Imprisoned In My Terror

Panic

I apologized for his behavior.  Why did I write that letter to our guests blaming myself for his loud, angry, and demeaning outburst?  It was happening yet again – the frightening anger.

There was a fearful look in my son’s eyes in the bedroom as he cowered on the bed while his father screamed and displayed a physically threatening stance.  I was responding with immobilization because I didn’t know what to do at that time.  How could I fight back and show a mother’s guard and respond while an audience was near?  The hair on the back of my neck was standing up.  My panic and the pounding of my heart ensued.  I was screaming out loud with no voice, unable to make any sound.

He was out of control and I was unable to maintain the environment around me.  I was only able to freeze with a gnawing anxiety in the pit of my stomach.  My head was spinning with possible responses that they could say or do.  There could be the ultimate response yet again of the Department of Social Services being alerted.  I withdrew and could not fight at that moment.  The fear was overwhelming.  There was no way to cover up the viciousness of his anger.  All they said that night was, “Is everything alright in the bedroom?  Can we do anything?”.

Would they see the abuse, and would there be negative consequences?  Why did I later feel the need to write that letter and apologize and blame myself for my response to (basically) HIS behavior?  In the letter, I said “I’m sorry for my behavior.  I wasn’t feeling like myself”.  This panic showed its ugly head time and time again.  Always being on guard was my way of life.

Thankful Assurance

crosswalk

 

There is ALWAYS a reason to be THANKFUL.

I am thankful for each new day that begins.  I am thankful that I have learned from the dark clouds, and that the skies are becoming brighter.  I am thankful for the challenges that have made me stronger, and I am thankful for the compassion that I’ve attained because of those storms.  And  I am thankful to God for the plan that is unfolding in my life.  And I am thankful that God is guiding me even when I am blind.

 

The Anger of PTSD

Knock the wind out of me

Living with the anger is a difficult thing to do.  The everyday pain and remembrance of the traumas seem at times too much to bear.  Even going on with my life to this day, many years later, sometimes causes so much bitterness that I’m still dealing with the after-effects.

Yes, I need to get over it, but how.  The thought of once again raising a child can be so joyous, then the monster reignites.  The trauma and fear resurfaces.

Living with Emotional Abuse and Violence in my former marriage and now PTSD  has not been an easy task, especially when it started at the young age that I began dealing with it.  I should have been clued in when I saw my ex-husband (then boyfriend) and his father choking each other that one day.  How do people act this way?

Releasing the anger and fear – the damn fear – is exhausting.  To move on in my life and possibly go down a new road with my husband, I have to move past this.  It enrages me that I’m still living with this.