PTSD

Ptsd and the after-effects of abusive behavior

What it is that distinguishes one person from the next from developing post- traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is still pretty unclear.  It is probably a combination of factors: the level of trauma, the support system of the individual, the inner stability and assurance that a person may develop from childhood that "all is okay".

I don't know.  But what I am fairly certain is that I have PTSD.  And why I know this, is because I can still react to its triggers with what I remember from when he was home (hurtling back in time, like a timetraveller!)...  The hyperarousal (whats that sound?!), the fear (especially the fear), the sense of crunchiness of all those familiar eggshells.

In short, it sucks. Having him served for noncompliance, I seek my day in court; no, I am forced to.  No money, no health insurance for the kids, no childcare or tutoring costs, we can not make it easily... And after a week of hunting for him (and time growing short before the court date), the process server states he has to serve him when he drops the kids off here after his "weekly night out". I tell him, okay, but not until the kids come in...My stomach is in knots.  I am afraid, though I can not express it, he will be angry, I am sure.  

And he is. He is "a wild man", according to the server- who states he threw the papers back at the female process server, and would have kept at it if her male associate had not jumped out.  I heard his BMW rip away with a screech...as I herd my kids upstairs.

I know it was something I had to do.  His refusal now to pay ANY support, even as he talks to the kids about the house he is going to buy, and the fact that his girlfriend. and son will be moving in....goes on. Or as he tells them over another expensive dinner in a restaurant, before he takes them to the store to buy some toys...(those are not bad things actually, I'd rather he'd feed them well than not, ...).
The timing could have been better but there was no choice.  And the secondary part of what I think is PTSD seeps in.  The guilt, the feeling of sickness that it's "me".  "All me".  The feeling of learned helplessness that tells me that its not going to work out and no matter what he will feel and do fine by not paying ANYTHING now...and I will have to scramble for the second and possibly third job to make up the difference.

Or the guilt that the amount he WAS paying as per assigned via state laws on child support formulas is generally way more than anyone  i have heard receives...but it just barely covering our expenses even with my salary.  I am proud of the latter because my wages are decent even after having been a SAHM For 13 years.

But its not enough.  I am trying to keep it right for my kids (and even for me, as I have started to fund, minimally at least, my retirement fund).  I pray he is forced to provide the child support, having offered not to pursue maintenance (after 24 years) so that I could get the best custody arrangement he would agree to (though he swore he'd never "give" me money for me).  But I feel weak.  It feels like he will be able to pay nothing, the lack of power is oppressive.  But he must not know about it.

So.. Abuse is a funny thing.  It makes the giver feel strong, and the receiver feel weak. And even as I have passed that aspect of it, and applied full force boundaries against this man who has become a nasty and unkind narcissist (though, I despise labels because it cuckholds people into boxes, and never tells the whole truth about them), i feel helpless and afraid behind closed doors.

I write, to cope.  I keep quiet and try to find my way.  I call my own friend who is a support, having lived through her own Hell.  But it is so hard.  What this has done to me, i am afraid to know.  Kindness from strangers, sets off my tears.  Why, I don't know..except to say that kindness seems so foreign now.