I’ve left him, so why don’t I feel happy?
Posted: August 26, 2008 Filed under: Domestic abuse, escaping abuse, Uncategorized | Tags: coping with abuse, Domestic abuse, feelings, happiness after abuse, leaving an abusive marriage 4 Comments »This is so confusing. Okay, so I’m glad I’ve left but my feelings are all over the place. One minute I’m lying on the couch in my new house, looking around at all my things and feeling all cosy and tranquil and the next I am down and depressed feeling like life has got the better of me! I guess it’s normal, after what I have been through, but sometimes my mind wanders to negative thoughts and “if onlys”. I’m trying to be positive but it is difficult. I also still feel quite lonely and isolated. I’m not meeting new people in my new place and that scares me (the fact that I am not meeting them and the prospect of having to get out there and meet them!). My health is not great right now either. I have Asthma and it has been playing up these last couple of weeks (the stress I guess) and I am feeling tired and lethargic. I used to walk miles with the dog but it all seems too much right now. I’m slowly, gradually starting to sleep better and I like the fact that I can wake up at 2am and go get a book to read from the shelf without having to creep into the spare room for fear of waking him.
There is still stuff to sort out between us and I guess that is making me a little unsettled. I am hoping that one day, in the future, I will wake up and this will all be a distant memory and I will feel happy, settled and content.
For me, one of the biggest mindfucks I’ve had to deal with is being in a happy place, doing happy things, and somehow *not* being happy. It immediately awakens that little voice he left in my head, that says things like, “You thought taking the easy way out would work, didn’t you? But it was never his fault, it was all because of you. And look at you, here’s the proof. You got everything you wanted and you’re still all fucked-up.”
I had generally planned on going into therapy after I’d left him, but kind of kept putting it off until the time felt right. I just didn’t want to overload myself with things to deal with and was, I think, frightened of having a professional tell me, “Oh, I see here on this psychological assessment that you’re a liar and crazy and your husband never abused you at all. Actually, my professional opinion that has the weight of law is that you should go back to him, and actually he’s standing outside looking rather smug right now.” Something like that.
One day I was at work just barely holding on, having trouble breathing, concentrating, having tunnel vision. I felt like that every day, I always had, and just forced myself through it by calling myself lazy, stupid, fat, etc. I was having more and more trouble lately, it seemed, working through it, staying on track, just generally being functional. That caused all these horrible thoughts to swirl up; that I was intrinsically fucked-up somehow, that I couldn’t function because I wasn’t normal, because there was something wrong with me. I mean, there had to be. I had thought it was because of being abused, but here I am, not being abused, and unable to function normally.
Because I had some training in psychology, I sat down and quietly wrote out my symptoms and looked them over. Suddenly, it occurred to me: I am having a panic attack. All these symptoms are the symptoms of panic attacks. I have panic attacks every day. I have been having daily panic attacks for several years. Panic attacks are the result of trauma, not a “Harriet is fucked up” gene. I have been traumatized. I have never recognized they were panic attacks before, because I wasn’t safe. To admit I was panicking was to admit something was wrong, and there was nowhere I could get help, nobody who would help me. So I just learned to grin and bear them. I realized the reason they felt more intense now, the reason I was less able to work through them, was because *I no longer had to.* I was safe, which meant I could let down some of my constant guard, could show some vulnerability. And that meant all those terrible feelings I’d been penning up came bursting out. The panic attacks I’d been able to ignore became massive and crippling, not because they were more intense, but because I was allowing myself to *feel* things for once. That was intense enough, without the simultaneous realization that *I don’t know how to deal with my feelings, oh shit.*
That’s when I finally put myself in therapy, because I was no longer the kind of person, and no longer living in the kind of place, where I could ignore something like a daily panic attack, where I could “work through it.” I was now the kind of person who allowed myself to express those things, and fix them, and admit they were happening.
I say it’s a mindfuck because here I was, getting “better,” and feeling worse. I was at the strongest place in my life, and had never felt more weak and vulnerable. I had made such a healthy decision, and could seem to do nothing but burst into hysterical tears every few minutes.
I always felt split into two minds about it. The part of me that I felt like was real, and okay, and the part I wanted to be, that part recognized that even when I felt terrible, it was a *better* kind of terrible. Like a broken bone getting set. It was hurt, but it was a healing hurt.
The other part of me, the one that had been abused so long and hard I’d started doing it to myself, wasn’t willing to let go. I’d get depressed and anxious and frightened, and I’d say to myself, “You see? You see how it is? You see how you are? Oh, you thought things would be different. But you know you’ll always end up this way, weak and fucked-up and worthless.” I finally got up the guts to tell my therapist about those thoughts, and she pointed out to me that they were the exact kind of things an abuser would say to a victim to make the victim think everything was their fault, that everything about them was wrong.
That way felt *wrong* to me, but it felt familiar, and easy, and every time I fell back into it, there was a sigh of relief. My therapist told me that was okay, too. Learning a completely new way of life was exhausting, and every now and again, when I felt like I’d had too much, I sort of “relapsed,” started thinking bad things about myself, treated myself poorly. But I did those things because they offered me relief, gave me a rest, made me feel better, in a way. That was a healthy impulse, to take care of myself when I needed, to withdraw from what was hurting when I needed a break. Eventually I could learn to do that in a healthier way, but there wasn’t anything intrinsically wrong with me. Everything was, intrinsically, okay and in working condition. I could recognize when I’d had enough, and recognize I needed a break. I just needed to learn to do something, like, eat brownies and watch bad TV instead of calling myself a worthless whore. I just wasn’t used to treating myself nicely when I felt weak and afraid, I was so used to being punished for having feelings. It’s been a hard skill to learn, being gentle with myself.
It still is. Sometimes I get so tired of all this health. Of having to work so hard for things that seem to come easily to others. Of being gentle with myself when it’s such a chore, and I don’t always like myself very much. And I try to remember when I “relapse,” when I start telling myself I’m no good, it’s just a mistake. It doesn’t mean it’s true, it doesn’t mean I fail forever and ever. It just means I have to be nicer to myself. Sometimes I feel like I can’t possibly love myself, or like myself, or spend THE REST OF MY LIFE taking care of all my weaknesses and stupidity and on and on and on. And in those times, I tell myself I don’t have to. I don’t have to like or love myself. I just have to make a commitment. I have to commit to myself that I will give myself the things I need to live, like food, like rest, and I will not force myself to do things incompatible with life, like working myself into the ground, or letting others make me feel afraid or worthless, or making myself feel afraid or worthless just for being alive.
I really had to learn that my feelings were okay. I was so used to having certain things be inexplicably not-okay, and only having certain emotions be appropriate. Acting happy is okay. Acting considerate of others is okay. Acting compliant is okay. Being understanding is okay. Being angry is not-okay. Being jealous is not-okay. Being depressed is not-okay. Being hurt is not-okay. Talking about it is not-okay. Needing comfort is so not-okay, in fact, it is the wrongest thing ever. I really had to tell myself, everything is okay. If I feel like shit, that is okay. I am okay feeling like shit. There is nobody to judge me anymore. I am okay the way I am, even if the way I am is shitty.
The friends thing, I drove myself crazy about that for the longest time. I felt like it was another thing that was not-okay, if I didn’t have friends. I mean, everybody would know I was wrong, wouldn’t they? Me and my ex broke up and he has friends and I don’t so obviously I must be the fucked-up one. I can’t even *make* friends, oh my god, I am crazy. That was a big bad idea that I still have trouble with, but my therapist gave me some good advice. She told me maybe I didn’t need to be piling more shit on my plate. Maybe not having friends right now was okay. And I could deal with all my “BUT I NEED FRIENDS” feelings later. For now, maybe I could say, “I am taking a break,” and let that be that.
Once I decided to do that, I found being friendly a lot easier, because MY WHOLE LIFE AND THE KIND OF PERSON I AM no longer rode on making somebody laugh at my jokes. I knew how every interaction with a person would end, because I had made the decision that I was not going to make friends right now. If I talked to a person and was friendly and happy, yay! But I’m not going to pursue it further, because I am not going to make friends right now. If I talked to a person and it was rotten and uncomfortable, well, it’s a good thing I’m not looking to make friends right now.
I still had this idea that I was some kind of messed-up weirdo for having to “take a break” from making friends. Then I talked to a guy I knew who had just had his first kid. Suddenly, all his time and energy was focused on his family. He had very little extra energy, and so the little he did, he could only really focus it on the people who mattered the most to him. Suddenly, all these perfectly okay friendships he’d had became distant, because he didn’t have the energy to pursue these people, didn’t have the time to deal with their bullshit that was perfectly acceptable before. He didn’t have to make a decision not to make friends right now, it was really made for him because of his limited resources. But he was happier than I’d ever seen him, having cut out some of that chaff, and figuring out who in the world was most dedicated to him, most dependable, most worthwhile, and really gave something back, energized him instead of taking his energy. I stopped feeling bad for having to “take a break,” because obviously this was something normal people had to do at times in their lives, too, and it was perfectly okay.
Now that a lot more time has passed, and I feel like I do have the energy to go out and make friends, I find I don’t really want to. I really treasure my solitude, and I’m glad that I didn’t create a lot of relationships I have to maintain, because if I had, I wouldn’t have the quiet life I do now, which I love *hard.* I spend less time reminding myself, “I don’t have to make friends, that’s okay, I really don’t,” and more time thinking, “Man, I can’t wait till I can leave this party, because I really want to go home and write a story about zombies while drinking vodka chocolate soy milk.”
[...] I’ve Left Him, so Why Don’t I Feel Happy? [...]
That was an awesome response. I also have recently broken up with someone who abused me, controlled me and manipulated me for the past year and 2 months. Now I find myself sitting here trying to deconstruct feelings I’ve never felt before. I try to stifle these feelings with my old habits of defense, and just try to avoid ‘feeling’ at all costs because of how confused I am to be so lonely and yet so free. You see, when I was with this man…ahem….boy I should say, I completely lost track of who I was. After he closed the door for the FINAL time I just stood there instantly feeling helpless and more alone than I ever have in my entire life. I’m left dumbfounded when I think about how this shithole relationship was infact the evil spawn of the devil! and I STILL miss him this much!!!?????
!!!)
I find that in an abusive relationship what isn’t normal, indeed becomes normal, what’s considered textbook abuse quickly turns into something that can be tolerated and after a while, okay.
The human brain is designed to adapt, and adapt it does. In a shitty relationship you just….get used to how bad it is. You get a sort of warped way of thinking. That is why I believe it is so hard to leave and stay gone in a bad relationship. An animal will always stay by his abuser because he knows no other. I am still working on remembering who I was just over a short year ago, funny how ONE person can single handedly break your foundation right under your own two feet.
I’m lonely too, I’m very lonely.I don’t want to reach out to my friends, hell they’re all in healthy happy relationships. Besides I’ve chosen to keep to myself for now, as depressed as I feel, I’m not in the mood lately to hear I told you so. I feel almost like a shell of who I was before he came along. But as time slowely goes by, and my chest pain and heart palpations one day subside (yes, palpations and I’m only in my mid twenties
The stress will get lighter and lighter and ill be able to reconnect with the things I enjoyed and be able to be social again as well. And when I think about him ill make sure to think about all the horrible things he did to me (attempting to throw me over board on a cruise because I had a cigarette, demolishing two phones, riping apart my bridesmaid dress for my brothers wedding, cheating, breaking doors off hinges, body slamming me,riping the cloths right off my body, covering me with bruises….etc..the list goes on and on and on)and I think most of the things that have happened will now keep me from a losing battle. As the saying goes….
‘THIS TOO SHALL PASS’.I look at it this way,I’ve never had one certain feeling that lasted a lifetime. This knot in my stomach will go away as the stress, sleepless nights, boredom, lonleyness, the peculiar wanting to call him?…..it WILL ALL PASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Sorry if this was chopy, I’m writing on my phone:)
You are absolutely right frenchie, this will pass. I am finding time is the greatest healer. Abusers steal your identity. Living with an abuser is like being slowly turned into an Android as s/he takes more and more control over your life. Ultimately, you become dependent on them. Strange as it may seem, but if you think about it, it makes sense: if you have been made to give over your life to someone else so that they are in charge of almost every aspect of it, it is going to be very hard to learn who you are again and function as an independent person. But you can and will do it – given time. You were an independent person before you met him/her, you will be so again, only this time you’ll be even stronger than you were. It seems odd but my self-esteem is in far better nick now than it was before I met my abusive husband. I asked myself “how can that be?”, surely, having endured years of abuse my self-esteem should be at rock bottom? But then I realised just how much self belief, courage, strength of character (and all sorts of other esteem stuff) it actually takes to come back from that point of virtual non-existence at the hands of a narcissistic control freak. To leave your relationship and do what you, I, and many others have done is to go right outside our ‘comfort zone’, smash the boundaries of our existence to date to smithereens and thus get to a point where you really truly do value who you are. It’s mind-blowingly awsome. Congratulate yourself that you have come this far and just know that all those feelings about wanting to call him and stay in touch are all normal. You can either respond to them or ignore them – there is no right or wrong. I can tell you, however, that his motivation to control and thus abuse you will always be there – always! And, I can also tell you that his bag of options, methods and ways to do it will never empty. Abusers can find ever more creative ways in which to abuse their partners – many of which it is hard for someone not from their world and without their mindset to understand. The best thing is to resist any temptation for contact, if you can, and over time it will pass. Focus on re-building your life – for you! I wish you so much happiness, I really do. You are doing great!