Triggers and past tense

I had to wait for money I’d asked for from my ex husband to clear in my account so I could fill up my sluggish car with petrol. 

I’d had just enough to drop the kids off, but probably pissed everyone off with my nana driving back home.

Waiting around the house, I saw Dr PHIL was on TV and the episode was about Cosby and the accusers. The pain and trauma that these women feel was palable through the tv. I cried in parts. Some of the women in their late sixties still suffering the trauma from assaults in their early years. I wondered what my (now) house mate/ex husband would think about that. If they should be over it. If their respective partners or husbands were fed up of the ongoing support and understanding they needed. In seeing these women, I felt once again validated. I have done so much to overcome my own fears and trauma and yet, to my once confidante – it’s not enough. He’s reached his limit. I don’t begrudge him for that. I was the one that first heard ‘compassion fatigue’ and told him I understood his position. That said, I don’t believe there can be an expiration date on grief. Particularly as my court case is still sitting somewhere in limbo with a lawyer that’s clearly more interested in high profile cases. 

I felt a little raw, but I had an appointment at the family planning clinic in the city for the depo injection. It stops my periods and as periods can trigger me, I find it really helpful. I don’t like going to the clinic because it reminds of the assault – yes, even years later. But I want to keep my intimate health seperate from my GP.

In the clinic were vivid posters explaining consent and some pictures. I tried to look away, but knowing these images were plastered all over the wall – didn’t help my cause.

I was seen by a dr (female) brief summary taken and then I received the shot.

As usual, I get very bad cramping afterwards. I usually prefer to rest and shutdown after the appointments because I don’t like the feeling orexperience. The pay off is that it doesn’t last more than a day and saves me the monthly agony of periods.

However, as I headed out, my friend called. She sounded very emotional, she felt she was ‘losing it’ after a week of triggers. I offered to go straight to her place.

She was tired, sad, confused, emotional. We sat and talked over coffee. I listened and offered support and advice. She’s a good friend.

Often she’d ask if she sounded crazy talking about triggers, expressing her fear and issues. It all sounded totally reasonable to me. Fortunately she has the support of a loving partner. 

I drove home and within 20 minutes the kids got home with their father.

I’m still cramping and have put my feelings from today aside. There is no place for them here.

I have come to my room to lie down though. My stomach feels terribly bloated and I’m restless with anxiety.

The relationship with my ex hasn’t involved me communicating my nightmares or anxieties about my past for some time. So it’s not new territory to be suffering in silence. In retrospect he stopped caring and being open to that side of me a long time ago.

It’s yet another example of our division. His resistance to see and hear me, my progress and the things that hinder me.

I’m going to manage this alone. I am alone and this is my future. I am not scared by this. But I am determined to keep moving. There is peace for me at the end. I just have to get there.


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