Long time, no write. I can't believe how long it's been. I've actually written plenty since my last post, but it's mostly just been a bunch of word vomit. As such, it really didn't seem fit for human consumption. The truth is, every time I sit down to try to write something, it's like my brain completely shuts down. I'm left sitting in front of my computer starting blankly at the screen, probably drooling a little. Things sound so perfect in my head - but the minute I try to express anything that sounds like a rational thought...*poof*
Another Thanksgiving has passed. Another year full of things to be thankful for, not the least of which is the fact that I'm still here. But beyond that, I've got two awesome boys who are adjusting to the divorce better than I could have ever imagined. I've got a wonderful man who loves me to pieces and loves the boys like they were his own flesh and blood. Another year of steady employment, a roof over my head and food in my belly (albeit too much sometimes). By all accounts, it's been an incredibly successful year.
But holidays are a time when I instinctively go into survival mode. After all, for the last many years, that's what it's all been about. It's a time when I feel especially aloof, distant. It's a time for being even quieter than usual. And I fear that it comes across as bitchy. I worry that people get the completely wrong impression of me. Let's face it, the world just isn't made for socially anxious introverts like me. And it's hard to explain, really, why a time that is so joyous for most "normal" people is so incredibly difficult for me. But I guess that's just it. Holidays have always been notoriously difficult. Stress levels are often high this time of year, but it's always been compounded by having to constantly walk on eggshells to avoid yet another explosive outburst. It's always been an exceptionally volatile time of year. The abuse was always worst around holidays. I guess that's not something I've gotten past just yet. My situation has obviously changed a lot, but there's still that part of me that is just so used to waiting for the other shoe to drop that it just doesn't know how to do anything else.
And instead of handling things like a grown-up, I just tend to shut down. That's super mature, right? Just close my eyes, shove my fingers in my ears and scream, "I'M NOT LISTENING!!!" at the top of my lungs. That's me. I'm not sure who let me have children, but I'm pretty sure they have questionable judgment. But it's not like I'm doing it in protest. Honestly, it's like I'm paralyzed with fear and anxiety. I'm used to things being turned upside down in a heartbeat.
Part of me feels like you can't put a timeline on recovering from abuse, but the bigger part of me feels like I should be over it already. I guess that's the part that people miss a lot of the time - abuse is insidious. It lives on long after the abuser is gone. It's that tiny voice in the back of my head that keeps telling me that nobody will ever love me and that I'll never be good enough. And when someone does come along to love me despite all of the craziness that is me, I still wait for the other shoe to drop. I don't know how to be any other way. Somewhere along the line, my wires got crossed and it's a lot harder to uncross them than it looks.
So yeah, this holiday season I'll probably be distant and quiet and I'll probably seem like a bitch because fading into oblivion is the only way I've managed to survive, and I'm not used to being able to being in "living" mode instead of just trying to survive. Be gentle with me - I'm doing the best that I can. But trust me, I'll get there. I always get there eventually. I'm just too stubborn to give up, and sometimes that's a really good thing...
And instead of handling things like a grown-up, I just tend to shut down. That's super mature, right? Just close my eyes, shove my fingers in my ears and scream, "I'M NOT LISTENING!!!" at the top of my lungs. That's me. I'm not sure who let me have children, but I'm pretty sure they have questionable judgment. But it's not like I'm doing it in protest. Honestly, it's like I'm paralyzed with fear and anxiety. I'm used to things being turned upside down in a heartbeat.
Part of me feels like you can't put a timeline on recovering from abuse, but the bigger part of me feels like I should be over it already. I guess that's the part that people miss a lot of the time - abuse is insidious. It lives on long after the abuser is gone. It's that tiny voice in the back of my head that keeps telling me that nobody will ever love me and that I'll never be good enough. And when someone does come along to love me despite all of the craziness that is me, I still wait for the other shoe to drop. I don't know how to be any other way. Somewhere along the line, my wires got crossed and it's a lot harder to uncross them than it looks.
So yeah, this holiday season I'll probably be distant and quiet and I'll probably seem like a bitch because fading into oblivion is the only way I've managed to survive, and I'm not used to being able to being in "living" mode instead of just trying to survive. Be gentle with me - I'm doing the best that I can. But trust me, I'll get there. I always get there eventually. I'm just too stubborn to give up, and sometimes that's a really good thing...
