Dealing with Trauma

~Note: There will be emotional abuse discussed with in. Don’t read if you’re afraid you’ll be triggered.~
There are times where sleeping is hardest for me. It’s a problem that I have deal with largely since I was 13… at least that’s as far as I can remember. I might have had this problem for longer then I realized. To the best of my knowledge, I’ve only had this problem since I was 13.

The problem is, why the random bouts of insomnia exist. It’s attached to my issues with PTSD. I was diagnosed with it back in 1999. It has many symptoms some of them are stated here. I largely have control over these things, however, there are moments where some how, something comes up and triggers the symptoms. I had this happen last night.

I was reading Captain Awkward answering a question about what to do when friends consistently invite you and your abusive ex to the same parties (the article can be found here. This article was sent to me with the intention of being helpful. The information contained is pretty damn helpful. However, discussion of the person’s issues with abuse triggered me.

Some of the things said remind me of an ex of mine… One that I so lovingly call Douchey McDoucherson. After all, a lot of the things he did was pretty douchey. It was manipulative and controlling. Thinking about it made it difficult for me to even sleep. My head’s been stuck back where I felt like I was going to constantly be barraged with words that were designed to let him do whatever he wanted and get whatever he wanted from me. He would constantly belittle me. He would make me question my self-worth or whether I was attractive enough. He would start arguments with me in public and would force me to spend my hard-earned money on him for frivolous things that he wanted, not things that were needed.

As I read it, I was sent back to where I was with D McD. I felt like I couldn’t escape. I was there to be his accessory. I felt emotionally violated. He never physically hit me (that I can remember), but he never made me feel human or even loved. He would say such horrible things to me and say that he loved me. To this day, there are certain things that just aren’t OK when they happen near me because they hit that one hot button.

It took me about an hour of me telling myself that I was in a safe place. That he couldn’t get me here. That I was with people who were supportive and loving. That I would never be back in that place. I told myself that over and over again until I finally fell asleep at 6 this morning.

My brain keeps me awake so I won’t have nightmares. Dreams where I feel useless and hopeless. Where I feel like I’m stuck in a place where I’m just there. I’m an object.

I wish that there was something that I could do where I wouldn’t have this insomnia, where I wouldn’t be afraid. I wish there was a way to make this go away. It doesn’t work like that. Once the brain starts working this way it’s hard to turn it off.

I can get it to turn off, but it’s going to need a lot of talking. Hopefully this will help me get through it. We’ll see.