Yesterday was loaded with tensions between Jedi and I because he’s gotten a little too big for his britches and doesn’t understand that the only reason he has britches, is because of me. I generally find being more adaptable than rigid is the way to go with teenagers. For the most part, it works, but other times they can push the few inches I give for miles and before we know it, lines of respect have been crossed and I have to put my foot down.
Raising a man is a hard line to walk as a single mother. I’m aware of the fact that he is technically the man of the house and do not wish to be emasculating, but in most ways he is not even close. The responsibilities and sacrifices aren’t there, but you can be certain the ego is.
For the most part, he was apologetic and accountable, but there was that small piece where he 1. Wouldn’t accept ‘no’ as an answer; and 2.Raised his voice to me. Something about it made me flashback to another time and place…another person. Fight or flight kicked on and it really took every logical piece of my brain to walk away.
A couple hours later, after having a really heart-warming moment with Diva and Bean, I got cold sitting outside and had to retire for the evening. I went to bed with a smile across my heart. Guard down….
BAM! Out of nowhere I feel a touch on my skin that I don’t recognize and become guarded. A smell penetrates my memory and I’m left feeling like vulnerable prey. Everything in my body is on high alert. I want to scream, claw, run. I don’t know what I said out loud , but the only words that I could grasp and utter was “logically”. I was half in the present, but also dissociative. Logically, I knew I was in a safe space with someone who would do just about anything to ensure it, but my memory was somewhere, with someone who was attempting to forget his pain by exerting his power to create mine.
I could not be more thankful for Bean’s gentle affirmations and quiet assurance once he recognized the fear in my eyes. Being even pseudo-rejected for something that he would never do, could not have been easy. He let me gather my composure, tucked me in and held on to me with both arms, reminding me that he loved and respected me. He heard me. He had me.
I laid there most of the night worrying that I had just revealed too much crazy behind the curtain. I wondered if this was why the men who came before him had retreated and then I cried wondering what impact this would have on him.
I can’t be sure if what had happened early with Jedi had stirred this perfect storm of trauma. Bean saw it as a growth experience for us, risk management.
Only thing I can be sure of is that PTSD is a bitch and I’m emotionally drained.