Relationship How Sufferers Feel After They've 'made A Mountain Out Of A Molehill'?

[scout86]

On some level, I get that what looks like a mountain, to me, in the moment, might actually look like a molehill to someone else and might, in fact, BE a molehill once the dust of my over reaction has settled. Then I usually feel like a complete idiot. (My T says no one can BE a complete idiot, but I'm not so sure.) BTW, feeling like a complete idiot is one of those things that leads me to want go hide in a hole somewhere for the greater good of the rest of the universe.

 

[Powder]

I second Enough's comment that survivors are seeing these relationship molehills as signs that, after all, we've suffered alone. This threatens the sense that there is any "meaning" to life, to suffering, to all of it. If the long-term relationship is, at its core, hollow, then it feeds the sense of isolation and hopelessness and meaninglessness of a life lived in PTSD.

Every time the "note falls under the fridge" in my marriage, how I will feel depends on how confident I feel at that moment. If my sense of security-attachment is at a low, I will see this as a sign that, once again, love is just another way for the universe to twist the knife in my back, and I must self-isolate to keep that knife from being accessible to anyone (trust noone).

In these catastrophizing moments, I perceive that my anguish is the result of his action, flaw, or insensitivity. Then I open my eyes to the fact that although these aspects of him can be the thing rocking the boat slightly, I can't lose sight of the real issue-- PTSD is the ocean causing the storm. All the worst of the waves keeping me in survival mode are not caused by my husband, who is mostly just helping me bail and sometimes accidentally moving the boat in a way that makes me nervous and even more overwhelmed.

I keep thinking that he can and should help row me to land, and I won't have to feel "at sea" anymore. This is denial, right? Like he can make it "go away." This belief is only there because he makes me so happy in life that sometimes I think his presence has actually "cured me." When I can't even see the land, I turn to him and lash out. In that moment I take him for granted and forget that he has forsaken the stability of bachelorhood and being a land-lubber to live at sea with me, a huge sacrifice on his part. He is forever helping bail me out when I'm up to my neck in anxiety. I should realize what's really going on here, but sometimes, I have nobody to share my rage with other than the last person in the world to deserve it--him. He can't save me. That's the whole point of things like PTSD; it's my cross to bear in life, and I should be grateful that someone is there to help me live it to my best ability.

I've failed at this so many times, and I always feel terrible and guilty and apologize when I see "I've done it again." And again. And again.

Meantime, others are not so lucky, and their supporter can't take any more. I'm afraid of this, and I keep working to reduce these over-reactions by trying to keep the boat as still as possible in the unpredictable ocean of life, and I try to keep us rowing together in the same goal and direction to act as a daily reminder we are pulling together in tandem as a team.

 

[scout86]

This is denial, right?

I think that's more like wishful thinking.

 

[Larksong]

Thank you all for the detailed responses. As a non-sufferer, this is one of the hardest things for me to wrap my mind around and empathize with, and you've all given me much better ways of understanding it. After reading all your responses, I'm able to relate much better emotionally to the fact that these little "molehill" incidents are a kind of kaleidoscope picture shifting around the core issues. It looks to me like, for many of you and for the man I love, those core things involve fear of abandonment and fear of being vulnerable, along with the need for trust, safety, connection, and the fear of those things too. I know my guy has a really hard time whenever he feels vulnerable and even fights against putting himself in situations where that could happen. I think he feels esp. vulnerable around me. He might even see me as a positive force in his life that can make things better, then when I don't things come crashing down for him, but I know there's no way anyone can make anyone else "better" from PTSD, just to "support."

My tendency is that I need to be reassured my loved one has positive feelings about me, so I quickly jump to, not arguing, but pointing out things to show him "the truth," assuming it will help him to hear it and put the matter to rest. I tend to be pretty logical about the way I take in information, even when I'm emotional, so my tendency is to assume other people also want it pointed out to them when they have incorrect information. "Look, I really didn't abandon you, here's the note!" or "Let me prove to you that I wasn't putting you down or belittling you, you said this and I said that and I thought we were joking, I was just trying to say something cute. See how you took what I said out of context?" Then I'm thinking, "this must be a relief for him to know that," and I'm ready to move on and forget about it. But I learned elsewhere on this forum "feelings are facts" when someone has PTSD, which is another thing that's hard for me to get. What @Muse wrote above, that people are not as logical as we think we are, was really helpful. So what I have to do is try to reach that not logical part.

It sounds like I'm much better off just letting these things go and working on increasing his sense of safety and trust with me. I feel very blessed that so many people struggling with issues I'm just beginning to deal with took time to help me see things better.

 

[Sighs]

I have found with my sufferer that bringing things up again just triggers his stress cup all over again. This can be very hard for me because, like @Larksong, I want to have a calm rational discussion and "clear up the misunderstanding". I'm learning to let sleeping dogs lie.

 

[scout86]

I think he feels esp. vulnerable around me.

I'm as sure as I can be that that's exactly right. It makes perfect sense to me and seems pretty obvious. I'm honestly wondering, is this NOT the way a "normal person's" brain works? Because maybe it's not and it would be really useful to know that.

One of my favorite quotes is from Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. I may not get it exactly right, but he said "The man is most truly free who has nothing left to lose." People can hurt you. The more important you let them become, the more they can hurt you and the worse they can hurt you. Let people get close to you and you give up a measure of that freedom. That safety. You now have something to lose. Maybe this is where some of what gets called that "push/pull" thing comes from. It's hard to balance the "risk" of involvement with the "safety" of isolation.

 

[Larksong]

@scout86 That was incredibly helpful too. I get the quote about being truly free when you have nothing left to lose and it sounds like my guy. Over half a dozen at least push/pull episodes over 2 years, it's either "you're the best thing I've ever had in my life, let's be together forever" or "I can't be in a relationship with anyone ever, it's impossible and it will end badly with us so I have to call it off now while we still can. Sorry, have a nice life." Always after we've reached some kind of milestone in closeness or communication with each other.

I'm honestly wondering, is this NOT the way a "normal person's" brain works? Because maybe it's not and it would be really useful to know that.

So I'll try to help with that, since you've been so much help to me. I can't say I'm a "normal" person or what a "normal" brain acts like. I also don't know that I'd describe someone with PTSD as not behaving "normally." At this state of my knowledge, PTSD seems like a response to trauma programmed into all of us to be helpful and adaptive, that has gone haywire and lasts too long and too strong for some people, maybe people who are esp. sensitive (vulnerable?) to their environments to begin with. I'm not in any way trying to minimize the constant, lifelong struggle that is PTSD, just hoping to share where my thinking is in case it opens up a new perspective for someone.

That being said, I as an individual am probably way far to one end of the spectrum in that I really do seem to process things logically and calmly as a default, even when I feel vulnerable. To me, feelings aren't facts, and if I learn a new fact, it often alters a feeling right away. If I feel threatened or insecure, I can always fumble around in my emotions and find some anchor of stability to steady me. I was very lucky that my sister and I were raised with tons of unconditional family love and support, so I've always drawn on that as an adult and had a generally positive feeling that, even when things got very bad, the world was basically going to treat me with kindness and everything would ultimately be ok. You might say my stress cup is pretty deep or hasn't ever truly overflowed.

So being vulnerable for me isn't a cataclysmic, terrifying thing. Sometimes I'm uncomfortable with it to some degree, but it's not a dealbreaker or something that I feel I need to run from at any cost. It doesn't preoccupy me or rend me apart at any deep level. So you might say people like me are lucky enough to have enough of a cushion built up at the right time to protect their basic sense of security when they need to draw on it. I realize more and more how rare that really is, and how just because someone else hasn't had that, it doesn't mean they aren't strong or can't develop the ability to cope and succeed--their responses are just as "normal" as mine based on the input that's gone into their lives. It's just that they didn't get the same head start on building up the emotional reserves required before they had to deal with life-changing stress/trauma. And of course there are things people with PTSD have experienced that no amount of "cushion" could help any of us deal with. It may be the luck of the draw: I've had enough cushion to deal with the particular things that have come my way, others didn't for the particular things that have come their way, and still others had so much stuff coming at them that a cushion to deal with it hasn't yet been invented. We all use the tools we've gathered up to whatever point we've reached in the game to fight whatever saber tooth attacks us, and sometimes there just aren't enough tools for anyone. Then we have to learn to live with the battle scars in a new way, which itself is a lifelong quest.

So I'll try to describe what I as a non-sufferer feel when I start feeling vulnerable, knowing it may likely sound completely nuts to people on the other side of the spectrum: "I'm feeling esp. vulnerable in this situation. Hmmm, if I stop to think about it, that feels kind of strange and uncertain and maybe a little scary. What's going to happen to me here? Will I lose, will someone not like me after all, will something unforeseen happen? Ok if I really keep thinking like that, more possibilities for it going wrong are now popping up. But wait: I realize thinking like that doesn't feel good, and I know on a very somatic, visceral level I'm meant to feel good, so therefore all that worrying can't be right, it doesn't make logical sense. I'll see my way out of this and I'm sure it will be alright in the end. It's definitely not worth worrying about when compared to all the plusses of loving someone, taking a risk for something that will help me, or getting enjoyment out of something etc. I'm just going to dismiss that feeling of being vulnerable if it's going to cause me to lose out on something.There: It's gone." Now, this might take a few seconds, it might take much longer, but the end is the same for me. So if you want to know what a supposedly "normal" person feels like dealing with vulnerability, that's one response. I imagine most people, PTSD or not, lie somewhere between me and my guy, for whom vulnerability seems to be a heartrending, insurmountable source of stress, one I'm trying to give every ounce of empathy to understanding.

I also think that, even though PTSD is a serious lifelong issue that sufferers definitely can't just snap out of, any of us can start where we are and build up our emotional reserves even in small ways that open up new possibilities to cope and be happy. I know that's not easy, but I can't help believing that we as humans are as hard-wired for that as we are to develop PTSD--science just hasn't given us the definitive techniques for doing it yet, or for fully dealing with PTSD. I respect the struggle so much, even knowing as little as I do, so please forgive me if I've said something that strikes someone as wrong. This is where I'm at in my understanding right now and maybe it will help someone see something new.

 

[scout86]

I really like that last paragraph and pretty much agree with it.
THIS...... I'm not even sure what to say!

But wait: I realize thinking like that doesn't feel good, and I know on a very somatic, visceral level I'm meant to feel good, so therefore all that worrying can't be right,

First, I don't think you're making that up. It absolutely never would have occurred to me that I was meant to feel good. And that honestly seems like such a bizarre idea that I'm not sure what to do with it. (So I'm going to consider the possibility.) To ME, I recognize that "feeling like that doesn't feel good" and it tells me that it's time to get out of Dodge 'cause somthin' bad is fixin' to happen.

It never really occurred to me that I was "designed" to feel anything, much less "good". Feelings are warnings, alarm bells, or "wrong",

Interesting! Thanks for answering the question!

 

[user27357]

@Larksong You are obviously going to put a lot of effort into this and I admire that. I wouldn't expect it from a supporter and any of us that suffer would be lucky to have such a motivated partner.

I too pride myself on use of logic and rhetoric and clear communication as tools for problem solving, it is kind of my job in fact.

But I will warn you that while I am in the throws of a triggered event, no logic will sway me from a decision I have made regarding a perceived threat. Once I see a danger (a bad driver, a coworker looking for vengeance, a public drunk, a wife that is showing me signs of lack of concern) I divide people into two categories: Those that are solving the problem and those that are standing in the way.

As an ex EMT, I have a strong reaction to bad driving. After a close call in traffic my adrenaline level is easily as high as it would be had someone leveled a shot gun on my throat (I sadly know what that is like also) I feel like I narrowly missed an attack with a deadly weapon because I have seen the deadly side of bad driving too many times in my life. My wife knows I will pull over and calm down before I venture back into traffic, she knows I might vent a little, maybe swear a bit, maybe rant about the idiots on the road awhile.

But she also knows that if she tries to tell me to calm down or tell me that it wasn't that close a call or that I am overreacting I will see her as part of the danger and confront her as such. Thats how it works, when triggered I see everything as a move towards safety or an obstacle in my path.

I warn you to resist the urge to do anything that will make you appear to be an obstacle to the problem solving, it can be difficult to know how to help in a way that doesn't involve trying to alter a strong reaction to a trigger. Thats going to be your biggest challenge in a relationship with a PTSD sufferer.

 

[Larksong]

@enough Thank you for that honesty! You sound a lot like my guy in fact--you could have been describing some of his reactions exactly and I'm taking your words to heart. I don't want it to sound like I'm a rainbows & unicorns type of person who is determinedly perky and always trying to "help." I really understand that usually the best response is literally "compassion:" being "with" someone, in silence or in whatever way they need me to be so that they know I care, rather than trying to fix something about them or convince them to share my view of reality.

You've helped a lot. My original concern was whether it could ever be helpful to him or to me to bring up these "molehill" things where I'll always wonder if he really does see me as somehow unsupportive or abandoning and demonstrate to him conclusively that he's wrong, wrong, wrong and then make myself feel better! I think through this discussion I've take to heart the fact that there will always be those incidents as long as I'm with him, so it would be like bailing a boat with too many leaks. I'll just have to accept that if we ever get back together, these things will happen and I need to look at deeper things like increasing his sense of security with me rather than constantly trying to swat down every "mountain" he builds up. I've never even been able to anticipate which things are going to become "mountains" anyway. I guess that's what you mean by telling me to avoid "trying to alter a strong reaction to a trigger." I'm taking that very much to heart. I'm learning that PTSD is what it is and has a will of its own.

no logic will sway me from a decision I have made regarding a perceived threat.

That sounds exactly like my guy when he's grabbed on to one of these "molehills" as a way of saying why he can't be with me.

My strategy going forward maybe should be to respond to whatever of these things comes up as calmly as possible and just say something like "I love you and I know you're upset so I'll give you some space. I'm here if you need me." To me as a non-sufferer, that sounds so bland and unconstructive but I'm really beginning to see how it could sound helpful from the sufferer's point of view.

@scout86 Your response helped me understand the other side of things, so thanks! And yes that's really the way the world looks to me. Not to say that it's right, but I do have the advantage of going through life relatively untroubled by when I feel vulnerable. There are people who would say that's dangerously naive and I'm beginning to empathize more with that. It's to me like the philosopher's wager, where he said he would wager God exists. I feel like it isn't hurting me or anyone else to wager that the universe wants me to feel good and have good things happen to me, so I may as well choose that over the alternative. If there's anything useful in that to you, I'm glad. :)

 

[Purplemunchkin]

My strategy going forward maybe should be to respond to whatever of these things comes up as calmly as possible and just say something like "I love you and I know you're upset so I'll give you some space. I'm here if you need me." To me as a non-sufferer, that sounds so bland and unconstructive but I'm really beginning to see how it could sound helpful from the sufferer's point of view.

It isn't always easy to do, but this method has definitely made the difference in our relationship.

Not just to give him time to calm down, but also to help me regroup. If hubby shouts at me I often do take it personally, but by removing myself I can apply the logic too.

I have also witnessed what happens when someone shouts back. We lived with hubby's parents and one evening after a normal, even nice, day for most but really stressful day for him I could see him zoning out over dinner.

Long story short; he excused himself to get some space, but his Mum followed to 'tell him off' for acting oddly and the shouting started. That night ended with him in a psychiatric unit for a two week stay.