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0 By Kirsty
So I had the glaringly stark and really quite horrific realisation this morning that approximately 80%* of my most major traumas, heartaches, headaches, devastations, stresses, upsets and tears – the sort that really take a huge toll on the physical, psychological and spiritual self – during the entirety of my adult life (and then some, really, if I think about it) have been down to the actions and behaviours of men. Or, more specifically, romantic relations rather than the entire gender as a whole. I find this obscene, alarming and incredibly upsetting.
I feel disgusted with myself. I’m thirty-fucking-two for Christ’s sake! This shit was excusable in my teens and early twenties but at thirty-two it’s just fucking sad, quite frankly. Though naturally, if anybody else in the world had said this to me I’d be sincerely adamant that it wasn’t at all sad. But that’s other people, you see, and therefore not only acceptable but entirely understandable. *sigh* Not being great at this ‘be kind to yourself’ thing atm.
A decade of complex trauma
S, of course, is the main culprit in this, as any of my readers whose been paying attention could have guessed by now. It was, of course, his actions, behaviours and treatments of me that set off my depression ten years ago. That’s a decade of complex trauma and depression. A decade of that, because of a man (/romantic partner).
When I think about what all the so very many literal hours of crying might add up to – how much of my life I’ve spent crying over him, alone – I grow cold. And sick. Appalling, isn’t it? Oh don’t get me wrong, it’s not so clear-cut as all that. There’s been much that has been wonderful in our relationship and there is much that is mind-blowingly wonderful about him, but somehow the fireworks and soaring highs stopped compensating for the crushing, brutal lows some time ago.
Those kinds of spikes and drops are not healthy, you see. In fact, they’re actively toxic, creating a chemical response in the brain which keeps you hooked as if on a drug. This is what’s known as a trauma bond. No relationship is a perfect flatline; however, more gentle sloping peaks and dips is a much healthier set-up.
I honestly do not know what the future holds
Currently, I honestly do not know what the future holds for S and I. But I can tell you, for all my romantic ideals and aspirations (fucking romanticism ruined me big time from an early age), I have never in my life been more off being involved with somebody, terrifying as the thought of being alone might be. I mean ANYBODY AT ALL. This isn’t just about S.
Patterns repeat themselves in each and every one of us, but certainly in my romantic history. Inconsistency, manipulation, empathy traps, sometimes vague and cagey and sometimes outright lies, but most definitely deceit in a variety of manifestations and a distinct inability to just be fucking straight with me, selfishness…
And yes, yes, YES, I know, we all exhibit those traits every now and again. We wouldn’t be human otherwise. But they occur more in some than in others and, as ever, it’s the degree to which they are done and the way in which they are used that determine how chronically problematic and damaging they are.
Loops and hooks
In addition to my realisation about the 80%*, I’ve been reflecting much on the patterns that have repeatedly played out in my relationships. I concluded, ‘Loops and Hooks’, which is our counsellor’s term. There’s something about my particular set of personal quirks and vulnerabilities that act as ‘hooks’ for the above ‘loops’ – the traits that keep finding their way to me. Or perhaps it’s my quirks and vulnerabilities that act as the loops to the hooks of those traits. Same difference, either way.
And – Yes – of course I’m complicit. I never denied that. We’re all complicit in the forging of our own chains.
Do you know what is truly depressing, Reader? It means – or at least strongly suggests – that anybody who I am ever going to attract (regardless of whether I’m actually seeking) is going to have those traits, from a wide variety of angles and twists, in one manifestation or another.
I am tired
Reader, I am TIRED. Whilst, in regards to my depression, let me reassure you, I continue to make strong progress in my recovery, I am so terribly drained and tired of all this. I am grey, currently, and I am so fucking tired of the heartache and drama and upset and stress and turmoil. I’m so terribly tired of being squished through the bastarding emotional wringer. I’m tired of spikes and drops and inconsistencies. Tired of hot and cold. I’m tired of deceit. I’m tired of being played and being strung out and of being duped. Tired of crying, tired of tears. I’m tired of the time and energy wasted tearing myself apart over these things. I’m tired of my emotions being fucked over backwards.
Furthermore, I am fucking DONE!!
I am DONE with the heartache and drama and upset and stress. DONE with the fucking turmoil. I am DONE with inconsistencies, DONE with hot and cold, and I am so so so fucking DONE with deceit. I am DONE with being played and manipulated and I am DONE with being duped.
An entire fucking decade
At 32, approx 80%* of my greatest traumas, heartaches, headaches, devastations, stresses, upset and tears has been in response to my romantic partners’/interests’ treatment of me.
An entire fucking decade of complex trauma and depression. That is not ok.
And although I do not normally go in for resolutions, in the spirit of the New Year I will resolve this one thing…
1in4 UK Book Store:
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Regardless to what the future may hold, I will not permit this to carry on any longer.
Much Love
Kirsty
*80% is not an accurate statistic, obviously. I haven’t sat down with a bloody calculator and actually worked it out. It is, of course, just a figure used to convey the concept of the vast majority.
Reproduced with permission, originally posted on www.muchlovekirsty.co.uk
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