Thunderstorms abound (triggered)

I hate storms. I hate lightning. I hate thunder.

I like rain.

I would like to just have the gentle showers of rain all the time. Please no storms.

Storms make me think of Him.

This is the first storm in a long time to trigger me and send me spiraling spiraling down.

Mute had to drive home. I couldn’t even manage driving in this. I fled.

I haven’t fled in a long time.

Mute has surfaced more and more as the stress of purchasing a home and the shift at work tries to overwhelm and drown me.

Today I try to just breathe.

Breathe.

Swallow some Ativan and push back the shadows. They will not leave but perhaps I can keep them in the corners of the room. At the foot of my bed. Not breathing down my neck and trying to crawl into my mouth.

And of course the blood pressure is not good. My head swims with either the drowning of being triggered or the numbers (197/132) spinning out of control.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Just focus on the air. The air is enough for now. The rest of the world doesn’t need to exist yet.

I just wish the storm would stop.

I don’t want to smell him. To feel his shadow. His breath on my face. His nails in my skin.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Just try not to have dreams. No dreams. Please. That’s all I ask. Please.

Surgery

My surgery is scheduled.  November 22nd.

Cons

1. It truly doesn’t seem far enough away.
2. They added on extra to what was initially planned, which has wrecked my psyche a bit.
3. I hate hate hate surgery.
4. And doctors
5. My surgeon is a guy. I am more uncomfortable with male doctors than anything.
6. Due to my precarious health, this surgery is going to have to be in a hospital, even though it’s normally an outpatient procedure.
7. I hate hospitals
8. It’s going to be a long recovery time: 10+ days.
9. Though I finally got through all the red tape to get off work without getting fired (my company is too small to qualify for FMLA or short-term disability), it’s going to be pretty much entirely unpaid leave.  So I have to eat that financial hit.
10. In addition, I have to pay for surgery (my insurance won’t pay even 50%- more like 30%)

    ____________________________________________

I suppose there are pros. Maybe.
Army has said he’s going to figure out how to be off work. That’s nice. All my friends are talking about bringing me ice cream and jello. Also nice. This surgery should not only solve my high blood pressure, but also possibly my migraines. That would be most excellent.

But I’m mostly just terrified.

November 22nd is not far enough away.

ED Recovery App Update

A little while ago, I stumbled across the Recovery Record app and wrote about it.

After using it for a couple weeks, I’ve discovered that one of my commenters was right; this app just brings my disorder to the forefront of my mind.

The constant “EAT” reminders that buzzed on my phone every couple hours just overwhelmed me and make me uncomfortable.  The detailed food log just made me want to have a lack of food to log.

All in all, I’m sad to report it was very triggering.  I do hope it was better for others, but I wanted to mention my experience.

Anyone else have any experiences to share?

Baby Shower

We just finished my coworker’s baby shower and I am triggered beyond belief.

I did not expect it to be this bad.

I feel so weak and dumb and stupid that I can still be so wounded over a year later.

I did get a bit of smile when my coworker (J) opened my gift for her and just beamed at it.  She loves elephants.  It’s entirely a coincidence that what I gave her had elephants on it though.

Because it was one of the items I had stowed away from my pregnancy.  I could never bring myself to donate them or even throw them away.

I really struggled with whether to give it to J or not.  But she has been such a great coworker and friend to me that it felt like the safest home for my things.

And seeing her smile and then turn to hug me so tightly….I think I did the right thing.

But feeling her stomach press against me….my heart breaks. 

Seeing all the little things our office got her…my heart breaks.

Hearing them all talk about due dates, and weights, and labor wards, and OB doctors….my heart breaks.

I will never get to experience that.
And it wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t been given a taste of that beautiful dream.

Felt the fluttering movement inside me.

Saw how everything was right and hopeful and so many were sweet and supportive.

Heard that heartbeat.

But my body is not worthy.  I am not worthy.

And so I watch others live my dreams.  And I hope that they realize what a beautiful gift they’ve been given.  That they are so very, very full.

And I am so very very empty.

Possibility of death

I don’t why I’m so badly triggered.  So badly. Badbadbadbad.

The message Grandma sent me is bad. I know that. But why should it affect me so much?  I don’t know why I feel as if it’s a possibility of a parent dying.  I think there’s a whole chunk of memory about my paternal grandparents I’m forgetting.

__________

I just got told that my grandfather is possibly dying.  Possibly.  This is after my birthday card from them last week stated he was in the hospital with “heart trouble”.  The message (via Facebook) said that he’s been released from the hospital but that they “don’t think he’s going to last much longer”.

What?

What the hell does that mean? What am I supposed to do with that?  Why would you tell me like that?  Why in a fucking Facebook message?  This is the man I spent a huge chunk of my childhood with.  The only adult male in my family I love with my heart AND soul.

I knew there was a reason Chicago’s been calling to me.  I need to go.  I need to be there.

But I can’t.  Stupid work.  Stupid puppies.  Stupid money.  Stupid everything.

I just want to be there.  I just want to go.  Gogogogogogo.

I hate my life.  I hate my responsibilities.  I hate this.  I hate hate hate it.

Why am I so weak?

Triggered

Well shit.

I thought things were good.

But then my boss sent me on a mission to get some recorded mortgages at the local county office.  It’s raining and nasty here.  And I like watching my feet when I walk alone.

There are little worm bodies everywhere.

Apparently this is normal for post-storm rainy-ness.  I dunno.

And for some reason it’s violently triggered me.  I have no idea why.  I can sense some sort of memory in the back of my mind, but I can’t reach it.  It’s been awhile since a visual thing has triggered me so badly.

It was such a violent trigger than I splintered slightly and Charlotte came out to flirt with the recorder’s office employee.  It worked out in our favor, as he lowered the copy fee substantially for us, but still.  A bit unsettling.  I could feel her not wanting to return to my office after the errand and an internal fight ensued.

Fortunately, Serefina won and now I’m back here.

Still faintly triggered.

I don’t know why.

dead dry wormy bodies.  looks like the site of a defeated battle. a war lost.  no one sees. no one notices. need to move them. move move move. be nice. nice nice.

Triggers of pregnancy

I knew this would happen.

I mean, that I would eventually be triggered.

I didn’t expect it to be in this way….

________

So of course I have to tell Army about Zoe being pregnant.  I mean, not only is he like- lets say a godfather to her, but he’s over at my place occasionally.  He’s gonna notice at some point.

I expected him to be annoyed at me for not keeping a better eye on Zoe.

He was not.

He is ecstatic.  He is begging me to contact him the moment I know she’s in labor so he can be there.  He wants to help her as much as possible.

Everything just….just the complete opposite of how he responded to me a year and a half ago.

So now I mean less than a dog.  And puppies are much more important than a-

No.

I won’t say it.

If I don’t say it, then it isn’t real.

I feel that fracturing and I don’t want it.  I can’t have it.

splits and cracks and bones and blood and lets hurt him- lets maim him.  like he maimed us.  have the blood and the pain and the hurt-

I have too much to do.  I have to work on getting a car.  I have to keep things afloat at work-

Has she told you how work is going?  I am doing my best to keep things from falling apart, but the program is going badly and turnover is decreasing exponentially.  There is a high chance that I will have to shoulder the blame.  Despite it not being remotely my fault.  I may end up being fired.  I cannot be fired.  I do not get fired.  I am good at my job.  I am an excellent multi-tasker with exceptional attention to detail.  I am highly motivated by deadlines and task lists-

I don’t want to fracture.  I don’t want to start losing time again.  I just want to be normal.

But I don’t want to listen to him coo and smile over her.  I don’t want to hear that.  I don’t want to watch it.  I can’t.  I can’t.  I can’t.

Don’t worry.  You won’t have to.

Hollywood’s at it again….

Just read this. Ugh. Holy fuck. This sounds like a bad fucking soap opera. United States of Tara wasn’t too bad. At least it didn’t fucking make DID sound like goddamn always-violent sociopathic disease that needs constant sedatives.

Wtf, Hollywood??

Get your goddamn heads out of your ass.

(Note: vacation was triggering as fuck, so it’ll be a bit before we get back on track. Apologies or some shit for the silence.)

A Lesson in Feelings

This whole past weekend has been a lesson in how I really feeling about various things.

Let’s go by topic to keep things simple and readable for your lovely persons.

Housing
Well, the rental app didn’t get approve.  The letter of explanation they supposedly wrote and attached to our email was corrupted when we got it and now we can’t get them to give us a straight answer.  But this makes Mom and I just think there’s something fishy going on.  Whatever.  There will be other opportunities.  I was surprised at how easily I shrugged this off, though I suppose it’s because of other things I’ve had to worry about this weekend.

The Past
After the last post where Daria got triggered by Mom writing our childhood address, things got worse before they got better.  I volunteered Friday at an event near that horrible old house, and afterwards while driving back home, someone hijacked the body to drive past that place.
We were all startled to discover that the house was not torn down by McD’s.  It was right behind their dumpsters.  The backyard.  The tiny garage/shed with the slate blue paint.
Stupid Memory Lane.  I lost almost 2 hours that night.  I’m not sure if it was all spent just parked by that house, rocking back and forth in misery or if we went somewhere else.  I only remember a glimpse of the house, then I was back home letting Zoe outside, 2 hours after I’d left the event (only a 20 minute drive away).
I hope the dark thoughts are behind us.

Army
We almost broke up Saturday night.  Technically we did break up for about 40 minutes.
He was supposed to do something with me Saturday, and I didn’t hear from him until 8 or 9pm.  When I asked for an explanation, it was that he was “sleeping”.  Then he asked “Are you mad?”.
Hell yes, I was mad.  I told him too.  And I explained that he needed to see it from my perspective.  This is the third time he’d flaked on me in two weeks.  I didn’t feel important at all.  Then he made some vague sort of promise to “make it up to me”.
I told him I wasn’t sure if I could do it anymore.  Be with him if he was just going to be all flakey and make vague promises.  To which he replied “I’ll just leave you alone then”.
I was floored.
And what surprised me more was my utter sadness over the whole thing.  I literally sobbed for a good half hour, trying to talk to Texas about the matter.
I didn’t realize that I was in that deep.  I’ve never cared before.  When we parted ways a couple months ago, I didn’t bat an eyelash.
What’s different now?
Anyway, he texted me back about 40 minutes later and asked that I explain further because he thought our relationship was too important to just forget about.  I poured my heart out- well, sort of.  I always hold back a bit. Especially lately.  He then said he really didn’t want to lose me and that he cared too much about me.  And then Sunday, he took me out for lunch, ice cream, on a walk, and to the dog park with Zoe.  It was great.  We talked and it was…amazing.  I’m terrified about this whole thing.  I’m not sure if I can put myself on the line like that again.  I haven’t even tried since Katherine.  I don’t know…

Germany
She emailed me again.  It was a hurtful email.  I can’t even get into here because I’ll just start crying again.  Basically, she doesn’t want to be friends if I can’t admit that I’m a “manipulative, compulsive liar” and seek therapy for it.  I was nothing but honest about the situation with Jeff.  I didn’t paint a pretty picture with me as some hurting damsel.  I stated plainly that he was the wronged party and I regretted it.  But she said because I spoke so “flat-toned and simply” that I must be looking for “validation” about being the wronged party.  I don’t understand.  My heart hurts over this whole matter.  This is my best friend for over a decade.  She’s always been there for me.  Always.
Why this?  Why does she have such blinders when it comes to Jeff?  I’m not asking for her to “take my side”.  I don’t want that at all.  I don’t want sides.  I’ve said that from the beginning.  I don’t even want to talk about the situation at all.
I just want to be able to talk to my friend.
I am heartbroken.