When Therapy Stumbles

TW: Talk of trauma, abuse

I've been in and out of regular therapy for almost a decade. Typical millennial, I know. I've taken great pride in the fact that in the last decade, I've made major strides in the person I've been working to become. It's become easier to recognize signs of becoming overwhelmed, communication is far more effective than it was a decade ago, and it's apparent when triggers are presenting themselves. While I'm diagnosed with a few disorders, two of which are directly related to trauma, it feels like I'm doing way better than before. Boundaries are clear, and I'm better at standing up for myself.

I'm nothing like the person I used to be, while still embracing the core of who I've always been.

Regressing From Progress

Then I have moments like over the weekend. A simple miscommunication, and suddenly I'm right back to where I started. Trauma comes unraveling, and I'm shouting and feeling like my safety and sanity are threatened. Out of nowhere, I'm right back to the person who wasn't allowed to join in for one reason or another, an afterthought. I'm being pushed away, and I'm going to be gaslit for every wrong committed by my partner, hit for having the audacity to stand up for myself, or worse. It's like being taken back in time; I'm going to have to fight for my life today. It's going to be me and a kitchen knife, hoping I'm able to get away from the person who wants to see my life end.

It doesn't make sense to be in this place, but there I was. I was under no threat, but everything in me was screaming to fight because I'll never be the same if I don't. So I start a fight, and for the life of me... I don't know why. Looking back on it, it just doesn't make sense. Why did this have to happen? Why was I in such a state when I'm normally good at recognizing minor mishaps for what they are? Normally, I'd have taken this in stride.

Recognizing the Traumaversary

After the fact, I see the date of the blowout and recognize that it was a traumaversary; it's been thirteen years since one of the most significant traumas of my formative years, something that took me almost five years to even begin to come to terms with. I regressed, and it's like being in that place all over again, before ever putting work into healing, or knowing how deep the damage ran.

It honestly took me by surprise to have that particular moment of regression. Again, it's been thirteen years, and while I still tend to have bad days each year, I've been getting better for the last few years. For several years following that day, I would get absolutely blackout, forget-your-own-name levels of drunk on this particular traumaversary. I'd do anything I could to get away from the flashbacks that came with seeing the date on the calendar.

I was sober this year. The switch still flipped, and I'm suddenly arguing with my partner like he was trying to hurt me.

It felt like nine years of therapy went out the window. Suddenly it felt like I had to fight for my life all over again. My partner hadn't done anything to threaten my safety, nor had he done anything that should have warranted the reaction. The next thing I knew, we were catching triggers on both sides, and the situation kept escalating. We unleashed years of pain at each other, and all over something so minor. Panic attacks and a small pond of tears later, and we're sitting in silence on the bed, trying to figure out what happened.

Recovery Isn't Linear

Traumaversaries don't go away so simply. Even if I've processed and found ways to understand and correct my responses on a day-to-day basis, there's something about the reminder of that day, the one that cut the deepest and altered the way I think that refuses to be shaken. I want to just "let it go" and move on from it. And for the most part, I have. But the cycle wakes up again every year, no matter how I try to change my reactions to the reminder.

This year, my traumaversary took me to a dark place, and I regrettably took it out on the man I love. It's taking me days to recover from the feelings that came out. Nightmares follow me of the traumas that have happened since that first big one, but in these nightmares, my current partner was the one perpetuating the abuse. My system keeps running hot and cold, I'm throwing up every morning, and my skin feels like it burns even when I feel frozen, even though I have no fever. Every time I've spoken to my partner, it feels like I had to put on the happiest voice and make sure I don't show how I feel so he won't leave. I accidentally let it slip that I'd been having nightmares and felt my stomach drop.

Then he asked me about my nightmares, and I hesitated. If I told him that I had this nightmare of him hurting me, prying my children from me, abusing me, I was sure that he'd get angry. He'd leave. He'd threaten to make it a reality if I ever said something like that again, because how could I even suggest it.

I cautiously told him anyway, or at least a sliver of what had me the most terrified. I told him about waking up in a state where I couldn't distinguish dreams from reality, and how I woke up sure that everything had really happened. I'd run looking for my children, checking myself for bruises, peeking around corners for an attacker. He didn't respond anything like my fears suggested.

Instead, he listened. He reassured me that it was only a dream. He let me change the subject when I was feeling overwhelmed, and showed me compassion. Just like after the argument, he didn't try to hurt me. He may not have understood everything right away, but he stayed. He listened. He recognized that I was waking up from a trauma response, and let me process. I didn't have to be scared.

We Still Make Progress

I'm not going to pretend like I have the answer to erasing or forgetting the traumaversary that I endure every year. This year, I learned more about myself and my partner. I learned where I still have work to do, and we learned together where things needed to improve in our communication to prevent this type of thing from happening. It was a painful kind of growth.

Do I think this would have happened if it weren't for the traumaversary? Maybe, maybe not. I don't know. I'm usually far more level-headed than I was that night. This response was unlike me; at least, the me that I've developed into over the last decade. It's been the majority of a week since it happened, and I'm still haunted by it. Not because of my boyfriend, but because I'm seeing the work that is still left to do. I've been feeling defeated for it getting the better of me.

Right now, I'm trying to recognize the good; how much progress I've made on my own, and how far I've come with my partner. The fact that I have someone who is willing to resolve things with me when I lose the carefully curated control I've developed over the years. I'm still bouncing back, but I know that I have this amazing partner who stands by me. I'm trying to look at that moment as something that I can use to illuminate the path to healing.