I had an epiphany today.....

Wondering how others can still function and keep their head on straight when others cross boundaries and are offensive or abandon me, I realized that this last few days of “facing the music” after solidifying boundaries with my primary abuser I have been tense....like physically tense and I found it difficult to breathe. My brain sought distractions. I was in fight or flight mode - leaving the house whenever I could and practicing mom conversations in my head around the clock. I have not been okay. It occurred to me that this whole conversation with him, him saying no I won’t respect your boundaries, had me triggered. And it made me consider all the other times in my life that I’ve been at my worst and people haven’t understood.....when I’ve cried so hard and people couldn’t understand my heart when I answered their kind concerned questions. Crossing boundaries alone is a trigger. I came to this conclusion because of the thought “it’s like I’m living it all over again...” 

This weekend it’s not just been that but also this fear that if anyone knew I’m divorcing my husband and keeping my kids from their surely they’d tell me I’m the problem, especially if they “know” my husband or her uncle. It’s been anticipatory anxiety for what others will think. And my accountability partner tells me often, who cares what they think. The only opinion that matters isn’t Gods.

I struggle with wanting people to like me because I’m the one no one ever liked. My brother hated me. My mom didn’t protect me and was ashamed of me - because I was fat and because I was a girl and because it was all my fault (not really but that’s how she treated me and that’s something I had to unlearn). My Dad wasn’t there. When he was my brother had him red hot and furious. When I was in high school they brought in a church member to have a family meeting about boundaries and I was required to leave the house. I was briefed afterwards and told that Dad could not call us morons anymore or make fun of our friends. I don’t remember what else was discussed but none of it involved me, except all of it did. They told me what I would and would not soon be experiencing but didn’t give me a chance to say a word. I have never been encouraged to have a voice. It’s amaxing that I ever found one. But I did, even while living with them. They didn’t listen to it. “I need help,” I said and they turned their backs. “I’m struggling,” and they were literally silent. “I’m upset my cough is worse and I don’t know what to do,” my mom literally asked why I was calling her. This was not some cold but a five month long cough that was misdiagnosed as whooping cough among other things. It was bad. It’s a lifelong recurring struggle. That year I developed allergies to dozens of things and had an asthma attack before anyone told me I had allergies. I sounded awful. I could hardly talk and my own mother asked why I was calling her about it....to vent. Sobbing over the hurt led to my first experience in not being able to breathe. I went to the hospital that night and she showed up acting like everything was fine. She was mad that I wouldn’t let her back with me. I once had a voice and I learned that using it with them did very little so I used it with people who I thought were or paid to be trustworthy safe humans (counselors). I mastered my voice. And I lost it and ever other piece of myself in this marriage. 

Theres a where do I go from here question in my heart. The answer seems to be that knowing is half the battle, talk yourself through what you do know. Hope it works....