Handling body memories while dealing with real life and in my case children, is not easy is it? I had come on here to ask how others handle it. But I guess I already know, because I am handling it, whether it feels that way or not. My children have eaten, they are busy playing/ watching TV, they are safe and oblivious to what I’m going through (and for that, I am glad).
I’m not sure of the exact cause but anxiety, dissociation and then body memories started about an hour ago. I assume I was triggered, I remember an intrusive memory but not the specific trigger. I’ve done pretty well up until this point, the day went better than I had hoped, I got things done and also managed to have some time to play with my youngest child. But now, both boys are home and the responsibility I have for them suddenly feels huge. It’s dark outside, everywhere is quiet and I can feel myself dissociating through the body memories. I know I am triggered because it almost always causes a rage that I have to make an effort to control. I have that bubble of rage in my chest right now. I’m fighting to stay rational when my oldest child goes upstairs, I fight the urge to tell him to stay where I can see him. But I am winning and that should probably feel good. Perhaps it would if it wasn’t such an effort all the damn time.
And how do I feel good when my head is throbbing, my thoughts are foggy and there’s a big ball of fiery rage pressing on my lungs, restricting every breath? How do I take delight in my win, when my body aches, my inner thighs, my pelvis, my abdomen from something that was done to me long ago? I hate this, I hate the body memories so much, they aren’t real pains, they don’t exist anymore, what was done is over now. But oh how hard it is to smile at my children, how difficult it is to sit on the floor putting together duplo towers when I am feeling 14 again, when I feel the pains as if I am being attacked right now. And it’s so hard to hug my beautiful children, because I am fighting that rigid, frozen feeling body memories bring.
I’m doing the right things, reminding myself to breathe properly, drinking water to help me ground, surrounding myself in light, pillows and blankets, trying desperately to keep the children happy so they don’t scream and fight. It doesn’t make this better though and it doesn’t make it right.
Why should I have to fight so hard all the time? Isn’t it bad enough that I had to live it the first time? Why do I have to feel as if he’s with me now, when he has long gone?
Sometimes it is just too hard and it gets me down so quickly. And I hate him for that. I hate “him” so very much right now. 😦