One of the illnesses that doesn't get much coverage on this blog is my PTSD. That's Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder for those who don't know. According to the first line in Wiki, it's "a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event that results in psychological trauma." Well, I have plenty of THAT in my life. I was reared in a household where the threat of corporal punishment was perpetual, even for merely PERCEIVED slights. Then there was a robbery, in which I was a victim, and I can tell you from experience that staring down the barrel of a loaded gun being held by someone with malicious intent is terrifying...to say the very least. And what cemented this illness into my already damaged head was an attack that took place while I was asleep.
Oddly, all events prior to the attack weren't contemplated nearly as much until AFTERWARD. Now, whenever there's a sudden, loud noise while I'm asleep, I wake with a scream. This includes a simple knock on my bedroom door from housemates.
Why bring this up? Because I think this is the reason why I went looking for some information on my ex, and why it became so upsetting to me. What I SHOULD have done when that curious thought popped into my head was talk to Becky about all the wonderful things we've been planning. Instead, curiosity got the better of me, and I learned JUST ENOUGH to get my imagination rolling. And because what Robin did to me in the past was pretty traumatic all on its own, it became a serious of thoughts that I simply couldn't shake.
Mind you, I'm better today. I spilled my guts on most of what was dwelling inside my head, fact or fiction, and have been spending my time dwelling on the fact that I am so "crazy-go-nuts" about Becky.
Several people have voiced their concern over the fact that I became so upset recently over this woman who abandoned me over 10 years ago. The only way I can explain it, to myself as well as others, is to say that it MUST be the PTSD.
One specific friend, however, would point out that I've been like this since long before the attack. I would harp on a great deal of the bad things that have happened to me, often refusing to let it go. It's such a complex and jumbled web of thought processes inside my head, but I think it all stems from the way I was brought up. All that was discussed were the bad things. My brothers and I were in trouble all the time. A day didn't go by without my mother having SOMETHING to scream about. I was programmed to be this way, and now I have an illness that seems to target the negative and amplify the horrible feelings that come with it.
This happens every now and again, and I fear the only way to prevent it is to detour my thinking the moment I see myself heading down that old PSTD road. Unfortunately, by the time I recognize what I'm doing to myself, it's too late. I've already started dwelling on that which did me great harm.
This only EXPLAINS the situation, but doesn't excuse it. There is no excuse for generating concern over something that should, by now, mean nothing. Robin left me. She hurt me a great deal. I haven't spoken to her since the day she left. And that, my friends, should be the end of it. But is it? Nooo. I just have to drag my old skeletons out and examine them in public, making my friends worry. To that, I must apologize. And I thank all who voiced their concerns.
Meanwhile, on a MUCH happier note, Becky has finally met with success in her hunt for an apartment close to college. The landlord calls it "an efficiency plus," but I call it a studio apartment. That's because its size and furnishings seem to be the same as what I was living in in AZ.
Now here's the really good part: because Becky has a place to live, I'll officially be able to visit her in December, as well as in March of next year. Each direction of travel is over 30 hours by bus, but the trips will be affordable. And we'll no longer have to deal with the expense of a motel. It'll be great, just me and my Becky, curled up and cuddling, without fearing housemates using the bathroom in the middle of a romantic moment, or worrying about being up in time for check out.
As an added bonus, her semester ends toward the beginning of May. If all goes as planned, that's when I'll move to PA. With any luck at all, that means there should be time in our schedules to head for the GitP meet-up, which is usually in June!
Here's hoping all schedules, medical stuff, and finances allow for it.
Be well, all. =)