LOADED GUN

Every day we will face triggers, reminders of trauma from the past, that try to take us to our weakest points. Times when we are entirely ready for them, other times they will shatter us so profoundly we may never be whole.

This day, the day that my world changed in a blink of an eye. June 3rd, the day I can feel in every shattered piece around me. A day I am unable to forget, a day that triggers the worst and the dream I talk about the one I can not escape. A day that holds so much trauma, the secret that’s keeping me sick. I begged and pleaded with him to find another way when his cold words, dark eyes that are etched into my heart forever.

 I can’t feel this way anymore, I can only assume the guilt of his lying, I will never know as the words he uttered let me leave and tell the kids, or I am going, and none of you will ever seem me again. What kind of options are these neither I would willingly choose without a fight? To this day, I wish I would have chosen differently.  Because of the trauma that would unfold when I told him you win after this incident, I will regret for everyone involved in this ugly situation. 

I looked at him pleading tears in my eyes and said if you do this, you might as well put a bullet in me because that’s what it’s going to feel like anyway. I didn’t understand, I couldn’t see the truth from the lies, I thought he was broken and going to kill himself like he had threatened many times the last month. The secret that’s was keeping me sick the truth I hadn’t admitted to many, the secret I was keeping that my therapist was trying to reach with the EMDR was this. The secret that left me in pieces in her office and I believed shocked her. She said I am not sure I know how to help you as I am not qualified for this kind of trauma.

The secret that came spilling out of me while everything inside me was protesting it stay put, I had fought for healing and this day this wasn’t it.

 The truth I fought so hard to keep inside, and it had just broken me in that office. 

Do you know what it’s like to have a loaded gun held to your head?

What it feels like for the one person you thought would always protect you did the unthinkable? 

 It feels like slow motion I watched as he picked that gun, his duty weapon. I heard the sound of the metal clip, I turned around as I couldn’t look into his eyes as he raised it, I could feel it near my head, my heart was pounding, then came the words “now what tough girl.”

Shaking the words that flowed out of my mouth next were... “pull the trigger.”

That’s what my heart wanted at that moment, and a sense of calm surrounded me. Waiting! 

I heard the metal clip again, and I watched as he tossed the gun back into the box and walked away from me.

I was scared of him in that moment, but my heart also ached, I thought he was broken, and I wanted to understand why he would actually do that to me his wife, the mother of his children was he trying to hurt me or scare me either way it worked. 

I am now terrified of that man. Terrified of what he is capable of. The nightmares associated with this moment In life haunt me. I can’t get it out of my head or the cells of my body.  This week they have kept me awake; that nightmare I dread has returned. Sleep I fear as I know I will live this in my dream, but unlike reality, in my dreams, he always pulls the trigger, and I am jerked awake in the dark in a full-blown panic attack. Sweating and wiling my lungs to breathe and the tears. Is this really my life? 

The truth of the secret told in EMDR is the shame of the many nights I wished, he had done just that pulled that trigger and spared me having live any of this trauma he created.

Learning all the truths of life, I knew nothing about it. I wished on this day, and so many occasions, he could have had the guts to end it that day with the squeezing of that trigger.  I want to not feel the fear in every fiber of me when I see his face or have to be near him. The sound of a gun that creates bile to rise in my throat and the sound of that cocking loading the bullet in the chamber,  gunmetal sending a chill down my spine. It’s what I see when I have to see him that face that gun and I tailspin, emotional turmoil for days.  My soul is connected to him, and I can feel the instant he is near me, my hair stands up. I sit up a little straighter, and I exam my surrounding a little more. I sit in a car longer or walk faster to avoid this trigger. Trauma Bonding.

This moment In time has left me hating myself for wanting what he didn’t do that day, and I can’t bear to be near him as I can see a version of the man I loved, but the light is gone. The man before me isn’t the same, and I am mad that he didn’t pull the trigger. The secret that keeps me sick is I wish he would have pulled that trigger. 

Do you know what it’s like to have the person you love do this and then walk away and try to deny to you it happened? Try to convince you that he left because you got physical with him, which yes I sat on top of him, placed his head in my hands, shook his face, and said. “Why can’t you see what’s right in front of your face” a moment he asked me to get off, and the fear of him shooting himself stopped me from complying, and I was left with bruises on my arms as he removed me. 

I was angry with the man who didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger, and if I tried to talk about it after he left, he would say the words to me. “I don’t know what you are talking about like I was just crazy and imagined it or made it all up. As if it wasn’t real.  

If you can relate to this for any reason and I honestly hope that you can’t and never will. I’m so sorry. No one should know the pain of betrayal. It shatters you to your core. The pain is indescribable. You may never be the same. Life changes all of us in many ways – good and evil. I’m different now. More guarded, less trusting, and I cry all the flipping time, which annoys me to no end. I am trying hard even on this day with this trigger, trying to not let fear creep back in, a daily battle that I mostly lose. 

I was given this gift of writing to help me heal from the abuse, infidelity, that D-word I won’t use. 
I found this poem and loved it. 

Secrets
Incapacitate me.
I question
My identity.
Reoccurring dream
Paralyzes me.
Covers pulled off
Anonymously.
Goosebumps.
What could that be?
Shame.
Denigrates me.
Shh….It’s a secret.
Threats.
Gag my liberty.
Years.
Spent in therapy.
Truth.
Parades for all to see.
No longer
Is it a secret

author unknown

Don’t let your secrets keep you stuck, I mean who am I to talk as I still try and stuff this secret down, wishing this wasn’t my life, hoping for the life back the happy me, she is gone I have yet to find her I am hopeful as I stay close to the lord he will help me find her or at least help me live.