Stressed and Anxious, Again.

I guess past abuse means always having to work on being well.

I don’t want to write this. I feel nothing but resentment that I am expending yet more time and energy on you and the problems you cause in our lives, but here we are again. Your selfish inability to recognise your issues and manage them in an attempt to minimise harm to the other people in your life has left me stressed and anxious due to my own history of abuse.
It may seem like a cliche, but it really does feel like a lot of it happened to someone else when I look back. Yes, I have memories of it all. Well, the memories of a lot of it, but it feels more like a movie I watched and now remember the vital plot points. Still, the actual visceral experience is vague and haunting. Until something triggers a memory that jolts through me, making me nauseous, wanting to curl up in a ball with my eyes closed tight. I resist the desire to cry and steel myself against shaking or throwing up. In those moments, I remember it was me hiding in a cupboard. It was me sitting in a bathtub shaving the back of my hair too short and too much as I contemplated sinking under the water and never resurfacing for air.
I learnt from a young age that being yelled at and the threat of violence was how men behaved. I knew it wasn’t good, but it was normal. When Nate first threatened to hit me, I stood my ground. He…