And She Goes On

So as you can tell from my last “I’m Kinda Giving Up” post, I had a bad weekend.  Like a really very super bad weekend.  I don’t want to say more except…yeah, it was bad.

I think what happens when you suffer a trauma is this: you stay sad and numb for a very long time.  Then either gradually or with a burst, the dam breaks and the numb is replaced by a pain that is unbearable.  And the thing is, I thought that dam had already broken.  It had not.

I don’t know how to describe what’s happening.  I have been told by three clinicians that it is severe PTSD caused by James.  I wish there was a way for me to explain how you don’t have to beat someone to a pulp to, well, beat them to a pulp.  You absolutely can destroy someone by words, suggestions, scary glances, coercive control and covert actions.

The thing that happened that broke the dam?  I cannot and will not discuss in this forum. Not today, not another day, probably not ever.  But I have relived it in a sad and numb way since I extracted myself from James several moons ago.  And today, right now, I live it in a raw, very fucked up kind of way.

I have a rudimentary plan compliments of a great team of clinicians in place to cope. There is no “if A then B” kind of scenario that gets you out of here.  It’s a very deliberate “you must not fall deeper” sort of plan that includes (beyond the love of my son, my daughter, my family and friends):

  • Trauma therapy
  • Running shoes
  • Jane Austen novels
  • Writing
  • Silly podcasts
  • My kindle
  • Fresh blackberries
  • Fullersburg Woods
  • Instagram
  • My “Though She Be But Little She is Fierce” Spotify playlist
  • Deep breathing
  • Walking my dogs until their feet and mine cannot take another step
  • Learning how to write legislation
  • Allowing new people into my life who love me genuinely and tenderly because I was always and am very much still worthy of exactly that

This girl has fallen.  But she goes on.


Pretty soon you’ll be able to remember her
Lying in the garden singing
Right where she’ll always be
The door is always open

In her soft wind I will whisper
In her warm sun I will glisten
And I always will remember
In a world without end

She goes on
She goes on

She goes on

– Tim & Neill Finn

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