New Old Trigger

I figured out another trigger tonight. Ironically it’s one that my therapist had already told me was one of mine, but hey, when have I ever been known to listen.

I freak the fuck out when someone does something unexpectedly that effects me, and I have no control over it. Makes sense after rape. But the more I thought about it the more I realized that it’s only from people I trust or care about. Which makes it even more interesting… I didn’t care about my rapist but I suppose I trusted him. But one or the other (unexpected or out of my control) doesn’t bother me. Together though, they’re one hell of a pair.

The first time I can remember being triggered by this (discounting getting news about the divorce- who fucking knows what to label that one) Is one night when I told a friend about the rape. I told him and I was crying (he was one of the first people I told) and all of a sudden he got a call and had to go. At like 2 in the morning. As I’m crying. Nothing I said got him to stay, and finally I was so hurt and pissed I told him to leave (his own house- mind you, but whatever). He said he’d text me the whole time though. I lost my shit. If I’ve ever had an anxiety attack, nervous breakdown, gone fucking psycho for real- that was it. Turns out he was helping another friend at the time. Also, he hit on a very fresh, very raw trigger. I didn’t understand, and I straight up hated him for a while because of it. And I don’t hate. Ever.

Hell, the more I think about it, maybe that had something to do with the whole bar incident a few months ago.

Lately I’ve been having the dumbest arguments with my boyfriend, too. Like, the DUMBEST. Like over cooking a damn waffle. Seriously, I was cooking breakfast and going to put the waffle in the microwave and he put it in a pan to put in the oven. Can we please take a second to recognize how incredibly insignificant that is???? Well I, of course, said something about why don’t you just cook the whole damn meal and the argument (literally five hours later) concluded with me saying I felt stupid when he just jumped in and did things like that as if I couldn’t do it myself, and I need him to ask if he can help me before just doing it. God, I sound controlling. In turn, he said I’m always negative and he was just trying to help. My god. I’m so sorry. This really is the dumbest argument in the history of the universe. 

In hindsight, while I look like an ignoramus (shout out to Cracker Barrel for teaching me that word) it makes sense. I felt threatened that he was unexpectedly doing something and I couldn’t get him to stop, even after arguing with him about it. I even asked to be warned, to take the unexpected out of it. But fight or flight kicked in… Although flight hasn’t been an option of choice since I got mad that I didn’t fight my rapist off. Come to think about it, I should probably learn to balance that whole fight or flight thing out more.

And then tonight, after my first day at my new job, I thought we would be hanging out and I’d be getting questioned to the Nth degree about my day to the point of wanting to lock my boyfriend in an attic somewhere and we’d have dinner and hang out… But on my way home from work I found out he was hanging out with a friend and drinking. Now, I’m all for him hanging out and seeing his friends- he should probably do it more, honestly. But the sudden change from what I expected and it turning into we aren’t even going to see each other for more than 5 minutes and there’s nothing I can really do about it pissed me off. And then of course more shit piled onto it like feeling lonely and depressed… I had a stressful day and then this and I was a mess. And again he didn’t understand why I was making a big deal out of nothing. Like, that really is not a big deal!!! Regardless of it being nothing, we argued for a good hour or two and it wasn’t until after the tears and anger and all but hanging up on him a few times that I calmed down and we talked like adults. And then it wasn’t even until AFTER we hung up that it hit me- that was a trigger.

Being psycho and knowing it but not realizing why all of the time really blows.

A girl walked into a bar…

I parked and scanned the area for men.

Three that I’d have to walk through to get inside.

I’m uncomfortable but not ready to fight.

 

I walk in, scan the room.

My boyfriend isn’t there.

I am alone.

I sit down to make the call- “Where are you?”

No answer.

I call his friend… Who is at home asleep.

Meanwhile my throat gets tighter and tighter. 

He calls back as I leave.

 

I am angry. I’m ready to fight. 

And all they did was look at me as I walked in and out.

 

This is an exact event that happened tonight. It triggered me. I was scared and angry and hurt for being left alone. It was a miscommunication. But that one event sent me home crying and googling how to cope with PTSD triggers. My boyfriend still doesn’t completely understand, I don’t think. He was all like, “But you did it and you’re fine! That should be a good thing! I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.” I know it was a complete miscommunication and accident, but unexpected exposure when alone and outnumbered is borderline cruel. 

 

An Adoption Story

It’s my first day back to my normal life since my mini vacation this weekend. SO MUCH happened, and I’ll admit, I was a stressed out mess a couple of times. Does that still count as a vacation? Anyway, I am super worn out, and I see candy crush every time I close my eyes. It’s ridiculous.

Back to this weekend, though. With two interviews, an evaluation, getting approved for an apartment, trying to take a tour of my soon to be school (and failing), a wonderful date night, and showing my boyfriend where I grew up, there wasn’t a whole lot of time for sleeping. BUT I’m starting to feel less stressed (and depressed) about the move. Huzzah! What am I, a nerd?

Dressed up for date night! My mind was blown when the theater seats reclined!

My soon to be roommate got to see what it is like living with Ryker. A pair of gym shorts and two bags all ripped and three days later, I think it’s going to be a beautiful match. Actually, I just think he’s still not ready to be left out of the crate yet. Same difference.

One pooped pup on a four hour drive.

Okay, why I’m really posting today is because over the weekend this blog has gotten super popular, which I’m really touched and happy about. It’s basically all because Morgan of Temporary Home, Permanent Love made a post about Ryker and I, and how she and I met. I am super thankful to this girl, not just for the post, but also for all of her help and support with Ryker. I also wanted to share my side of the story and how we met. It’s a pretty magical and fantabulous neat story.

The time was December in the year of two thousand, twelve. The place was Tallanasty Tallahassee, Florida.

*Insert harps playing in the background here*

I had just found this dog. Okay, let’s back up a little more. I had been looking for the dog of my dreams for about a month, and already depressed from the rape, was wanting (but not ready) to give up. One Saturday, I drove an hour and a half to a shelter to see a dog, loved him, and just as I started talking paperwork the owner called to claim him. Hello heartbreak, fuck you, go away. The next day, my mom kept telling me to go to Wakulla County Animal Control/ Cauzican Rescue, and I pretty much figured it was a ploy to get my mopey self out to see her. She sent me the link to Ryker and I didn’t even open it. But, after telling me to come by about four or five times, I finally caved.

CHAT is another animal rescue next door to WCAC, and Lily is my mom’s dachshund.

Ryker (then Frankie) was out in a yard with another dog, running around and playing. We went in to look at him once and I wasn’t sold, so I walked around the kennels, wasn’t feeling it, and went back to the yard because my mom was playing with the other dog in there. I tried playing with him, and after maybe ten minutes I was in love. He just has so much personality! Maybe 20 minutes after that, I was sitting in the middle of the yard boo-hooing because I was relieved and sad and happy and kind of like WTF all at the same time. PTSD/Depression mood swings, anyone? I signed the adoption papers that day, and even came back the next week (I was waiting for adoption approval and trying to finalize a pet friendly apartment so that I could take him home) to let Ryker meet his new friends, Bella and Leo, who I knew he’d be spending a lot of time with.

(L to R) Bella, Ryker, and Leo

I had fallen in love with an awesome apartment across from FSU, and was really excited to call the landlord and double check that I was good to go living there with Ryker. She said no. Neither Dalmatians nor American Bulldogs were allowed. Pissed off but in a bit of an adrenaline rush from being so ready to start my new, much better life with my new “man”, I started calling people to see where I should live. My friend, Karen, mentioned a place that would take American Bulldogs right by FSU, and I called them immediately. The girl was very nice and told me that they had studio apartments as their cheapest apartments, and that they allow American Bulldogs. I left work early to see it that day.

The girl was Morgan. She showed me the apartment and I gushed about Ryker, and she eventually asked where I was getting him from. I told her Wakulla, and she said something along the lines of ,”I just saw your application to adopt him!” She was a volunteer for them and just so happened to be my leasing agent? Woah. At the end of the tour, I told her my story and signed the lease. I was able to move in with him within weeks. Totally meant to be.

The day I met Ryker

Since then, Morgan has been there for Ryker and I many times, from pack walks to telling me which dog brushes are best, to walking him when I got my wisdom teeth out. Without people like her, without shelter volunteers, without animal lovers, I would be more of a mental case right now. I’m eternally grateful for all of the help that I got with getting Ryker, and after losing my faith in the universe, God, whatever (jury’s still out on that one), I at least found respect for some of humanity and the way that things happen. That was an amazing lesson.

My Rapist has me in his Profile Pic

Well, it usually takes me getting pissed off to do something I know I need to do deep down, so here it is: My own blog. I can’t believe that fucker actually had the gall to do it. It’s not like I went and looked for him, either. I forgot I took the picture and Facebook actually notified me that he made my picture his profile picture. Granted, I’m not in the thumbnail, but the picture was on MY page and I am in it. It’s fucked up.

Like, dude. I could have your ass on a platter if you try me.

The sad thing is though, I don’t think I could. Not only would it mean rehashing everything and doubting myself and my self worth all over again publicly, but also being the one person that potentially ruined another person’s life. Oh, like he did to me? I have absolutely no faith in our judicial system. None. And when I finally got up the balls to go and document the rape, (apparently reporting means that you want to press charges) the cop (also female) asked me why I was letting guys I didn’t intend to sleep with spend the night. EXFUCKINGSCUSE ME? FUCK our legal system. You know what, I was wearing short shorts, a thong, and a cami. I was probably asking for it anyway. In my own house? Yeah, totally.

I’m about in tears writing this. Part of me thinks I shouldn’t let myself get this worked up over it or someone that messed me up so badly, and the other part’s just pissed. Then another part of me altogether is telling me to look at all the good that has come from it and what I’ve learned, etc… I hate that part of me. It tries to make everything okay when it’s not and not deal with the pain. But damn it, I HURT. Even after the continuing therapy, and even with the new found boundaries and respect for myself for being strong enough to even live with all of the shit I have been for the past few months, it still hurts. I’m looking forward to the day when it doesn’t anymore. IF that’s even something that happens.