Rings around the moon.

"So it's been one year really"? Yes...because I don't think it really ended, getting beaten up by her husband wasn't them ending it. I don't think it's really ended now... "It sounds to me as if he's done" "What do you think of me for saying that"? That it hurts.  It's what my friends say.  What do I think? I know that they are on my side.. "You have some good friends, most friends say 'yeah well never liked him, he's a bastard..." Yeah, they've got my back. Not sure what to say now, above is a bit of my dialogue with my therapist. Friends have been through this stuff before, friends have seen a lot, and my friends really do 'have my back'. But me? I'm down and out, I'm grieving, been grieving in and out for a year. the process interrupted again and again by hope, and disrupted by lies. Going round Tesco's today was an ordeal, my whole married life flashing before my eyes. Wanting to cur...

Every time I felt that I knew, and dared a question I was told to 'drop it!' or given reassurance that felt empty. The small details that pointed towards truth, like myriad compass needles in his attitude, in my feelings, possibly her scent even.  Were telling me the truth. But I was told No...always no. Lies told, not to make me feel guilty.  He said. ? He told lies to 'protect me'. He said... ? Didn't I see how stressed he was, how tired, how hard everything was... And "I'm still here aren't I"  Yet I believe that his intention was a variety of kindness. Wrapped in blame.  And... This is where it gets nasty. I was to blame because I would be upset.  Today was the last time. Enough. I chose to call this process out.  Gaslighting? Close enough, too close... He had left two weeks ago with an ambiguous, "I'll do my dad's house up and sell it and then we will see". So today I asked him if a return was one of those possibilities. Ag...

He has told me he is a liar and so I cannot tell; was it truth or lie when he said that when he was sectioned there was a man so steeped in silent panic that all he could do was stand terror struck, breathing rapidly, no words. Josh said "I hugged him and he whispered thank you. When he was better I think it was because I hugged him" and I said, "probably..yes." My bracelet had arrived; it's a kind of Dune bracelet, the word version of the solar eclipse - did I write about that? Instead of Frank Herbert's words: "Fear is the mind killer I will face my fear..." my bracelet - due to character limit has the words on the outside: I let fear pass over me. And on the inside "I let fear pass through me.. And when I was terrified I could not let fear pass over me or through me, I stood terror struck, face to the wall, unable to speak of move.. So the timing of the story was interesting. An apology?

I don't know how it started - it was just words. Then the expression and venom in his face detonates in me and the world shatters with the taste of porridge and oranges (the breakfast I was eating on that day - when he smashed the kitchen and damaged my car and I couldn't run or not run, just scream and hide). I hear and feel the terror I felt each time I didn't know...and it is here, right now. I'm not it. This is real. This thing that keeps on. The hatred and attack that happens in response to me asking for it not to be, asking for rage to be put aside. I speak because I can't take it...and not being able to take it always gets this response. More. And now my rising panic is magnified because I get exactly the same response from my husband when I ask him to disarm rage..until there is only staring straight ahead and silence. Like death in life, or a life in death. No life, no love. No joy. shut down. Lock out. I lock myself into my bedroom and let my panic...

Anxiety is a long haul nightmare mediated through the hormone, cortisol. Cortisol blunts the hippocampi - the 'sea horses' that file and compile reports on new experience through memory. And panic is a reaction to the physical sensation of adrenaline, fear of what the sensations mean. In short, sustained adrenaline leads to cortisol, leads to inability to make sense...cortisol makes it totally worse...six months to recover... I like the way a scientific understanding drains energy from reality. In my case, the energy is conveyed by a description of how bad it can get - and I'm not going to add colour because it is too awful - the bit where I feel like a dog being yelled at to 'stop it', or 'drop it'...is put here in a flat, and unemotional way. The bit where he threw his wedding ring at me. The times I've been told how stupid I am and how he doesn't love me. Well yeah...Those places are too bad, too cruel and so bitter. They have not been r...

There is one core dialogue that took place in our kitchen between Josh, the psychiatrist and myself that stays...does not go away, does not lose it's power. By then it was already too late. If we had wanted to avoid Josh's suicide attempt, we had already missed the crossroads and taken the wrong direction. Nothing done by the Home Visit team helped Josh or us. I believe their treatment was instrumental in what happened later. Here is the dialogue. . Dr: How are you doing Josh: er OK Dr: OK and you stopped taking medication again Josh: I restarted it again on Friday again Dr: right so how many did you stop there Josh: erm 2 Dr: 2 days Josh: yeah Dr: do you want staff to come every morning to supervise taking the medication? J no... Dr: why not? Dr: I 'd rather not Dr: I'd rather not - what's the reason you'd rather not? You are going to take it anyway whether the staff here or not. Staff come and encourage you. You stop taking for...

...was difficult. Ex-Service-User's monologue in full flood, for four days. I ate Christmas dinner wearing ear plugs. And the daytime noise doesn't calm down or end, and yet he is silent all night - one of the things I'm so grateful for...But really, the only model that fits the evidence (being coherent, polite and calm whilst talking to a doctor, police or waiting in A+E...) is character disorder. Regardless of origin, all his fear and rage and eloquent expositions of victim-hood, are aimed at us, my husband and I. The rage is aimed at us - ha, this is just guessing by me by the way - the rage is aimed at us because he has 'stuck process'  [link] . Authoritarian folk don't get it aimed at them straight away, but it would only take a few hours before they too would get the monologue and increasing anger directed at them. It is violent, and it means to do harm. Yeah, I'm sounding paranoid now, but I'm not. It takes a lot of courage on my part to...