Severe Weather

The Weather Channel used to fascinate me. Every morning I would turn it on and try to catch my local forecast. Over time it became easier to catch the weather on the internet and the local television stations started sending text messages with weather watches and warnings. Now I have an app on my phone I check long enough to see if my kids need to wear a jacket. As a result I have been caught in the rain a few times. To avoid being a soggy cold mess all I had to do was pay attention to the warnings.

This past week I did not pay attention to warning signs and found myself picked up by an emotional tornado, spun around, and tossed on the ground so hard the wind was knocked out of my chest. I did not see it coming because I had become too comfortable.

I had convinced myself the worst was over. So much work and writing had taken place, demons faced, tears shed, and addictions conquered. I was sure I had reached a stage of being a support for others rather than someone who needed to be supported. This attitude and complacency landed me flat on my back, struggling for breath.

Listening to a woman tell her story started me down the path towards the tornado. Storm clouds started to form but rather than listen to my body’s reaction, I chose to dismiss it and not take it as seriously. Previously I have taken notes regarding my reactions and where they started so I would have a point of reference later if I needed to work through something. No notes were taken and at the end of her story my head was starting to spin. There were many similarities with my story. It was the chaotic situation surrounding her abuse and age that hit my heart. The deeply rooted desire to feel special and feel affection in her story coincided with mine. I had felt the same love/hate relationship with my first abuser.

Already fighting the tornado strength winds, another woman brought up having a health sex life. I am still working on this with my own husband, but the memories of my first husband and the mental and sexual trauma he delivered jumped to the surface. I only wrote his name in my notebook. The tornado was beginning to carry me off and I was losing ground.

Next came the frustrations of a single woman wanting to be in a relationship but she feels she has too much emotional baggage due to the abuse. She is convinced no one will want to take her on as a girlfriend/wife.  All of the emotions tied to the abuse, especially the anger, are so overwhelming she did not know how to express them.  This young woman knew she had closed herself off with thick walls around her heart, determined to never be hurt again. This woman represents everything I have ever been and what I still struggle with. I had to face the fact I still need to open myself up more, especially in my relationship with my husband.

I went home rather shell shocked. I went through the motions of getting the kids and myself in bed. My head was still clogged and I felt unsteady on my feet but was convinced it would all be better in the morning. The next day started pretty well. My brain was fuzzy but I managed to function most of the morning. At lunch I had started to write on the debriefing sheet what I had felt and experienced the night before. It is usually best to do the sheet within 24 to 48 hours, while the information is still fresh. As I began to write the warning bells started going off in my head. The world was swirly and confusing and my emotions started to get the best of me. I made rash decisions, got wrapped up in paranoia, and just fell apart. While I had already written my story, I felt an urgent push to journal another part of it, to face an incident I had yet to deal with. I also needed to understand what had been stirred up the night before. I was in a bad place.

Fortunately my off balance ramblings were kindly squelched by a person who is familiar with my recovery process. He reminded me to breathe and not overreact to my emotions. I was also encouraged to sleep and not push myself to figure everything out at one time. I needed to slow down and really think about what was happening; to recognize the origin of the emotional panic and put it in its place.

This did not happen overnight but over the next couple of days I started to debrief myself. I started writing and logic started to beat out emotion. The 3 events I mentioned above were written out and I made the connections to my own story rather than getting mine mixed up with theirs. The storm started to move away. I was able to feel the ground under my feet again.

Being comfortable with the progress I have made is not a terrible thing. I do not want to feel there is a piano ready to drop on my head at any moment either. There is a delicate balance that has be learned and recognized. There is no doubt another victim’s story will stir up emotions in my heart. There will be situations that will cause initial panic at their familiarity with my abuse. However, I need to learn to take a deep breath, put them in perspective, and not let amped-up emotions override logic; in no way an easy task. It will come with time and practice.