It was recently said to me that my fiancé was “lucky” and it made think immediately, “is he really lucky?”. In my mind he’s not.
You see I believe he could and does deserve so much better than me. That he deserves better than the girl with all the scars, and wounds that she didn’t even know she had, that haven’t turned to scars yet. The wounds that he has unknowingly opened, and the wounds he has also so delicately healed.
Is he lucky to be pushed to his breaking point? That the emotional roller coaster I ride, brings others willingly or unwillingly along for the ride, is full of way too many unexpected twists and turns for even me to handle somedays (it used to be a lot more days). Never knowing when the next unexpected corkscrew turn will make the cork come out of the bottle (rollercoaster and wine enthusiasts did you see what I did there?). Is he really lucky?
Is he really lucky that one little thing out of nowhere can trigger me? And when it does trigger me…watch out! I don’t like me when I’m angry…you definitely won’t like me when I’m angry. On the chance that I’m around people who don’t know that side of me when triggered, I begin to panic…it escalates…farther and faster than I even have control of. I separate from my body and watch it from a distance. What I say and what I do is beyond control. At or home or in public. The shame and guilt and self-hate once I realize what’s going on, keeps it going, at home or in public. Is he really lucky?
Is he really lucky that my depression from PTSD keeps me in bed somedays? Is he really lucky that most days I’m in pajamas when he comes home? Is he lucky I yell? Is he lucky that my brain paints him as the enemy? Is he lucky?
I’m pretty certain I’m blessed to not only have him, but my sons. You see somehow I was able to keep it all together when they were young, but now that I’m safe and have been finally for 3 years and 4 months on the 17th of May, I have been allowed to go through this process. I’ve yelled and cried, threw things, accidentally put a whole in the wall (small one), I’ve said things I’m ashamed of, and so much more… Is he really lucky?
How can anyone say he or they are the lucky ones? I see it differently. I see it as I am blessed because they are three of the most caring, gentlest, kindest, loving, strong men I know. I’m the blessed one. God sent me 3 males to show me the acceptance, compassion, forgiveness, grace, help, patience, understanding…love that I have never known from a man before. To be honest it’s scary as fuck! Is he really lucky?
So before you start lusting after all my good qualities, ask yourself is he really that lucky.