This morning I decided I better read my last blog post to make sure it wasn’t just jumbled. Whew….it wasn’t…… for the most part it made sense. I was relieved.
I have been in a bit of a trance since last Wednesday, my life has been a blur.
I had to have surgery to have some ovarian cysts removed. The initial plan was to go in and remove a grapefruit sized cyst from the right ovary. When the doctor started the surgery he found more than anticipated. They ended up removing a racketball sized cyst from my left ovary, and a six-inch round cyst from my right ovary. Coming out of surgery they gave me hydrocodone to help with the pain, but I couldn’t take it until I could have food, so it was well into the evening before my nausea subsided enough to take the medicine. On top of
On top of that, I don’t like taking medicine, so I started with a half dose and by Wednesday night I was in tons of pain. It had gotten ahead of me and now I was playing catch up.
I started taking the full dose and that made me dizzy and distant from reality. To be honest I’m not exactly sure what happened. I know that the first day I was so thankful for my new husband and over and over again I told him how grateful I was to have him by my side instead of the ex-husband who wouldn’t have cared about me.
Like I said….the details are fuzzy, I know my dad was here helping with my kids, and he left on Thursday afternoon. I knew that Friday would be hard, but my husband didn’t see the need of both men (my dad and him) being here, he thought he could take care of things on his own. I was dopey and agreed. I did okay through Thursday, the insanity really started Friday morning when my husband left for work. all the sudden I had to figure out how to get my kids up, fed, dressed, and to school on my own. I couldn’t think clearly and I was struggling to stay awake, and all hell broke loose.
My twelve-year-old son managed Friday morning, but I didn’t. He got everyone dressed, fed, out the door and safely to school. I fell into a downward spiral that I couldn’t pull out of. I was hit with a trauma bomb, and like a wounded animal fighting to preserve its life……..I came out with everything that I had to save myself.
The trigger message was this……
I wasn’t important enough to deserve to be taken care of.
My new husband had left me in a position that I was unable to handle on my own. Old messages washed over me:
“You are not important.”
“You are weak for not being able to take care of yourself”
“Your needs don’t matter”
Everyone is more important that you are”
The trauma was compounded even more when my children left with their dad Saturday morning. I was left unable to take care of myself in a house with my new husband and three step kids. My boys had been so helpful to me, helping me walk to the bathroom, getting me food and water as I needed it because I couldn’t stand up very well. Now they were gone. The messages from above sunk even deeper and panic and trauma took over my brain. I was sleeping in the recliner in the main room because I couldn’t lay flat. I was at my very worst with what felt like strangers that didn’t care about me and I couldn’t do anything about it. The shame of the way I looked and felt cursed through my veins. Teenage stepdaughters whispering and laughing, I felt like they were making fun of me. So helpless! So sad!
I became convinced that I had to do it all by myself, that nobody was going to help me, and I was helpless. I tried to do it on my own, but I was in so much pain. My brain couldn’t sort through the messages. I came out fighting. My husband tried to help me, but I didn’t want his help. I was convinced that he was resentful of having to help me. I had lived that life for far too long. I would rather do it myself than have someone do it when they didn’t want to. I don’t need anyone’s pitty.
Speaking From Trauma
I am finally off of the narcotics today. I am in a lot of pain, but I don’t want to take them any longer. I have spent much of the past 24 hours in tears trying to make sense of the weekend. I really can’t tell what is the truth, and what is trauma right now. My stepdaughters told me that they were not talking about me, and I want to believe them. They were kind and apologetic. They hugged me, I take comfort in knowing that one day my brain might be able to sort through all the complex trauma that I have faced, and that in doing so I will know what I need to do for me. I pray that I will know the relationships that are worth preserving, and I will know the relationships that are not. I pray that one day I won’t be hijacked anymore by lies and bad memories and that I will find peace.
Until then….I march forward……Somedays feeling like I am crazy, and knowing that I am deeply wounded. And praying that I am not alone.