Visiting hell at night

  
Last night S told me he didn’t want to separate. It wasn’t  a passionate, considered declaration. It was mentioned in passing, like asking if I’d moved the coffee table. I couldn’t take his comment with any depth. In fact I felt defensive, angry and confused. The conversation quickly moved on to planning our son’s birthday in the new year. I can’t cope with mixed messages, contradictory statements and trying to fathom what’s going on in his head. I’m tired, I’m hurt, I’m trying to move on. He hasn’t said or done anything to convince me that he actually loves me and doesn’t want this separation. The letter didn’t blind side him, I told him what I was doing. He’s known all along. My gut feeling is that it is what he wants, but he’s scared. As I have been, to accept its over. To accept we can’t carry on as we are.
Job rejections kept floating in on email. I’d had a busy day, another tip run causing pain in my neck and shoulder. Cleaning my car thoroughly, taking the kids for haircuts. Physically I was drained but emotionally i felt rejected and full of shame.

An attack, a domestic abusive relationship, a marriage breakdown and not finding work. The one common denominator – me. Even my parents don’t love or care for me. The feeling of being an unwanted, unloved and more than just a square peg in a round hole. An outright rejection of society. Someone that will never fit in.

As the cloud of depression and sadness crept over me, I decided to grab yet another early night. Away from everyone. I took two sleeping pills and longed for a quiet decent sleep.

It didn’t come. I had torturous nightmares, being pinned down, being attacked, being terrified, screaming for help. Memories of childhood, memories of the attack, memories being held against my will. My mind pushed to wake up and in a half wake state I was screaming out for my husband. But he was deep asleep on the couch. I couldn’t move my limbs, I’d fall back into a horrible dream of terror and scream out as my brain fought to wake. I was literally lying in the bed feeling pinned down. My body not my own, demons of my past holding me down, doing what they wanted. Occasionally I could see people in my dream, my mother, friends at that time. I pleaded for help but they just stood back. Sometimes I knew what was coming and tried vehemently to fight what I thought was actually happening, no sense of past or present. But in every scenerio I lost and had to experience it all again.

Frankly as nightmares go and the terror and fears and memories have tortured me over the years – this was an experience so terrifying I’ve not had anything like it for a long time. I can’t remember being so vividly confused and out of control. 

Eventually I was able to push my body into an almost wake state, my head pounding painfully as though hungover. I staggered out to my husband, asking for help. He was very deep asleep but he joined me in bed and a bit uncomfortably held me. I cried a little, but sleep was dragging me back. The nightmares didn’t return, but dreams of trying to get to places and not being able, walking over dangerous bridges were my continued dreams. I don’t remember my husband waking and getting ready for work. Although my migraine was excruciating. I did ask if he could drive the kids to school – but he said he couldn’t he was too busy for work.

Blinded in one eye, nauseous and exhausted with the feeling that my body was dirty and not really mine, I drove the kids to school and stopped at a chemist for migraine medication. I was too tired and in too much pain not to sleep. Although I was scared.

The glacier was waiting to repair two damaged Windows, I waited impatiently for him to finish. No privacy and polite chatter.

Finally I fell into bed and slept. But the house was such a god awful mess from the kids. Cereal bowls, spilt milk, clothes and laundry strewn over the floor. I can’t rest with such total chaos. So in the end I got up to organise, to tidy away, to load the dishwasher to wipe surfaces and put things away. My need for control and order in the house has grown. As it seems I have no control in any other aspect of my life.

The migraine is a dull thud. It would come back full force if I’m not careful. I’ve had bad attacks since my accident but never a migraine so powerful and debilitating for a long time.

Some images from the nightmares will filter through my mind. The fear less gripping but the sense of loneliness and helplessness is present. I text S to thank him for his support in the night.

It’s a miserable wet day, not particularly summer like, but I’ve been cold to the bones. I’ve had the heat pump blasting all day and I’m wrapped in blankets. 

My phone is on silent today. I’m not able to speak to anyone, deal with more rejections or handle anything else. I don’t want to go out. 

I don’t know if it’s accumulated stress that has caused this, maybe I was due a really bad night, maybe all of my hurt has snowballed and my brain processes it in the most horrible of ways.

But I feel shaken to my core.

I had to rely on S for comfort when he’s not really there for me. I was reminded that essentially I am alone. The child in me feels stirred and frightened. I’m not even sure who I am anymore.

I’ll give myself today, to rest and heal, but I need to remain on point. Focussed and self assured.

So I may be the cause of my own fucked up life, but I don’t believe I asked for this pain. And I believe I can get through it. After all, I am my only advocate. 

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3 thoughts on “Visiting hell at night

  1. You are so incredible. I am inspired by you’re ability to ask yourself to keep moving forward. Pour as much love into yourself as you can. Stay hydrated, stay well-fueled. Take a shower or do something you love. You are your best tool. I wish you well.

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  2. Your strength & endurance inspires me so often. I know the very real, physical pain of nightmares that wash over & drain you… Mine, too, bring on migraines. I’m so sorry for the battles you face & I pray for control, strength and time to love yourself as you travel this journey. You are never alone…

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