Overwhelmed; Regrettable Actions

This month is a loaded one. We celebrate so many birthdays within my family, my spouse & mine included. We celebrate a wedding anniversary. And it's the month of Halloween which is a pretty big day for us. It's the end of a season, and the real beginning of winter for us. For me, it has always felt like a time of change, new beginnings, or endings. I feel like a lot of big moments, or weighted decisions tend to happen during this month. It's also a month that caused so much heartache last year. I haven't written much because this month has been a tough one for me to even get through. To the point that I feel like I'm reliving last October all over again. A lot of old feelings resurfaced, and I've actually seen some of the people who were involved with everything that took place before. Sometimes I catch myself feeling as if I'm grieving. As if time has stood still, and I'm right back to that night. To those days. To those weeks. To those months. I've been feeling like I'm steadily slipping back. And little did I know that there was a lot of anger simmering just beneath the surface. 

This past weekend a lot of stuff came to a head. I had been bottling up a lot of things recently. Trying to dismiss feelings, and just shutting everything out. "I'm fine." I would say. "Everything's great!" I'd proclaim. "No, I'm good, things couldn't be better!" I'd tell those that asked. All with a smile plastered across my face. But that only leads to bad things. And the fallout of the things I said, and the way I acted was almost unbearable. I was so embarrassed, and if I had been in my right mind (read: sober) I would have had better control of how I spoke. Of what I let get to me. Of how I chose to treat people. How I chose to treat him. I was appalling, and I regretted the majority of the venom I spewed out. Not because I felt it, but in the way that I let it be known. Verbally and physically. So for the past few days I've been trying to figure out what I need to do. How I need to get back into the right frame of mind. Because this was not it. I am NOT this person. I am so much better than that. I spoke to a counselor, which helped. I got my ass handed to me by the person I spoke to, and it was a nice reality slap that I needed. A lot of questions were thrown at me like: What if my daughter had been there to witness how I acted? What if someone had decided to call the cops on me? What if I had caused some major damage to myself? To others? There was no coming back from that. The consequences would have rippled to others in ways I couldn't possibly imagine. So I created a game plan. A layout for how I needed to tackle the next few days, and weeks to come. I was given some new coping skills to try out. I'll be removing alcohol from the picture. Working on being more communicative with others because holding it in is not healthy. I'll be setting up another appointment with my doctor, and counselor to get me back on some medication until I level out. I feel so humiliated. It's felt like not just a step back, but leaps and bounds backwards. I felt like the biggest failure. I felt like crap. Undeserving of forgiveness for all of the past I drudged up. I felt like complete shit for lack of a better word.

So, this week has been rough. My words, and actions were not okay. But I'm human. We make mistakes. When I was younger my counselors, and doctors would always tell me that these issues could pop up at any moment in my life. They wouldn't define me, but they could cause some serious damage if I didn't put in the work from time to time to keep them in check. If I didn't take care of myself the way I needed too. Last October those sentiments were echoed. "You need to learn how to control your thoughts. And you need to learn how to not let things/people have control over your emotions. Because if you don't, you'll be a ticking time bomb. Over and over again. This will only lead to setbacks. It'll cause you to question your progress. And it could set you right back down that dark path you've worked so hard to get off of." They were all right. This past weekend I learned just how easily I could be set off. How quickly things could escalate, and change again. I was reminded of just how dark I can be. But now, I'm working on it. I'm trying to get myself better. I don't want to be that person. I don't want these episodes to happen again. I don't want the outbursts. I don't want to allow others to control my emotions, or my reactions. I want to be at peace. I want to be calm. I want to be a good person. And I don't want to go through this again. 

*Before anyone, or if they've already started 

thinking in this direction: NO I have never,

nor would I ever, lash out at my daughter.

My reactions apply to adults only. 

Control

I have no idea how I ever let things get as bad as they did. Or have. I've come up with excuses like: "Love", "Duties", "Marriage", "Friendship", and "Anger". I've told myself countless times that they're just words. Sometimes they're necessary. They allow you to become thick skinned. They usually mean nothing to me because the person's opinion, who spews the hurtful words at me, doesn't matter. Doesn't affect me. "No skin off my nose," I say. But sometimes it's a bit jarring when the words come from someone you care about. Someone who you trust with your heart. It can feel a lot like sticking your hands into iced water. Sometimes that hurt causes you to crack. You feel deserving of that treatment. Of those words. Because here stands a person who holds your trust, and they wouldn't be breaking you down like this if it wasn't deserved, would they? And each time it happens, each time something is said, it feels like you're running your heart over splinters.

If you've been here with me for awhile, you know that it's been one hell of a year. You know how devastated I was. How awful I felt about the state of my marriage. You know about what I went through. And I've even given a few examples of the colorful words I had yelled at me repeatedly before. Y'all know. So when I started counseling, and my counselor told me that it was a form of abuse I just brushed it off. "They're just words Drew," I would say when he'd suggest it. My husband didn't mean what he was saying. He was just angry. He was just lashing out. He wasn't himself. Then I wrote this post about taking responsibility for your actions, and how some people would weigh in on the matter by dismissing what he had done (physically) on the grounds that he was not sober. My response was usually along the lines of "Well, now wait, that still doesn't make it okay. Maybe easier to forgive, but not okay." So why in the world was I making excuses for the verbal insults? You see, what I didn't mention then is how that particular treatment never stopped. How even sober those words would still get used. Before the separation, and even after we decided to try working through things. Maybe it wasn't as frequent as before. Maybe there were apologies given afterwards. But it never fully stopped. 

I can sit here, and make excuses until I'm blue in the face. I can sit here, and turn a blind eye like I've always done in the past. I can sit here, and proclaim love as the reason for why I tolerate it. Some would agree that I'm doing the right thing by working through this while others would want to shake me as they simultaneously tell me to run. "Go! Get away. Why would you put up with this?" And the honest to God truth is that I have no idea yet. Subconsciously, somewhere buried really fucking deep, is the answer. But I haven't dug far enough down to figure it out. I have no idea why I allow myself to stay rooted. I have no idea why the thought of ending my marriage left me so paralyzed with fear in the past. Or why I tell myself on the bad days that I'm trying for a reason: to make things work, and that won't happen overnight. I have no idea why I don't stand up for myself, or when I finally feel like I should raise my voice and yell "ENOUGH!" I bite my tongue instead. I bite down so hard in order to keep the words from spilling out, and I just let them sink into my bones. It's not because I wouldn't have a place to go, or a way to provide for myself and my daughter. I have both of those things. It's not because I feel that I deserve the treatment. I don't, and I know it. It's not because I view this as what love should be like. My parents taught me what love is supposed to be like, and it looks nothing like my relationship. So what then?

In my last session, my counselor told me it was a form of addiction. The way other people become addicted to drugs, alcohol, or pornography I've become attached to my spouse in the same way. I do not know how to separate him from me. For some reason my brain has rationalized that this is normal. I don't view it the same as physical abuse when it comes to my situation. That "thick skin" of mine allows me to dismiss what is being said just by rolling my eyes, and shoving it into a mental file box to be dealt with later. When it comes to others though it's a different story. In fact, I would be right there with everyone else telling the person in a similar situation as mine to "RUN. Go! Don't let them tear you apart like this!" But my blinders are on when it comes to myself. However, I've come to realize that my husband uses this behavior as a way to keep some form of power when he feels out of control. He uses this as a way to constantly remind me of my shortcomings so that he's not the only one to blame for things. When he says that I don't try enough, or do enough it's really about him. Not me. When he calls me names, or insults me it's about him needing to reassure himself that I am the problem. I am the person acting a certain way and if I would just stop he wouldn't have to call me names, or yell. Afterall, I should just be grateful that he came back right? Because I'm not enough for anyone else. Because I am difficult. I am boring. Because I don't "get over" things. Those are all the reasons I believe he chooses to look at in order to justify his need for me to be the submissive one. It wasn't until a few weeks ago when I was being called a "BITCH", and being told to "FUCK OFF" out of anger because I wasn't able to come up with a solution to a problem in time that it hit me.

I do not value myself. 

I put everyone else, and their well-being before my own. When it came to my spouse I still viewed him as being more important. I think I've said it before that I tiptoe around him. I try not to set him off for fear that he'll relapse, or that he'll stray again. I watch what I say because I don't want him to be angry. I have this knee jerk reaction to protect him too. I accept blame for things that I shouldn't. I am constantly wanting to make his life easier. I put the responsibility of keeping him content before all. Even before my daughter if I'm being honest. I allow her to hear his insults. I allow her to see me bending over backwards for a man who may not always deserve it. I allow her to see his outburst, and my attempts to defuse them. And even though my brain tells me that it's not right. That she shouldn't see this as normal. That I don't want that for her. I stay with my feet planted in that house. Oh, how it drives me up the wall that I allow this! That I easily dismiss this kind of behavior because it doesn't happen often. I'm ashamed of that. I'm so angry with myself for feeling defenseless when I know damn well I have power. I can have control too. I could finally speak up, and say "THAT'S ENOUGH!" I could put my foot down, and tell him to start playing by the rules we agreed to in the first place, or he can get the fuck out. I could walk out that damn door right now with our daughter at my side, and we'd be okay. I could move on from this, and live a good life without him in it. I know all of this. I was on the verge of doing all of this. And yet...I don't. I sit there with my hands in my lap, eyes on the floor, and my tongue between my teeth. I allow it.