Escape

People with PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) sit where they can escape more easily. For years at church, I would sit in the same place, close to the side door, for an easy escape if I needed it. I would feel that anxiety. Some find it curious that why I would feel that way with people I knew versus people I did not know. It was the people I knew that hurt me, not the stranger.

A therapist asked me to move out of my comfort pew into the center section of the church, meet some other people. It is like prolonged exposure type of therapy. My husband knew of my angst about this and was with me each step of the way, holding onto me to do this, offering encouraging words. I wanted to bolt pretty often at the times I did this. With the prolonged exposure and checking the facts that those people were not out to get me, I settled down and began to see the different views.

I transferred this skill into other areas of my life such as at meetings or events. I figured out that the people around us don’t really care about me or have any investment in me. I am a grain of sand on the beach in the world of people.

With my husband, I have had feelings of wanting to leave, escape. It is not because of him. It is me becoming more open-hearted and vulnerable, fear of letting love in and feeling loved with that connection. “Love” is painful and abusive was what I learned. He tells me every day that he loves me. I was perplexed why unlovable me would be lovable to him. When I thank him for loving me, he says, “My pleasure!” Ahhhh.

After my son was born, I was afraid to let him in, become attached. I had so many important things taken away from me, I was sure he was going to be taken away from me, too, just because someone can. After he was born, someone in a threatening tone said that if I did the smallest thing wrong, she would have him taken away from me. We navigated together with my healing and his growing up. Today, I am so  touched with his loyalty to me, how he tells me often he loves me (without me prompting). Again, why love me?

Well, after all these years, my parents fed me faulty information. I am worthy and lovable after all.