Anxiety Wins Again: A Venting Post

I woke with a startle this morning and that should have been my sign to go back to bed and forget all about this day.  My anxiety has been through the roof since my appointment on Monday.  I've had flashbacks on a loop ever since the pelvic exam that day.  Normally, I would have scheduled that appointment for a time when I could take an anxiety tablet beforehand, but I was convinced to just to do it now.  It was my husband who convinced me to do it while we were there.  Of course, he didn't consider the effects that such an exam would have on me and blindly recommended it anyway.  I have a slight resentment with him about that now, but I'm working on processing it and moving on.  

My state of mind this morning was awful, and I tried to tell my husband that, but before I could, he had already started a fight with me.  I was already dealing with anxiety off the charts and my heart was racing, so I know my POTS was acting up, too.  My pain levels were also high, which added to my stress and anxiety.  I was rushing around trying to get ready for my therapy group, but all Michael could do was start more crap with me.  Everything I would say, he had something ugly to say in return.  He had no compassion for what I was going through, not even when I was sobbing to him about how awful everything felt at the moment.  He didn't even treat me like I was his friend, let alone his wife, partner and best friend.  I felt like I didn't matter to him at all.  A fight over money (of all things!) was more important than me having anxiety attacks and flashbacks.  Yet, he had the gall to tell me he loves me after saying all these things, but never an apology for breaking my heart - again!  I'm so hurt tonight.  I don't even know how to sit with the big emotions this has left me with.  

I have Bipolar Disorder and C-PTSD, so situations like this cause me to freak out and behave in a way that I normally would never allow myself to behave.  It's embarrassing that in my 40's I still can't regulate my emotions.  This is the main reason that my therapist, Lori, does not have me reprocessing my trauma yet.  It's not safe to do so until I can emotionally regulate myself.  Michael even yelled at me about that, too.  He actually screamed at me because Lori doesn't have me in the reprocessing phase yet.  He says I've been doing this for 6 months now and it's taking too long for him.  He expects me to be completely and fully healed already, even though we were both told that it could take two years or longer to get there, especially with the extensive trauma that I have.  I don't think that I deserve to be mistreated just because somebody else does not match their timeline to the timeline in Michael's head.  I don't know how to get it through to him that I need his support instead of his animosity.  I'm not going to end my healing journey just because it's taking too long for him.  He can leave if he doesn't want to wait to see what I become when trauma is not ruling my life.  I am going to have a beautiful life one day, I swear.  The only way to get there is to continue my healing journey, even if I do it just to spite the haters that say I shouldn't waste their time.  Lori knows I'm not wasting her time and that's really all that matters to me right now.

I did manage to get to group, despite all the obstacles in my way today.  I am so grateful that I went today.  I needed to be around people, especially people who get it.  Michael doesn't get it.  He doesn't even try to understand me anymore.  Perfect strangers give me more compassion and empathy than my husband who has witnessed the effects of my trauma, firsthand, for almost 20 years.  It's not like he's my new boyfriend.  Tomorrow, we celebrate 17 years of marriage, if we survive the night still standing.  

I don't want to end my marriage.  I want it to work out, forever.  That was my intention when I married Michael.  I hate wasted time more than anything and I have a lot of years invested into this marriage.  I am a dying woman.  I don't have time to waste trying to fix this or us or him.  I love this man to death, but I hate the way he treats me, speaks to me and makes me feel.  Nothing about this day felt like love to me, nor to him.  We must do better than this, but I cannot force him to get the therapy that he needs.  He has trauma from his childhood, too, although I won't go into that here.  That's not my story to tell.  The point is everyone in the world could benefit from therapy, including Michael.  If mentioning it can cause him to start yelling and screaming at me, he probably needs it more than most people do.  Just my observation.  

I have suffered with suicidal ideation and self-harm for most of my life and tonight, it's really pulling me toward the dark side.  I haven't self-harmed since August 2013 and I intend to keep it that way, but I need to be able to vent about it somewhere.  I don't have friends because of Michael, so I have no outlet other than therapy and writing, so here I am, screaming into the void with the desperate hope of some relief from the mental anguish that envelopes me.  I promised my friend at group that I would not do anything stupid, so I won't, but the desire is strong.  Fortunately, I am a warrior and far stronger than a relapse calling my name.  

Gods help me!