JEKBreatheandBelieve
Diamond Member
Right now there is blaring music outside. It's coming from a party outside a house up the street. Seriously, why do these people or other people around me keep throwing parties. I do not live in a neighborhood where I expected this to happen. And every party is followed by fireworks.
I was feeling anxious before I came home tonight. When I got home, my son was refusing to go to bed. My husband was just ignoring him. As soon as I got home, my son attached to me. So I had a shadow, was tired, anxious, and then the loud music started.
Finally thought I got my son to bed and he popped up again. Got him to go back to bed and he stayed for a little while. I was getting more triggered by the music and really wanted to know where it was coming from and to not be alone. My husband was in the basement 2 floors down so not easily accessible unless I broke my promise to my son and left my room. So I stayed.
That was the wrong choice. My son came back. He would not go to bed. He kept badgering me asking "Are you leaving the house?" and "Are you staying in your room?" I lost it. I felt like I was drowning. I needed help and there was no back up. There was screaming and yelling and I have no idea what I said. I ran from the room and heard him crying behind me. I screamed for my husband who went up to deal with my son.
I went to the garage, though I really wanted to open the door and just run away. Run as far away from this reality as I could. Unfortunately, I am afraid of the dark and the loud music that is out in the dark, so I stayed put. I cried and cried until I finally went in. I am surprised that I was crying.
I told my husband what had happened in as much detail as I could remember and ended by saying that I am a horrible person (and I mean that). He responded a bit and then had to go put my son back in bed...twice. More crying on my part. Then, my husband asks about whether my son has PTSD. Um, no, he's just a normal kid going through an I don't want to go to bed stage and perhaps is a little afraid for some reason we haven't figured out yet. Sometimes I wonder about what my husband is thinking. That was the extent of our conversation.
I came up stairs, still angry and overwhelmed. I switched parts, cut, threw up, and came back when I sat down at my computer. I know I am a horrible person for yelling at my son that way and I know that I am probably doing horrible damage to him. But it sure would have been nice to hear, "You aren't a horrible person" as one of the reactions from my husband.
I just wish that I could have a tiny break from the triggers and anxiety. Maybe feel a little normal...just a little...for just a little while...
I was feeling anxious before I came home tonight. When I got home, my son was refusing to go to bed. My husband was just ignoring him. As soon as I got home, my son attached to me. So I had a shadow, was tired, anxious, and then the loud music started.
Finally thought I got my son to bed and he popped up again. Got him to go back to bed and he stayed for a little while. I was getting more triggered by the music and really wanted to know where it was coming from and to not be alone. My husband was in the basement 2 floors down so not easily accessible unless I broke my promise to my son and left my room. So I stayed.
That was the wrong choice. My son came back. He would not go to bed. He kept badgering me asking "Are you leaving the house?" and "Are you staying in your room?" I lost it. I felt like I was drowning. I needed help and there was no back up. There was screaming and yelling and I have no idea what I said. I ran from the room and heard him crying behind me. I screamed for my husband who went up to deal with my son.
I went to the garage, though I really wanted to open the door and just run away. Run as far away from this reality as I could. Unfortunately, I am afraid of the dark and the loud music that is out in the dark, so I stayed put. I cried and cried until I finally went in. I am surprised that I was crying.
I told my husband what had happened in as much detail as I could remember and ended by saying that I am a horrible person (and I mean that). He responded a bit and then had to go put my son back in bed...twice. More crying on my part. Then, my husband asks about whether my son has PTSD. Um, no, he's just a normal kid going through an I don't want to go to bed stage and perhaps is a little afraid for some reason we haven't figured out yet. Sometimes I wonder about what my husband is thinking. That was the extent of our conversation.
I came up stairs, still angry and overwhelmed. I switched parts, cut, threw up, and came back when I sat down at my computer. I know I am a horrible person for yelling at my son that way and I know that I am probably doing horrible damage to him. But it sure would have been nice to hear, "You aren't a horrible person" as one of the reactions from my husband.
I just wish that I could have a tiny break from the triggers and anxiety. Maybe feel a little normal...just a little...for just a little while...
