do know, however, that in the morning, I knew that we had slept together. I don't know how it started, I don't think that he raped me, but my counselor says that I dissociated because of the first incident of him touching me. This whole story came out in the first 7 minutes of me sitting down in her office and she uncovered the story via questions answered by my 1-2 syllable answers or shaking/nodding my head. I have so much shame, and disgust, and despair over this stupid night.
She tells me it's not my fault because my body was just protecting me the only way it has learned how to over the course of my abuse.
Still, I can't help but wonder how I will ever explain this act of indiscretion to someone, if a guy ever decided that he wanted to date me seriously. I had just gotten to the point where I could think about dating after 2 years of being free from exboyfriend and exfiance. After this, where it was kind of my choice, I don't know how I will recover and survive, let alone try to date and explain this to someone.
My counselor had me think about what I would tell someone else, if I were in the outside shoes and my friend were telling me their life story that was like mine. Of course I would tell that person that it wasn't their fault, that BF had taken them (me) to the police station to report the other 2 dip-shits and he should have known after the way I freaked out that I needed to not be touched. Still, I don't understand how this all happened.
I praise the L-rd for my counselor, because she spoke such healing and comfort into my life. But I still struggle with the knowledge and memories I have.
This wasn't supposed to be my life!
My counselor says that G-d was still with me through it all. But why couldn't He keep me with it enough to be able to stop it so that I didn't sin? Why wouldn't he prevent the whole mess from coming up? Why would He not just let me get dropped off at my house like I was supposed to so that I could go to sleep? Why was it that I have to be allowed to be in a position to have 1 case of trauma, let alone the whole shit-show that was my life in 2015? Then, on top of all of that, He allows this to happen because my brain automatically dissociated?!? Where was He in all of that mess? Was he standing there watching? Was He sad? Why didn't He step in? Why did He let me go through this? Why is this supposed to be stuff that I have to struggle through? What did I do but try to follow His Word and be kind and gracious? I know I make mistakes, but why this?
I keep thinking that I'll wake up and realize the past few years, and all of these mistakes and memories are just a bad nightmare. But I keep waking up and I'm forced to survive another painful day. As soon as life starts to get tolerable again, another traumatic thing happens and I have to figure out how to try to survive past that. It's not fair. Not even a little fair.
I don't understand how some people go their whole lives and never experience trauma, and some people have shit dumped on them their whole lives. I don't understand it at all!!! How do I get off this shit-list?
Yesterday, I had another talk with Best Friend. Instead of gently suggesting that we take time so that I can have some space. I flat out told him that I need to not talk to him for weeks. He kept sending me relationship snapchats this past week, after that night. Even after a 3 hour drive where I spilled my heart out to him about how badly it hurt me and how much I hated that we slept together. He has apologized profusely for the night, but he hasn't gotten the gravity of the situation because sex is a big deal to him, but it's not a part of his faith and not a part of any abuse that he has sustained. People just don't get it. Sex is not fun for me. It's been nothing but trauma. There is a very real chance that it will never be a healthy part of my life because of the continued abuse that I have sustained. For him, it was something "special" to share with someone he "liked" or maybe thinks he "loved". For me, it was a huge set-back in my 2 year recovery and now another shameful part of my past I will have to explain.
I told BF that him sending the relationship crap "hurt my heart" and that I didn't want to see it. I told him that about 17 times. He would apologize, but continue to send another "cute" one that he found later. He just doesn't get it. If he got it, then we wouldn't be in this fucking situation to begin with because he would have fucking stopped when I freaked out and I probably wouldn't have freaked out because he wouldn't have touched me that way in the first damn place!
I wasn't angry at him until yesterday and today. At counseling, my counselor told me it was okay for me to be angry with him. At that point, I was still fully angry at only myself. Now I'm just pissed.
I was so pissed on Friday (Thursday was counseling), that I finally scheduled my appointment to go see the nurse practitioner. I'm scared that the tests will find something. I'm terrified. However, I'm so sick of being scared and not knowing. So, I'm having the results sealed in an envelope, and my counselor agreed that I could read them at my appointment with her.
Guys, please pray that my body if free of disease from the first 2 assholes, and also from Best Friend. I hate that I have to worry about this. I hate that I had to take yet another Plan B pill. I hate my life and the fact that I keep having to fucking survive another day, every day.
I'm so over it all. I just want to be done.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Sleepless in... Just Sleepless
Instead of sleeping, as I should be for my day shift Labor and Delivery shift tomorrow, I'm laying here in bed with my mind racing.
I let Best Friend know that I need to be friends, and nothing more, because I am having a hard time. He took it rough, but he seemed gracious enough. Next day, he asked me over. He was in a terrible mood, looked exhausted, and he snapped at me a few times. I knew I shouldn't have gone over, but I was confused when he invited me, so I went. Bad choice, I should have trusted my gut.
He keeps texting me every once in a while, trying to pretend like he's not hurting. I know that he is. I am too, just not in the same way.
He brought up that I don't seem okay tonight, as we were casually texting. I wish that our conversations didn't just happen over the phone, where we're just reading words on a screen instead of able to listen to inflection and be able to clarify things as they come up. Instead, we choose the stupid route of sending off sentences at a time, then waiting minutes, to respond with a few more sentences. A 30 minutes conversation could go was faster, and way better in person, but we drag it out over a few very painful days.
He doesn't understand why I can't just "let my walls down and let him in". Dude, I don't even know why I can't do that! It doesn't make any sense to me! I don't know why I can't figure out dating. Why I can't get past this shit. Why I can't just be normal and have a fucking relationship where I don't end up in another level of PTSD or I end up hurting others because I'm in my survival PTSD brain. I can't figure it out! That's why I'm in counseling.
I guess I have an attachment disorder. Who'da thunk it?
Maybe I am supposed to just be single. I came to terms with that until Best Friend decided being friends wasn't enough, and then I slowly talked myself into thinking about dating again. Then I told a couple of friends that are always worried about me finding someone so that we can "double date" that I kissed Best Friend and they got all excited.
I know that relationships are NOT about making my friends happy, but somewhere along the line, I got confused and stopped thinking. That ended me in an "almost" relationship and that's where I shut down again and started regressing down the wanting to smoke line again... My anxiety came back... I started having worries and nightmares again... I started in with other self-destructive behaviors (I did not start cutting again, don't worry)...
When I told my counselor about Best Friend, I was excited, but reserved. That was about 3-4 weeks ago. When I told her about him this week, and how I was regressing, she confirmed that it was not fair for him and that for my sanity, I needed to talk with him. She encouraged me to do it face-to-face, and I fully planned to do that. But he started texting me after my counseling session, and instead of just taking my "it went okay" text, he started probing for details. I know, it's none of his business. However, I shared with him that I was struggling. He asked if it was because of how we were progressing, and I said "kind of". Then he started apologizing, and he was convinced that he caused me to have flashbacks and caused all of this damage to me. I reassured him, it was not his fault.
His mom shared with him, just an hour before our conversation, that she was depressed. Had I known that, I would have handled my problem differently. I did not, however, know about their conversation about her struggles, so he got double dumped on by two ladies in his life. This sweet kid is very caring and it was just too much for him.
Therefore, when I saw him the next day and he looked exhausted and was snappy, I had a pretty good idea of why. And, unfortunately, he just confirmed my suspicions, all on his own. He's having a rough go of things right now.
He mentioned that everybody gets hurt by me, and it's true. I honestly don't think that dating is a good idea for me because it doesn't end well.
I let Best Friend know that I need to be friends, and nothing more, because I am having a hard time. He took it rough, but he seemed gracious enough. Next day, he asked me over. He was in a terrible mood, looked exhausted, and he snapped at me a few times. I knew I shouldn't have gone over, but I was confused when he invited me, so I went. Bad choice, I should have trusted my gut.
He keeps texting me every once in a while, trying to pretend like he's not hurting. I know that he is. I am too, just not in the same way.
He brought up that I don't seem okay tonight, as we were casually texting. I wish that our conversations didn't just happen over the phone, where we're just reading words on a screen instead of able to listen to inflection and be able to clarify things as they come up. Instead, we choose the stupid route of sending off sentences at a time, then waiting minutes, to respond with a few more sentences. A 30 minutes conversation could go was faster, and way better in person, but we drag it out over a few very painful days.
He doesn't understand why I can't just "let my walls down and let him in". Dude, I don't even know why I can't do that! It doesn't make any sense to me! I don't know why I can't figure out dating. Why I can't get past this shit. Why I can't just be normal and have a fucking relationship where I don't end up in another level of PTSD or I end up hurting others because I'm in my survival PTSD brain. I can't figure it out! That's why I'm in counseling.
I guess I have an attachment disorder. Who'da thunk it?
Maybe I am supposed to just be single. I came to terms with that until Best Friend decided being friends wasn't enough, and then I slowly talked myself into thinking about dating again. Then I told a couple of friends that are always worried about me finding someone so that we can "double date" that I kissed Best Friend and they got all excited.
I know that relationships are NOT about making my friends happy, but somewhere along the line, I got confused and stopped thinking. That ended me in an "almost" relationship and that's where I shut down again and started regressing down the wanting to smoke line again... My anxiety came back... I started having worries and nightmares again... I started in with other self-destructive behaviors (I did not start cutting again, don't worry)...
When I told my counselor about Best Friend, I was excited, but reserved. That was about 3-4 weeks ago. When I told her about him this week, and how I was regressing, she confirmed that it was not fair for him and that for my sanity, I needed to talk with him. She encouraged me to do it face-to-face, and I fully planned to do that. But he started texting me after my counseling session, and instead of just taking my "it went okay" text, he started probing for details. I know, it's none of his business. However, I shared with him that I was struggling. He asked if it was because of how we were progressing, and I said "kind of". Then he started apologizing, and he was convinced that he caused me to have flashbacks and caused all of this damage to me. I reassured him, it was not his fault.
His mom shared with him, just an hour before our conversation, that she was depressed. Had I known that, I would have handled my problem differently. I did not, however, know about their conversation about her struggles, so he got double dumped on by two ladies in his life. This sweet kid is very caring and it was just too much for him.
Therefore, when I saw him the next day and he looked exhausted and was snappy, I had a pretty good idea of why. And, unfortunately, he just confirmed my suspicions, all on his own. He's having a rough go of things right now.
He mentioned that everybody gets hurt by me, and it's true. I honestly don't think that dating is a good idea for me because it doesn't end well.
Saturday, September 30, 2017
Quick Update
Grandpa died Sept 19 - I got to be there during his 3-4 days in hospice, and G-d performed many miracles. Major family drama went down. I never have to see grandma ever again!
Grandma went into the hospital shortly after and they won't let her out because of the neglect charges and APS (adult protective service) calls I (and several others) put in about her. Heard this from my aunt.
Counseling is going well, I really like my counselor and G-d gives me exactly who I need when I need them.
I kissed Best Friend. Yeah, Best Friend from freshman year of college... He still really likes me and I'm digging him a bit right now too. I'm trying to figure out life and dating, so we're technically "pre-dating", but pretty much there.
I'm still working 2 jobs, but not for much longer. My NICU job is being ridiculous, but I absolutely LOVE working L&D. My preceptor says I have about 90% accuracy rate when checking cervixes and really just don't predict that moms are 9-10 when they are. Usually I guess they are a 7...
I bought a car. It's the exact one I wanted and it's so pretty. I think G-d saved it for me and waited until the last minute, as He typically does, then gave me the exact one I wanted. I'm a little spoiled by Him <3
So, what's new with you?
Grandma went into the hospital shortly after and they won't let her out because of the neglect charges and APS (adult protective service) calls I (and several others) put in about her. Heard this from my aunt.
Counseling is going well, I really like my counselor and G-d gives me exactly who I need when I need them.
I kissed Best Friend. Yeah, Best Friend from freshman year of college... He still really likes me and I'm digging him a bit right now too. I'm trying to figure out life and dating, so we're technically "pre-dating", but pretty much there.
I'm still working 2 jobs, but not for much longer. My NICU job is being ridiculous, but I absolutely LOVE working L&D. My preceptor says I have about 90% accuracy rate when checking cervixes and really just don't predict that moms are 9-10 when they are. Usually I guess they are a 7...
I bought a car. It's the exact one I wanted and it's so pretty. I think G-d saved it for me and waited until the last minute, as He typically does, then gave me the exact one I wanted. I'm a little spoiled by Him <3
So, what's new with you?
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Hauntingly Familiar
As you might well know, from my many posts, I have moved back to the city I lived in during college (a.k.a. College Town, as named for my blog).
This also just so happens to be the city in which I lived through the worst year of my life, 2015.
2015 was a terrible year, filled with 2 relationships that were exceedingly toxic and abusive. I was sexually assaulted/raped, mentally imprisoned, physically abused, and otherwise harmed in most ways possible. Through these occurrences, I developed terrible depression, complex PTSD (which was made worse by my friend's suicide the year prior), and I participated in smoking and self-harm as ways of attempting to cope.
Often, in my experiences as a nurse, and general experiences as a human, I have been slapped in the face with comments, made by unknowing people.
Usually these include jokes about suicide or self-harm. Other times they are people lying about sexual assault and rape in order to remain out of trouble or to get attention. And still, there are instances that fall in and out of that range.
Recently, my ability to cope was tested as someone mentioned to me that "they don't believe most rape victims have actually been raped. Most of the time these girls didn't say 'no' strongly enough or contributed to the drinking and merely had sex that they regretted in the morning."
*deep breath*
For those of you who don't know my full story, just know that these are two very triggering statements for me 1) that the 'no' was not forceful enough and 2) that because the girl was drunk, it is automatically her fault because she was drinking.
Let me preface this by saying that sometimes people lie. Maybe someone is lying about having sex and regretting it in the morning and they feel that claiming it as "rape" is going to lessen their guilt or somehow get them sympathy. Let me also say that I have a tendency to believe people if they claim they have been assaulted, because if it's false then it'll eat away at them as they meet true victims. If it doesn't, then hey, not my problem. I would rather believe people and treat them with extra gentleness, than to assume that everyone is lying.
With that being said, the details of my story often keep me up at night. I have worked for years at grounding techniques and trying to remember all of the events that I unfortunately survived over the course of living through the hell I experienced in 2015.
My attackers were boyfriends. With 1, I question whether my "no" was strong enough, because I froze. I told him "no" about 50 times, maybe more. However, my body was frozen apart from moving his hands away and trying to keep myself safe. There are about 15-20 minutes that I cannot account for because my brain shut off and I had a sort of "flashback" but I didn't go into the past, I just went somewhere else in my brain. I remember my thoughts through that unaccounted time, but I cannot remember reality.
I struggle with knowing I could have done something, but I couldn't, all at the same time. Especially after taking self-defense, I know that my desires to kick him in the face and run, were absolutely acceptable and encouraged behaviors because of what he was doing. But I didn't do it, because I couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation in that particular moment.
My second boyfriend (of about 2.5 months at the time) knowingly got me drunk and likely drugged me. We had been planning to go out dancing and drinking. Like a fool, I told him my limit was 3 drinks, and asked him to hold my drink when I went out to dance. It was a night where we were given 2 free shots of various whiskey to encourage people to buy these brands. This, along with him getting me refill after refill (without my knowledge) and then encouraging me to chug, ended up causing me to drink too much. He knew I trusted him, and he knew I wasn't able to keep track of him being gone when I was dancing with my friends. He had been charming and fun for the few months we were together, until that night. The next memory I have was waking up next to him, naked, in a hotel room. I didn't know where I was, what had happened, or how to get home.
This is a struggle for me because I was counting my own drinks. I know to not drink too much. I know when to cut myself off. I trusted him. He claimed he wanted to help me after having been hurt by my first boyfriend. He claimed to have "over-the-moon" feelings for me. He claimed to want to marry me... after only a couple months of dating. We had had our fights, but he typically ended up working out a decent deal to "compromise" with me. After that night, he fought with me on religion, virginity, giving my body to him (he even claimed scripture for this, even though he is not a believer), and he fought me on everything.
With the two comments made about rape/sexual assault victims in relation to lying, saying "no", and drinking, I am at a war. I war within myself nearly every day whether I was truly abused the way I have had to convince myself I was, or if I'm making these things up and merely regret having sex with guys I hadn't even planned to kiss. Which, is a form of assault in it's own right, technically. But those are stories for another day.
And so, I lost hours of precious sleep, that I already don't get enough of, battling in my own head over words spoken out of unknowing. In the conversation, in which those comments were made, the person I spoke with prefaced the conversation saying they "had not had anyone in their family raped" and that these were just their findings in their limited control group of people who had claimed to have been assaulted/raped (a group of maybe 2 people). So, at least they acknowledged that. But it still stings.
It stings to not even believe my own memory, because of somebody's opinion about something that has never personally effected them or someone they love and know dearly. It stings to have to battle in my own head and lose sleep over such small comments. It stings to not be able to easily discern reality from nightmares, because your life is worse than your worst nightmare.
Grounding is exhausting in these situations and for someone who has been working 6 days a week, between 2 new jobs and learning all of the "new", it is especially difficult to bring myself back to the facts. To prove to myself that the labels of "rape" and "abuse" given by my counselor truly fit the relationships I had. Then, for days, my brain is recounting and dredging up all of the examples it can muster, and even some I had forgotten, in order to prove to me that I am not "crazy" for believing in my traumatic past.
And so the past haunts the present. It lurks in the corner of every new adventure. It tests out every new friendship, and holds it to standards that are unbeknownst to me. All I get are the results of the test: don't trust anyone and keep it to myself.
I don't talk about my past anymore. The more new people I meet, and the more I go on with life, the fewer people I tell. I told nobody in Small Town, and I don't plan on telling anyone here. The only people that will know, already know, and those were even probably not great choices. Thing is, it's not fair to keep it to yourself and it's not healthy. Counselors can't be the only people to ever know things like this, but I can't go around telling every random person I befriend about my traumatic past either.
The "discussions" started, the fights I wage, and the debate about what constitutes rape and abuse are conversations I simply try to avoid. Changing the subject or nodding along and zoning out seem to work the best for me. However, it seems that's all I do anymore...
And so it goes. I bandage those hurt feelings and move on. I don't blame the lips that spill the words. I don't abandon the people who think that way to begin with. All I can do is hope to recover from my many returns to the deep pits, and keep on pushing along.
Maybe one day things will get better.
This also just so happens to be the city in which I lived through the worst year of my life, 2015.
2015 was a terrible year, filled with 2 relationships that were exceedingly toxic and abusive. I was sexually assaulted/raped, mentally imprisoned, physically abused, and otherwise harmed in most ways possible. Through these occurrences, I developed terrible depression, complex PTSD (which was made worse by my friend's suicide the year prior), and I participated in smoking and self-harm as ways of attempting to cope.
Often, in my experiences as a nurse, and general experiences as a human, I have been slapped in the face with comments, made by unknowing people.
Usually these include jokes about suicide or self-harm. Other times they are people lying about sexual assault and rape in order to remain out of trouble or to get attention. And still, there are instances that fall in and out of that range.
Recently, my ability to cope was tested as someone mentioned to me that "they don't believe most rape victims have actually been raped. Most of the time these girls didn't say 'no' strongly enough or contributed to the drinking and merely had sex that they regretted in the morning."
*deep breath*
For those of you who don't know my full story, just know that these are two very triggering statements for me 1) that the 'no' was not forceful enough and 2) that because the girl was drunk, it is automatically her fault because she was drinking.
Let me preface this by saying that sometimes people lie. Maybe someone is lying about having sex and regretting it in the morning and they feel that claiming it as "rape" is going to lessen their guilt or somehow get them sympathy. Let me also say that I have a tendency to believe people if they claim they have been assaulted, because if it's false then it'll eat away at them as they meet true victims. If it doesn't, then hey, not my problem. I would rather believe people and treat them with extra gentleness, than to assume that everyone is lying.
With that being said, the details of my story often keep me up at night. I have worked for years at grounding techniques and trying to remember all of the events that I unfortunately survived over the course of living through the hell I experienced in 2015.
My attackers were boyfriends. With 1, I question whether my "no" was strong enough, because I froze. I told him "no" about 50 times, maybe more. However, my body was frozen apart from moving his hands away and trying to keep myself safe. There are about 15-20 minutes that I cannot account for because my brain shut off and I had a sort of "flashback" but I didn't go into the past, I just went somewhere else in my brain. I remember my thoughts through that unaccounted time, but I cannot remember reality.
I struggle with knowing I could have done something, but I couldn't, all at the same time. Especially after taking self-defense, I know that my desires to kick him in the face and run, were absolutely acceptable and encouraged behaviors because of what he was doing. But I didn't do it, because I couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation in that particular moment.
My second boyfriend (of about 2.5 months at the time) knowingly got me drunk and likely drugged me. We had been planning to go out dancing and drinking. Like a fool, I told him my limit was 3 drinks, and asked him to hold my drink when I went out to dance. It was a night where we were given 2 free shots of various whiskey to encourage people to buy these brands. This, along with him getting me refill after refill (without my knowledge) and then encouraging me to chug, ended up causing me to drink too much. He knew I trusted him, and he knew I wasn't able to keep track of him being gone when I was dancing with my friends. He had been charming and fun for the few months we were together, until that night. The next memory I have was waking up next to him, naked, in a hotel room. I didn't know where I was, what had happened, or how to get home.
This is a struggle for me because I was counting my own drinks. I know to not drink too much. I know when to cut myself off. I trusted him. He claimed he wanted to help me after having been hurt by my first boyfriend. He claimed to have "over-the-moon" feelings for me. He claimed to want to marry me... after only a couple months of dating. We had had our fights, but he typically ended up working out a decent deal to "compromise" with me. After that night, he fought with me on religion, virginity, giving my body to him (he even claimed scripture for this, even though he is not a believer), and he fought me on everything.
With the two comments made about rape/sexual assault victims in relation to lying, saying "no", and drinking, I am at a war. I war within myself nearly every day whether I was truly abused the way I have had to convince myself I was, or if I'm making these things up and merely regret having sex with guys I hadn't even planned to kiss. Which, is a form of assault in it's own right, technically. But those are stories for another day.
And so, I lost hours of precious sleep, that I already don't get enough of, battling in my own head over words spoken out of unknowing. In the conversation, in which those comments were made, the person I spoke with prefaced the conversation saying they "had not had anyone in their family raped" and that these were just their findings in their limited control group of people who had claimed to have been assaulted/raped (a group of maybe 2 people). So, at least they acknowledged that. But it still stings.
It stings to not even believe my own memory, because of somebody's opinion about something that has never personally effected them or someone they love and know dearly. It stings to have to battle in my own head and lose sleep over such small comments. It stings to not be able to easily discern reality from nightmares, because your life is worse than your worst nightmare.
Grounding is exhausting in these situations and for someone who has been working 6 days a week, between 2 new jobs and learning all of the "new", it is especially difficult to bring myself back to the facts. To prove to myself that the labels of "rape" and "abuse" given by my counselor truly fit the relationships I had. Then, for days, my brain is recounting and dredging up all of the examples it can muster, and even some I had forgotten, in order to prove to me that I am not "crazy" for believing in my traumatic past.
And so the past haunts the present. It lurks in the corner of every new adventure. It tests out every new friendship, and holds it to standards that are unbeknownst to me. All I get are the results of the test: don't trust anyone and keep it to myself.
I don't talk about my past anymore. The more new people I meet, and the more I go on with life, the fewer people I tell. I told nobody in Small Town, and I don't plan on telling anyone here. The only people that will know, already know, and those were even probably not great choices. Thing is, it's not fair to keep it to yourself and it's not healthy. Counselors can't be the only people to ever know things like this, but I can't go around telling every random person I befriend about my traumatic past either.
The "discussions" started, the fights I wage, and the debate about what constitutes rape and abuse are conversations I simply try to avoid. Changing the subject or nodding along and zoning out seem to work the best for me. However, it seems that's all I do anymore...
And so it goes. I bandage those hurt feelings and move on. I don't blame the lips that spill the words. I don't abandon the people who think that way to begin with. All I can do is hope to recover from my many returns to the deep pits, and keep on pushing along.
Maybe one day things will get better.
Monday, October 24, 2016
Domestic Violence Awareness Month
October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month and a time that I now get to soberly celebrate my freedom from the insanity that was my life less than a year ago.
It's a time that I get to remember how far I've come in the few short months since completely breaking ties and completing counseling for my abuses and C-PTSD.
While this is a time of important remembrance for me, it is also a time of angst in knowing that there are others still going through hell and still others who will follow us on the rough path of being targeted by people who think it's okay to hurt others.
Though his attempts to get in touch with me have not ceased, I am somewhere I hope is safe. It is wonderful to be able to say I am not under his reign, and I can breathe again. My life is starting anew and I hope, as the years pass and more time comes between me and that season in my life, that I will continue to put back the pieces of my life and even continue to grow.
My heart goes out to those experiencing abuse, those that have survived, and those loving the victims/survivors. It takes us all to be able to make it through the craziness our abusers cause, but keep strong and continue to fight on.
It's a time that I get to remember how far I've come in the few short months since completely breaking ties and completing counseling for my abuses and C-PTSD.
While this is a time of important remembrance for me, it is also a time of angst in knowing that there are others still going through hell and still others who will follow us on the rough path of being targeted by people who think it's okay to hurt others.
Though his attempts to get in touch with me have not ceased, I am somewhere I hope is safe. It is wonderful to be able to say I am not under his reign, and I can breathe again. My life is starting anew and I hope, as the years pass and more time comes between me and that season in my life, that I will continue to put back the pieces of my life and even continue to grow.
My heart goes out to those experiencing abuse, those that have survived, and those loving the victims/survivors. It takes us all to be able to make it through the craziness our abusers cause, but keep strong and continue to fight on.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Support Group
Back in Home State, I asked my counselor about getting into a support group. While she was supportive, she told me there were two minor issues with that desire, but that I could do whatever it is that I felt would help. She told me: 1) you may want to wait until you are more stable because it may produce more triggers than you are used to, and 2) there isn't one at this crisis center, but I can help you search for one, if you decide this is something you still want to pursue.
Long story short, I didn't go to a support group in Home State, but I continued on with counseling. I went to counseling for a little over 4 months (3 months of which was 2 times a week). Now, with the help and support of Nurse Dee, and my worsening struggles with the events that put me in counseling to begin with, I have searched for one in Small Town and found one!
I went to support group last night. It was small at first. At 5:45 (when it starts), there were the leader, one other survivor, and myself. Shortly after group started, 2 more ladies came. We talked about boundaries, which is something I had requested my counselor to teach me about several months ago. So, it was mostly just a refresher, but still helpful because those are things that are commonly a struggle and that are good to practice and be reminded of on an ongoing basis.
So, group was good. I plan on going back when I have the chance and don't have to be at work or anything. I hope it goes well. I hope that this is a good group that helps me make connections and brings some peace. Granted, if the only thing it does is get me out of the house, that's a pretty big win anyway.
Long story short, I didn't go to a support group in Home State, but I continued on with counseling. I went to counseling for a little over 4 months (3 months of which was 2 times a week). Now, with the help and support of Nurse Dee, and my worsening struggles with the events that put me in counseling to begin with, I have searched for one in Small Town and found one!
I went to support group last night. It was small at first. At 5:45 (when it starts), there were the leader, one other survivor, and myself. Shortly after group started, 2 more ladies came. We talked about boundaries, which is something I had requested my counselor to teach me about several months ago. So, it was mostly just a refresher, but still helpful because those are things that are commonly a struggle and that are good to practice and be reminded of on an ongoing basis.
So, group was good. I plan on going back when I have the chance and don't have to be at work or anything. I hope it goes well. I hope that this is a good group that helps me make connections and brings some peace. Granted, if the only thing it does is get me out of the house, that's a pretty big win anyway.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Graduation Came and Went, but It Turned Out Happy!
My last post was about how I was all sad at school ending. I had just finished my last final and instead of relief or happiness, I was feeling sad. Well, it's okay. Despite how difficult, frustrating, and down-right draining nursing school was, it was kind of my identity and a time of stressful excitement in my life for the past 3-4 years! The end of that is relieving, in some ways, but I've learned it's okay to be mildly sad at the ending because it's the end of a major life era.
Through nursing school/college I've:
I have talked with several of my friends, both nursing and non-nursing, that graduated with me on Friday, and they are having similar mixed feelings about graduation. Many of us are waking up in a panic because we feel we need to be in class, thought we are done now. Others are sad school is over because some of us are moving to other states and we may never see each other again, let alone every day!
Graduation is a happy time, but it's okay to be overwhelmed, sad, anxious, nervous, and a host of other emotions. Being able to feel all of these is part of what makes us human and helps us concrete these huge monuments in our memory bank.
I'll tell you a bit about how my graduation weekend went, though, just in case you were wondering...
Thursday: Pinning went well. My Mom pinned me, but Mema and Brother were able to go up on stage with me. It was a great ceremony and the Nurse's Pledge really got to me. As I was reading it with my classmates, and my family and friends listened to me promise my life for the career of a nurse, I was able to reflect and realize that nursing is my calling. The pledge sounded like it was written for me!
Friday: Graduation was wonderful! My mom's sister and her husband drove down with us. Then Brother and Dad met us at the event center. Everyone loved my cap, except my peds professor (who I've had serious problems with all semester and who mocked it in front of the other professors to my face!). I put RN but instead of "Registered Nurse" I wrote out "Redneck Nurse" and put it on camo back ground. I'm known as the class redneck and so many of my classmates and friends loved it! What's even better is that when my peds professor was mocking my cap, the other professors chimed in and told me how cute it was and how creative I was to come up with that. So, it made me feel a bit better. I got lots of pictures and had a grand ol' time during graduation. The nursing class was in the back of the graduate seating, and many of us were talking and laughing the whole time because getting through 1000+ students all graduating takes a long time! Many nursing students wore their stethoscopes as cords and I even graduated Cum Laude! I was so close to the next highest gpa, but graduating with honors at all was an accomplishment that I am very proud of.
Saturday: This was the day of my party. Many people RSVP'd, so I got food for about 50-60 people and rented a park. Unfortunately, only 3 of my friends, one of my uncles and his family came, and then two sets of family friends came. Well, my Mom, Dad, and Brother came too. It was cold and rainy, so my dad was surprised that anyone came at all, but the people that did come went out of their way to make sure that someone came to celebrate with me, so I was glad for that. I think I should have planned it for a different weekend, because so many people were having parties that day. However, it was disappointing, yet a good time to practice "spinning" the situation to find the silver lining. The spin is: the people that came are all so very dear to my heart, I was glad to be able to spend lots of time with each of them individually instead of being overwhelmed by the amount of people who showed up.
So, it was a good weekend. My favorite day was graduation. I got so many photos with friends. I shared a lot of smiles and hugs. The whole day fell into place and G-d worked out the whole weekend just the way it was supposed to be. I'm so very glad for that.
Ladies and gents, I would like to present to you... ME! I graduated counseling, nursing school, and I am beginning my adult life with a job right out of college. Life will not be easy by any means, though many days I wish it were. However, I know that sometimes the L-rd blesses others through the struggles I have and the L-rd blesses me through different events, both seemingly good and bad events. Life is a journey. It's hard, fund, and every changing. All we can do is hold on for the ride and pray that someday, our life makes a difference and we learn the lessons we are supposed to learn while here on this earth.
I'm approaching this next phase in my life with cautious optimism. I'm terrified, but I see the L-rd working every day. Most days are still a struggle, but I'm not bed-bound anymore. Even today, when it's cold and cloudy and I have nothing I really need to do, I pulled myself out of bed and got my butt to Starbucks. I'm making baby steps in my healing journey and graduating counseling is proving to be a struggle. However, I know that I can go back to counseling at any time, but it is meant to be a temporary crutch as opposed to a new life-long sentence/expense.
I graduated!
Now I'm: BedpanAlley, BSN!
I have to catch myself, I keep calling myself a nursing student instead of a newly graduated baby-nurse... I'll fix that in time. Maybe someday I'll begin to feel like a nurse, but the learning will never end. Good thing I love to learn, right?
Through nursing school/college I've:
- had countless highs and lows
- gained and lost friends
- was encouraged in my calling
- was told I would never get into the program, and then did get in!
- I went through many traumatic events, all in a 2 year time-span
- learned new things about myself
- lost pieces of what I htought was important about me, but gained new insights and strengths
- learned the basics of how to "be a nurse", according to textbooks
- had countless instructors, patients, friends, and family tell me that I was made to be a nurse
- I've cried and laughed with patients
- cuddled babies
- held the hands of people in the dying process
- celebrated "little" things with patients and families of patients
- been able to care for those who nobody else would touch
- and so much more
I have talked with several of my friends, both nursing and non-nursing, that graduated with me on Friday, and they are having similar mixed feelings about graduation. Many of us are waking up in a panic because we feel we need to be in class, thought we are done now. Others are sad school is over because some of us are moving to other states and we may never see each other again, let alone every day!
Graduation is a happy time, but it's okay to be overwhelmed, sad, anxious, nervous, and a host of other emotions. Being able to feel all of these is part of what makes us human and helps us concrete these huge monuments in our memory bank.
I'll tell you a bit about how my graduation weekend went, though, just in case you were wondering...
Thursday: Pinning went well. My Mom pinned me, but Mema and Brother were able to go up on stage with me. It was a great ceremony and the Nurse's Pledge really got to me. As I was reading it with my classmates, and my family and friends listened to me promise my life for the career of a nurse, I was able to reflect and realize that nursing is my calling. The pledge sounded like it was written for me!
Friday: Graduation was wonderful! My mom's sister and her husband drove down with us. Then Brother and Dad met us at the event center. Everyone loved my cap, except my peds professor (who I've had serious problems with all semester and who mocked it in front of the other professors to my face!). I put RN but instead of "Registered Nurse" I wrote out "Redneck Nurse" and put it on camo back ground. I'm known as the class redneck and so many of my classmates and friends loved it! What's even better is that when my peds professor was mocking my cap, the other professors chimed in and told me how cute it was and how creative I was to come up with that. So, it made me feel a bit better. I got lots of pictures and had a grand ol' time during graduation. The nursing class was in the back of the graduate seating, and many of us were talking and laughing the whole time because getting through 1000+ students all graduating takes a long time! Many nursing students wore their stethoscopes as cords and I even graduated Cum Laude! I was so close to the next highest gpa, but graduating with honors at all was an accomplishment that I am very proud of.
Saturday: This was the day of my party. Many people RSVP'd, so I got food for about 50-60 people and rented a park. Unfortunately, only 3 of my friends, one of my uncles and his family came, and then two sets of family friends came. Well, my Mom, Dad, and Brother came too. It was cold and rainy, so my dad was surprised that anyone came at all, but the people that did come went out of their way to make sure that someone came to celebrate with me, so I was glad for that. I think I should have planned it for a different weekend, because so many people were having parties that day. However, it was disappointing, yet a good time to practice "spinning" the situation to find the silver lining. The spin is: the people that came are all so very dear to my heart, I was glad to be able to spend lots of time with each of them individually instead of being overwhelmed by the amount of people who showed up.
So, it was a good weekend. My favorite day was graduation. I got so many photos with friends. I shared a lot of smiles and hugs. The whole day fell into place and G-d worked out the whole weekend just the way it was supposed to be. I'm so very glad for that.
Ladies and gents, I would like to present to you... ME! I graduated counseling, nursing school, and I am beginning my adult life with a job right out of college. Life will not be easy by any means, though many days I wish it were. However, I know that sometimes the L-rd blesses others through the struggles I have and the L-rd blesses me through different events, both seemingly good and bad events. Life is a journey. It's hard, fund, and every changing. All we can do is hold on for the ride and pray that someday, our life makes a difference and we learn the lessons we are supposed to learn while here on this earth.
I'm approaching this next phase in my life with cautious optimism. I'm terrified, but I see the L-rd working every day. Most days are still a struggle, but I'm not bed-bound anymore. Even today, when it's cold and cloudy and I have nothing I really need to do, I pulled myself out of bed and got my butt to Starbucks. I'm making baby steps in my healing journey and graduating counseling is proving to be a struggle. However, I know that I can go back to counseling at any time, but it is meant to be a temporary crutch as opposed to a new life-long sentence/expense.
I graduated!
Now I'm: BedpanAlley, BSN!
I have to catch myself, I keep calling myself a nursing student instead of a newly graduated baby-nurse... I'll fix that in time. Maybe someday I'll begin to feel like a nurse, but the learning will never end. Good thing I love to learn, right?
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
I thought it would be different...
Well guys, I just finished my last final of nursing school. You wanna know something? I passed! That means I graduate on Friday and I have the opportunity to sit for the NCLEX to see if I get to be a registered nurse or not.
I thought it would be different. I thought I would be so excited, celebrating with my many friends, and I figured I would have a better plan. I thought this was supposed to be a happy affair.
Right now, I'm sitting in a coffee shop frustrated with my lack of support, my family split, my dreams of a family crushed, regret over my past (guys and friends) encompassing me, stress over legal matters drowning me, and I'm living in an RV with my mom because my roomie "kicked" me out a week and a half early. I'm overwhelmed at the amount of seemingly bad circumstances I have been faced with, still knowing that other people face worse lives than mine.
I "graduated" counseling yesterday. We call it that because I used to tell my counselor that I was graduating a bunch of things all at the same time so we might as well call it graduating from counseling too. She approved and thought it was cute. Well, I fell like after yesterday, I hit new rough waters and now I need her back. Finishing counseling is supposed to be a good thing, but now it left me feeling like I'm not actually ready to face life on my own again just yet. I guess I'll try it for a couple weeks/months and then decide if I need to find another counselor once I move.
Graduation is supposed to be a happy time, but you know what? It's okay if it's a little sad or frustrating for you. It's sad and frustrating for me too.
I thought it would be different. I thought I would be so excited, celebrating with my many friends, and I figured I would have a better plan. I thought this was supposed to be a happy affair.
Right now, I'm sitting in a coffee shop frustrated with my lack of support, my family split, my dreams of a family crushed, regret over my past (guys and friends) encompassing me, stress over legal matters drowning me, and I'm living in an RV with my mom because my roomie "kicked" me out a week and a half early. I'm overwhelmed at the amount of seemingly bad circumstances I have been faced with, still knowing that other people face worse lives than mine.
I "graduated" counseling yesterday. We call it that because I used to tell my counselor that I was graduating a bunch of things all at the same time so we might as well call it graduating from counseling too. She approved and thought it was cute. Well, I fell like after yesterday, I hit new rough waters and now I need her back. Finishing counseling is supposed to be a good thing, but now it left me feeling like I'm not actually ready to face life on my own again just yet. I guess I'll try it for a couple weeks/months and then decide if I need to find another counselor once I move.
Graduation is supposed to be a happy time, but you know what? It's okay if it's a little sad or frustrating for you. It's sad and frustrating for me too.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Overwhelmed, but Not Stressed
This weekend was an odd one. It's the one actual weekend where I can point to on a calendar and show people that my family fell apart. I went back home to help my parents move, this last weekend. They've been talking about separating for years, but they never actually go through with it because they somehow find a need for each other, usually financially.
Well, this time, it actually happened. Mom bought an RV a couple months back and Dad told her he refused to live in it. Long story short, the landlord for their house decided she wanted to now sell the house instead of renting it out anymore, so she gave them 30 days notice. Dad found an apartment and Mom found a place to park her RV.
At first, when I was told about 6 months ago that they were talking about splitting up, I was relieved. I know that this relationship has been hard on both of them, and they only really stayed together for us kids (my brother and I) but that's not fair. As the date approached, I started getting more stressed. Then the anticipation led to fear and all of a sudden I felt like my whole family was going every-which-way and that I would be all alone, in a big ol' world, to fend for myself. *Flip BedpanAlley's panic attack switch...*
It was rough going for me for awhile. After talking with Counselor about it, I ended up realizing that my parent's relationship wasn't the only thing that I was losing. I felt I was losing touch with family, I was losing my home, I am coming to the end of school, I'm losing "friends", I'm moving to another state in a month or two, I'm having to start a new job, and I am on the brink of a complete life turnover. That's intense. I don't know if you've gone through things like this, but man alive is it hard. Plus, I'm "graduating" from counseling, which has been one of only a couple steady relationships that I've ever had in my life. So, lots of bitter-sweet things happening.
Well, since my parents have been living apart for the past 2-3 days, they both call me almost every day to check on me. Granted, that's because I'm sick. However, they both sound happier and lighter. Sure, I'm certain they might be sad, but I think they figured out their feelings awhile ago and dealt with those while still living with each other. Granted, they are only living separately. My Dad went over and helped my Mom hook up her RV at the little park place. Dad is still going to go back to help finish setting her up. Mom is still going to be nice to Dad and probably continue to give him haircuts. The only thing that is different is that they don't live under the same roof or pay bills together anymore. It's super weird, but hey, if it works for them it works for me. They are talking nicer to and about each other and they're keeping nice because they like each other as friends, but can't handle staying together all the time without kid buffers. That's a normal developmental stage, according to some psychologist that I was supposed to learn about in my Pediatric Nursing Class... that I don't pay attention to... because I'm coloring in the back...
So, whatever. It only made me cry a couple times when thinking about it. However, once I think about it even more and look at the good in the situation, it's much easier to see that this is just something that needed to happen and that it was actually a good thing.
People keep snapping at me. Maybe I'm just that irritating or maybe everyone's just stressed. It could be a combination. Honestly, everyone can be irritating if someone is already stressed. The thing about snapping at me is that you can't simply slap a "sorry" on it and make the whole thing better. I shut down when someone yells at me, in any capacity. It's something I've always done and I am working my hardest to get past it, but it may be one of those roadblocks that I never fully get over.
For those of you who love someone or know someone who has been a victim of sexual assault, an abusive (in any sense of the term) relationship, or comes from a tough childhood background, please be extra cognizant of how you treat them. Some of us in this world have been given a lot of people who push us into the ground. In order to survive, our fight or flight has been molded into more of a shelter in place and become as small as possible. Don't mistake this as weakness, understand that this was our survival tool that kept us from more trouble than we had already experienced. We can still take "criticism" and you can still fully express yourself to us, but be gentle. Remember to think about what you actually need to and intend to say, and say it calmly. Make sure not to make personal attacks, but communicate clearly and logically. We need time to process, in many cases, before we can be able to respond. Do not demand an answer right away, because we may not have one for you yet. If you open up the talk as more of a conversation where we can be heard too, things will go smoother. Then, just know that we may be more reserved and quiet for a few days or a few weeks. Be patient with us. Many of us have learned that trying to have our voice heard about issues only causes more problems for us so we have a tendency to avoid conflict and be slow to warm up. Pick your battles. If it is something that is not a huge deal and you can handle it for awhile longer, please do so. Even better, learn to drop it. If it is something that needs to be addressed, address one or two things at a time and don't bombard us with a huge list of things that we do wrong. We'll see that as us being a failure and that you don't like/love us anymore. Trust me, we know what pisses everyone off about us and we do our best to not do those things. Some things are unavoidable and we are flight risks. It doesn't take much to set me off and shut me down for weeks. Something as little as a 3 second snap at me can cause huge problems for weeks that I have to work through.
So please, just be cognizant that some of us have a hard time with communication and with our thinking process. It's not that we're dumb or incapable of discussing things with you, sometimes we just need more time than people who have learned how to be able to discuss or fight for themselves. We haven't necessarily gotten the opportunities to learn how to do that.
Well, this time, it actually happened. Mom bought an RV a couple months back and Dad told her he refused to live in it. Long story short, the landlord for their house decided she wanted to now sell the house instead of renting it out anymore, so she gave them 30 days notice. Dad found an apartment and Mom found a place to park her RV.
At first, when I was told about 6 months ago that they were talking about splitting up, I was relieved. I know that this relationship has been hard on both of them, and they only really stayed together for us kids (my brother and I) but that's not fair. As the date approached, I started getting more stressed. Then the anticipation led to fear and all of a sudden I felt like my whole family was going every-which-way and that I would be all alone, in a big ol' world, to fend for myself. *Flip BedpanAlley's panic attack switch...*
It was rough going for me for awhile. After talking with Counselor about it, I ended up realizing that my parent's relationship wasn't the only thing that I was losing. I felt I was losing touch with family, I was losing my home, I am coming to the end of school, I'm losing "friends", I'm moving to another state in a month or two, I'm having to start a new job, and I am on the brink of a complete life turnover. That's intense. I don't know if you've gone through things like this, but man alive is it hard. Plus, I'm "graduating" from counseling, which has been one of only a couple steady relationships that I've ever had in my life. So, lots of bitter-sweet things happening.
Well, since my parents have been living apart for the past 2-3 days, they both call me almost every day to check on me. Granted, that's because I'm sick. However, they both sound happier and lighter. Sure, I'm certain they might be sad, but I think they figured out their feelings awhile ago and dealt with those while still living with each other. Granted, they are only living separately. My Dad went over and helped my Mom hook up her RV at the little park place. Dad is still going to go back to help finish setting her up. Mom is still going to be nice to Dad and probably continue to give him haircuts. The only thing that is different is that they don't live under the same roof or pay bills together anymore. It's super weird, but hey, if it works for them it works for me. They are talking nicer to and about each other and they're keeping nice because they like each other as friends, but can't handle staying together all the time without kid buffers. That's a normal developmental stage, according to some psychologist that I was supposed to learn about in my Pediatric Nursing Class... that I don't pay attention to... because I'm coloring in the back...
So, whatever. It only made me cry a couple times when thinking about it. However, once I think about it even more and look at the good in the situation, it's much easier to see that this is just something that needed to happen and that it was actually a good thing.
People keep snapping at me. Maybe I'm just that irritating or maybe everyone's just stressed. It could be a combination. Honestly, everyone can be irritating if someone is already stressed. The thing about snapping at me is that you can't simply slap a "sorry" on it and make the whole thing better. I shut down when someone yells at me, in any capacity. It's something I've always done and I am working my hardest to get past it, but it may be one of those roadblocks that I never fully get over.
For those of you who love someone or know someone who has been a victim of sexual assault, an abusive (in any sense of the term) relationship, or comes from a tough childhood background, please be extra cognizant of how you treat them. Some of us in this world have been given a lot of people who push us into the ground. In order to survive, our fight or flight has been molded into more of a shelter in place and become as small as possible. Don't mistake this as weakness, understand that this was our survival tool that kept us from more trouble than we had already experienced. We can still take "criticism" and you can still fully express yourself to us, but be gentle. Remember to think about what you actually need to and intend to say, and say it calmly. Make sure not to make personal attacks, but communicate clearly and logically. We need time to process, in many cases, before we can be able to respond. Do not demand an answer right away, because we may not have one for you yet. If you open up the talk as more of a conversation where we can be heard too, things will go smoother. Then, just know that we may be more reserved and quiet for a few days or a few weeks. Be patient with us. Many of us have learned that trying to have our voice heard about issues only causes more problems for us so we have a tendency to avoid conflict and be slow to warm up. Pick your battles. If it is something that is not a huge deal and you can handle it for awhile longer, please do so. Even better, learn to drop it. If it is something that needs to be addressed, address one or two things at a time and don't bombard us with a huge list of things that we do wrong. We'll see that as us being a failure and that you don't like/love us anymore. Trust me, we know what pisses everyone off about us and we do our best to not do those things. Some things are unavoidable and we are flight risks. It doesn't take much to set me off and shut me down for weeks. Something as little as a 3 second snap at me can cause huge problems for weeks that I have to work through.
So please, just be cognizant that some of us have a hard time with communication and with our thinking process. It's not that we're dumb or incapable of discussing things with you, sometimes we just need more time than people who have learned how to be able to discuss or fight for themselves. We haven't necessarily gotten the opportunities to learn how to do that.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
School Tomorrow
Hey y'all, I'm having o go back to school tomorrow. Goodness, I had so many plans for my very last Spring Break, but none of those occurred.
Why? You may ask... We've had 3, count them one, two, THREE snowstorms! What is that?!? It's Spring frickin' Break!!!
Good grief! I was supposed to have a massage with my mom Wednesday but we got a couple feet of snow... I wanted to go out Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights (moving the night as the snow ruined each night) and I ended up cancelling all of them because of the weather and ice.
Most of the snow is gone now because it's spring. Oy vey! Spring snow storms are rough because the snow is really wet and heavy, but there is a lot of it. Then, it's all gone by that evening or the following day. I don't understand. Oh well.
So, school starts back tomorrow. I get no break all day because I have skills lab in the hour break that I normally get between my morning nursing class and my afternoon main campus class. Getting the professor to help me by doing the skills lab in this time was a huge struggle because she scheduled it for all of the other clinical groups during my afternoon class. She told me I needed to "prioritize" which class I was going to go to, but that her skills lab was mandatory. She gave me a "hint" that I needed to go to her lab because the other class was not what my degree was going to be in... Yes, she actually said that to me!
Tomorrow, along with no break, I get to wear my whites on main campus and I will get to be late to my afternoon class. Great! Thanks nursing school.
Why? You may ask... We've had 3, count them one, two, THREE snowstorms! What is that?!? It's Spring frickin' Break!!!
Good grief! I was supposed to have a massage with my mom Wednesday but we got a couple feet of snow... I wanted to go out Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights (moving the night as the snow ruined each night) and I ended up cancelling all of them because of the weather and ice.
Most of the snow is gone now because it's spring. Oy vey! Spring snow storms are rough because the snow is really wet and heavy, but there is a lot of it. Then, it's all gone by that evening or the following day. I don't understand. Oh well.
So, school starts back tomorrow. I get no break all day because I have skills lab in the hour break that I normally get between my morning nursing class and my afternoon main campus class. Getting the professor to help me by doing the skills lab in this time was a huge struggle because she scheduled it for all of the other clinical groups during my afternoon class. She told me I needed to "prioritize" which class I was going to go to, but that her skills lab was mandatory. She gave me a "hint" that I needed to go to her lab because the other class was not what my degree was going to be in... Yes, she actually said that to me!
Tomorrow, along with no break, I get to wear my whites on main campus and I will get to be late to my afternoon class. Great! Thanks nursing school.
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Ups and Downs
Roomie's boyfriend turns out to be pretty cool. I'm keeping my distance from everyone right now.
Brother got a 1 a.m. text from me freaking out because nobody is ever going to want me and my brain hates me so it's bringing up all of the terrible things from my past to show me, all at once, in an attempt to kill me slowly. It's not working.
I finished a bottle and a quarter of wine off today once I got home. I'm hoping I'll fall asleep soon.
I have homework but I honestly don't care because my brain isn't even working right now.
Counseling went about how I thought it was going to. Crying and increased flashbacks/nightmares are normal at this point. I'm normal. It's okay for me to be frustrated, but I made a lot of progress in a really short amount of time and now it's time to regress again.
Great.
I'm tired but I'm gonna go for a walk.
Brother got a 1 a.m. text from me freaking out because nobody is ever going to want me and my brain hates me so it's bringing up all of the terrible things from my past to show me, all at once, in an attempt to kill me slowly. It's not working.
I finished a bottle and a quarter of wine off today once I got home. I'm hoping I'll fall asleep soon.
I have homework but I honestly don't care because my brain isn't even working right now.
Counseling went about how I thought it was going to. Crying and increased flashbacks/nightmares are normal at this point. I'm normal. It's okay for me to be frustrated, but I made a lot of progress in a really short amount of time and now it's time to regress again.
Great.
I'm tired but I'm gonna go for a walk.
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