She’s So Lucky

This may be a peculiar takeaway to the uninitiated, but bear with me through this insomnia-fueled stream of consciousness (a.k.a. the title of Fall Out Boy’s next smash hit).

You’re Crashing, But You’re No Wave

Between his unmanaged Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), alcohol abuse, mommy issues*, lack of responsible firearm ownership, anger problems, sleepwalking**, and other risky behaviors, we’d already had too many close calls to count.

Wow, that list was far too easy to make. When I tell you I could go on… I literally started an entire blog about it, so I guess I plan to. I only stopped listing things so I could get to the point.

The (After) Life of the Party

I consider every single day spent away from my abuser to be a day I reclaimed from death. And you know what? I fought through hell to earn them. I’m grateful for every moment I won back for myself. I also know I’m unfathomably lucky.

So when you see me out hiking, don’t poke fun at me if I suddenly stop, close my eyes, and take a deep breath of desert creosote. I almost didn’t get the opportunity to discover how much I love that smell.

When we’re driving with the windows down, belting a song we love, and I burst into tears? Don’t mind me. I’m just reacting in real time to a treasured moment I nearly missed out on.

If I feel compelled to lay out, clearly and exhaustively, exactly how deeply I care about you each and every time I say goodbye, it’s only because I almost didn’t get a chance to tell you.

Every moment I’m fortunate enough to experience is such a gorgeous twist of fate, and I’m not wasting this lucky streak.

*Mommy Issues

Did I need to mention his mommy issues? Nah, but I went back and added it. No further comment.

**Bonus Horror Story

Oh my goodness gracious, I haven’t told you about the sleepwalking yet. Probably because it sounds absolutely absurd and survivors have enough issues being believed.

I used to regularly wake up to this man sitting up in bed next to me, completely asleep, disassembling and reassembling the guns he kept by the bed.

Not to brag, but I also maintained a 100% success rate at calmly talking the traumatized, sleeping, usually drunk dude into putting down the weapon.

Did this deter him from sleeping with multiple firearms within arm’s reach? I bet you can guess the answer.

Did I happen to mention my insomnia?

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Veronica Wren Trauma Recovery Book Club

Old Enough: A Novel — Haley Jakobson

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