Betrayal Trauma & PTSD

I married my abusive mother.

That’s the deepest truth.

He disrespected me to the core.

Just like she did.

That’s not how you treat a wife.

If I’m going to teach a man how to treat me, I’d rather teach my son.

He turned on me.

Like a light switch.

My switch turns to light.

His switch turns to dark.

Started threatening and harassing me.

Stalking and stealing from me.

Then gaslit me and told me it didn’t happen.

But I know it did and I documented it.

To the outside world he seems so nice.

But I know differently.

I’ve seen differently.

I’ve experienced differently.

Now I don’t trust him.

Now I don’t know him.

Then came the deeper betrayal.

The pattern emerged again.

One after the next.

His mask came flying off.

My anger and rage came.

I told him exactly what I think of him.

The patterns of fight or flight.

I was openly fighting - fighting for my voice and fighting for my life.

Somewhere in there the flight came.

The fight or flight? It ebbs and flows.

Can’t stand to be around him.

Don’t want anything to do with him.

His own energy betrays his words.

Won’t speak to him unless I have to.

Then the physical symptoms showed up.

The depression cycle.

The headaches.

The insomnia.

The drained spirit.

The exhaustion.

The inflammation in my body.

PTSD they call it. Post-traumatic stress disorder. If it’s bad enough, they call it complex PTSD or c-PTSD.

Again.

Pushed me back for what felt like 10 steps.

Then I had to be the bigger person.

Had to compromise with someone who betrayed me.

Never had to do that before.

Usually, I walk away. Not always clean, but always on my terms.

This time was different.

All to get away.

Divorcing my past in order to have a future.

The patterns, they hurt.

Of disrespect and betrayal.

Like, my body hurts.

Like, my heart hurts.

Like, my soul hurts.

I hurt for all the prior versions of me.

But she’s strong.

She’s resilient.

She’s a survivor.

I will get through this, too.

Because now I know.

There is no light without the dark.

I feel it so deeply in my bones.

The joy and the sorrow.

It comes in waves.

I know I’m healing because I can feel.

For the longest time I couldn’t feel.

I didn’t feel.

I didn’t cry.

I either acted out.

Or held it in.

And didn’t even know.

Because I was numb.

At least this time I’m not numb.

I can verbalize the hurt.

The betrayal by those closest to me.

Yes, it takes time.

But the answers, they come quicker now.

The patterns, they emerge faster.

I’m sad for the versions of me who put up with so much stuff I didn’t deserve.

I settled for people who never truly had my back.

I’m not settling anymore.

Rock bottom, it hurts.

But there’s only one way to go now.

And that’s up.

Picking myself up, with wisdom and lessons learned.

I have so much gratitude for my life.

At least I am alive.

It means so much, I’ll say it again: I am alive.

And that means I can heal.

I can heal from the self-betrayal.

And if I can heal, I can love again.

I can love myself and the new world I get to create.

From every ending comes a new beginning.

What ends with me? This generational PTSD.

And that new beginning? It starts with me, too.

Full circle.