I guess it's time I tell you all about why I have my own PTSD. At least one of the stories. When I was 18 years old, I got married. I graduated High School a semester early (another story for another time as to why I did that) and I moved away to start my college life. Not even a few months after I was in college, I met Matthew Nikon. -So before i tell you this story, you need to know something else. When I was 17, my dad died of cancer (again, another story for another time) - I fell away from the LDS church that I grew up in and my mom basically shunned me. I wasn't allowed to come home for Spring Break because of how mad she was at me. I met Matthew, who was 24 at the time and a return missionary for the LDS church. When I told my mother that I was dating an LDS man, she was ecstatic and told me "dad sent him here for you". What the fuck? How was I supposed to take that? Of course I began to fall in love with Matthew. He really was a great guy! plus, my mom was my friend again and "my dad sent him for me", right? 4 short months later we were engaged, and 2 months later we were married in the St. George temple.
About two months after me and Matthew got married.. That is when things started to go downhill. No one knew because, you know me, I am good at lying and putting on a face. So I pretended things were okay and that I was alright. The WE were alright. I was trying to convince myself things were okay between Matthew and I. I figured, if I kept pretending, then sooner or later it would just be okay. What I mean by "downhill", he began to verbally abuse me. Call me names, yell at me, was very vulgar towards me... and I took it. People always say that marriage is gunna' be hard and that the first year will be the hardest.. But, now I know that it should never be THAT hard. So, the verbal abuse began. He never seemed to care about anything to do with me.. I didn't know what we were becoming. Just rolling through the motions everyday, I could try or not try, and it seemed like he could care less either way. As time went on, I began to lose my faith in the church and in God. I lost all faith. Lost my testimony... well lost what little of a testimony I had from the beginning. So, slowly, I stopped going to church and stopped praying and reading scriptures.A few months later, he began to be physically abusive to me. He would hit me, grab me, bruise me, scream at me. I was trapped in an abusive relationship. Physically and emotionally abusive relationship. I always thought to myself... (why do women stay in an abusive relationship. I feel like it would be so easy to leave someone like that) -well, now I know how hard it is. I loved him. I loved him so much even when he would hurt me. I couldn't leave him. I told no one and dealt with it. I would cover up my bruises and cover up my pain and hurt that I felt. A few months rolled by and I broke down. I couldn't take it anymore. I found out he had cheated on me with a girl he worked and went to school with. I was beyond hurt. I kicked Matthew out and asked for a divorce. 3 weeks with very minimal talking, he came over and we talked all night. He apologized for everything and promised he would work on our relationship together, I believed him. I loved him. So, I took him back. Not less than 2 weeks later it all began again. He began screaming profanities out to me again, calling me terrible, hurtful names. He began hitting me again, This time more often and with a lot more force. I thought I could take it, I thought I could fix him and change him. I loved him and I didn't want to leave him. I married him. I made a commitment to him, to stay with him through good and bad. But I became so depressed and so lost and alone. Finally I go the courage. On October first, I told him I was leaving him and that we were getting divorced and there was going to be no discussion on the matter. I packed up some of my things, and I slept in my car for a week outside of work. I would get up in the morning and shower and get ready at the gym then head to work. Finally I found an apartment near work to move into. About 3-4 weeks after I left, I met up with Matthew to give him some things that I found of his. I was returning his stuff. I met him at his house and I was dumb enough to go alone. Matthew forced me down stairs, abused me and raped me. During all of this, it was so much stress on my body that I went into shock and I passed out. When I woke up he was nowhere around so I ran out of there and left.
When Charles and I started dating, I would start to have a panic attack anytime he made a sudden movement. If he touched my neck I would start to hysterically cry. Charles helped me move past that. Which is why I had to leave him. His lashing out has started to cause my PTSD to come back. It's just so hard. I want to be there for him through his pain, but I cant'. I can't cause my own issues to surface again. I was in a dark place after and during my divorce. I made some bad choices I can never take back. I have scars that will never fade; emotional and physical scars. Am I wrong to be feeling the way I feel or to be doing what I am?
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