Which came first: Depression or Abuse? First, the abuse of rape sent me spinning into finding a protector. My protector turned out to be mentally, emotionally and verbally abusive. Depression from the rape came first, but I was so busy dealing with the domestic abuse (that I didn’t realize was domestic abuse) that I believed, eventually, that the domestic abuse triggered my Depression. Confused? Sorry about that.
In short, rape caused the depression but the tumult of domestic abuse hid it from me. However, in the following journal entry from days gone by, I feel so happy that my mind cleared (thank you Prozac!) that I think the “rest of it” was my imagination.
In hindsight, I think it is possible the nightmare I describe was a clear and present reminder that he still acted like he did when he drank. He acted like a jerk drunk or sober and my mind tried to dream me into that realization.
Will is on pain medication for his suspected rheumatoid arthritis. The medication doesn’t kick in for an hour, and he has to get up at 7 to get ready for work today (Saturday).
When the alarm woke me up, I was having a dream that I was invited to a big sleep-over party…[and] I had bought a small bottle of Jack Daniel’s to take with me. Will called and said, “I will be dipping into the cooler tonight.” I realized he’d be drinking, and I was pissed.
Then we were …with others and he was talking like he always did in those drinking days – macho (“I’ll do what I want – why are you so upset?”) and getting mad at me because I didn’t want him to drink. After all, this party was supposed to be fun for ME, and now this – the usual old stuff.
In the dream, …[an old friend] came to me and said, “What’s the big deal? It’s just one time.” I started crying and said, “He’s already ACTING like a drunk!” and I knew it was just the FIRST time and we were on that road again…
Then the alarm went off and I woke up pissed at Will.
Then I realized that no, there he was lying there with the boys as he has so many mornings before, going to work for the extra 8 hours, sober, a totally different person from back then, and probably in pain. So instead of waking him up to go get his own bread and pill (take with food), I got up and fixed it for him.
I really appreciate all he has overcome to be the man I now love more than I ever could have before. I appreciate him, and I admire him. It felt good to realize that and do something nice for him today.
This is something I couldn’t have done for him a month ago when I was depressed. I wouldn’t have even considered getting up to do this for him and may have been stuck in thinking about the old ways all day long.
I think the Prozac is helping, and I think the angels are helping a lot more now that the clutter has cleared out of my mind.
You know I’ve planted a garden? And gotten a tan? And played with the kids AS WELL as got all my chores done? And found pathways to forgiving old hurts? AMAZING! Who would have thought?
It is so peaceful and quiet here. God’s Time…