Triggers of the Storm
Last week, Hurricane Florence hit about 100 miles away from where I live. As I watched endless hours of weather updates, the storm wasn’t really the prominent thing on my mind. Instead, the triggers of the storm took me back to being under the crawl space in our Kansas house while a hurricane warning was imminent.
Of all the things in my past I can’t remember (due to my PTSD), I vividly remember being in the cramped, low ceiling crawl space. My abuser, 2-year old son, and I had to crawl on our knees in order to gain access to the dark, musty smelling cement floored space tucked under the main floor of the house. The overhead beams hung low, while one hanging bulb provided for significant lighting underneath. Away from the light bulb the area was weird shaped shadows reflecting off the boxes stored against the walls.
The Storm Within
My abuser yelled at my son and I the entire 30 minutes we were held up in the “shelter”. The yelling at us seemed totally irrelevant to the situation going on outside – my abuser was inconvenienced, hungry, anxious for a cigarette, and a whole host of other complaints. All his vocal and tense body movements did was stress out the entire situation even more than the possibility of a tornado. His irate comments never reflected on our safety. Nope, just his negative opinion of the situation.
I remember my heightened anxiety; internally screaming that this weather inconvenience wasn’t my fault; and remembering how much I hated being in such close proximity of my abuser without a way to escape.
But, more concerning to me now is my other thoughts like:
I Now Realize
It’s been 20 years since that hurricane warning. I now realize that storms are going to show up in all areas of my life…. Whether it was weather related, job related, my daughter’s cancer, or the normal occurrences of living in this world.
It is not my responsibility to prepare 110% for all aspects of my abuser’s potential inconveniences.
The abuse is not your fault.
Hi, I'm Sue
Welcome to my blog! I served twenty-one honorable years on active duty, living a double life of capability and accomplishment in the service while enduring brutality and abusiveness in my twenty-one year oppressive marriage. Today I'm happily married and have three children who are my inspiration and motivation.
My goal is to help combat the lies of abusers with the truth of God. I hope you find my words to be healing and helpful through your own life experiences.
Being separated from my abusive husband didn't make me a domestic violence survivor. It surely didn't release me from the grip of his brainwashing control and the innate power he had on me.
Read the full raw story in my new book, Rock Bottom and Faithless.