Nightmares

I learned that the main reason I engage in ED behaviors is because in my head I believe that if I am fat then I will be less worthy and therefore people won’t value me. I still feel like I have to earn love.

In my head it looks something like this

If I eat until I’m full then I will gain weight. If I gain weight then I will lose some of my value and worth. By losing my value and worth I will be less worthy of love and I will lose people in my life. And then I will be alone.

Last night I had bad nightmares about failing. I couldn’t do ‘the thing’ and I was being judged and criticized. It really fed into my belief that my value is based on my performance.

I don’t really know how to combat that.

Stumbling Trough Life

I keep having nightmares. Last night it was that a dog tried to eat the teddy bear I’ve had since I was a kid. It made me feel like I had lost stability. This teddy bear, who has been with me practically my entire life, was taken from me. And I couldn’t do anything about it.

And that’s how I feel life has been recently.

Our home was taken from us last month. The building was sold and the new land lords said get rid of your pets or get out. So we’re getting out.

But we didn’t choose this. We were forced. Yes, we’re buying a house, but there was no excitement, no joy, no fun in the process. It was desperation. Panic.

To be honest I’m not sure that I ever wanted to own a house. I’d love land to get to be myself and do what makes me happy, but I don’t feel ready to buy a house. I feel like I’m being forced to take a life step I wasn’t ready or prepared to take. But I can’t change what we’re going through. I have no control. No choice.

There have been so many moments in my life where someone else’s actions changed the course of my life. Or when life just happened to me and no matter how hard or terrible it was, that was my new reality. And I think I try to be so controlling because I have had my power and my choices taken from me so often. In some part of my mind I think that if I have control over everything, life won’t hurt me again. And so I get really rigid. I forget to have faith that things will work out. I’m scared to have faith that things will work out.

The night we found out that we lost Jamie, I prayed harder than I have ever prayed in my life. Until the doctor said there was no heart beat I honestly believed that things were going to be okay. I thought that I had already had my quota of ‘hard things’ in life and so this hard thing wasn’t going to happen. I thought for sure that God would protect me–protect us–from more pain.

And when He didn’t, something in me broke.

I know my faith hasn’t been the same since that day. There has been more questioning and anger in my relationship with God than before losing Jamie. More skepticism. More fighting for control.

Everyone around me is speaking faith into my life. Telling me that God will work things out. That life will work things out. But sometimes it doesn’t work out. Sometimes what you want the most is taken from you. And I cant help but think that God could change that. Faith teaches us that God can do anything, but why doesn’t He? Why is there pain and suffering and struggle? I know that the world is broken. That bad things happen. But I don’t know how to keep being positive and hopeful when I feel like I keep getting beat up by life.

It seems like the more life spins out of control, the more I try and find a way to control life. I think if I plan and am hypervigilant then I will be able to stop hard things from happening. That I won’t be blindsided.

Robby tells me to look at what we are gaining. To see all the good things that will come out of this.

And there are good things.

But I hate having my choices taken from me.

I hate feeling forced.

Because it’s not just moving (which I hate). Since we’re spending all our savings and more on buying a house, we can’t afford to do another round of IVF. We’re still going to go forward with the transfer in October, but after that we are out of embryos and out of options. We are having to choose between having a place to live and having a bio kid. A bio kid isn’t the end-all-be-all for me. I just want to be a mom. But it’s having the choice taken away that is so hard. That hurts so much.

I have always wanted to adopt. And we will be in a county that is known for their excellent foster care and adoption programs. Robby says he thinks this is God’s way of giving us both a home and a child. And he could be right. I hope he’s right. But I’m still so mad at the whole situation. I’m so tired of having to fight for every step forward in this life. And so often it doesn’t feel like a step forward. More like the stumble that comes right after you get hit.

I’ve accepted that we’re moving. That our life plan is changing. But I’m so exhausted. And life keeps coming.

I have to keep going to work. I have to keep doing the stuff and things and the adulting.

And all I want right now is a break. For someone to take care of me for a little while.

I want to feel secure.

Processing

This fertility joufney has been so long and so hard. Some days I do really well and other days I feel like my emotions are too big for me to even identify, let alone unravel and process. Sometimes when my emotions are too big I watch Titanic. I think that the true tragedy of the story helps me to come un-stuck.

Titanic was the ship of dreams. It represented so much hope, and yet it ended so horrifically.

What if that’s going to happen to our dream of having a child? So much hope turned into so much pain.

It already hurts so much. It’s so hard to see other people getting their rainbows. We only have 1 embryo left. What if we are shut out from adopting because of our mental health struggles?

I know I need to trust God. Trust that we will have a child someday. Somehow. Even if it’s not in my timing or in a way we expect. But it’s so hard. Sometimes I get stuck in the fear. In the doubt. In the loss of control.

Because we don’t have any control over this. We can keep trying and keep fighting and keep hoping, but ultimately we have to deal with the reality of what life hands us.

Sometimes you get to go on an incredible adventure. And sometimes your dream sinks.

So Lonely

I’ve been feeling very lonely lately. Struggling with the feeling that I matter, that I’m worth something. That I’m important.

And I’ve talked to Robby about it lately but it hasn’t helped. He’s been sweet about it, telling me that I matter, hugging me, but it just hasn’t helped. Because he’s been the one making me feel lonely. He keeps withdrawing from me, putting up this wall that I can’t get through. So I just keep trying harder. Trying to be noticed. Trying to do everything, and do it all right.

And tonight was a catastrophe, which I won’t get into, but I ended up telling him how I’ve been feeling. That he makes me feel lonely because he shuts me out. That I feel like if I don’t try and connect with him, that we will just be here but never really together. And how it’s so confusing because some days he will want to be intimate, will really be himself, will be comfortable with our relationship. But then the next he will act as though he’s just going through the motions.

And I want to take care of him, to love him, but it hurts so much to feel like he just takes and takes without giving back. Without being sincere.

Because he never follows through. He says he’s going to make changes, says he’s going to do this and that, and for a little bit he does. But then it stops. He stops being a partner in our relationship. Stops trying. And it just goes back to the way it was, with me trying so desperately to bring him back.

And I shouldn’t have to bring him back. All I want is for him to be here, really here. And every time he pulls back, or stops trying, or leaves me emotionally, it hurts.

It hurts so much.

And to be honest, I don’t know how many times I can go through this. It seems like it happens every year. But words are just words, and I have to look at the actions. And I don’t want to reach my limit. I don’t want to have to accept that it’s never going to change. So I’m going to keep trying, keep loving him, and most importantly keep telling him when he hurts me. And maybe it will get better and be real this time. But I’m so afraid that I’m going to end up alone, whether alone in our relationship time and time again, or truly alone. Without him.

The Bad Guy

To me, our family has always been the most important thing. Rob and I are meant to take care of each other, and that includes our family and our home.

But I keep feeling as though I’m the only one who is truly making the effort to take care of our family and home. I’m getting so frustrated of having to do everything.

Of having to constantly talk him into going to work. I get that you don’t necessarily want to go, or that you’re tired or feel like crap, but you still have to work unless it is absolutely not possible. Working is a part of life. It’s necessary to keep our life going. We can’t pay our bills or buy groceries or even live in our house without our jobs.

I am beyond grateful that he worked for those years I was unable to because of the PTSD. He went above and beyond for our family, and I don’t understand why ever since then he has pulled back from being an active part of our family. Actually, it was during those years that he supported us that he started to pull back from being a member of our family. He worked, but that was about it. Slowly, I did more and more until I was doing everything for him. He even admitted that he was taking advantage of me.

I just don’t understand. Was it that he felt resentful? Overwhelmed? Overburdened? Does he need to lean on me now like I leaned on him then? I just don’t understand. I wish he would tell me.

I hate feeling like I am forcing him to be a part of our family. Like I am the bad guy. Part of me wants to just let it go. If he doesn’t want to be part of us, part of our family, then I shouldn’t make him. Because I am so hurt, and so tired of this fight. But another part of me can’t let it go. I feel like if I don’t make him go to work and don’t tell him that his apathy hurts me then it will get worse. That it will fall apart. But it feels like things are falling apart, because I don’t want to be the bad guy. Because it’s been years and he keeps doing it.

And I keep being the bad guy.

Too Broken

In my EMDR session last week we were talking about how I have such a low opinion of myself. I’m always expecting that I’m going to fail, that I’m not going to be strong enough. That no matter what, I’m not going to be good enough. Lori and I were talking, and somehow I’ve gotten it into my head that I am weak. That I am “broken beyond repair”.

And that is a horrible thing to think about yourself.

I used to always have this mentality that I could get through anything, because I never let anything penetrate my emotions. Because, to be honest, I didn’t really have emotions. My range was from happy to annoyed, and I didn’t feel anything outside that range. I didn’t live in the world, but I could handle anything. I always knew that I could handle anything. I wasn’t truly happy either, so I decided on things I wanted for myself and measured my ‘happiness’ by if I achieved those goals. I might be terrified and have panic attacks, but no matter what, I got through it. I did what I set out to do.

When I met Rob and started therapy, I accepted the fact that I was opening myself up to a wider range of emotions, and (I felt) by doing so that I was exposing myself. Making myself vulnerable. All of a sudden I was having to learn how to deal with emotions that I had never dealt with. Emotions that most people learn when they are 7, that I had ‘stuffed’ for almost 14 years. It was overwhelming, terrifying, and exhausting. I started to actually have relationships and experience true happiness, but I felt so fragile. I felt as though I couldn’t handle anything. I had (willingly) gone from blocking my emotions and being able to take on the world, to opening this Pandora’s Box of feelings and feeling steamrolled by life.

I started to (sort of) get life under control (until, that is, the PTSD got out of control, so I guess my life never really was in control) and then started EMDR and–again–willingly pried my emotional range even wider. I willingly entered into a therapy where I strip myself to my core on a weekly basis. I know it’s necessary, but oh, Lord, it is so hard. And I haven’t felt strong the entire time I’ve been in therapy. There have been times (like when I took a break for the summer) when I have seen how far I have come, but I have felt like a bundle of emotions tied together with tears during this whole process.

And to realize now that that I expect myself to always be broken. To feel like I’m never going to feel ‘healed’, is just horrible. Before I started any treatment, I didn’t care. That was how life was, and wasn’t going to change, so why think about it. Now, I have fought for so long and all I want is to be healed. But I really don’t believe that I ever will be. I’m too broken.

And now I’m dealing with some health issues that I don’t want to be facing, and the house is a mess, and with this realization it just all feels like too much. I just want to hide and cry. I just want things to get better. I just want to not be broken.

My Post Secrets

Few people know I was abused.

Fewer know that almost everyone believed his story that I was lying, causing me to lose all my friends.

Hardly anyone knows that I’m writing a book about the abuse, the lies, the bullying, and my recovery.

No one knows that I’m scared to try and find a publisher for my book because I’m afraid people will still believe his story.

And I’m a little afraid of what that says about my recovery.

Losing Myself

I hate feeling like I’m losing myself.

I used to be able to process things and work through them, now I have to shove them aside so that I don’t burst into tears. Then I come home and burst into tears. I’m not able to remain in control like I used to. I don’t have the confidence or the surety that I once had, and I hate that I’ve lost that. I know that it’s temporary, but in a way, it’s worse to know that I had it and now it’s (temporarily) gone. I feel as though I’ve become helpless. I know I used to be worse, but I never had a ‘better’ to compare it to. I never knew what I was missing.

And now I do, so while I’m trying to hold it together and make myself work through the situation, I also feel as if the former, stronger, part of me is trying to hold on but is slipping and can’t figure out why. It’s like losing the ability to do something you could always do. I’m losing that part of me that made me feel free. And that scares me more than I can put words to. And I hate that after all the work I have put in, it’s already slipping away. That I’m already slipping away. I’m so heartbroken.

I know this can be fixed, and that in time it will be fixed, but it’s just so hard. And I’m so tired of it being hard. I knew there would be some regression, but I didn’t think it would be this drastic, that it would hurt this much.

Adjusting

Well, Robby made the switch to 3rd. He goes in for his first shift in just a few hours. Other than being tired from staying up all night Friday in order to switch his sleep schedule and being nervous for his first 3rd shift, he seems to be doing really well, which is great.

I, on the other hand, am very anxious.

I actually have been since Friday night when I went to bed by myself. I was lying there, trying to be calm while telling myself that I didn’t need Robby to sleep, and that I could take care of myself, when it hit me: The last time I told myself those things while trying to sleep alone was when I had left.

I know that this isn’t then. We aren’t sleeping apart because we are broken. We are sleeping apart because our schedules require it.

But it’s still hard.

It’s only been a few days and we are still adjusting, but it is hard. I know our relationship is in a good place. I know that I’m not running from him because the PTSD is twisting my reality. But when I was filling the bed with stuffed animals, trying to forget that he should be lying next to me, some of the old wires started to cross and I started to feel alone. I have never felt more alone than those 3 days in that hotel.

And I never want to feel that way again.

I want our relationship to stay good. I don’t want us to become roommates who never see each other. I know we are going to have to work harder than we have the last few months, but I also know that we have been through much harder things.

But I’m still scared. I know how easy it is to still into bad patterns. I know how easy it is to drift apart. To become lonely. But I have to keep telling myself that we are prepared for this. We know what to watch out for and we know how to invest in and build up our relationship. We just have to do those things, and I have to have faith that we can do this. And as long as we both stay alert and proactive, I know we can.

But maybe that’s the other thing that worries me. Robby has a very hard time with follow through. He’s much better about follow through when it comes to our relationship than when it comes to taking care of himself, but it’s still something he struggles with. So I guess that I worry that we will say that we will be diligent, but when things start to strain, his struggles with follow through will make things harder. So I guess that’s where we start. Talking about my worries.

How Much Do I Share?

For so long I never shared anything with anybody, and to be honest I didn’t want to. But now I’m starting to want to share. To bond. When I first started wanting to share with my friends, I was terrified. I had no idea how to share. That was actually part of why I started this blog. I wanted to share myself but from a distance. Sharing myself through a blog with people I didn’t know just felt safer. It was a medium I could control.

Since starting EMDR I have been wanting more and more to share myself with the people in my life, but I haven’t known how. I’ve bonded with a few new people and told them the truth about my past. I’ve even shared pieces of my past at GIRL Time, but I’ve remained guarded. I’ve had the constant fear that sharing myself will cause someone to reject me, judge me or even use it as a reason to be against me. I’ve been afraid of meeting the same reactions I got when I was a child and not having the strength to withstand it, just like I couldn’t back then.

You see, I’m still developing my sense of self. When those kids rejected me, I couldn’t see that their reaction wasn’t because of who I was, and so I absorbed it. I took all the hate, judgement, and blame and turned it inside myself. I truly believed that I caused their reactions. That their reactions were an indicator of who I was, and they were simply reacting to that. Since they treated me like a dirty unworthy person, I believed that that was who I was. And I carried that with me. For years, I truly believed that I was an unworthy person. Unworthy of love. Unworthy of praise. Unworthy of any positive reaction from anybody. I still struggle with the idea that I deserve praise for my achievements, even when I know–on some level–that I truly have done a good job.

But through the EMDR I have started to get to know myself. I have started to strip away the words those children thrust onto me and I’m starting to see the person that has been trapped all these years. But I’m still growing in myself. Instead of being a young woman, confident in who she is, I am still learning who I am. I am still protecting myself, learning to be proud of who I am, be sure of who I am. Because I want to share. I want to open up. I know that not everyone I open up to is going to love me, or even like me, and that is okay. I don’t need that. I don’t need their approval. All I need is to have the confidence to stand firm in who I am, and if a day comes when someone reacts poorly to what I share, I won’t backslide and lose myself. Instead, I will have the strength, the knowledge, and the self-confidence to know that their reaction belongs to them alone.

It does not define me.