Surviving Them

It happened out of the blue, which is how it normally happens. I was going along, doing well, handling daily stresses. And then BOOM! It took me out.

I saw those words. Her name. I read it over and over again thinking I must be getting it wrong. I lost the ability to move or speak. I began berating myself. 

What is the appropriate response to seeing an abuser commenting on a post I am tagged in on Facebook? I didn't get the email explaining etiquette or protocol for this particular situation.

She is apparently friends with a couple of people I follow on Facebook. I hadn't seen anything by her previously. Sure I've stalked a bit to find out if any of them are on Facebook, but I never found any. I have my page locked down pretty tightly. So I thought I was safe.

Last Sunday she invaded my private cyber world of peace and joy. She robbed me of a few minutes of joy following a good walk and talk with my husband. Just seeing her name and then her face brought back all the panic and terror from years ago.

I told my husband. I journaled about it. I cried a little. I stressed about how to handle it. And I went back to believing I was the liar -- but only for a few minutes. I shifted into "wwmcs" mode (what would my counselor say). She would say -- "look at the visceral reaction you are having to just seeing her name. The physical expressions of the terror. You can't make that happen. This is a classic PTSD reaction to a trigger."

So I thought about what to do. I could climb in bed and pull the covers over my head for the rest of the day, or I could choose to acknowledge how upsetting this was, but not give her the power to take away my joy. I remembered a craft project I had been wanting to take care of, so I went and made it. A rosary I've been meaning to make for months. To send to a friend -- just because. As I picked out beads and a cross, and tested combinations of beads, I came back to myself. To the truth. This is who I am. I am a survivor. I am the one who picks herself up over and over again, even when they keep trying to knock me down.

And yes, on Monday, I sat in my counselor's office and I cried like a baby from fear and pain and loneliness. I cried for it happening all over again. I cried for not having people in my life that I want. I berated myself. But I got it out and found that I was still here. And I came home and blocked her name on Facebook and adjusted my privacy settings. 

I'm still here. Surviving.

Blessings!