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Adaptation

November 3, 2009

I see nothing through the same eyes.  Everything is changed,  different.  Things that have been familiar, my concious calls into question.  People I have known, I look at with envy, wishing that I could share the same laughter I always had. 

 I told my husband on the way home from the police station that day “this could really fuck me up bad.”  I vowed to him and myself that I would do everything in my power not to let this destroy me, devour me, swallow me whole.  After the initial shock wore off I felt okay, ALWAYS knowing that at some point it would “hit me”.  

I started treatment 3 days after the assault and I was diagnosed with PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder).  The anxiety and panic attacks subsided and left for awhile.  I laughed, I ate and I continued on with my life.  He would gain power if I did not, and that was not okay with me.  Luna deserved the best and I was determined to heal positively. 

As I sit here and write and relive the past I am inflicted with simliar, but more subdued emotions.  I have noticed that I lock my doors more often, I am a bit more scittish when Brian is not in the house, and I feel a wave of fear once in awhile when things feel really normal and settled.  The baby’s second birthday approaches and I wonder everyday if something similar will happen to her.  Triggers, my life is filled with them; Stevie Wonder, brisk winter days, Christmas, knives, and especially Luna.  Fear attaches itself to things that I love.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Linda permalink
    November 5, 2009 3:54 am

    Dear Amy,
    Thank you for your willingness to share this incredibly painful experience with me. Your story demonstrates how you live from your center, which makes all the difference.
    Our conversation today means so much more to me after having read your story. I know there is nothing I can do to take away your pain but want you to know I am open to being present to you in your pain. Your absolute commitment to protecting Luna throughout your ordeal is the embodiment of what love is at its best. Luna has had a horrific experience but she also has had the opportunity to learn that her mother will do everything humanly possible to protect her. That is a precious gift in the midst of the pain.
    During the time of my crisis I learned a phrase that I believe describes you, Amy. The phrase is “wounded healer”. You are wounded, indeed, but you also have an incredible spirit. I celebrate your spirit and commit myself to traveling on this journey with you.
    Shalem (wholeness),
    Linda

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