3 a m and wide awake with a tight chest, racing thoughts, feelings of hopelessness . . . .
anxiety creeps in and I can no longer sleep or even rest. I walk outside in my bathrobe onto the deck in the chilly night just to try to relax and breathe. I whimper, and pray the best I can to let go of and surrender to LOVE the anxiety that has swept over me . . .
It all began . . . .
Last night as I told my spouse that I can't live in our current residence any longer !
A series of events preceded this dilemma . . . .
Five years ago my Dad died (yes, my abuser) and mom came to live with us for nearly 2 years until my older brother moved her out for his own ulterior reasons.We lost our home 3 years ago after I left my job due to a harrassing boss; my spouse started a construction company at the same period of time in a sinking economy.
Everything caved in on us all at once !
We moved from 2400 SF into a cozy 500 SF granny flat connected to my nephew's expansive home above us on a lovely hillside overlooking the city. I knew that we wouldn't stay for long, yet 3 years have already passed.
Have I already said that I am a compulsive cleaner and need order to feel peaceful in my environment ???
Living with my spouse, a dog, a cat my spouse and the property impacted with construction tools I often feel irritable and clostrophobic.
Last night as I drove home I was dreading our conversation, knowing it wouldn't be pleasant.
A little piece of history . . . .
My spouse was raised in Belgium by his grandparents because his parents were both factory workers who didn't own a car so he only saw them on weekends. Needless to say, some unresolved issues . . .
As soon as I shared my frustration, he became defensive. I was too abrupt when I said that I can't stand it anymore and basically said that we HAVE to move ! Things progressed downhill quickly, without going into the ugly details.
I want to preface this confession with the fact that both J and I are a thoughtful and generous couple who work together helping others and making creative projects, the positive aspect of our relationship. He is well loved by everyone we know; and most of the time I feel happy with our marriage. Before our moved, I was able to compartmentalize the STUFF into rooms and the garage and didn't feel overwhelmed.
One major weakness in our relationship is that our communication SUCKS !!!
As soon as I was accused of being selfish regarding details of the changes I want to make, my wounded heart perceived J as being my abusive, controlling, oppressive father who said that I would never make it without him. So the raging wounded child in me started YELLING for 5 minutes . . . .then I caught myself midstream and walked outside . . .
Called my daughter, took a bath and a sleep aid . . .
However . . . I awakened abruptly at 3 . . .
3 am is the witching hour for me . . . this is the time I was consistently yanked out of bed to be taken to another place of horrors . . .
Whenever I have a disagreement I tend to awaken at 3 am . . . no amount of journaling, therapy, and years of acknowledging and letting go of memories has healed this area completely. Yet, I experience a far less degree of anxiety and don't use anti-anxiety medications any more. Step by step . . .
Knowing full well that the wounded child in me is terrified I am at times unable to console her. No amount of reassurance that she is in a safeplace will lull her into reverie.
Thankfully, the one key mantra for me that is working is that I consciously start thinking about other children that I know who are suffering. When I begin praying for their safety and healing I am able to calm myself better and usually can slumber again.
I know that in time I will learn better to communicate because I already have made improvements. But once PTSD sets in, the road out is very difficult.
In retrospect I could have approached this need in a positive way by suggesting that we set of goal of 6 months, saving enough money for the cost of moving. Instead, I sabotaged myself by making an ultimatum.
I am humbled by my woundedness and pray that I will continue to heal in this area so that I may be a more loving and reasonable partner.
One day at a time, sometimes one step at a time - moving forward means learning to take care of yourself and learning to communicate with those who love us so that we don't exclude them from our healing. They see us hurting. They deserve to see us in joy as well. It will happen. You have the courage to keep going. These relapses show us how far we have come. Give yourself credit for that. They also show us the areas that we still need to work on. You have the strength to keep moving.
ReplyDelete