When I get frightened I want to run away. As a child I ran away in my mind and I still don’t remember much of the first eight or nine years of my life. For my entire adult life until perhaps five years ago, suicide was always my planned alternative if things got too bad. Five years ago, I finally broke and tried, unsuccessfully, to kill myself. After the third attempt I came to the conclusion that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. My reasons were very personal and I’m not going into them here, but I decided I wanted to find a way to heal instead.
It hasn’t been quick. It hasn’t been easy. The first real step I remember taking was to state out loud, “I don’t want to be suicidal anymore.” But, it was months before I actually wanted to live. I was deeply depressed at the time and didn’t truly believe it was possible to heal. Now it’s rare for me to get hit with a suicide impulse. On those rare occasions I have learned to stop and ask why I’m that frightened, rather than think up ways to die.
The “Run Aways” are probably a diluted version of that suicide impulse. Call them a step down or, maybe a step up, from suicide. When they hit, I don’t want to be near anyone, including my fiancé. We are currently having problems apart from this and have not yet found a way to settle some important issues.
As is fairly common for survivors of abuse, I originally agreed to do many things the way he wanted. I wanted to belong, I wanted to fit in and so I agreed to things I should not have. Now I resent him for my mistakes, not to mention be angry with myself for being a wimp. It’s not logical and it’s not fair, but the only way we can go forward as a couple is if I can be honest with both myself and him about what I need and what I want. Then we will either find a path together or, eventually decide we can’t make it.
Of course, this isn’t entirely one-sided. In the beginning he told me he wanted to change certain areas in his life. So far I see little evidence of the changes he promised and some of them are seriously important to me. Don’t get me wrong, I made at least one promise myself that I have not yet kept. I’m still working on it, more-or-less, but I haven’t made much progress.
I’m pretty sure most people do this to some extent. When you meet someone special, you tend to want to impress him or her. You put on your party face and sweep all of the unpleasant aspects (or at least the ones you consider unpleasant) under a rug. It’s only natural. Of course sooner or later the party ends and you come out of the bathroom in your old T-shirt with no makeup on and goop in your hair. If the other person doesn’t run screaming into the night, the relationship might just have a chance.
All of this is pretty normal. However my panic attacks and almost claustrophobic reaction during them, complicate things. My worst panic attacks seem to happen when I feel as though I have no alternatives. If I feel trapped, I freak out and want to run far, far away. I no longer have suicide as an option and I’ve just realized that I’ve never found another, less extreme, alternative. That will require some thought.
At the moment, there’s an additional problem. He has a contract job out of town and we decided that it’s not for long enough to justify moving. We very logically worked out how to deal with it and so he lives there during the week and comes home on weekends.
This all sounds well and good but I didn’t realize that I would feel abandoned. At the best of times I have trouble believing anyone loves me. Having him gone most of the time intensifies that and I’m not handling it well. My normal reaction (normal – not healthy) to this is to want to get the hell out of Dodge before he can tell me he doesn’t love me anymore. That way I would be leaving him rather than him leaving me. Again, it’s not logical but logic has little to do with it, especially in the midst of a panic attack.
On top of all of this, repressed memory has surfaced recently and it’s ugly. The memories aren’t very clear yet and much of the time my mind feels like a war zone. I had back-to-back panic attacks for over a week, severe nightmares and I’m getting only the bare minimum done as far as housework and errands go. Also, I haven’t cried yet because I still have little or no access to the emotions.
Right now I don’t want anyone near me. I feel as though all of my nerve endings are sticking out past my skin and everyone brushes up against them. On the other hand I want him to be here for me and resent it that he’s not. It’s a no win situation for him and I have been downright bitchy recently.
I hate this! I am being totally unreasonable much of the time. I change my mind about every 30 seconds or sit on the fence with a picket up my ass until I have to make a decision. I’m not particularly rational sometimes and the rest of the time I’m frightened, angry, or I feel as though I’ve been anesthetized.
To the best of my ability to tell, I need to remember at least parts of my childhood in order to heal. The memories are surfacing off and on anyway, so I have to accept my past and get through this. The way I lived before the breakdown wasn’t healthy and I’ve changed a lot in the past few years. I’ve chosen life now and that means healing. Healing means standing and facing the past – no more running. Plus there’s another part to it. Along with all the painful memories buried, there have to be other, happy memories. I want them. I want to remember.
In the meantime, I’ve got to find a way to recognize when the “Run Aways” hit. I need to find more constructive ways to deal with my fear and anger. What’s going on now, isn’t fair to him, to me, or to us.
I’m tired of running. I’m tired of being afraid. I’m really tired of panic attacks and I’m so incredibly tired of not being able to tell the difference between the “Run Aways” and what may or may not be serious problems in our relationship.
For now, the best I know to do is keep communications open, both internally and externally. I need to find and exercise some patience (anybody got some they can spare?) Also important, I need to grieve for the pain I experienced. Crying won’t solve all my problems, but the little girl I was wasn’t allowed to be afraid or angry. She buried it all –memory and emotion. The memory is surfacing. I must find a way to face the emotions also. Like it or not, I have to accept them. Hopefully, once I’ve dealt with some part of this, I will be able to move forward and get on with my life. Hopefully…
Carol has also written this month's poem, "All I Can Do."
Carol Y. Huber is a Wordsmith who writes Poetry, Essays and other ‘Stuff’. Once upon a time she had the unofficial job title of “The Paradox Lady”. She kept it. Nowadays she is somewhat known in Dallas poetry circles for both solo performance poetry and as a member of “Fine Piece of Mischief”; an ensemble group of some of fine female poets. Her writings ask questions, pose challenges, and often offer possible answers. Any answers are offered with a gleam in her eye and this reminder:
Answers that work for her may or may not work for anyone else.
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