Friday
Moderator
Most of my trauma history involved other people... & all of that involved laughter. Dark humour? Certainly. Gallows humour? Definitely. If I’d have linked up with DV support groups when I left my exhusband maybe I’d have laughed with other parents/spouses about the brutal times, but I didn’t.
So fairly out of the blue about a week ago I heard a comment that had me doubled over, wiping tears from my eyes, just LAUGHING about my f*cked up marriage.
“Why get married? Just find a woman you hate, and buy her a house.”
When I can laugh at a thing? No matter how hard it is, I know I’m going to be okay.
And I realized... this is the one part of my trauma history I was totally alone for. There was no one to laugh about the f*cked up shit, with.
There might not be anyone here wanting to laugh about those things with me... but I figured I might as well give a shout out. f*cked up bullshit, funny as f*ck. Welcome here.
I didn’t qualify for the DV Shelters & Support Networks in my area, because being afraid of your partner was a no exceptions requirement. I remember being on the phone with a really frustrated intake worker where after they told me that they couldn’t help me, maybe couples counseling would be more up my alley... “So it doesn’t matter that he’s tried to kill me twice this week, 3 times this year including strangling me and fracturing my skull, after throwing me down a flight of stairs in a leg brace, from when he pushed me into 4 lanes of traffic with a speed limit of 40mph... and has put our son in the PICU at Children’s, and is not only breaking into our house himself with his stupid friends, but has listed our address online for random perverts and f*cksticks and psychoretards to vandalise and assault us at their goddamn leisure, so I’m sleeping on the stairs with a freaking shotgun...Because I’m not AFRAID of the bastard, you can’t help me???” <cough> Hence the “frustrated” intake worker. First for thinking I was being some whiner, and then for refusing to say I was afraid so they could intake my son & I, and do the whole protected exit out of state pronto thing. In retrospect I “should” have just said I was afraid. I wasn’t afraid. I was angry. And there was no way I could “pretend” to be afraid. For many reasons. One, I get hyper-honest under stress, and two, there was no way in hell I was giving the bastard that. He could TRY and scare me, but he didn’t. He disgusted me & infuriated me & shamed me & hurt me... but he didn’t frighten me.
So fairly out of the blue about a week ago I heard a comment that had me doubled over, wiping tears from my eyes, just LAUGHING about my f*cked up marriage.
“Why get married? Just find a woman you hate, and buy her a house.”
When I can laugh at a thing? No matter how hard it is, I know I’m going to be okay.
And I realized... this is the one part of my trauma history I was totally alone for. There was no one to laugh about the f*cked up shit, with.
There might not be anyone here wanting to laugh about those things with me... but I figured I might as well give a shout out. f*cked up bullshit, funny as f*ck. Welcome here.