Someone asked me recently why I write so much about my ex
and all the things he put me through in 14 years together (plus the six years
after we separated). I think the rationale was, it’s been 21 years since we
separated, so why keep talking about it? Good question.
I’ve mentioned PTSD before. I know most people associate
this disorder with combat veterans, and by no means do I suggest that my
experiences look anything like theirs, for which I am grateful. But having PTSD
means that finding yourself in a situation that is just similar enough to the
real-life nightmares you’ve had can cause unpleasant symptoms as you find
yourself right back there, figuratively.
Yes, I have been free for 21 years. There was only one
occasion after our separation that I literally faced the fear of having my
ex-husband spitting threats and profanity in my face, but at that time my
now-husband was there within ten seconds to get between us. That moment raised
him to the level of hero in my eyes. I tease him that all he really has to do
is breathe in order to be a better husband, but how blessed am I that he doesn’t
just stop there?
My friends as well as those I don’t know, it does get
better. It is so hard to walk away. To this day I have an inner struggle in
which I have to remind myself AGAIN that I was the victim and never the
perpetrator. Despite his words to the contrary, his actions were not my fault.
You need, you MUST have that talk with yourself. You may actually be really annoying or
touch all the buttons, but the minute his (or her!) anger or irritation becomes
emotional and/or physical abuse, a decision has been made. My hubby now
literally will leave the house when we are discussing…okay, arguing, and it
gets to the point where he can’t stand being in the same room with me. I hate
that. And I love that.
Part of the healing for me is to remember and then put it
out there so that it’s not just festering in my brain. This is part of my
journey, like it or not. I wish I had not had to travel it so long, but it’s
my past. I am grateful to have found my soft landing who helps protect me from the
sharp corners of life, especially as I continue to be abused by a dead man
because his family members still cause me harm in ways unimaginable. I’m
currently reassessing and rewriting who I am because I am not who I thought I
would be at this ripe old age. Much like her being chosen as homecoming queen
caused our daughter to wonder if she might just be liked by others, I look at
the wonderful friends I have who continue to support me and give me positive
feedback, recognizing how blessed I really am to have them. Maybe I’m not so
bad after all, right?
Let me end with these words:
It is my job to like myself and to find myself worthy of the fight every
single day. While others certainly do affect how I feel, I cannot let them
affect how I view myself as a person. I cannot give them that power. Those who support my being able to see the best in myself are the best kind of people to surround me.
I am still a Daughter of God. Always have been and always
will be. And if you are a woman, so are you. And the guys, you are Sons of God.
Be patient with yourselves. Do not be afraid to speak out about what has
happened to you (and please don’t make it up – I really hate that). Be honest.
Completely honest. The only way awful things can be overcome is by taking them
out of the darkness and exposing them to the light.
You have read this far – I love you for that.
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