The Internet: It's Sort of Like Group Therapy
May 13, 2006
I just woke up from a nightmare. A nightmare that left me emotionally drained and crying. Not just crying - weeping. Tears streaming down my face. Hiccups. Verbal gasps for breath. Nose running. Headache. Entire body trembling. Vomitous convulsions. That type of crying.
I just took two Tylenol PM, though I'm not sure why I want to go back to sleep after that, and my head aches as if I've got a clamp holding my skull together. Right now, the entire left side of my nose is clogged. Silent tears are still streaming down my face, though the shaking and the verbal gasping have subsided.
Simply put, I dreamt that Roger had decided to leave me. He brought home a new "girlfriend" - into our home - where she met his parents, who happened to be visiting us. She looked normal. She looked like someone with whom I would have been friends. It would have been easier, maybe, if she was a prostitute. If she had no teeth and was a drug addict, perhaps. Or maybe that would have made it harder because that was better than marriage to me?
Roger had found someone who was thin and athletic. She seemed secure, joyful, intelligent. She wasn't bringing mounds of school debt into their relationship. She didn't have baggage from her traumatic past. She was everything I wasn't.
I think my fear of abandonment first began when my dad left my mom. I remember that day so vividly. My brother (Josh) and I were playing inside. Or, we were older - so maybe we were just "hanging out" inside. My mom burst into the house, flew through the kitchen, and shut the door to her bedroom. She was sobbing. Josh and I were alarmed because my mom rarely cried, particularly in the middle of the day, without good reason.
Knowing something was terribly wrong, we devised a plan to figure out why she was crying (without bombarding her). He was older, and a boy (this reasoning made sense to us at the time), so he would gently knock on the bedroom door and ask her what was wrong. I would listen through the ventilation system.
Everything went as planned until I heard my mom utter, "Your dad wants a divorce." At that time, she and dad had been married more than twenty years. I could not possibly explain (in one word) what I heard in her voice. She was crying, so the sentence was broken in sections. There was fear. Anxiety. Uncertainty. Disbelief. Alarm. Astonishment.
The moment she spoke those words, my life fell apart. I leapt up and ran out of my room. But, where would I go? In a split second I rationalized that my mom didn't know that I knew, so I couldn't act differently. I chose to plop myself in front of the television and turn it on because that would have been "normal" behavior.
I heard someone coming and I began laughing, trying to appear as though whatever I just saw on television was sooooo funny that I Can't Help Myelf. Must laugh out loud! Laughing because I felt the need to pretend everything was okay. Laughing because I didn't know what else to do with myself. Just laughing.
My brother rounded the corner and paused on the steps, staring at me. Our eyes met, and in that moment I knew that he knew that I had heard what she said. I remember that in that moment, the look he gave me spoke volumes. And most loudly, "You bitch. How can you laugh at a time like this?" Or perhaps that is what I thought about myself. He ran out the door, slamming it behind him.
I exhaled, looked back at the TV, and turned it off. He was right. Laughing couldn't mask my pain. My life changed in that moment that I stooped by the vent, listening. After that, I hated the vent. The secrets it held were too agonizing.
I carried that memory, that fear of abandonment, into my marriage. This isn't the first nightmare I've had about being abandoned, and I doubt it will be the last. By far, it was the worst.
It was vivid. It was real. And, God: I never want to have to go through that. I never again want to feel what I felt that summer I first learned that my parents were divorcing. I never want to feel what I felt in my dream.
I wanted to die. I think dying would have been so much simpler for me than living through the hell and pain of my husband leaving me for another woman. Tonight, I beheld a small glimpse of the pain my mother must have felt. It grieves me that she (or anyone) ever had to experience that.
I woke up sobbing and ran to find Roger watching theatrical trailers on the computer. So innocent, so sweet, so oblivious to the horror that transpired while I was sleeping.
He saw my body trembling, he heard me crying. He embraced me, and I found that perfect groove near his collar bone, where God designed my head to fit perfectly on his chest.
I am so thankful for his sensitivity toward me. I am so thankful for his love for me, his integrity, his reassuring words.
Still, I don't want to go back to sleep. I don't want to ever feel that pain again.
Comments
Babe,
With God's help, I will never ever leave you. Through thick and thin, I'm yours for life. I love you.
Posted by: Roger | May 13, 2006 02:27 PM
This made me cry. And Roger's comment made me cry more.
My dad left my mom when I was a little girl, and to this day, I still have nightmares about being abandoned. I had one last night, where my husband announced to our Bible study that he was leaving me and it was the first I'd heard. Especially during my pregnancy, when I felt vulnerable and kind of alone, I'd have nightmares about him leaving me or cheating on me almost nightly. So I understand the despair and the strong feelings those dreams can cause.
But in the end, we are lucky to have such wonderful men to support us and hold us when we're hysterical and sad after nights like this.
Posted by: girl from florida | May 13, 2006 03:10 PM
I have had those same dreams about my husband and the crazy thing is the dreams feel so real that I wake up really angry and sad...as if I was really feeling it happen to me. Those are the worst dreams, er, nightmares!
Posted by: Faith in Florida | May 13, 2006 08:25 PM
I used to have those dreams, and they are HORRIBLE. So horrible. And so real. My husband, like Roger, is *so* faithful and *so* committed that eventually, even my subconscious wouldn't even let him be unfaithful, so I started dreaming that he was leaving me for another *man* because he was gay, and really, that was the only thing that seemed possible.
Um, yeah. Good times.
A few weeks ago, however, I dreamed that we'd agreed to an open marriage and he went for it, and I didn't, and GOD, it was awful.
Long way of saying: I totally feel your pain. And we're so lucky, honestly, that we have husbands who would sooner cut off their own fingers for fun than actually do any of that stuff.
Posted by: jonniker | May 14, 2006 09:14 AM
Oh wow Jes. I'm so sorry. I totally understand more now as to why you were saying that we were experiencing those kind of nightmares.
Roger's comment was really touching.
So good to see you!
Posted by: AmStaff Mom | May 15, 2006 07:15 AM
Jes-
Right behind you, I am Roger's biggest fan.
What a solid individual... I like to see men of God who have made the same committment that I have to Sydney.
Hope your nightmares go away.
Posted by: ben | May 15, 2006 08:50 AM
:( :( :(
Posted by: Courtney | May 15, 2006 11:02 AM
Jes
That made me cry. I rarely cry and I have been on the verge of it all day long. I have had nightmares like about Jon. I always wake crying and scared. I know he would never do that.
Posted by: Susan | May 15, 2006 12:30 PM
Bigs hugs, sweetie.
Posted by: heather | May 15, 2006 01:23 PM
That made me cry and so did Roger's comment.
You are amazing at expressing how you feel.
Posted by: anika | May 15, 2006 01:38 PM
I have had dreams that my significant other was being mean(even cruel) to me and was leaving me for an ex-gf or someone we otherwise knew. I always would wake crying, trembling, terrified. Not sure why, but I have abandonment issues too. My dad and mom split before I was old enough to remember, so I am not sure that could be it.
Thanks for sharing this.
Posted by: Lily Bleu | May 15, 2006 03:45 PM
I'm so thankful that you have such a loving husband as Roger in your life. We are both lucky women to have such great husbands. Sorry you are having nightmares, and I hope they stop soon!
Posted by: Mel | May 15, 2006 04:39 PM
My parents were married for almost 23 years when they split. Last week was the 11th anniversary of the day their divorce was finalized.
I was on a cruise when I realized the date. It hit me in a similar way to what AM described in her post this morning.
I'm still convinced that I caused it somehow. It's irrational. I know that I could have never caused my parents divorce. Yet, the feeling remains.
I'm not sure that I'll ever get married. I'm too scared that it will end and that it will all be my fault. Again, I know that this is irrational, and yet there it is. I can't shake it. I'm haunted. I’m haunted by something I could not control. I’m haunted by a guilt I cannot shake – even today.
Divorce happens to a child. It’s the worst feeling – your whole life is turned upside-down and nothing you can say or do will make a difference. You are suddenly wounded and bleeding – left with scars, nightmares and a broken home that haunts you for the rest of your life.
My parents have moved on, but I’m not sure that I ever will.
Here's a hug from someone who understands (feel free to trade it for another hug from Roger) -
{{{{{{{{Jes}}}}}}}}
Posted by: Deals | May 15, 2006 08:57 PM