Now What?

In recovering from surgery, I was blindsided by something I never expected. My surgery went as expected without any complications. I was actually very surprised at how well everything went and how little pain I felt. No, it wasn't pain that caused me to wake up in a panic a few times throughout that night in the hospital. I was having flashbacks. Every nauseating second of what seemed so real shook me physically and mentally. I had already been having similar nightmares since my ER trip.

Almost 5 years ago, an aggressive custody battle over my sons began. My ex-husband tried every trick in the book to gain custody. He regularly called children's services in two states over the course of the battle. They consistently found nothing, but it began to wear on me. Being called out of class to do random drug tests really didn't help either. My boys wanted to live with their dad. I couldn't tell them all the reasons why I knew without a doubt that this was not a good idea at all. My boys began to resent me and my husband. They became angry. Counseling was not cutting it. They were adamant they wanted to live with their dad. So, here I had two children old enough to tell the court their wishes, constant visits from the state, and some court appearances regarding various complaints and/or grievances from my ex (child support adjustments and other demands). I did the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I let my boys go live with their dad. It crushed me. I literally felt my heart break. Why would I do such a crazy thing? Why would a mother still living and breathing let her children go? Ever read The Wisdom of Solomon? My faith in God was the only thing that kept me going. This whole mess took place while I was finishing up in nursing school by the way. How I did not need matresses for wallpaper, I don't know. This was also the same timeframe that the nightmares first started.

Towards the end of the marriage, he would not take no for an answer. The last 6 months of 1999 were complete Hell on earth. Because I relented, I didn't think it was rape. Because I gave in out of desperation, I didn't think it was rape. Because there were occasions during that time where it was consensual, I was very confused and doubted what I knew was really going on. He would repeatedly poke me in the back right between my shoulder blades with his index finger saying, "I'm not letting you go to sleep until you give me some." Other times he would grope me. I would push his hands away and tell him to stop. He didn't listen or care. He kept on. After he was served with divorce papers on my birthday in 2000, he called to arrange visitation with the boys. During the conversation, one of his comments were,"You know I never raped you." What do you say to something like that? I quickly changed the subject. In hindsight, why would he feel the need to make such a comment unless he knew exactly what he was doing?

Now, back to the days leading up to letting my boys go in 2008. The stress of everything came out in my dreams. Nightmares of those last 6 months repeated themselves on a regular basis. I finally went to a women's place that offered crisis counseling. I met with a counselor and asked her if what had happened was rape or not. I already knew the answer and felt quite stupid for even asking, but was alone in my deduction until that day. She said, "Yes, that is absolutely rape." I broke down into a pile of emotion. I sobbed as she sat right next to me holding my hand. I couldn't speak, only sob. Her silence was comforting and strong. She knew exactly what to do, which was just be there. After some time in her office, I gathered myself enough to talk a little more. I never went back. All I needed was validation and confirmation. I could handle the rest, and I did for a few years...until August 11th.

As I mentioned, the flashbacks after surgery were a total shock, but considering the previous trauma mixed with the location and type of surgery I had, I am not at all surprised at the ensueing events. I felt amazing right after my surgery. Almost zero anxiety. The twinges were almost nonexistent by then. It all changed overnight. I'm right back where I started, but I know it will be ok. It's a minor setback. I know I need help. I'm not a fool. Kind of like that saying, "A lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client." Similarly, "A nurse who manages her own mental health has a fool for a patient." Yeah, I just made that up. Now, the search begins. I know Prolonged Exposure Therapy is what I need. I know what to expect. I just need to find someone especially great at what they do because I'm picky like that.

As a side note, my boys still live with their dad. We are closer now than we ever would've been had they stayed with me. They love my husband and call him "Dad". By the time they realized "what a tool" their dad really was (their words not mine), they had already forged tight friendships and wanted to finish high school there. They asked me, "Mom, why didn't you tell us what a jerk dad was?" I responded with that not being something a parent should do. I had hoped that the relationship with his sons would be healthy. All the boys learned was the classic story of what it's like to be a pawn in a game. It's sad. It's not what I would ever wish for anyone, even out of spite. My boys even appologized for wanting to live with their dad. When they come here for summer and school breaks, they see things differently. With a swelling heart full of pride, I told them, "Well, that's just one appology I can't accept." I never had to make one disparaging remark about the situation. They got it, all by themselves.