Breakup, alcohol, and PTSD... what fun
So, I’m sort of having a difficult time today. I’m going through a break-up with my partner of eleven years, and that is difficult in and of itself. We are still living with each other for the time being and so I have to deal with his emotions on top of my own. It was co-dependent relationship. He’s a binge drinker, who battles depression and I think he has some form of a mental disorder. I’m not sure what, but I’ve sort of ignored it for a long time. I guess I just love the person I know he truly is so deeply that I’ve tried to be patient and tolerant with him. I hoped that he’d pull through it, I have faith in him, but in eleven years, he really has not changed much and his problems/our problems seem to be standing out more and more. In addition to all this, he’s much older than I am and that gets to be a bigger problem as the years progress.
I’m so co-dependent it isn’t even funny. I guess it comes from having had a mentally ill mother that I tried to take care of; I always tried to help her, and hoped that she would become well again. I’ve been the same way with my husband. And though my dad was thought to be the healthy parent, he was much sicker than my mom ever was. Sexually abusive, manipulative, deceitful; he was a complete socio-path. Yet, I didn’t see him that way… I only acknowledged when he was kind and told myself everything was alright. I learned at a very young age how to disassociate and live in denial. I never stopped doing that. It’s carried right over into my adult life. I’ve seen the problems with my partner, but just went on minimalizing those problems. His problems aren’t nearly as bad as my parents were, and he comforted and loved me more than anyone ever had. So, I’ve just pushed on even though things were not right.
I scares me how am capable of doing this. My step daughter told me last summer that an older man, family friend, made an inappropriate advance at her. I told her it was wrong and thanked her for telling me, but I didn’t do anything about it. It’s terrible, but I actually forgot about it. I tucked it away into that place in my mind where all the stuff I can’t deal with goes. I’ve done that with sexual abuse my whole life. Hmmm, could Dad be abusing the neighbor kids, my friends, his girlfriend’s children…. The signs were there, but I tucked them away someplace where memories disappear so that everything could be fine. It’s very hard to realize how much I have done this. I came out of denial about my childhood last fall and likewise came out of denial about all these other things. It’s been a difficult year.
Since that happened my relationship has started going down-hill. My partner has supported me very little. I’ve be rediscovering this lost piece of myself, and he just wants her to go away. As sad as it is, I need to move on with my life. I need to heal myself and be the person I truly am. It doesn’t look like he is going to come with me on that journey, so now, on top of everything else, I’m alone. I look forward to a better future, but it’s still hard.
Yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day, which meant partying at my house. I’m not a drinker; my Dad was an alcoholic and I can’t even stand the smell of beer. I drink wine on occasion, but almost never get drunk. I don’t like feeling out of control. I used to just hang out and party anyway, smoke pot, but I’m not doing that anymore. So my ex had friends over drinking and I just stayed in my room. They were all much too wasted by the time I came home; I didn’t even want to deal with it. As the night progressed, everyone got louder, things were being knocked over, a chair was broken…. I laid in bed and had a bad episode of post-traumatic stress. All the drinking was going on and then someone would walk down the hall to use the bathroom. I’d hear the footsteps getting closer and panic.
I don’t remember very clearly, but I believe my dad was a great deal more abusive when drunk. I remember being upstairs in my room as a child and hearing dad come home. We could always tell when he was drunk. Mom and dad would always get into it, yelling at each other, things banging around downstairs. Nothing stands out very clearly, but it’s just the general feelings that I recall. I seem to remember the cops being called one night. That was not the first time they were at my house. They would always come and go; nothing happened. I remember one Halloween when my parents were fighting downstairs. I remember that it was “bad,” but I don’t remember why. We went to stay with my Grandma for a few days. It’s so frustrating to me that I still lay in bed and feel panicked, though I’m not even clear as to why I feel this way. But, it was so unnerving. I can tell I’m not going to be around people getting drunk any longer. I was really scared last night. I knew I was fine, I’ve been through several parties…. But I felt unsafe, everyone was out of control, something bad could happen…
Then at one thirty in the morning, either a drunk neighbor or a poacher was nearby shooting off a shot gun (three times). That really didn’t help any.
I’m trying to push through my day at work today, but I had to stop to just feel what is going on inside. I’m trying to ignore it and it isn’t working; now that I have written it down, perhaps I can get back to work?
I’m so co-dependent it isn’t even funny. I guess it comes from having had a mentally ill mother that I tried to take care of; I always tried to help her, and hoped that she would become well again. I’ve been the same way with my husband. And though my dad was thought to be the healthy parent, he was much sicker than my mom ever was. Sexually abusive, manipulative, deceitful; he was a complete socio-path. Yet, I didn’t see him that way… I only acknowledged when he was kind and told myself everything was alright. I learned at a very young age how to disassociate and live in denial. I never stopped doing that. It’s carried right over into my adult life. I’ve seen the problems with my partner, but just went on minimalizing those problems. His problems aren’t nearly as bad as my parents were, and he comforted and loved me more than anyone ever had. So, I’ve just pushed on even though things were not right.
I scares me how am capable of doing this. My step daughter told me last summer that an older man, family friend, made an inappropriate advance at her. I told her it was wrong and thanked her for telling me, but I didn’t do anything about it. It’s terrible, but I actually forgot about it. I tucked it away into that place in my mind where all the stuff I can’t deal with goes. I’ve done that with sexual abuse my whole life. Hmmm, could Dad be abusing the neighbor kids, my friends, his girlfriend’s children…. The signs were there, but I tucked them away someplace where memories disappear so that everything could be fine. It’s very hard to realize how much I have done this. I came out of denial about my childhood last fall and likewise came out of denial about all these other things. It’s been a difficult year.
Since that happened my relationship has started going down-hill. My partner has supported me very little. I’ve be rediscovering this lost piece of myself, and he just wants her to go away. As sad as it is, I need to move on with my life. I need to heal myself and be the person I truly am. It doesn’t look like he is going to come with me on that journey, so now, on top of everything else, I’m alone. I look forward to a better future, but it’s still hard.
Yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day, which meant partying at my house. I’m not a drinker; my Dad was an alcoholic and I can’t even stand the smell of beer. I drink wine on occasion, but almost never get drunk. I don’t like feeling out of control. I used to just hang out and party anyway, smoke pot, but I’m not doing that anymore. So my ex had friends over drinking and I just stayed in my room. They were all much too wasted by the time I came home; I didn’t even want to deal with it. As the night progressed, everyone got louder, things were being knocked over, a chair was broken…. I laid in bed and had a bad episode of post-traumatic stress. All the drinking was going on and then someone would walk down the hall to use the bathroom. I’d hear the footsteps getting closer and panic.
I don’t remember very clearly, but I believe my dad was a great deal more abusive when drunk. I remember being upstairs in my room as a child and hearing dad come home. We could always tell when he was drunk. Mom and dad would always get into it, yelling at each other, things banging around downstairs. Nothing stands out very clearly, but it’s just the general feelings that I recall. I seem to remember the cops being called one night. That was not the first time they were at my house. They would always come and go; nothing happened. I remember one Halloween when my parents were fighting downstairs. I remember that it was “bad,” but I don’t remember why. We went to stay with my Grandma for a few days. It’s so frustrating to me that I still lay in bed and feel panicked, though I’m not even clear as to why I feel this way. But, it was so unnerving. I can tell I’m not going to be around people getting drunk any longer. I was really scared last night. I knew I was fine, I’ve been through several parties…. But I felt unsafe, everyone was out of control, something bad could happen…
Then at one thirty in the morning, either a drunk neighbor or a poacher was nearby shooting off a shot gun (three times). That really didn’t help any.
I’m trying to push through my day at work today, but I had to stop to just feel what is going on inside. I’m trying to ignore it and it isn’t working; now that I have written it down, perhaps I can get back to work?
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