The first rule of trauma is that nobody talks about trauma. Not with any depth. Just in passing, like trauma is nothing more than a childhood case of chicken pox.
Healing, for me, has looked like finally acknowledging that I have CPTSD. That my childhood was unstable. That D was/is abusive and that completely knocked me to my knees but I couldn't label it or deal with it because I didn't have the ability to make it stop. I regret so much I tried to keep the peace when what I needed to do is hire a lawyer and make it all stop.
Healing wasn't going to be possible while parenting because parenting is like having a parasite, especially when all your resources are going to supporting this kid and trying to parent while your ex husband is undermining you at every turn.
Healing wasn't possible when Nathan first left because I had no idea what the fuck was going on. I still don't know how I managed to survive 2018.
2019. I started therapy and for the first time I had a therapist who was invested in me, not just someone taking my money and saying 'that sounds really hard'. I started a job that wasn't in a toxic non profit workplace. I started talking about trauma. I realized that there were people in my life I could trust, who were invested in me, who kept on showing up. I'm still amazed at these people who keep on showing up. I set some boundaries with N. I put some distance in my relationship with my parents and started seeing them for who they really are and how they contributed to the damage.
I'm healing. In some ways, I'm healed. The freshest of scar tissue covering the more basic wounds. Still tending to the deep wounds that are so deep that I'm still trying to figure out just how deep they are. Still learning Every.Single.Day about what makes me tick, and how CPTSD plays in. Getting to a better place.
Healing wasn't going to be possible while parenting because parenting is like having a parasite, especially when all your resources are going to supporting this kid and trying to parent while your ex husband is undermining you at every turn.
Healing wasn't possible when Nathan first left because I had no idea what the fuck was going on. I still don't know how I managed to survive 2018.
2019. I started therapy and for the first time I had a therapist who was invested in me, not just someone taking my money and saying 'that sounds really hard'. I started a job that wasn't in a toxic non profit workplace. I started talking about trauma. I realized that there were people in my life I could trust, who were invested in me, who kept on showing up. I'm still amazed at these people who keep on showing up. I set some boundaries with N. I put some distance in my relationship with my parents and started seeing them for who they really are and how they contributed to the damage.
I'm healing. In some ways, I'm healed. The freshest of scar tissue covering the more basic wounds. Still tending to the deep wounds that are so deep that I'm still trying to figure out just how deep they are. Still learning Every.Single.Day about what makes me tick, and how CPTSD plays in. Getting to a better place.
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