I wish someone would do a study to include relationships in which the physical violence is kept to a minimum over a long period of time. The first incident was within the first 3 days of my marriage, the second around year 5, then three and four came within a year of one another and that pattern stayed true. Yet the “other abuses” were constant.
I also wonder about the finding that battered women suffering from BWS/PTSD could over-estimate the severity of subsequent abusive incidents. I am finding that in my new relationship, I will feel very deeply anxious about conversations and emotion-sharing events, in part because I’m waiting for the shoe to drop. I’m anticipating abuse where there is none. My fight or flight reaction is on permanent standby and I overthink things that are said in a helping matter questioning if its criticism or even bullying.
It is Friday night and I am certain that I am going to die soon. My brain moves despite the fact I lie quiet I toss and turn seeking quiet; my body moving away this way then that way hoping it might change the speed of my thoughts, reduce the fear that lies heavy in my chest.
I am really running from certain memories that attack my mind. A violence I can no longer take. There has been enough violence. So I thrust the trauma into a deeper crevice of my mind, but it creeps into my muscles, making me jittery. It creeps into my eyes creating a hyper-awareness and constant need to look over my shoulder. To feel fear It hasn’t always been this way. “It” being existence. “This way” being perplexing. It had once been clearer, but perhaps I lacked awareness. Perhaps I did not yet recognize that existence was nonsensical. Additionally, my particular traumas of being a body caused me a new type of bewilderment — a whirlwind of thoughts attacking my mind all at one time like a group running towards the only exit in a burning building.
The night is still. I toss again slowly, feeling exhausted. He looks at me with concerned eyes and asks me what is wrong. I begin to cry. Everything feels over stimulating at this point — the traffic outside, the ceiling fan turning , Medusa our cat purring at our feet. I can’t focus my attention or think clearly on one single reason why I am crying..
my hands are shaking. He reaches over to touch me in the dark I move quickly to face away from him. I lie in our bed but I can’t find stillness in my mind or body. I am trembling as he rubs my back, telling me to breathe. He eventually falls asleep once I stop crying. But I cannot. The movements of my body become out of control as I seize in our bed. I am concerned that the motion may wake my boyfriend, but he snores softly beside me, grinding his teeth. I don’t feel safe in my own body as I continue to convulse. I only want to fall asleep. My eyes won’t stay closed and I am unable to lie still. I feel my body shake uncontrollably. It feels like a lot of pieces, strands of unexplained things my mind focuses on a happy memory my kids I fall asleep almost instantly, exhausted. But I wake in an hour feeling anxious. I need to move.The world feels as though it is trembling with the need to communicate. Every sound around me means something. There is a cosmic relatedness about everything and everybody has the code to crack the meaning of life, love and above all precious sleep but me