Is It Over Yet?!

I hate this time of year. Christmas has never been my favorite. I have too many bad memories of family brawls around the tree. Too many throw downs around the table. LOL. Being 5000km away from my family helps a bit. It frees me from any obligation I might have to take part and do the Christmas thing. The downside of that, is that now I have to do the Christmas thing with Kyle’s family. 

I mentioned before how me and Kyle’s mother don’t really get along. Actually, I hate the fucking woman if I’m being honest. She is a victim-minded, user who does nothing but mooch off of people. 

Two Christmases ago, Kyle and his ex were in Arizona. On the last day before they were heading home, MIL calls Kyle and begs him to come rescue her from her sisters house (she had been mooching off of her for 4 years and had out-stayed her welcome). Kyle, being the knight in shining armour he is, drove to CALIFORNIA to pick this woman up and bring her back to Canada. 

She was here for a couple of months before I entered Kyle’s world. He and his ex broke up and he and his mother were here alone. Kyle had to buy her wine that she drinks everyday and her pack of smokes she needs everyday, and paid for everything else like prescriptions, groceries, and oh of course, hair appointments. It’s fucking disgusting what some parents will put on their kids. 

By the time I showed up, she was making herself pretty comfortable. Kyle wasn’t happy about the arrangement but was too scared to rock the boat and upset her. She attempted to kill herself years ago and has held that over Kyle’s head ever since. 

The bulk of mine and Kyle’s relationship issues revolve around that woman. It took us almost a year to get her to fill out the paperwork for assistance. She has enough health issues to get disability, but flat out refused. She’d throw a tantrum whenever she needed attention about “how I was trying to get rid of her” and in turn me and Kyle would fight. I actually tried to leave a couple of times. I was literally at the airport with all of my belongings, after driving the 2 hours it takes to get to the airport. But because my dog freaked out they refused to fly her. I had to call Kyle and ask to come back. I was devastated. 

To this day, I still don’t know what transpired between him and his mother that day I left. She welcomed me back with open arms and the “I love you, we’re family” bullshit. She knew she was responsible for me leaving. The good that came out of that horrible time is that both Kyle and his mother got their shit together and got the paperwork filled out for assistance. It took 3 months for her to complete the paperwork and send it in. Kyle and I fought about it the whole time. 

We JUST found out (4 months later) that she got approved and will be receiving assistance from the government. Which means she will be moving out! On Kyle’s dime no doubt, but at this point, whatever it takes for her to get the fuck out of our basement I’m okay with!

Me and her had a couple of blowouts and our last one we decided to take a different approach with each other. The problem is, it requires me to be completely fake. I know you don’t know me, but I am the realest person you will ever meet. I don’t force anything. I hate being fake and being around fake. And now I’m forced to LIVE fake. She thinks things are good between us. Because when we’re not fighting she thinks things are really great. 

Things are not great. Living with this woman is killing me. She is the most disgusting, desperate, user piece of shit I have ever been forced to get along with. I’ve encountered lots of people like her throughout my life. I’ve met her a million times in the presence of others. I have spent my life making sure that I don’t have people like that in my space. 

But because I fell in love with Kyle, I take on so much that I spent my life trying to get rid of. I can’t even talk freely about how I feel about all this because Kyle freaks out. I get it; I can call my Mom names and talk trash about her, but if someone else does I’ll go to war to defend her. He does the same. 

So befriending (her at the start) didn’t work, fighting her (since then) hasn’t worked, so now we are trying to fake it. I noticed that when I am nice and show concern about her, Kyle takes an attitude with her and is a bit mean. Like he’s NOT defending her. When I’m with, or for her, he turns against her. That is fucked up, but it’s true. When I was against her, Kyle was against me because he was defending her. Not that he disagreed with me. But he didn’t want her to hear and know that, because God forbid she get upset and actually try to kill herself again.  

This woman is a master manipulator. She says what she should be doing, thinking, feeling, but they are only words. She says what buys her the most sympathy. It’s her birthday tomorrow and I’m like half her age.  She hasn’t been through half the shit I have in life, hasn’t been wronged like I have, and doesn’t have the health and pain levels I have, and yet we have to listen to her “poor me” stories every day. 

If it was anyone else, I would have told them to not bring their negativity into my space already, because that’s who I am. I am real. I am mature enough to say ” You know what, we’re 2 different kinds of people being forced to live in a shitty situation together. Can we just agree to stay out of each other’s lives as much as possible?!” But no, not here. You can’t do that here. That leads to drama which she thrives off of. 

And to be honest, I don’t have the energy for another fight. It’s exhausting. My soul is tired. My heart is broken. It makes me sad to think of who I’ve had to become to survive this relationship with all its baggage. It makes me feel resentful towards Kyle a lot. I spend a lot of time wishing I didn’t love him, because then I could leave this situation with his horrible mother. 

Instead, I stay. I fake. I survive. It makes me sad to think about the fact that Kyle really doesn’t even know the real me. Because I can’t be REAL here. I have to be some fake ass version of myself just to keep the peace and get along. I don’t dance or sing or joke around. I can’t. That would reveal a side of myself that wouldn’t survive in this environment. I literally feel like I’ve been in survival mode since I woke up to my second shot at life, but definitely through the entirety of this relationship. 

So now, we are only days away from Christmas, and her birthday tomorrow. She is suppose to be leaving tomorrow to go to a friend’s house for a few days. Although she mentioned she might cancel information shes not feeling well.

 A few fights ago, the topic of Christmas came up and I said how fucking wonderful it was going to be to have ANOTHER Christmas ruined by having to include her. (Sarcasm runs deep through my blood). She must have heard because she made arrangements to not be here. 

As bad as I feel about her feeling like she has to leave, I feel worse thinking about her staying. 

This year Kyle’s Dad and step-mom are having Christmas at their place since they just moved here a couple of months ago. So of course she would have to come with us. Weird hey?! Going to your ex husband’s house for dinner with his wife and THEIR family?! Nope, not to the MIL. She’d be there with bells on,;acting like it was her party. She makes me sick. 

Today I am doing my Christmas baking. I told her I would make some for her to take away with her. She BETTER still be going away!! I will also be making supper tonight, (her favorite) to celebrate her birthday and Christmas early because she’s SUPPOSE TO BE LEAVING TOMORROW!!! LOL!!

It bothers me how much time and energy I put into this woman. It’s exhausting. And Kyle doesn’t even seem to realize the stress and pressure it puts on me. In turn, I get depressed and angry. I get sad knowing I can’t be myself, and in turn, unhappy until she’s not a part of my every day life anymore. I don’t know how much longer that will be, and I don’t know how much more I can take. 

This relationship has cost me so much. If it wasn’t for the fact that this whole relationship has been divinely guided from the start, I’d say I was crazy for staying. In my heart I know I can’t walk away from this kind of love over his mother. But God help me, I can’t understand why I am being punished by this kind of lesson in my life. 

To all of you who read this, thank you so much for your support in my writing. I know we are all struggling in our own ways. Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays to those who are into it. And to those who struggle with this time of year, I give a virtual hug to you. Be strong. We’ll get through it. It’s almost over!

-A.M.

Dating Disabled

​I knew Kyle back when we were teenagers. We liked each other but never really got a chance to be together. He moved away, I moved away, and life happened. Facebook allowed us to stay in touch over the years and then, after having random dreams about him I couldnt restrain myself any further. I wrote him a message. 

We lived on opposite sides of the country but after talking non-stop for months, he offered to buy me a plane ticket to fly across the country to see him. We were both curious whether our feelings from way back when had survived the last 15 years of life. They did, and they were getting stronger. 

I flew back and forth a couple of times for the first 6 months of our relationship. Then I made the move. I packed up my life in 4 Rubbermaid containers and 2 suitcases, grabbed my cat and dog, and moved across the country. (I really don’t recommend it. it’s very stressful!)

Kyle has had 2 back surgeries over the last year and a half. So we’ve had a lot of heavy storylines in our relationship from day 1. We joke that we are practicing the “sickness and health” part just to be sure! My disabled ass was with him every step of the way. Neither surgery helped him and at 33, he is now disabled too. 

He is going through the hardest of times, the beginning of this journey. I have 7 years of accepting this life under my belt, but this is just new to him. 

Kyle is a very proud man. A Millwright by trade, and amazing at his job. He broke all kinds of records, one being a plant coordinator at a young age of 30. As a successful young person myself, (a project coordinator at 20) I understand both the pride and the struggle of no longer being able to work at the job you do so well.

When you become disabled you lose your sense of identity.  Everything changes, including your mood and outlook. For most people in chronic pain, the level of tolerance for stress decreases.  I use to be able to thrive under stress and pressure, but now it literally cripples me into submission and I can’t even get out of bed. Kyle is now the same way. 

Being disabled makes for some very interesting situations in our relationship. We usually end up fighting when one of us isn’t feeling well and lash out. We are both just as guilty. 

The toughest part about being in a disabled relationship is the constant ebb and flow of determining who needs the break the most. On days where I can’t move, Kyle steps up and takes over. Whenever it’s him that isn’t able to move, I take over. Some days we change roles multiple times, because some days are worse than others. 

We both have the strong desire to take care of one another, and try to make things better, which causes both balance and frustration. Frustration, because the only thing more frustrating than being disabled and struggling yourself, is watching someone you love go through it and you can’t do a damn thing about it. 

It breaks my heart to watch Kyle be in pain and suffer. Even though I’m in the same boat, I just wish I could take his from him and bare it all so that he doesn’t have to. He feels the same about wanting to save me. 

This is how we dance in our relationship. We move to the beat of life, we sway and step, only to change the lead half way through. 

Relationships are all about give and take, and I think with both of us being disabled, we exercise the “give and take” a lot more than the norm. You could say we “dance” more than the average couple. 

I believe my past experiences have prepared me for this relationship, and the journey we are taking together. I feel I was trained in my own disabled experiences to be well equipped to help Kyle through his own health journey. 

When you look back at your life and can actually see how “convenient” it was to have a certain experience, as its currently helping me in my today. You have to wonder if every step we take is divinely guided. Of course, you can probably guess my thoughts and feelings on that answer by now!

What horrible experience from your past do you feel is currently helping you in your life? Do you look back on the steps you’ve taken and see that all of it has better prepared you for your present situation? Do you think your path has been divinely guided?

-A.M.

Buying & Selling

As I mentioned earlier, Kyle and I have been working hard to prep the house to sell. Having stairs when both of us are disabled just doesn’t make sense. We don’t get to utilize the space in the basement, and if his mother didn’t live down there at the moment, it would literally be a waste of space. 

We also have a huge set of stairs out back that we’ve been having to use while training the puppies. Did I mention we have 5 dogs?! LoL. 

Between the stairs, and needing more space (for all the dogs), we have decided to sell. 

I purchased my first home (by myself) when I was 21 years old. Having been homeless only 2 years prior to that, it was a pretty big deal that I was able to turn my life around. I landed a good job, then got an apartment, a brand new car, and then was able to buy my own house. 

I lived in that house up until I had my NDE, and because of the complications during surgery, and then not being able to walk, I wasn’t able to live in my own house anymore. There were too many stairs and I wasn’t able to do stairs at that time. 

I stayed at my father’s house following my hospital stay because it was all one level and had no stairs. I stayed there until I was able to conquer the stairs, and then I went home. 

After the domestic dispute with my ex, (The night I got PTSD – I write about this in an upcoming blog post) I never stayed at my house again. I emptied it out, rented it out for a few months, and then sold it altogether. 

I lost everything after my trauma. I was unable to work, unable to pay for my car (they repo’ed that) and had to sell my house. I sold all of my smaller items of value to try and keep the car and the house, but when push came to shove it all had to go. 

I sold my house by myself. I’m pretty into real estate as a hobby so I tried my hand at it, and had a great experience. I saved myself an ass load of money in what I would have paid in real estate commission, and closed the book on that chapter of my life. 

Although selling my house was way more stressful than buying it, it wasn’t near as stressful as selling Kyle’s house this time around. He bought this house by himself when he was 20. So the pride of that accomplishment is understood by the both of us. 

This house has only been listed for a week and we just got a viewing request for tonight. I am beside myself with the excitement, nervousness, and fear of this process. I have to get the house looking nice and in the right energy to sell. All while Kyle makes multiple trips to off load all the dogs to his Dad’s house. Did I mention that 2 of our dogs are 140 lbs. and that the other 3 are around 60 lbs. ?! (2 of those 3 are 6 month old PUPPIES!) I feel like we run a zoo!

This house showing will be quite the feat for us. I expect both truck loads to look like something similar to the Beverly Hillbillies. I really should take pics. 

We looked at a property yesterday that meets our needs and desires. We are interested in making an offer on it. The buying part has me excited, nervous, and fearful too! There are just so many varibles that we can’t control.

As we were on our way to the property, I asked my spirit team (God, Universe, Angels, Spirits – who ever) to bless us with the feeling of “home” if this property was the one for us. Whoever was listening did just that! Both Kyle and I felt right at home as soon as we walked in the door. I could literally SEE us living there. 

On our way home, I was thinking about all the variables of buying and selling, the nervousness of timing and money, and moving. I thought to myself “Don’t panic, if it’s meant to be, it will be!” It’s really hard to remind myself of that, but I try my best to stay focused that it will all work out the way it should. Jesus has the wheel on this one. LoL.

Around supper time, Kyle decided to check the mail where he found a letter addressed to his mother (she lives in our basement) that she got approved for disability. This is fantastic news! It means she can start supporting herself with the Government’s assistance and she can now move into her own place!!! 

Having his mother live with us is a sore spot for me. Her and I have had a very rocky relationship and I want nothing more than for her to move on in her life so that Kyle and I can move on with ours. I will write more on this topic in and future blog post. 

Hours after receiving that good news, we got a message from our agent about the house viewing request tonight! 

I could not believe the series of events that occurred yesterday. There are some days that I feel so connected and in touch with the Universe. And yesterday was one of those days. 

Regardless of how the showing goes tonight, we are given an opportunity to sell this house and in turn buy a new one, together, where we can start our lives, together, alone, in a house that is new to both us. We get and clean slate, a new start. A home to call “ours”. 

Even though it’s still early in the process, I feel that each and every step we take in this house buying/selling process will be divinely guided. For only God knows our next step in life.

– A.M.

How Often Do You Think About Death?

​The article below is what inspired this blog post:

10 Lessons People Who Have Died & Come Back Can Teach Us About Life

To be totally honest with you, I didn’t read it. You can if you like, but seeing this headline show up in my newsfeed was all I needed to start the conversation.

Most people fear death. Naturally, we fear what we don’t know or understand. Some make every day choices built on their fear of death (or their fear of living – depending on how you look at it). What I’ve been learning is that choices made out of fear lead us further off of our path.

 
Since my NDE, I can confidently say, that without a doubt, I think of death every day of my life. Depending on the day, I may think of death as an escape, a way out of the constant pain my body is in. Or, I may think of death as a beautiful vacation destination. Mostly, I remember how beautiful it was to experience the white light, the weightlessness, the unconditional love, and the absence of the heavy and negative emotions we get weighed down with in life.
Sometimes, when I need to relax and calm myself down, or I simply need a break from this body, I find myself in a deep meditation focusing on all the beautiful memories I have. More often than not, the beauty I experienced in the white light of the operating room, is my main focus of the meditation. 

As I mentioned before, I struggle with depression. Being bipolar on top of all my other medical conditions just adds a different level of emotion and struggle to an already full plate of heavy themes. 

When I find myself in a depressive state, I usually wish for death. I plea my case to God, the Angels, the Universe, my loved ones in spirit, anyone I think to pray and plead to. 

I get even more depressed when I think about how I was given a second chance at life. I feel some sort of survivors guilt thinking about all the people in the world who have died and who would have given anything to have had a second chance at life. And here I am, mad at the world for being spared. I struggle with that. 

When I’m not being over run with depression and negative perspectives on life, I think of death in a similar way as I would thinking about anticipating a vacation. You catch yourself in moments daydreaming about being on the beach, feeling the warm sand under your feet, a warm gentle breeze blowing across your body, the hot sun as it hits your skin, hearing the waves crash off in the distance, the smell of the ocean, and that perfect moment when you take a deep breath of fresh air and you can feel the relaxation fill your lungs and then travel through your whole body on your exhale knowing that in this moment, there are no worries, no concerns, just a perfect moment of pure beauty and contentment. 

I can’t wait to go on that vacation. I have no plans made, and no idea if or when that trip will happen, but when it does I’ll be all packed and ready to go. 

The same goes with death. Whenever it’s my time, I will be packed and ready to go. Where warmth, comfort, relaxation, and pure beauty and love is my landscape. Where I can finally escape the heaviness of this world, and just be. 

Until then, I will continue to live my life, the ups and downs and everything in between. I will do my best to honor the second chance that I was given, and do my best to help others along the way. 

So I ask you, how often do you think about death? How do you feel about it? And do you feel divinely guided in your life?

There is no doubt in my mind that we are as divinely guided into death, as we are being guided to stay alive. 

– A.M.

Teaspiration

I believe that the Universe is always in constant communication with us. We are always being guided, and given signs. I have been wide awake and paying attention ever since my NDE. Before that, I didn’t even believe in God (the bible version). I felt there was a higher power of some sort but really didn’t believe in much.

After having my “white light” moment, there is no denying that there definitely is an afterlife. Even more so, I realized that we are so connected to the other side of life, that most people don’t even realize they are constantly being guided. Anything from seeing the same numbers, or witnessing wildlife, hearing the same thing 3 times from different people – all these things are signs. 

Since leaving my life of solitude behind, I have had a lot of adjustments to make. I went from a lifestyle that was very calm and peaceful (yoga, music, art, dancing) to a life where I don’t have time to do any of those things anymore. 

I see now how important my daily practice was to me. It was what helped me to stay grounded. Grounded is about the only thing that I haven’t been since moving across the country – lol. 

I have been thrown into a life that I basically just had to learn to adapt too. There is no structure or routine here, no time for peace, it’s never quiet, and between cleaning the house and taking care of all the dogs I’m not left with any energy (or time) to do anything that I use to do in my daily practice. 

Over the last couple of months, I have felt more settled both in my relationship and in my lifestyle. I have been trying very hard to start incorporating the activities of my daily practice into this new life of mine. It’s been challenging to try to do that. I have been slowly trying to incorporate these activities into my lifestyle, and sadly, am still struggling to do so. 

I love my alone time. I don’t get it very often, because Kyle and I try to do most things together. Where we are both disabled and unable to work, we spend all day and all night together.  As much as I love him and his company, I miss being alone so badly. 

On the rare occasions that he leaves the house without me, I celebrate! I use my alone time to clean, sing and dance in the kitchen, I make calls to my friends and family, might do yoga or something artsy, and sometimes, when the vibe is right, I’ll sit in complete silence and drink a cup of tea. 

The other day Kyle had to go out without me. I was in a weird mood because I had jumped out of a moving vehicle the night before (lol) and of course had a 4 hour panic attack because of the ordeal. The day after an attack, I’m very “blah”. I’m physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually exhausted. Being of such low energy, the only thing I felt like doing during my alone time was to sing. 

I have always been a closet singer; meaning I don’t like to sing infront of people. I am actually a pretty good singer but I don’t like having an audience. 

My voice changed a bit after having damaged my vocal chords in surgery (them trying to intubated me) and I stopped singing for a while because of it. 

Over the years I have exercised my voice back to a spot where I don’t feel absolutely devastated to sing and hear the difference. 

As soon as Kyle left, I locked myself in the bathroom (has super good acoustics) and started to sing. It wasn’t very long into my session before I broke down and cried. The feeling of releasing the energy I had inside me through singing was so powerful it brought tears to my eyes. 

I realized that singing is a way to connect my soul to this body. When I sing, it comes from a place that only my soul would know the way to. 

I sang my little heart out during my alone time. I sang until my throat started hurting and I couldn’t sing anymore. It felt amazing. I kept thinking “I really have to sing more to stay connected and grounded.” 

I went ahead and made myself a tea. I have been buying this really delicious tea lately, that comes with all of these really cool sayings on the tea tab. As I plopped my tea bag in my cup to steep, I noticed the message:

And there is my sign! The Universe needed to validate for me that my singing session is as important as I felt it was to my overall health and happiness! I got the message loud and clear! 

We are always being Divinely Guided. Are you paying attention?!

-A.M. 

Tuck & Roll

I jumped out of a moving truck last night. I wish I could say it was for a good reason or because I’m into stunts, but the truth is, I did it as a pure reaction to PTSD. 

I’m an escape artist; meaning I’m always looking for a way out. A way out of situations, grocery stores, responsibility, confrontations, and most importantly emotions. I feel too deeply to live in this world. 

Since having my NDE, I have basically rid myself of responsibility of most things, and I put myself in isolation. I created a safe little haven inside my home allowing very few people to enter my space. I kept every one, and every thing, at a distance. I figured as long as I controlled my environment, I could control my emotions, and in turn, control myself. 

I ended up with PTSD after a relationship went terribly wrong. The aftermath of that relationship has stayed with me. Even through all the self-work and work in therapy, I wasn’t able to shed certain reactions I’d have to certain situations. I was now more nervous, I tried to avoid confortation, and tried my damnedest to stay calm and emotionally stable. 

I spent the 6 years following my NDE, alone. Last year, I got in my first relationship since the horrible one. I felt good about it because I was different. I was making different choices in life and in men. I was cautious, but sure that this guy was different. And for the most part, he is. 

Most of mine and Kyle’s arguments start out as a miscommunication and fire up from there quickly. We are both ones to go for the jugular (verbally). Over the last year and a half of our relationship, we’ve both tried our hardest to minimize those kinds of explosions.

Kyle and I have been tired and exhausted from trying to get our house prepped for sale. We successfully reached the finish line yesterday. With such a physical demand on us, the pain increased; the irritablility increased, all while tolerance plummeted to the depths of hell. 

Last night, a series of events were building inside Kyle. I knew something was wrong earlier, but of course he assured me that everything was fine. Long story short, everything was not fine. As we were getting into the truck to leave to go to his father’s house for supper, he decided to let the lava flow. 

He freaks out fast and doesn’t even realize it. He’s a yeller (the kind that yells “I’m not yelling!”and, “Everything is fine!”). I’ve told him many times over the course of our relationship that yelling triggers me into a panic attack. I can’t help it. I try to stay as calm as possible but even if I’m not the one being yelled at, the yelling triggers me. 

He knows of my past experiences, but yet he can’t help himself from yelling. He stays calm (almost emotionless) on a daily basis, and I think it all just builds up and spills out (usually on me and not on the people that caused his emotion in the first place). 

For some reason, we feel like we can do this to the people we love and who love us the most. There’s  a sense  of security there, that you can be your ugliest self and that whoever is witness to that will forgive you and love you anyways. It doesn’t make it right, but it’s understandable.

So our argument elevated quickly. I was trying to stay calm and get him to the turn around to go back home while we calmed down. We hadn’t even made it out of the subdivision. 

He pulled infront of the house and put it in park. I continued to try and get him to calm down (even though “HE WASN’T YELLING!!!”Hahaha) while trying to stay calm myself. As he’s yelling, (and not even directed at me, but in frustration of a bunch of things) I’m starting to shake and vibrate. I start getting warm and dizzy. That’s when the escape artist in me comes out to play. I have to get out of whatever situation I’m in causing me to flip out before I black out and lose control. 

He continues yelling and venting. All of a sudden puts the truck in drive and pulls away after I asked him to stay stopped. He made the corner and I’m still asking for him to stop. He accelerates.  I grabbed for the door, he locks it,  I’m unlocking it; back and forth, back and forth. 

Finally, the door opens and I’m calm as can be repeating myself for him to stop the truck. Now he’s yelling louder at me; scared of me opening the door. He’s still not slowing down to stop. I edge myself out on my seat, grasping the dash and door. I put my foot down to the road. 

We’re literally going less than 10kms per hour. Really, it wasn’t even fast, but Kyle being his dramatic Kyle self describes it as “jumping out of a moving vehicle” like we were on a highway or something; lol. No, we were barely moving. 

Now he’s taking me seriously and he stops the truck. I get out and walk the half a block home, and meet him back at the house. Kyle calmed down enough to realize that he got out of hand with the yelling and he apologized. 

He thinks I’m crazy for “jumping out of a moving vehicle”. To me, it wasn’t crazy at all. That’s my survival skills at their finest right there! 

Most people can only speculate what they would do if they were trapped in a moving vehicle and in danger. I know what I would do, and not from speculation, but from experience. 

I have been locked in a vehicle, trapped, and very much in danger with my ex. After a struggle and his attempt to make me do what he wanted me to do, I had no choice but to open the door and tuck and roll. That was from a moving vehicle, much faster than Kyle’s truck was going last night. 

I was put in a situation where I had to survive, and I tucked and rolled. I would do it again if I had to. Did I REALLY have to “survive” last night with Kyle?! No; definitely not. There was no danger there. My mind knew that, but my body didn’t. Anything that reminds me of my struggles with my ex will trigger me in a way that I flip into survival mode and need get out of the situation asap. 

I cried for hours. Mostly because the situation triggered me into a full fledged panic attack. Kyle knows this happens, and of course feels badly to trigger it, but feels even worse that I put him in the same category with my ex (which I don’t). Kyle would never hurt me or treat me the way my ex did, but he figures if I get triggered by him then I must fear him like I feared my ex that created this PTSD.  I understand his logic but I can’t agree. 

I’d never lump Kyle into the same category as my ex. Kyle just loses his temper and everything comes out in the form of yelling. Even if it’s not being directed towards me, I can’t handle it. It causes the same reaction as if he were, and I just have to get away asap. It sucks. I yell when I get mad but when somebody else does it freaks me out. 

Even though parts of me are mad at him for triggering me (and not stopping the f@cking truck when I asked him to – lol), there’s another part of me that feels bad for not allowing him the same freedom of expression that I get. 

We still have a lot of issues to work on; both on ourselves, and in our relationship. We are worth the work and effort though. I believe that, because somehow, the Universe gave us a second chance, brought us together, and blessed us with a love that most people would give anything to have. 

To find someone who loves you enough to help you unpack your emotional baggage, is a blessing. I recognize the blessing. I beleive my children had a hand in guiding me to him. That’s why I know that this relationship is worth it, because it was divinely guided.

-A.M.