So, my blog is usually about me. It's always about me, but I often cover things that help others. That makes me feel pretty good when that happens. My last blog was pretty much me cutting myself wide open and laying it out there about something I've dealt with, or ignored, for years. As a combat arena (not actual combat for clarification) veteran, I can promise you when they tell you PTSD is different for everyone--although there are always some similarities--it is. Why is it different for each of us? Because PTSD does something that no other disorder does. It's not just about what caused the PTSD. It's also about every single bag of emotional crap that you had before you came in. The PTSD door is one way, and once you've gone through it, even the most trivial emotional baggage can become overwhelming. I'll have to admit that I thought about jerking that previous blog down, and then I saw the number of readers. It must have meant something to get that many readers this time. It even got shared by someone. So even though it was a total exposure of my worst problem, it was also meaningful to what someone else might be experiencing. I couldn't pull it down.
When I walked through that PTSD door and it slammed behind me, I had no idea that I had even walked through it. PTSD from my understanding then was from actual combat. My girlfriend that was a hospital corpsman (medic) that was in Kuwait City when it came under seige--she had PTSD. I just had bad memories. Her PTSD was totally different than mine, so I couldn't have PTSD. Hers was different for two reasons--she had a totally different life than me before it and I had a totally different life than her before it. Almost all PTSD veterans report some amount of fear of abandonment, but not always for the same reasons. Some may be too afraid of being judged--very common actually. Some like me, came in with a fear of abandonment. I was married to a cheating idiot and my mother was gone by the time I was 9. Being married to that idiot while I was deployed was very, very unhelpful. If I had a normal relationship, like my girlfriend did, just losing my mother might not have been amplified. I had long accepted that she was gone. Probably why, after going through that door, it was now women that I could have more solid bonds. My mother for all of the faults I like to joke about, like Green Eggs and Ham, was a wonderful woman. My Grams had been my rock. The closest relationships I have developed since that door have always been with girlfriends. I'm reluctant to develop any of my male friends to the point of being "family". So the fear of abandonment isn't about my mother. In fact, when I went through counseling, my mother was rarely part of the conversation. It became a non-starter pretty fast. But Daddy issues? I was Daddy's little girl. I was kind of spoiled rotten. But ok, maybe a little--Daddy had remarried and it wasn't good on me but I had been 12. Yet, Daddy and I had started to develop a very tight and solid relationship again while I was in counseling. It also became a non-starter. My father and I were like two peas in pod sometimes and I think he liked that I was a lot like my mother. So, I don't sound like the ideal abandonment case. My girlfriend actually had a very estranged relationship with her family. If anyone should have walked through that door with mommy and daddy issues, she would've been a prime candidate.
So where does this fear of abandonment come from? My friend didn't have it. She had a solid relationship. He was there for her before the darkness came and he stood strong beside her though the darkness. She had no fear of abandonment at all. I, on the other hand, probably suffer from an abandonment disorder now. I usually have nothing bad to say about my ex. It's not his fault, but yes, actually it was. Don't get me wrong, shit happens. You're supposed to suck it up like a buttercup and move on. And I did. I threw him out the door so fast it made everybody's head spin. My best friends tried to tell me to slow down, breath, think. Hell no, I had made up my mind. He'd been cheating before we even got married. Out the damn door was the best answer. Then reject everyone that came through my door after a while. That became my solution. Prior to my ex, I was just not interested in getting serious with anyone--I had plans, I had goals, and nothing--let alone someone--was going to get in the middle of that. With my ex, well, he was one of my best buddies--I'd say friends, but I'm not sure about that anymore. Our other friends joked that he followed me around like a puppy. I don't remember it that way. He gaffed off dates to hang out with the group, but one of our mutual friends back then was quick to point out only if I was going to be around. I don't remember anyone before that always putting me first. It actually made me feel special. I remember that feeling when I look at pictures of us before we were dating. I also remember my Granddaddy always protecting my Grams. In social settings, letting her flutter off on her own and then checking on her to make sure she was fine periodically. And God forbid if anyone messed with her, Granddaddy was 6'5". Grams was only 5'2". You messed with Grams and he was going to be there ready to knock you across the room. That is how my ex made me feel before we started dating, and that's what had won me over. (Sure we could go into what his issues were--find justifications, excuses and some might even be valid, but those are his problems not mine.)
So, he went from being my great protector to being a horrible, unsupportive, cheating jerk who literally never had my back. It was pretty bad when one of his friends, a guy who wasn't that fond of me, told me point blank that he didn't deserve me. He wasn't trying to get with me--he had a solid relationship at the time. But he had gotten to know me by then, and he just said that there was no way he was going to do right by me. I found out later that conversation coincided with the first time my ex cheated on me--before we were even married. Why even marry me? Well, because I was like his mom and he was like his dad. The difference is his mom was raised divorce was not an option and I was raised by Granddaddy to show his ass to the door.
So I'm trying now, to focus on the healthy examples that I have, and I've made myself a promise no more "unviables". No one is perfect, but I never said I was looking for perfection. I always was looking for just perfect for me. In our hearts we know what that is when we meet it even it scares the hell out of us. But no more, well, I don't like this, this is a bad thing, or whatever. If it's easy to come up with the laundry list of why I shouldn't date him, I shouldn't be dating him. That's my wash, rinse, repeat cycle starting back up. No more. My Granddaddy wasn't perfect, but the things that were right about him--well, everything that was right was always the person he was around me. My father had a temper from hell (I come by it honest), but my father was educated, smart, hilarious, and a damn good man. Never judged anyone and treated everyone equal. That was one of the same qualities he and my Granddaddy had, and probably one of the reasons my mother was smitten. It's time for me to start being less afraid and a lot more, as a friend put it, smarter than that. So it might take practice. Like I said in the previous blog, I can barely hold it together when I meet someone viable. All those emotions can come flooding back--the flashback of how I felt in Turkey, how I felt on those phone calls, and then the anger when I got home that protected what was left. It's not easy to control. But it's time I try and learn to cope with that too.
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