What does a setback like this feel like?
Well, I stopped crocheting for a while. I just picked it up again today but my heart hasn’t been in the right place the last few days. Instead I’ve been picking at the sides of my fingernails, which is my classic anxious behaviour. People used to ask me why I did it so much, and I never knew why before all of the stuff of the last couple of years. But it’s how I react to strong anxiety. People used to get really annoyed by me doing it. That was super helpful, as you can imagine.
My heart hurts. I’m so sad and I feel lost and bereft every time I think about what happened. I feel betrayed.
I also feel loved. The very small circle of people that I trust have really shown their true and amazing colours, and have been there for me every time I get upset and need a cry or a hug. And L cut my hair yesterday and blow dried it, so I felt very glamorous for a while!
L and I went shopping in Southampton today and we had an absolute blast. And we met a lovely lady who makes headbands and scrunches. The one I picked out is one she calls “courage”, unbeknownst to me. So I showed her my tattoo, and told her some of my crazy life story. She says I should draw a picture of my life. So I’m going to think about how I would do that. Anyway check her out - https://katewhyley.com/ - she also makes lovely cards. She picked one out for me, which made me cry.
I spoke to Granny this evening - I hadn’t spoken to her since it all kicked off last week, and she was so shocked and horrified for me. I’m glad I didn’t phone her in the depths of it all as she would have felt very scared and worried for me, and probably quite helpless. But it was wonderful to talk to her this evening. I’m so lucky to have her. And so now, I’m safe and warm and I’m seeking and finding comfort where I can. But it feels hollow and empty and hurting inside again and I don’t like that. The betrayal by someone I trusted so much and considered such a good friend is the thing I can’t get my head around. The years of lies that he’s told me. The way he just walked out and left me there. The total lack of concern for my safety and well-being. This wasn’t someone that didn’t know what I’ve been through. This was someone I trusted with the details. He even lied about the work he did. He pretended he worked for a government organisation sorting out people trafficking and so on. He pretended he had PTSD from it. We talked about that over dinner on Wednesday night. He asked how my complex PTSD presents itself. How fucked up is that? What the hell was going on in his head? Why all the lies? I guess I can’t understand. But I do wish he hadn’t involved me in his lies and his twisted version of reality. I do feel like I was gullible and naive though. That’s on me, and that’s something I can work on in the future. I shall run things by my friends, and my readers here. You can all help me work out when someone is lying to me. I’ve got this. I do. I’m going to get through this shit. It’s going to make me much more wary in the future but maybe that’s a good thing. And I’ll work on my picture for Kate.