TMS - Day 2 - Intense Anger

Today was the first full day of treatment. All nearly 90 minutes of it.
It was just myself and the technician.  So much nicer not having an audiance glaring at every twitch and move I make.

So much nicer not having several people there.  As I said previously, so far every single person has been nothing but awesome.  My perception of the entire process isn't as awesome.

Which brings me to the next piece...

The tolerance to treatment was a little bit easier.  The unraveling was not any easier.  Actually, it was a tad bit more unraveling than than the first day.

Over the last few days I've been incredible angry.
Angry that this is where I'm at.
Angry that this is the alternative.
Angry.
Angry that damn it this is my fucking life.

And then the anger subsides for a short time.
And then a variety of other emotions come to the surface.
And then before I know it the barrage of emotions...come crashing down...and I find myself in a pile of tears sobbing.

Because damn it all...this is my life
Because damn it all...I hate this.
Because damn it all...I hate that THIS is basically the only option I have left.

Dear Asshole (Part 1)

**I tried to keep this short. For my own sanity. This is a FAIR WARNING there is very likely going to be several explicits. It is what it is. It is where my heart and head is with this.  This is just the beginning of a series of "Dear Asshole" posts.  More will come as I'm able to process.  Each time I've ever started to write something similar to this I've ended in a pretty rough space.  Never got past the first few sentences and ended up in fetal position on my bathroom floor/tub for heaven only knows how long afterwards.

As the title states: Dear Asshole.  He is just that. An asshole.  And so much more.  As mentioned above it is likely these will not be pretty.  

Dear Asshole,
You may have been excited to see this letter from me since we've not had contact in over 30 years.  What pictures and information you have from me you received from your mother.  Good for her for caring.
I didn't want to write this when I was overly angry, emotional, or depressed.  However, those 3 words seem to be part of my every day life. And have been for several months.

This last bought of severe depression was not triggered by the trauma piece you help create. It is very likely it was just part of much more going on.  Each time I get closer to rising above the fog this particular piece begins to boil over. Causing there to be a ripple effect into my everyday life. You destroyed me in more ways than not.

I spent years trying to figure out reasoning's for your actions.  I've spent countless hours talking to other victims. I've spent countless hours reading and trying to sift to the bottom of why abusers abuse.  The more information I have found, the worse I've felt abut the situation.  They say that abusers have the domino effect.  The abuser was once abused.  That's bullshit.  I'm nearly certain that never happened to you.  Next option?  You strive to dominate.  That is exactly what you did.  When you could no longer hurt my mother, you choose to hurt me.  Fuck you!  You rat bastard.

I hope you woke up each day of the last 33 yrs of your life and took a good look at your shit-filled self and were eaten alive by what you did to me.  I hope you never forgave yourself for it.  I always thought I would be thankful for the day you died.  Each day I got closer and closer.  And the day that I got the phone call was the day when the previous 33 yrs of attempting to stuff deep down came boiling over.  Each day, I prayed for closure that you would die.  Instead, rage took over deep w/in my heart.  Rage that you took the easy way out.  Rage that you didn't suffer.  Sure, I'm sure you suffered.  You have never suffered a moment of the torment that I live each day.  You don't wear the physical and emotional scars that I do.  Those scars that are not seen.  Only heard by the rage that has built within me.

I can only hope hell is as it is chalked up to be!!  There is no amount of repentance that would bring you closer to the pearly gates of heaven. None. I know first hand that in order to cross that gate you would have needed to make amends to those you hurt.

Screw you!
Your Daughter

Swearing

Swearing tends to be a cause for disagreement, frustration, arguement, all around pissed-off-ness among myself and my husband.

I don't swear.
My dh rarely swears.

The thing that frustrates me about my husband and my swearing is this:  He chooses the wrong freeking time to tell me to stop. 

The more depressed I am.  The more I swear.
The more suicidal I am.  The more every other word out of my mouth starts with F and ends with a K (or G).

Honestly, it happens even when I'm not depressed or suicidal. 

Telling me not to swear when it is all I can do to not drive my car into the median, walk out in front of a bus, or just plain don't want to live any longer is like adding salt to an already horrific wound. 

Conversation usually goes something like this:

Me:  F*cking idiot get out of the damn intersection.
DH: Watch what you say.
Me: You telling me to watch what I say?
DH:  Yes.  Just because some idiot doesn't know how to drive doesn't mean you have to call them an Effing Idiot (not he doesn't say the F word).
Me: Well they are.
DH: You still can choose other words.
Me: You telling me not to say F*
DH:  Yes.
Me:  Well F*ck you.
DH:  Stop! That's not called for.
Me:  F*ck you and the horse you rode in on. You don't like it get out of the car.
DH:  Really, you need to have this arguement w/me?
Me:  F*ck off. You should know after 18 yrs one of the worst things you can do it to tell me not to swear.  You know I will tell you to F*ck yourself in the process.  So shut the hell up or get out of the car.

And then...we sit in dead silence.
Not addressing the issue.
Not addressing it later when I'm in a better space to discuss it.
Not doing anything but pretending it didn't happen.

But it did.  And I know it is a source of contention.  And I know it pisses him off.  Just like I know that the damn baseball hanging in my f*cking garage....it pisses him off when I park my car 'a lil to far to the left....'.  So...I do it on purpose.  It's one of those things where if you harp at me.....long enough.....and annoy me....I'm just gonna do it to piss you off.

Now the swearing thing...I try hard to not swear.  Honestly, you might not believe me.  However, I do.  I really do.

And this week while I was working.  Even though, it was all I could do NOT to just walk and/or drive right out into oncoming traffic....Dear Lord....I can't even begin tell you how obsessive and intrusive and constant those thoughts were.....I STILL TRIED very hard not to swear.  In my head....I was f* everything.  On my blog post a few days ago.....I warned the very few readers I have (and tons of spammers...dear lord if you don't stop sending me spam comments I'm gonna really say f*ck in a reply and f*ck'n take ur heads off).  However, I did not saw much other than "Oh' Dear Lord" or call someone an idiot (not to their face) outloud.

That would be....until today!!

OH MY F*CKING HELL!!  Today wasn't really a bad day at work.  Today was a rather bad day at work.  Traffic is bad.  People are stupid.  I have a no-bull-shit tolerance on most days. 

By 9am...I had swore a tad to much. I thought to myself;  "you need to stop. take a deep breathe".  Heck, I even took several really deep breathes and had a customer make a comment about it.  I replied with "You see all the idiots out there...this deep breathing is keeping me from taking every single one of their freeking heads off....and trying to curb the need to call every single one of them an 'effing idiot'. "  She laughed hysterically.

Then....not even 5 minutes later I hear....."Thud....Thud....Thud" and I look back.  And I see and hear more "thud thud thud"  and I say under my breathe "aww f*ck".  I secure the coach.  I get out of my seat.  And I'm pissed.  REALLY pissed.  And the drunk SOB who went 'thud thud thud' starts throwing out the F* bomb at me.  Oh hell no.  I'm not gonna go there. 

And then....I said a lil' saying my dear friend S* says.  I didn't' even catch it.  Several of my passengers did and I hear a roaring chuckle.  I'm not chuckling. 

I say it again...."Sir you're gonna piss my shit off if you don't shut up, get up and get off the bus".
and I say it again....at least 3-4 times.

I get back in my seat.  I hear one lady say "Uh, I like that piss my shit off"  I think "good like it...shut up".  I'm still pissed.

About 5 minutes later I think....."awww.....my friend S*....she was with me today as I lost my cool on drunk man #1".

I had several more drunks.  One who triggered some more deep breathing and "he's just a passenger.  he will get off. don't look at him. you are safe' montra over and over and over.

I hope and pray....it is a while before I have a day full of drunks again!!!