Medically Speaking

In my previous post I talked about my most recent counseling session. From that I have really be evaluating previous sexual relationships. I've realized that the reason my sex drive dropped of could actually be explain scientifically. Sex hormones are directly affected by your adrenals. You adrenals are responsible for the stress hormones and the "fight or flight" response to perceived danger. Why would someone want to have sex in a situation where they have those hormones running through their veins?! The short answer (at least for myself) is I wouldn't and didn't. 

My sex drive tanked within weeks of the wedding. I thought it was a side effect of my depression. I also thought it might be a natural part of getting older (I'm only 30). In actuality, it wasn't me or least it wasn't my fault. As I sit here and think about what my marriage was it almost feels like a horrible nightmare. You know the kind that you remember years after it happened? I can think of three that scared me so much that I can still tell you in detail about each of them. My mind tells me I'm ok now but my emotions would disagree. 

I was also ready about what adrenal fatigue can do to other organs. Hypoglycemia is the hallmark to adrenal fatigue. You're body is so stressed that it can't maintain proper insulin levels. I can remember how bad I got. At least weekly I would "crash" and feel dizzy to the point of almost passing out. I used to have to carry snacks with me at all times and but they wouldn't always help. Silly me thought, I just need some sugar and I'll be fine. Now I think to myself, this was my body screaming at me to stop, rest and relax. Sugar was not healing the root of the issue.

I went gluten free and the "crashes" became less frequent but they still happened. I can remember one in particular a few months before moving to the coast. I had been gluten free for a year and I had sugar and 30 minutes later I tanked again and had more sugar. I was so weak I couldn't walk. 

I have days in which I'm just angry at everyone and everything (like today). I don't want anyone to talk to me and I don't want to be interrupted (at work). I wish I could just go home and close the blinds and shut the world out. I'm no peach today. My dog knows me so well and is such a blessing. He was extra cuddly when I went home for lunch. He knows I'm not myself. I appreciate him even more these days after last week when my Mum had to put her dog to down. Her little dog was the sweetest little Pomeranian you've ever met. So quiet and calm (the opposite of most poms), he saved my Mum life and kept her from committing suicide on many occasions. This is also true for my dog. He keep me getting out of bed every day, even if it's just to walk him and get back into bed. He loves me even when I don't love myself. 

I have been overeating again (or still). It's really bad. I haven't gain too much weight in the scheme of things but it's really unhealthy. I can't stop myself. I think it's both psychological as well as physical. Psychologically speaking, he used to throw out food and threaten to make me go hungry. I am always worried I'll go hungry. I stock pile groceries (given the space limitations I have). It's a good thing in a sense because in the event of an emergency (such as an earthquake), I have food and water to last me at least two weeks. 

Physically speaking, my body is recovering from a stressful situation and given that my adrenals are all out of whack, my body is telling me to stock up for the next stressful situation. It all goes back to the beginning of time where humans didn't always eat daily. The pattern today is very different from then, we eat several meals ever single day. Humans use to eat one very large meal every few days. Our metabolism slows down to protect us from starvation and death. Our brains tell us eat, eat, eat. Fats and sugars are our bodies favorites. High calorie food like milkshakes, burgers and candy. Notice how great they taste in comparison to a spinach salad? My body is telling me, eat now while you have the chance. I learnt all of these years ago after watching "Hungry for a Change" but only realized that this was applicable to me recently. 

Tough Counseling Session

I met with my counselor Sunday. I was filled with a certain amount of dread going in. I knew what we were going to be talking about and it's the most difficult topic for me. Sex. Now I've talked about it in this post but it's one thing to tell all of you out there from the safety of my home and from behind my computer screen. But I walked in there knowing that it had to be said, I had to work through all the hurts in order to heal.

The beginning of the discussion was around whether or not what was done to me was sexual assault. I haven't admitted or allowed myself to believe that I was raped. Look at the media and the image they paint of sexual assaults and rapes are very different. They're usually some situation where a girl is held down by a strange man and is screaming "no" and fighting to get away. This isn't always the case. I thought it wasn't rape because I never said "no". I mean, I said no with my eyes, my body language and my demeanor. But I never said the word "no" and he continued. I learned Sunday that I was raped. That because I said "no" without words he was violating me. 

I remember less than a year into the marriage I would pinch myself or bit my hand while he was on top of me. I didn't want to allow my mind to focus on the sensation of him. I would rather hurt myself then allow my body to respond to him. He noticed one the marks and welts on my body once but I quickly said it must have been an allergic reaction to something. I stopped doing that to myself after that. Around that time I started hurting myself. I would scratch my upper thighs with scissors and I would feel relief from doing it. Shortly there after I started seeing a counselor but it wasn't a good fit and I stopped after seeing her twice. 

I knew deep down that this relationship was not right. He had me so convinced that I was crazy and overly emotional. But I wasn't. My counselor asked me (in a round about way) if I had had sexual relationships with other men. I told her I had, after all I wasn't a Christian when I got married. She asked me to think back to those relationships and ask myself what did a "normal" relationship with them look like. It was a light bulb moment. 

I had a wonderful relationship when I was 17. Tim was sweet, caring and treated my like a princess. He is the man I measured any other potential boyfriends against. He didn't always understand why I needed something but did whatever he could to make me happy. I remember that part. The part I somehow forgot was the sex part. What did that part of that relationship look like? He was a virgin (and I was not) when we met. We waited months before we decided to have sex. After the first time, he didn't change they way he treated me. He still made grand romantic gestures. I think back to the Valentine's day he planned. He made me dinner and had set up candles and flower peddles and put on music and we slow danced. I had sexual desire for him. I initiated sex on more than one occasion because I actually wanted to have sex. I was able to say no without worrying how he would take it. We broke up amicably because he was off to college and we just grew apart. 

I also had a semi-wonderful relationship with Matt when I was 18. We dated for nearly two and a half years. We did argue and he did fall short (on occasion) of being the perfect boyfriend but he was good to me. We had a healthy sex life. The way he treated me after the first time was no different than before. He loved me and actually planned to propose to me but I broke up with him before he had the chance. We stayed in touch via email for a while and we actually tried to get back together a year later but I had changed so much and he hadn't changed (grown up) since the day I met him. 

So now that I've really tried to remember the normal relationships I've had I'm curious how I allowed myself to be in such a destructive one. Where did I go wrong? According to my older sister (and I would have to agree with her to a certain extent), I rushed into the relationship after my live-in boyfriend dumped me. We had plans to buy a house and while marriage wasn't officially talked about I assumed that was the path we were on. We even got a puppy together (which I kept btw). But he dumped me, via text message while I was at work. Classy guy, I know.

So I was living in a city without many friends, heart broken and lost. I stayed single for nearly a year after but I still had a feeling like I was missing out. People around me were either married or getting married and I was the only single person in my circle of friends. I felt like I wanted to be a part of their club, the married people club. I even saw one friend get engaged 2 months after meeting her husband and married 4 months later. I figured since it worked out for them and they seemed happy that it could work out for me. Thus the 9 months from first meeting to married with him. 

Over the past two days I've been trying to come to grips with the fact that I was a rape victim and that it wasn't my fault. I did what I had to do to survive. Much like girls that are trafficked or women in countries that have civil wars going on. You can't lay on the ground and cry forever. The world is still going on and yours must too. As I type I feel my mind trying to downplay it all. "Well you weren't gang raped" or "you weren't raped in front of others" but the truth is, being raped by someone you know and that tells you they love you carries it's own burdens. 

My counselor really tried to help me understand that labeling it rape doesn't change what was done; that it doesn't change me. I can chose to tell or not tell anyone I wish. That I don't have it tattooed to my forehead for the world to see. My concern was that my Mum was violently raped (by strangers) a few months before my wedding and she did not cope very well. Her mental state deteriorated so much that she had to go on disability and only in the last year and a half has she regained her sense of self-worth. I was so afraid (and still am a bit) that by labeling the action rape I will fall down the path myself. I don't worry so much about having a day were I'm depressed and don't want to get off the couch. I do however worry that that one day might turn into two and then a week. I'm actually glad that I had to work my second job yesterday because it allowed me to focus on something else yesterday evening instead of sitting on the couch and eating until it hurt. More on that one in another post. 

Imagination

Imagination is a wonderful thing, isn't it? Currently I imagine the day I'm debt free, traveling and the day my divorce is final. 

Imagination also kept me going on those hard days. I was yelled at, belittled or frightened by his actions and I would lay in bed waiting for him to fall asleep and imagine a post-apocalyptic world where he had died during the disaster and I would have to bury him in the back yard. I imagined being found by some buff outdoorsy man who would rescue and take care of me. He wouldn't try and scare me or make me feel bad about myself. He would be sweet and caring. 

My imagination also played a part in my staying as long as I did. I thought I loved him, I imagined him being the man he pretended to be in public. I was in love with the man I wanted him to be, not the man he was. I imagined him as chivalrous, thoughtful and that he really had changed since the last fight. Thing is, he never did. That was my imagination playing tricks on me. That and the years I spent being manipulated. 

His manipulation tactics had such a stronghold on me. I remember being asked by him if I would remarry if he died. I said probably and felt guilty about it. He said he wouldn't remarry because he only loved me and couldn't imagine marrying anyone else. 

He professed that during his adulthood that he would never marry, that he didn't believe in it. How the heck did I change his mind?! Is it because he knew that I wasn't looking for just a long-term relationship? Did he realize that I was easy to manipulate and thus figured I would be a good person to marry and push around? 

We know that it certainly wasn't because of his religious beliefs. He had convinced me that he was agnostic before we married. I remember the first time I went to our church without him after the wedding. He had told me a few days before that in fact he was certain that God didn't exist. I was crushed and my "perfect" little married life world began to crumble. This was before the first incident of physical abuse but after the financial blow I mentioned in a previous post.

I wasn't a Christian went I married but found my faith in the months after the wedding. The closer to God I felt and the more I learned about God the harder my marriage became. It was just another way he could hurt me. The other way he could use my faith against me was that Christians aren't supposed to divorce. I thought that God hated divorce; that it was right up there with murder.

I'm now learning that while divorce isn't God's design for marriage, He doesn't group it in with murder. God hates abuse. This weeks homework is to study and find passages that will help me feel more solid about how I was a good wife and went through the proper processes to try and fix my marriage. I know I had a right to leave because he was unrepentant but my counselor wants me to fell 100% confident that I was supposed to according to the bible. 

Questions and Answers

I (as the type A people pleasing person I am) asked my older sister to answer the questions my counselor suggested. She was brutally honest and almost to the point of the "I told you so" attitude. I will say that out of my sisters I am the more sensitive and thoughtful one. My older sister is the stable and self-assured one and my younger sister is... well let's just say she has an artistic temperament.  

She later apologized on the phone because she felt like she was a bit too blunt. I assured her that it was okay; that I didn't want it to be "sugar-coated". 

I made plans with a friend of mine to have breakfast this Saturday and I'll be asking her the same questions. I'm really afraid I will actually get an "I told you so" so I know that I need to be very clear at the beginning what I'm looking for so I can avoid the potentially hurtful situation. 

After two months of training for my half marathon my adrenals are shot. My anxiety is high and I feel like I'm constantly trembling. I felt this coming for the last week or two but I've been in denial. After much research I've learned that I am unable to continue running. I've also decided to shut off the computer and Iphone by 9:00pm and shot to be asleep by 9:30pm. I also have a list of herb and suppliments to try and heal all the damage done. Said damage was caused by extended periods of time where my adrenal glands were on overdrive producing that "flight or flight" hormones. I have yet to stick to the no electronics by 9:00pm. I will say that I have really tried to focus on going to sleep earlier and not staying up late on Friday nights. 

I bought a activity tracker with a heart rate monitor. I did some research and found that if you have moderate to severe adrenal fatigue you should not allow your heart rate to go above 90 bpm until my adrenals recover. This means no running, no exercise that gets me sweating it seems. I've done two days of yoga and have yet to get on the yoga bandwagon but if it means I'll recover faster than I guess I can continue with it for a while. 

The Healing Process Begins (and it hurts)

This week I met with my counselor and we talked about the different types of abuse I suffered throughout my marriage. We talked about isolation, control and manipulation without me shedding a tear. 

I talked about how he was able to come off charming, funny and affectionate. That this is what I saw when we began dating. This is what others saw even at the time I left. He was so great at appearing like a gentlemen. One example I gave was an incident the fall before I left. It was raining out and we were walking outside. I had a small umbrella in my purse and a water resistant jacket on. He tried to squeeze under my umbrella but we both couldn't fit so I gave him the umbrella and took my coat off and used it as an umbrella. He got so mad and asked me (instead of yell because we were in public) "how does that make me look"? Instead he complained about getting soaked. He would give up his chair and opt to stand during business conferences sometimes but would be so grumpy and complain to me any opportunity he could. He cared more about what others thought instead of trying to be an actual knight in shinning armor for his wife, the one he vowed to love and cherish. 

When my counselor asked me about the physical abuse I began to tear up. She asked why I hadn't brought it up. I explained that I felt shameful about it. I had aspiration of being a police officer and yet I let a man treat me that way. I didn't feel like talking about it would really be that helpful because I knew it was wrong and that it wasn't my fault. That no matter what I said or did, I didn't deserve to be treated that way. She asked me to tell her about the ways he would physically abuse me. After I told her she began to cry and told me she was so sorry that it happened to me. We both sat crying for a minute (not like 10 seconds which can feel like a minute but literally at least an entire 60 seconds). She asked me how I feel about it today and admitted how angry I was with the police and my family situation. I didn't have a man to stand up for me because a woman reading his the proverbial riot act wouldn't have the same effect. 

As my counselling is biblical she talked about how God loved me and protected me even though men on earth (my father, the police etc) failed to do so. So my homework for these next two weeks was to read my bible (specifically verses about God's fatherly love) and to reach out to my friends and family (that I felt comfortable with) and ask them some questions. What did they see? What did they wish they had said? What did they say that I didn't hear? 

I asked my Mum these questions last night and somethings I remembered and others I didn't. I don't remember calling my Mum on many occasions during my dating relationship with him crying. When I stopped my Mum assumed that the issues had been resolved. Then she talked about the first time of physical violence and how she felt like she had failed my as a mother; that she taught me to put up with abuse. I assured her that she hadn't but truthfully, in a way she did. She failed to show me what a healthy relationship looked like. I certainly don't blame her for my abuse or for the cards that she was dealt in life. I just didn't have anyone around me that could model a healthy dating/ married relationship.

She talked about how she and my older sister noticed how I pulled away from them early on in my marriage and my younger sister felt abandoned and unloved because of this. Eventually I would call more often and be a little more open but would only call when I wasn't with him. How they began to suspect something was very wrong but had agreed to just love me and support me until I told them. My Mum came to visit "us" year two of the marriage to check up on me and find out what was really going on. I said "us" because he didn't make any effort to spend time with my Mum. The visit was basically with me. Initially my Mum thought that we had a good marriage and felt a sense of relief. After she left she began to realize that it was all a big front. She was well aware of abusers ability to put on the charm. She continued to love me and let me know she supported me. I can't imagine how hard this must of been for my family.  

I now have to ask my older sister and a few friends. This isn't going to be easy. At one point last night I froze up because of something my Mum said (which I can't even remember now) but it triggered the feeling I had when I had to have sex with him and I felt almost dirty. Pray for me, I need extra strength to ask others. The reason for these questions is to open the dialog with my support system and give them permission to call me out should they see any red-flags with future relationships (friendships or romantic relationships). I want to remind myself that these people love me and I should trust their judgement of others just as much as I trust myself.  

Binge Eating Myself Sick

I'm currently in an out of control binge eating spree. As I type, my stomach is so full it feels tight. Why am I doing this to myself you may wonder. Two reasons. The first is that I still worry about going hungry or not knowing what food will be left when I get home or wake up in the morning. Did he throw it away? Will he throw it at me? These are things my sub-conscious reminds me of. So I eat what I can when I can. Thing is, that was then and I'm in the here and now. He's not in my kitchen and hasn't been in many months. I never went "hungry" but many, many times I didn't have too much to take for lunch. Many times it was lentils with rice and a bit of seasoning. I would tuck those items on the top shelf of the food cupboard so he would either need to get a chair or jump up on the counter to throw those items away. 

The other reason which is a more recent issue is I'm struggling financially. Currently I have less than 10 dollars to my name until Friday. This doesn't factor in the $800 owing in my over draft and $2000 owing on my credit card. Months back I got a consolidation loan for all the debt racked up during my marriage to save my re-built credit score. My credit card and over draft were paid off with this and I've racked it back up. 

In my previous life (living with him), I would rush home from work and clean the house. Then I would make supper and do the dishes as I went. Even after eating supper I would immediately do the dishes and put them away. The less I left on the counter meant the less he had to throw at me if he had a fit. I rarely sat down. The only time I did was to talk to family and it was only before he got home or while I walked my dog so he wouldn't listen in and question me or accuse me of things once off the phone. On the days he didn't work I would make supper more often than not. Why the heck didn't he do all the things I did on days he worked? He was too busy going out and spending our money. Going for lunch, shopping for clothes, shopping for groceries we couldn't really afford. 

I look forward to every evening I have off. Once I've done a few things on my to-do-list and gone for a run I make a snack and relax on the couch. I relish in the down time I now have. I decide what I'm going to have earlier in the day and look forward to it. 

I used to be so controlling toward what I ate. Calculating to the gram how much protein, fat and carbs I planned on consuming that day. That was at my fittest point and thought I could replicate this again. How wrong I was. By telling myself I could only eat this much or eat healthy foods I set myself up to fail. I wasn't clinging to controlling my food as I did previously because I had control on other areas of my life. I wanted to lose 10 lbs and get down to what I was a few years ago when I first lost all the weight but I've realized this isn't a realistic goal in my life right now. So to solve my binge eating problem I've decided to stop tracking what I'm eating and thus not thinking about food in a scarcity mind set. Yes, I'd like to look fabulous in a bikini but at the rate I was going I was going to put on 10 lbs or develop a serious problem with food.

Isolation

Last week my CFO (and acting CEO I might add) was in the office from Toronto. She's a bully and calls everyone "dear" which I find demeaning. By Friday I was ready to slap her if she called me "dear" one more time. I was excited for her to leave but also had a feeling of dread. Last visit she hugged everyone goodbye(which I find inappropriate in the workplace). I tried to run some errand around the time I thought she would be leaving to avoid the situation but I misunderstood when she need to leave by vs what time she needed to be at the airport. 

She began hugging others goodbye (including the new guy) and I didn't want to be touched by her. She approached my desk and said she was going to give me a hug. I don't know where it came from but I said "no, that's ok". I then wished her a safe trip home and she was gone. The other staff couldn't believe I said no. I've been reading a lot about learning to say no and not feeling like I need to explain myself. I didn't explain myself to her and I didn't feel guilty about it. Afterwards the staff said they were proud of me and I explained to them that I don't like to be touched by people I don't know. So technically I did explain myself but not to the one I said no to so I call that progress. Yay me!

I've been waiting to hear back from my aunt who lives close by and I think I'll need to call her again tomorrow evening. I should also call my uncle this week some time. I worry that she might think (along with other family members on my fathers side) that I'm looking for money or help. What I'm actually looking for is further emotional support from family. I want to know my family and them to know me. While I'm not ready to even mention my upcoming divorce, I do want them to know other things about me. I want to have a strong family (and friends) so that I will stop attracting abusive men. 

I spent years slowly being isolated by him and I don't want that to carry on. Isolating is one of the many tactics of an abuser. They don't want others to tell you that there actions are wrong. They want total control over your world. Once they have more control they can then brush off their actions as normal or worse, your fault. 

I started thinking about this at the end of my run last night. I got over my fear of my old apartment and can resume running in my neighbourhood. As I ran past that apartment building I was wondering if I would run into my former neighbours. That got me thinking about how mad he would get if I stopped to talk to them while walking my dog before bed. I think partly because it would cut into time he would try and guilt me into sex. I didn't even realize until last night he was trying to isolate me from them too! He wanted TOTAL control. He would call me or text me frequently (it felt like constantly). He would stop by my work on his days off. The only places I was safe from him randomly appearing was at church and at my weekly church community group. No wonder I had perfect attendance! 

He accused my on more than one occasion of cheating. He figured that since I wasn't having sex with him very often that I must be getting it elsewhere. I couldn't believe he didn't trust me. Then again, guilty conscious may have been a contributing factor. At one point he accused me of having an affair with a girlfriend of mine because in his mind if I didn't want to have sex with him or be physically affectionate I must be attracted to women. Looking back I realize that this was an attempt to isolate me from her as well. We were newer friends and he didn't want anyone to influence me. And yet, when I would have a bout of more serious depression he would try and console me and encourage me to make more friends.