Stretching

"There comes a moment in the life of every individual when reality must be faced. When this happens, it is as though some link between emotion and reason is stretched to the limit of endurance, and sometimes snaps."

--Daphne du Maurier

I don't know when or where I read this quote for the first time. I'm not sure if is a real life quote from Daphne du Maurier or a quote from one her novels. I do know that the minute I read it, it resonated with me in a mesmerizing fashion.

I hope every person has that moment -- where reality must be faced -- but I'm not sure they do. I know a lot of people who seem to continue living in their dream worlds. For me it wasn't one moment though. It's been progressive moments over a period of years. A series of links that have been tested -- stretched at times to that breaking point. 

There was a phrase that I said a lot in the beginning and the middle of coming to grips with the PTSD and accepting the abuse as reality. "I just don't know if I can do this anymore." I'm not sure exactly what it meant -- suicide was considered, even organized in my head. I could never get past what a legacy it would leave for my kids, and a sense that it would give evidence to the naysayers who thought I was just "very sick".

I think what I was really looking for was a time out. A chance to regroup and catch my breath before the next wave of reality and emotion crested over me threatening to take me down. I never envisioned it as snapping, but more like drowning. And yet I felt compelled and obligated to keep getting my head above water if only to tread on a little bit longer because I had obligations and responsibility -- and besides what would people think or say if I didn't do what was expected.

When I was finally able to truly face reality and what it all meant, I had built up enough strength and knowledge, and created a support group, that I didn't snap. But I understand those who do and those who, perhaps, sometimes wish they had. I know the story of one woman who did snap and left behind a husband and children who deal with it every single day. I think of them often. I don't blame her. I do blame the abusers and the naysayers for not holding her up. For taking the easy route for themselves by saying she was crazy -- had always been off her rocker. You would be too if you'd been abused and no one would listen to you or believe you when you tried to tell them.

That link between emotion and reason has been stretched over and over again. Thank God it hasn't snapped.

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