First let me start off my saying I know I’ve missed about 6 months worth of blog posts. And that’s because I’m not in a good place and haven’t been for a while. Even the joy I got from writing to you guys is short-lived. But, like most New Years Resolutions, I made an effort to start posting again. Maybe every month was too much? I mean, every time I type words, my uncontrollable sobs and tears start flowing. I haven’t yet wrote a post to you without crying. So, maybe it’s best to decrease the frequency at which I post; that way you guys still get me, but I can work some of the heavier feelings out on my own. Sounds good? Ok, off we go.
I suppose I should write this in my journal instead of publishing this on the internet for all the world to see, but, I think it’s important for me to record this because it’s all part of my journey. It’s messy, it’s sad. It sucks.
I haven’t really spoken a lot about my trauma. Mainly because I’m still in the middle of trying to heal it. It’s such a complex thing to deal with. I think for me, a (trying to recover) people pleaser, the fact that I have NO ONE to validate or understand what I’m going through is soul crushing. My entire life I turned to other people to validate me. To tell me I was right (or wrong – and I believed them) to tell me how to behave. To tell me how to think, feel, dress, how to wear my makeup, my hair, etc. Healing trauma, while simultaneously going through another round of trauma, ALL ALONE with not a single soul in my life who understands me; It’s crushing – Absolutely crushing. Yes, I can pay all the professionals in the world to validate me (and I have and most likely will continue to do so). But there is something inherently lonely beyond belief to know that not a single relationship you have cultivated in your life has any kind of meaning to it. I mean, if there was ever a time when my “friends and family” came out of the woodwork to support me, wouldn’t it be now? Wouldn’t it be when I was recovering from a disorder that almost killed me 2 years ago? Wouldn’t it be when they found out I’d been in an abusive relationship or 15 years? I mean, if not now, when? Do friends only support you when your Mom dies? When you lose a child? If not now, when?
This is so hard to write because on the one hand, I know that friendship is a 2-way street. Was I *really* there for my friends when they were in crisis? I don’t know – I can’t remember how I supported them. Did I text? Did I call? Did I leave a comment on a Facebook post?
Or is this the start – the start of the infamous “purging” of your friends when you realized you made friends with them while in a traumatized state and as you start to heal, you no longer have anything in common because you are now a completely different person – well, to be fair, you are now the person you were supposed to be without living under the cloud of childhood and marriage trauma. Is this me now? Alone, sad, grieving the loss of everything in my life? And what to say about my marriage? This “act” my husband and I are putting on – is it really going to be good for my kids? How much damage is faking this doing to me? I wish I had the answers. I wish I could tell you which kids do well in a household when their parents fake it. I mean, we don’t fight, we don’t argue. We are 2 employees who each have their duties to perform on a daily basis. My husband still doesn’t do his fair share of anything. He’s still slacking off and not pulling his weight. But what does that matter? What – I’m supposed to talk to him about how it makes me “feel”? He couldn’t give 2 shits. Truly. After calling me disgusting, ugly, unattractive and repulsive, why in the hell would he give 2 shits about the garbage overflowing? Seriously.
And then my mind wanders to grief. The grief of never having a marriage OR a relationship with love. I wonder what it would feel like for a man to look at me and not find me hideous. I wonder what I would be like to have someone like me for who I was, really, inside, and not who I was pretending to be to please someone. I wonder what it would be like to share real intimacy – a trust beyond this world. Just to feel like I matter. I know, I know. We are told we’re supposed to love ourselves first. And I’m slowly getting there. Things were accelerated when I found out no one actually loved me either, yikes. There is something so beautiful about a simple hug or embrace.
I remember years ago reading about this woman who was making a shit-load of money hugging people. She was a complete stranger and she advertised herself on Craigslist as a hugger. She would meet people wherever they wanted, and she would hug them. The longer the hug, the more it cost. At the time, I found it hilarious. Who in the hell would pay someone for a hug? Let me tell you, that if that woman still existed, me – I would pay her today. I hug my kids and squeeze them tight, I hug my friends hello and goodbye. I hug my mom and brothers. But there is something uniquely beautiful about a true embrace. The embrace that tells you so many things with such a simple touch. I’m crying just thinking about it. All the hugs I ever got were just so superficial. I know that my marriage was based on trauma and on paper, it seemed like real love and intimacy, but I now know MUCH better that it was indeed NOT!
There is something so hurtful about being rejected 15 YEARS after marrying someone. I suppose many of you reading this have been through something similar- infidelity comes to mind. And side bar – I think he cheated on me 8 years ago, but denied it. And I think what made it even worse, was the rejecting was based on healing myself. The irony that I saved my life only to be told that I was not worthy as a human because of the way I looked? Writing this down – it blows my mind and explains why I’m still struggling. Unpacking all of this is beyond excruciating. I cry most days. I suffer in silence because no one wants to hear about the recovered anorexic and her abusive marriage. But maybe you do? The stats I get for the number of people who come to this page are pretty dismal. But to be fair, I don’t advertise, I just started Instagram and barely post and I have yet to jump on TikTok. But you are out there. And maybe you aren’t emailing me questions or coming to my page regularly, but if I could just share my story with ONE person, then it will have been a success for me. I don’t care about numbers, followers, clicks, etc. This blog is like my journaling; and the only person I can lie to while journaling is myself.
So I leave you today with a transcript of an Instagram reel that I recently watched – it hit home and I haven’t stopped thinking about since
….”Do you really need the person who hurt you to tell you, “I hurt you, and I’m sorry. And I feel awful that I did it.”
It’s beautiful to get it, but do you need it? Do you not know how painful the pain was when you experienced it? Do you need them to tell you how painful it was? And give you permission to feel it?
You don’t need it. The one who broke you cannot heal you. You have to heal you. You can’t expect the person who broke you into pieces to bring those pieces and say “I’m gonna put you back together.” You can’t do that. You can, but why would you choose to do that.
Someone who has the power to destroy you, and uses that power – why would you trust them with rebuilding you?”……..