I need a "self centered analyzing" tag
I was just reading an article written by a woman with PTSD, talking about her relationships with others. Her whole blog is kind of awesome, but this particular entry really, really resonated with me.
Not because I think I have PTSD. But because I'm almost positive that Trevor has it. As positive as I can be, minus his willingness to see a mental health professional and get diagnosed. So, she's describing how hard it is for her loved ones to deal with being her loved ones, and why. And, while I've done a lot of research on PTSD and am familiar with the symptoms, I've never really brought that thought process full circle, never really related them to my life and relationship with him.
And why should I, right? Trevor isn't a boyfriend, or a partner. He's a lover, and a friend, but I'm free of emotional entanglements with him that would complicate my ability to clearly see our relationship, or walk away from unhealthiness... Yeah. I call hard bullshit on that one. Obviously. I'm still here. I'm still writing about and analyzing this shit. I'm still caught up in and invested in his mental health, or lack thereof.
But reading about the effects of PTSD on how you treat the people who you're closest to... One of the things it helped me see is why I'm still doing this. Why I'm still caught up in our relationship, seemingly unable to get out, and frantic with it.
It's not just a matter of walking away from an adult. It's walking away from a safety zone that I've created. I worked hard to create this peaceful place, for him. I've worked hard to give him what he needs to start healing, even a little bit. Because I want him to heal. I want him to fall in love, and have babies, and be a crotchety old grandfather who gives his grandkids flashlights and lectures on safety, and terrifies his granddaughters dates.
But now I want my freedom back. I want to walk away from this sense of safety and comfort and complacency that I've helped create. I'm not unaware of my own need for these things. It's not like I haven't benefitted from this relationship, a lot. It's just that now I'm ready to go create another situation, create another little world. This one isn't right for me. I tried it, but too many bricks of the walls we've crafted are composed of somebody elses need. My own needs, my own desires, make up very little of this world.
Anyways. I'm getting off track here. PTSD. It's irresponsible of me to have done what I've done. I know myself. I know my strengths, but I know my weaknesses better. And a need to connect to others weakness, to try and fix it, is a weakness of mine. And then a recognition of my own inability to fix them, and the need to walk away. I keep talking about that, keep acknowledging it. But with Trevor, it means so much more. Feels so much weaker, crueler.
It kills me to think of him alone. I don't care what he says about his curmudgeonly desires. I KNOW his need to connect, I see it very clearly. And it kills me to think of that being unfulfilled. I see his actions as the result of trauma, see the way he treats me, treats everyone. And I know that, without professional help, he will not get better. He will not change, and be able to connect to another human being, have a healthy relationship. He won't get over his fear, his defensiveness, and his absolute need for control.
I am not professional help. I am a talented amatuer, who can easily do more harm than good with my own shit mucking up the emotional waters.
But, in the absence of his willingness to even see the need for professional help, I'm the best he's got. And that's kind of hard to walk away from. My first inclination for that sentence was to say "And that's kind of addictive", but I shied away from it. Which, I suppose, means it's truer than I'm willing to acknowledge right now...
I've been incredibly hard on myself lately. Honestly, I've been pretty much hating myself lately. My self esteem has been at an all time low. Part of that is my absolute disgust at my inability to either walk away or confront this situation head on, my inability to do something healthy for myself. I see it as weakness, and I DESPISE it.
I've told him before that, unless he got professional help for his anger management, I'd leave. And then I did everything in my power to make sure he didn't get angry at me again.
It worked. Very few kerfuffles ensued, and life was mostly peaceful on the surface. But the level of effort involved in making sure it stayed that way has taken a toll on my sense of self.
Ah, patterns. I felt this way when I was 19 and desperate to get away from my religion. I felt this way when I was 22 and desperate to get away from my hometown. I felt this way when I was 29, and desperate to break up with my boyfriend of 6 years. I'm 36, and I haven't broken these god damn patterns yet.
I will, though. Take notice, brain.
Not because I think I have PTSD. But because I'm almost positive that Trevor has it. As positive as I can be, minus his willingness to see a mental health professional and get diagnosed. So, she's describing how hard it is for her loved ones to deal with being her loved ones, and why. And, while I've done a lot of research on PTSD and am familiar with the symptoms, I've never really brought that thought process full circle, never really related them to my life and relationship with him.
And why should I, right? Trevor isn't a boyfriend, or a partner. He's a lover, and a friend, but I'm free of emotional entanglements with him that would complicate my ability to clearly see our relationship, or walk away from unhealthiness... Yeah. I call hard bullshit on that one. Obviously. I'm still here. I'm still writing about and analyzing this shit. I'm still caught up in and invested in his mental health, or lack thereof.
But reading about the effects of PTSD on how you treat the people who you're closest to... One of the things it helped me see is why I'm still doing this. Why I'm still caught up in our relationship, seemingly unable to get out, and frantic with it.
It's not just a matter of walking away from an adult. It's walking away from a safety zone that I've created. I worked hard to create this peaceful place, for him. I've worked hard to give him what he needs to start healing, even a little bit. Because I want him to heal. I want him to fall in love, and have babies, and be a crotchety old grandfather who gives his grandkids flashlights and lectures on safety, and terrifies his granddaughters dates.
But now I want my freedom back. I want to walk away from this sense of safety and comfort and complacency that I've helped create. I'm not unaware of my own need for these things. It's not like I haven't benefitted from this relationship, a lot. It's just that now I'm ready to go create another situation, create another little world. This one isn't right for me. I tried it, but too many bricks of the walls we've crafted are composed of somebody elses need. My own needs, my own desires, make up very little of this world.
Anyways. I'm getting off track here. PTSD. It's irresponsible of me to have done what I've done. I know myself. I know my strengths, but I know my weaknesses better. And a need to connect to others weakness, to try and fix it, is a weakness of mine. And then a recognition of my own inability to fix them, and the need to walk away. I keep talking about that, keep acknowledging it. But with Trevor, it means so much more. Feels so much weaker, crueler.
It kills me to think of him alone. I don't care what he says about his curmudgeonly desires. I KNOW his need to connect, I see it very clearly. And it kills me to think of that being unfulfilled. I see his actions as the result of trauma, see the way he treats me, treats everyone. And I know that, without professional help, he will not get better. He will not change, and be able to connect to another human being, have a healthy relationship. He won't get over his fear, his defensiveness, and his absolute need for control.
I am not professional help. I am a talented amatuer, who can easily do more harm than good with my own shit mucking up the emotional waters.
But, in the absence of his willingness to even see the need for professional help, I'm the best he's got. And that's kind of hard to walk away from. My first inclination for that sentence was to say "And that's kind of addictive", but I shied away from it. Which, I suppose, means it's truer than I'm willing to acknowledge right now...
I've been incredibly hard on myself lately. Honestly, I've been pretty much hating myself lately. My self esteem has been at an all time low. Part of that is my absolute disgust at my inability to either walk away or confront this situation head on, my inability to do something healthy for myself. I see it as weakness, and I DESPISE it.
I've told him before that, unless he got professional help for his anger management, I'd leave. And then I did everything in my power to make sure he didn't get angry at me again.
It worked. Very few kerfuffles ensued, and life was mostly peaceful on the surface. But the level of effort involved in making sure it stayed that way has taken a toll on my sense of self.
Ah, patterns. I felt this way when I was 19 and desperate to get away from my religion. I felt this way when I was 22 and desperate to get away from my hometown. I felt this way when I was 29, and desperate to break up with my boyfriend of 6 years. I'm 36, and I haven't broken these god damn patterns yet.
I will, though. Take notice, brain.
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