PTSD

"I remember when my heart broke.
I remember when I gave up loving you.
My heart couldn't take no more of you.
I was sad and lonely.
I remember when I walked out."
~ Keyshia Cole - I Remember 

Last night I had a dream about my ex-boyfriend. I don’t remember the specifics but I woke up not so happy that his face, his voice, his presence was almost tangible.  

It’s been a year and four months since we parted ways yet every now and then when I’m driving or even around the house, I’ll hear his words audibly. Occasionally, I’ll be doing something I remember irritated him and or catch myself trying NOT to do something that irritated him. In those moments I have to remind myself I’m liberated to be ME. One weekend not so long ago, something prompted pondering on some things he’d said to me. Then I noticed I started second guessing and even berating myself over his comments. I began to question myself. Sincerely question myself. Am I doing everything I can be doing to better my life? I’m not creative enough. Previous decisions I’ve made in my life, is there something wrong with me that I made that mistake; that my thought pattern would lead to that specific decision. I could go on since this carried on over the course of an entire Saturday.  

That night, I felt a melancholy heaviness that made me sad. I kept trying to figure out where I’d experienced it before because it felt familiar. Then I realized…that’s how I used to feel when I lived with him.  

I used to try and encourage him to get help for his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) thinking that would help him to be kinder and not react in such a volatile manner.  I thought if he could recognize what he was doing, he could correct it. I learned over time that you can’t expect a narcissistic person to ever hear, understand, recognize or concede to your point of view or or what you have to say. I realized I have PTSD. I already knew that, but it I saw it more clearly.  

I’ve started recognizing the “triggers” that set off an explosion of self-doubt and feelings of insecurity. I just wonder if it will ever not happen. Will I ever stop having flashbacks that emotionally transport me back “there”? I’ll be fine for a long period of time or the distance between occurrences gets greater and then there will be an onslaught of attacks back to back. There is no pattern or rhythm to predict when it’s going to happen. There are times when I feel like if I could only get him to understand this or acknowledge that I’d feel somewhat validated and the visitations will stop. I know better.  

Last night, I had dinner with an old friend I used to work with in Austin. We hadn’t had an in-depth conversation since pre-breakup so of course she wanted to know, “What happened!?!?” Before I started to answer she said, “I already know he was mean to you and would say hurtful things that would make you cry in your office when you thought we didn’t know.” Wow. Ya, I remember that too.  

I gave her the abbreviated version but mentally, I recounted our relationship. So many times I should have left. Why didn’t I? I was actually embarrassed the more I thought about it. Everyone knew I was with someone like this of my own free will. I was one of those women I’ve talked about. You know, the nice woman that is with an asshole and continually makes excuses for him.  

I remember the moment when I realized I had to get out, I had to leave. It was six months before I actually left but I did it. I’ve had health issues all my life. The doctors say it’s because I had meningitis when I was 6 months old; that I survived but the side effects would surface in regards to my immune system. That said, I’ve had repeated issues with my reproductive organs. I decided to do some fertility testing just to make sure everything was ok. The results were not good; have a baby now or never, you are turning 35 but your eggs are 42 and few & far between. Ouch. Gut punch. I didn’t really expect something THIS wrong. When I got the results, he was out of town so I wanted to wait until he returned to discuss everything. When he got back, he put me off for a week. Asked if we could talk about it over the weekend; he had tests to study for.  

We finally have the conversation Saturday night and he makes jokes about it. Once he realizes I’m upset he stops. The next day there wasn’t much discussion about it. The following Monday he called me while I was on my way to work. He told me he was sick and tired of me moping around the apartment and that my gloom cloud was getting on his nerves. He said I was like the cartoon character that had a cloud that followed him. He went on to tell me how I needed to suck it up, get over it and quit crying. Said he’d only seen his mother cry once under more severe circumstances so what the @#E% was I crying about. Then…he said, “Besides, if you can’t have any kids, it’s your own damn fault. When you were younger you said you didn’t want to have any more kids so that’s on you. You did that to yourself and have no one to be mad at but yourself. That’s on you and God.” (He was yelling the whole time and I edited out alllllllllllll the profanity”) 

At this point, I’m already at work in the parking garage bawling. I finally just hung up the phone and turned it off to stop the verbal assault. I parked in the back of the parking garage, laid in the backseat and probably cried for two hours. I did have a conversation with God but it was about how I knew I needed to leave. How could someone be that cruel to someone they love?  

No matter how messed up my life may feel at the moment, doctor appointments, bills, money, walls closing in, nothing is as bad as the oppression I felt living there. I am so glad I left. I’m not beating myself up about not doing it sooner anymore, just glad I did it at all. More than that, I’m glad I am certain of my worth and know I deserve better. I’m sure in time the remembrances will happen less and less…at least I hope so. I just want him out of my head.