595 Days of........S.H.I.T (Stuff Heather Isn't Telling)

The effects of abuse, even years later, are far reaching. I mean really far reaching. When everyone around you tells you how happy you should be and you're not, you start to wonder what's wrong with you. When you take a step back and look at your life from the outside, through the eyes of a bystander, you really start to second guess yourself. You go back to that place your abuser put you in...the place that kept you with them for so long. You become that person who thinks that there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with anything in your life, so it must be you. That's when the depression spirals. When everyone tells you how wonderful your husband is, so you know you can't even vent about a single thing that irritates you because you feel like everyone in the world likes him more than you. If you tell them it bugs you when he lets his Pepsi cans pile up on the end table, they look at you like you're horrible for not picking them up for him, even though it's the ONE thing you've begged him to do for years.

So what happens when the depression spirals? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. At least that's how it feels like it's been in my life. Of course that's not exactly true. A lot has happened since I last posted. I mean it's been 595 days, so it's pretty obvious life has continued. I'm still here & breathing. The moon has made 22 rotations around the Earth. The Earth has made about one and a half rotations around the sun and rotated on its axis almost 25 times. And me, well, I've been standing in the middle of the living room with my arms spread wide, rotating on my own axis. At least that's how I feel. A lot has happened in the last year and a half or so. And I'm sitting here trying to function, not telling anyone what's going on because they all count on me for something. I don't tell anyone SHIT because I CAN'T. I mean I've tried. But they don't listen. It doesn't matter how I feel I guess. So I shut my mouth, as usual. It's draining. Is my reaction an effect of abuse or is it me simply being DONE? I can't tell anymore.

Let me give you the abridged version of the last 595 days.

Shortly after my last post (the one where my therapist made a huge breakthrough and I went into a mini freakout), I ran out of HSA funds, my insurance stopped paying for counseling, and I couldn't afford to see her anymore. That sent me spiraling for a little bit. I was feeling angry, sad, scared, & about a million other emotions all at once. Fuck health insurance in the US. I could go on an entirely different rant about that.

Not too long after that, my husband got a job transfer from Washington state to North Carolina. We had been looking to leave WA, but it came a little quicker than expected. We had about six weeks to pack up, find a place to live, and head east. Of course all of the planning was solely on me. We sold everything we owned aside from what we could fit inside a borrowed camp trailer and our truck, loaded up one of our cats, two dogs, my 20 year old son, and his 13 year old daughter, and started our journey. I was tasked with finding us a house and getting utilities set up as well as school for A. I ended up setting her up with online since I wasn't sure if we'd end up staying in the house I'd found us long term, and boy was that smart. I unknowingly put us smack dab in the middle of gang central. We were there for about three months before I found another house and we moved again. This was all while spiraling mentally, mind you. It was a lot to handle. It was a fun adventure though. And I do best when I have something big to plan and focus on, so even though it was stressful, it wasn't horrible at first.

Hubby has been working nonstop since we moved. I'm talking he gets one day off every two weeks sometimes. The money is nice but damn. It's taken a toll on me. We've lived in NC for over a year and I can't say I have a single friend in this state. Not one. That's depressing. I only recently started driving again after close to two years not being able to get behind the wheel. Thankfully my seizures are finally under control, but mentally I'm a fucking hot mess. I try my best to do everything for everyone but I feel like nobody really appreciates it. The kid doesn't. The hubby doesn't. The grown kid doesn't. Where does that leave me? Exhausted and unappreciated. And fucking depressed.

Maybe if my worthless POS of an ex didn't beat the shit out of me and fuck me up mentally I'd be able to make a friend or two. Maybe if he didn't give me epilepsy I'd be able to work. Maybe maybe maybe. But here I sit, lonely, depressed, & angry. I stalked his social media again recently. He was on house arrest with two ankle bracelets. One for location and one for alcohol. And by the looks of things, he was bragging about it. Like, who does that?!?! Oh I know...pieces of complete shit like him. Assholes who think the slap on the wrist they get for basically getting away with yet another DUI with no jail time is funny. Losers who are probably still battering women and ruining lives. FUCK!!!!!!!! I want to do something about this! About him! About the lack of justice in my life and the lives of so many other people who have and still are experiencing domestic abuse. I'm just sick...

Sorry. This is all over the place. I'm all over the place right now. Fuck it. I'm done for now.

Later.

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Lynae

Writer • Healing Advocate

Rewriting the stories I once survived