For the past six weeks I have been really struggling. I was sexually abused by a family member as a child but was only really hit with the full truth of it after something happened six weeks ago that triggered a lot of memories. Initially I got very depressed and barely got out of bed for a couple of weeks. I took annual leave at work until my husband got so worried about me that he arranged for my family doctor to come to the house. The doctor visited a few times before the Christmas holidays and I told him about the abuse and how I was feeling. The depression seemed to lift a bit but I began to have periods of memory loss, terrifying flashbacks, panic attacks and had gone from sleeping all day long to barely sleeping at all. I felt scared and anxious all the time. My doctor suggested that I may have delayed onset PTSD and signed me off work.
I was very reluctant to speak to anyone else and begged my doctor to let me try to "self help" instead. My parents had taken me to see a psychiatrist at the time the abuse was going on because it must have been obvious that something was wrong. But I had not revealed what was happening and got labelled as "possibly schizoid" instead of a victim of abuse (I don't think I was meant to have heard that). I think I lost trust in psychiatrists at a very young age as a result of that. So, my doctor agreed to give me a little while to see what I could do for myself (and a prescription for diazepam which I took for a week to help my anxiety).
I read as much as I could and tried so many different techniques for managing the symptoms. Slowly, I began to feel less overwhelmed and even gained the confidence to leave the house to take my dogs for short walks with my husband.
However, things were still far from perfect. I would have panic attacks most days and was still getting flashbacks and remembering long-forgotten aspects of the abuse which upset me. However, I was coping with it better. Now that I was not totally preoccupied with thinking about what had happened at every moment of every day I began to feel awful for what I was putting my husband through. I had tried to explain as much as I could and he has been amazingly supportive, but doesn't really understand. He often told me that he wants me to get professional help but I am still resisting it. I'm not saying it's no help for anyone, but I don't believe it will help me.
Two days before Christmas I had a horrible flashback and ended up lashing out at what I was seeing. My husband had been standing in front of me and I hit him several times. When I came out if it I thought I had broken my wrist from banging my hands on the floor and my husband took me to hospital. Luckily it wasn't broken, but it frightened me that I had been so out of control.
We talked about what had happened and I tried to make him understand that it hadn't been him I was hitting. However, I still felt so ashamed of myself. He is a big, strong man and I am tiny compared to him, but he was still frightened of me and told me that he was scared that I would attack him in his sleep and kill him. That devastated me. I am not a violent person at all.
Fast forward to New Year's Eve and I had been doing a little better, for the most part. I told him to go out with friends and have a good time for a few hours. I knew he needed some time away from me and needed to have some fun back in his life. Of course, I didn't really want him to leave me alone so I was very pleased when he told me later in the evening that he wouldn't go out. We had a few drinks together and it got close to midnight. I was trying so hard to be "normal" but had been feeling really jittery all day. He was clearly angry and resentful at having to stay at home and miss all the parties but was doing his best to hide it.
At ten minutes to midnight he suddenly said he wanted to go out after all and needed my blessing. I got angry and upset, because I had been telling him to go out all day. With just ten minutes to the bells he started making me feel horrible for not letting him go out and I burst into tears. We had both had a few drinks by then and he was letting out all his frustrations that had been building up for the last six weeks. I didn't blame him, after what I have put him through, but I wasn't strong enough to hear it. We saw in the New Year with me crying my eyes out.
After about half an hour I had calmed down a bit, but he was still angry. He was also quite drunk. Suddenly he went into an angry rant that seemed to go on forever and affected me so badly that I stopped crying, stopped shaking, just stared at him in a stunned silence. I don't think I was even breathing. Everything he was saying made me feel so shameful, so guilty. I was just a horrible person who is making his life a misery. And then this overwhelming memory of being a child who was so disgusting that she deserved the vile abuse rushed back.
That was when I hit him again. Three or four times I rushed at him, trying to punch him, hurt him. All the emotions I had been struggling to deal with for such a long time just exploded. I was like a crazed animal. He pinned me to the sofa until I calmed down but when he let me up I went for him again. I was out of control. This time it was definitely him I was hitting and I have no excuse.
Shocked and horrified at what I had done, I ran out of the house, up the street and hid behind some garages until I calmed down enough to go home. He was sitting with his head in his hands in utter despair when I got back.
We talked a bit for the next couple of hours, but mostly I just cried and begged him to forgive me. He kept drinking and told me very frankly how the last six weeks have affected him. He didn't want to hear my side anymore. He said that he doesn't care anymore and he can't cope with it and has often wished he would have a heart attack or get cancer (he has taken up smoking again) or die naturally somehow that wouldn't be suicide. He said that he still loves me, and will stay with me but he doesn't trust me anymore after I attacked him again. I just didn't know what to say. I was so ashamed. Devastated.
After a while I noticed his wedding ring lying on a table and ran to pick it up. He said I had torn it off his finger and broken his necklace which was also lying on the table. I have no memory of doing that. I know I hit him, but I don't remember pulling his wedding ring off or breaking his necklace. That made me feel even worse.
He asked at one point what I would do if I was him. That is to say, if I was a battered wife. That shocked me. Up until then I hadn't thought about what I had done in those terms. To me, it had been part of the PTSD. But he was right. Hitting is hitting, no matter what the reasons for it are. If I had been him, would I have called the police? Should he have done? I don't know.
The whole time we were talking he flinched every time I moved and when we finally came to bed he wouldn't let me touch him at all. We lay stiffly side by side all night and neither of us slept hardly at all.
Now it's the next day and I don't know what to do. I am in pieces. I feel so guilty for having done this to him. I just don't know how we will get through this. I was aware of the effect my behaviour over the past six weeks has been having on him, I just wasn't strong enough to deal with it. I think I was just hoping that he was strong enough to cope with his own feelings and would still be there for me when I got better. Now I am scared that he won't.
We haven't spoken a word to each other today. I don't know where to begin. I can't promise I'll never hit him again. I hope I won't, more than anything, but I can't promise. What if I get angry again? What if I have another flashback or a nightmare and attack him in his sleep, like he fears? What if I really do hurt him? I have already apologised a thousand times and I will keep on apologising but those words don't change what happened.
Can anyone relate to any of this? I feel like the worst person in the world right now. Please help.
I was very reluctant to speak to anyone else and begged my doctor to let me try to "self help" instead. My parents had taken me to see a psychiatrist at the time the abuse was going on because it must have been obvious that something was wrong. But I had not revealed what was happening and got labelled as "possibly schizoid" instead of a victim of abuse (I don't think I was meant to have heard that). I think I lost trust in psychiatrists at a very young age as a result of that. So, my doctor agreed to give me a little while to see what I could do for myself (and a prescription for diazepam which I took for a week to help my anxiety).
I read as much as I could and tried so many different techniques for managing the symptoms. Slowly, I began to feel less overwhelmed and even gained the confidence to leave the house to take my dogs for short walks with my husband.
However, things were still far from perfect. I would have panic attacks most days and was still getting flashbacks and remembering long-forgotten aspects of the abuse which upset me. However, I was coping with it better. Now that I was not totally preoccupied with thinking about what had happened at every moment of every day I began to feel awful for what I was putting my husband through. I had tried to explain as much as I could and he has been amazingly supportive, but doesn't really understand. He often told me that he wants me to get professional help but I am still resisting it. I'm not saying it's no help for anyone, but I don't believe it will help me.
Two days before Christmas I had a horrible flashback and ended up lashing out at what I was seeing. My husband had been standing in front of me and I hit him several times. When I came out if it I thought I had broken my wrist from banging my hands on the floor and my husband took me to hospital. Luckily it wasn't broken, but it frightened me that I had been so out of control.
We talked about what had happened and I tried to make him understand that it hadn't been him I was hitting. However, I still felt so ashamed of myself. He is a big, strong man and I am tiny compared to him, but he was still frightened of me and told me that he was scared that I would attack him in his sleep and kill him. That devastated me. I am not a violent person at all.
Fast forward to New Year's Eve and I had been doing a little better, for the most part. I told him to go out with friends and have a good time for a few hours. I knew he needed some time away from me and needed to have some fun back in his life. Of course, I didn't really want him to leave me alone so I was very pleased when he told me later in the evening that he wouldn't go out. We had a few drinks together and it got close to midnight. I was trying so hard to be "normal" but had been feeling really jittery all day. He was clearly angry and resentful at having to stay at home and miss all the parties but was doing his best to hide it.
At ten minutes to midnight he suddenly said he wanted to go out after all and needed my blessing. I got angry and upset, because I had been telling him to go out all day. With just ten minutes to the bells he started making me feel horrible for not letting him go out and I burst into tears. We had both had a few drinks by then and he was letting out all his frustrations that had been building up for the last six weeks. I didn't blame him, after what I have put him through, but I wasn't strong enough to hear it. We saw in the New Year with me crying my eyes out.
After about half an hour I had calmed down a bit, but he was still angry. He was also quite drunk. Suddenly he went into an angry rant that seemed to go on forever and affected me so badly that I stopped crying, stopped shaking, just stared at him in a stunned silence. I don't think I was even breathing. Everything he was saying made me feel so shameful, so guilty. I was just a horrible person who is making his life a misery. And then this overwhelming memory of being a child who was so disgusting that she deserved the vile abuse rushed back.
That was when I hit him again. Three or four times I rushed at him, trying to punch him, hurt him. All the emotions I had been struggling to deal with for such a long time just exploded. I was like a crazed animal. He pinned me to the sofa until I calmed down but when he let me up I went for him again. I was out of control. This time it was definitely him I was hitting and I have no excuse.
Shocked and horrified at what I had done, I ran out of the house, up the street and hid behind some garages until I calmed down enough to go home. He was sitting with his head in his hands in utter despair when I got back.
We talked a bit for the next couple of hours, but mostly I just cried and begged him to forgive me. He kept drinking and told me very frankly how the last six weeks have affected him. He didn't want to hear my side anymore. He said that he doesn't care anymore and he can't cope with it and has often wished he would have a heart attack or get cancer (he has taken up smoking again) or die naturally somehow that wouldn't be suicide. He said that he still loves me, and will stay with me but he doesn't trust me anymore after I attacked him again. I just didn't know what to say. I was so ashamed. Devastated.
After a while I noticed his wedding ring lying on a table and ran to pick it up. He said I had torn it off his finger and broken his necklace which was also lying on the table. I have no memory of doing that. I know I hit him, but I don't remember pulling his wedding ring off or breaking his necklace. That made me feel even worse.
He asked at one point what I would do if I was him. That is to say, if I was a battered wife. That shocked me. Up until then I hadn't thought about what I had done in those terms. To me, it had been part of the PTSD. But he was right. Hitting is hitting, no matter what the reasons for it are. If I had been him, would I have called the police? Should he have done? I don't know.
The whole time we were talking he flinched every time I moved and when we finally came to bed he wouldn't let me touch him at all. We lay stiffly side by side all night and neither of us slept hardly at all.
Now it's the next day and I don't know what to do. I am in pieces. I feel so guilty for having done this to him. I just don't know how we will get through this. I was aware of the effect my behaviour over the past six weeks has been having on him, I just wasn't strong enough to deal with it. I think I was just hoping that he was strong enough to cope with his own feelings and would still be there for me when I got better. Now I am scared that he won't.
We haven't spoken a word to each other today. I don't know where to begin. I can't promise I'll never hit him again. I hope I won't, more than anything, but I can't promise. What if I get angry again? What if I have another flashback or a nightmare and attack him in his sleep, like he fears? What if I really do hurt him? I have already apologised a thousand times and I will keep on apologising but those words don't change what happened.
Can anyone relate to any of this? I feel like the worst person in the world right now. Please help.