PTSD, Suicide awareness and prevention

Guided Meditation…

Yesterday my therapy appointment was a bit of a shit show. I spent most of the 45 minute time slot filling out paperwork so they can update their new system. 

When I finally got to sit down and talk to my therapist,  she asked how I was feeling. “So so.” She then asked if I was having thoughts of harming myself. The thoughts are always there. I said yes, but they weren’t strong enough to make me act on them. I told her the biggest problem at the forefront of my mind is my marriage, and how I’m struggling with insecurity and trust.

“What would your husband have to do for you to trust him again?”

I didn’t know how to answer this. I said he’d have to be consistently open, honest,  and respectful. How long it would take before I could feel safe and trust him is beyond me, though. 

“What happened after all of the rough patches that made you feel safe and secure?”

I told him about what his dad did to me,  and I don’t know what clicked in his mind,  but he started being the husband I needed all along. I told her about the time he threw my initial trauma in my face and blamed me for it.

“So he wasn’t loving and supportive of you when you told him about your first trauma,  but when you told him about what his dad did to you,  he was?”

Yes. 

We were almost out of time, and she told me to look up guided meditation on YouTube and practice it. 

I left the session feeling worse because her questions only added to my questions,  and the only answer was a fucking YouTube video. 

 I feel like therapy is pointless, but then again I’m feeling like everything I do is pointless. I need to swim back to the surface and find meaning in my life again. 

Has anyone tried guided meditation? If so, did you find it helpful? 

PTSD

The Purge

I remember everything. My husband was blessed with a poor memory, so he doesn’t recall a lot of the damage, but I remember everything. We are working on rebuilding our marriage, but I feel that in order for that to happen, I need to get some things off of my chest and out of my mind. 

When we would go to take the trips to visit his family, I was the one who would do all the packing and ensure everything was ready to go. One of the times he was griping at me for not having everything done, and (this was before he knew about what his dad did to me) I came to a breaking point. I told him that it wasn’t worth it-going through all of that and listening to him bitch-and that I wouldn’t be going with him next time. He said something about what his family says about me, and I said “Fuck your family! All they ever do is talk behind my back!” He flicked me really hard on the side of the head, and then started yelling at me when I began to cry.

On the way back from one of the trips, we stopped at a hotel for the night. The kids and I weren’t moving fast enough for him, and he was bitching. Our daughter threw up in the backseat as we were loading things up and getting ready to go. He slapped me in the back of the head as I was cleaning up her vomit. I didn’t cry, but I was angry, and I began to emotionally detach from him.

Shortly after we returned, he started looking through my Facebook. He saw that I complimented a transgender woman on her makeup, and got mad at me for referring to her as a her. He started accusing me of wanting a gay man and looking for other things that he could accuse me of. When there was nothing else, he started talking about my initial trauma and not only minimized it, but started blaming me for it. 

Who was this monster ranting and raving before me? I didn’t recognize him. When the conversation went back to the transgender woman, I referred to her as a  her again, and this time he slapped me in the back of the neck. 

I screamed because I was already having neck pain, and then I fell to the floor and sat balled up with my arms around my legs. This is the position I get into when my anxiety attacks begin. I was sobbing uncontrollably and he was still yelling and trying to justify his actions and words. I kept begging him to stop and to just go away. 

I remained detached from him for a long time after that. I began looking into divorce lawyers and apartments. I didn’t want to be with him anymore. 

Then, a while later, I told him about what his dad did to me. We grew closer,  and I thought for sure we’d be okay. That is until he told me about his infidelity which happened during the time he was treating me like dogshit. 

Now,  he doesn’t want to be the person he was. Now, I’m supposed to try to forget it all and take him at his word that he won’t hurt me anymore. I feel like the stupid woman I vowed I’d never be. I’m afraid to make him mad. I’m afraid I’m not measuring up. I wonder if he’s afraid at all. 

Maybe the fact I’ve stuck around through it all will make him think that I will stick around after he has one more episode because “it hasn’t happened in a long time.” I want to believe him. I want to give him a fair chance, but I have so much hurt and my heart is too guarded to let him in completely. 

Maybe this purge will help to get it out of my mind. One can only hope. 

PTSD

Heavy heart

Oh heavy heart

Why do you grieve so? 

You are loved by 

More people than you know. 

You are never as alone

As you may feel.

In fact, this empty loneliness 

Isn’t real. 

Your mind is playing tricks

It’s the devil’s game. 

He gets in the head 

To make the heart feel the same. 

So lift yourself up, 

Oh heavy heart of mine. 

This won’t last forever,

And one day,

You will be fine. 

PTSD

I had the best mother in law.

For a while you were the mother I didn’t have. You introduced me to Christ, and taught me new recipes. You supported and prayed for me, and we shared tears and laughter. You understood how I felt when your son would upset me. You would apologetically tell me he’s “just like his daddy”.

In fact, the first piece of advice you gave me was to train him to not be like his father. I didn’t even know you for a week then, so I didn’t know what you meant, but now I do.

You’re still my mother in law because I’m still married to your son, but you aren’t the woman I remember…or maybe you are. 

I remember you standing up to your husband when he was being his narcissistic and abusive self. Maybe that was because you found strength to do so with me being there. I’ve seen firsthand how he plays the victim when people call him out on his shit. 

I thought you would believe and support me, now that I’ve come out about him assaulting me in my sleep. You came in the room when you heard me yell out “what the fuck?!”, when I woke up. Perhaps you are too afraid to speak out against him because you know how he tries to turn people against all who do. 

Whether you’re in denial or just afraid because you have to live with him, you aren’t the mother in law I remember. When you were, you were the best one anyone could ask for. 

PTSD

Morning flashback

I was blessed and cursed with the long term memory of an elephant and the short term of a goldfish. At times, I’ll find myself so frustrated because I misplace my phone and I’ll be on the damned thing. I may get appointments mixed up and forget names, but by golly I can tell you what my cake looked like on my third birthday. It had Big Bird on it with a yellow border and a white background, in case you were wondering.

This morning I find myself running on maybe three solid hours of sleep. My mind went back to when I found out who took the picture of me. The piece of shit standing at attention in my chief’s office, and all I could say was, “It was you?!”

I try to take control of the flashbacks by changing my reactions. This morning I envisioned myself smashing the son of a bitch in the back of the head with a paper weight and giving him a solid knee to the groin. Instead, I remembered how he casually said he was drunk, but was able to recall everything that had happened. I can’t remember anything after leaving the table to use the restroom that day. 

The rage took over me as I began to try to look him up. 

I’m going to make him pay. I’ll go fuck up his car, or…wait. 

I couldn’t remember his name! This was a victory for several reasons. Next thing I know, the birds start singing and the sun comes up. By the time his name popped into my mind, I’d realized I had wasted entirely too much time and energy trying to remember it in the first place.