Cooking some Indonesian instant noodle at 11 pm in my microwave. Watching the bowl in the microwave go round and round. Sipping lychee beer from the can. Shoving a mouthful of the sodium-laden noodle in my mouth. It tasted like sawdust. I shove some more in. Eat. Eat. Eat. The floor looked so inviting. Maybe it will be comfortable enough with some blanket?
Can't even look at the door to my bedroom. I don't want to go. Ac was on, bed was made, and my lovely boyfriend was in there sleeping peacefully. It was the last place on earth I want to go to. I can see myself swaddle in blankets on the floor. It will be safe. It will be perfect. Boyfriend wouldn't notice. But if he does, he'll be heartbroken. It is not fair for him. I went to the bedroom and lay next to him, silently crying myself to sleep.
It wasn't even his fault. It was an accident. We were together and something he did triggers my trauma. I was gone in an instant, spiraling down the hole. Even as he hugged me close, all I can think of was running away. A part of me knew it was him and I am safe with him, another part of me saw the past and was eager to run into the night.
It's the memory of all the nights of crying silently in my marriage. Of sexual intercourse that was done only so ex-husband will shut up. Of being blamed for his inability to perform, from not appetizing enough to how slutty and despicable I am. Of wanting to be loved so badly but was treated like a piece of meat. Of wanting to run away but I'm 8000 miles from home. Of trying to get help but no one wanted to help. After all, am I not the gold digger?
My boyfriend was so remorseful when I told him he accidentally hurt me. He couldn't have known. I didn't even know. I should have told him when it happened. My excuse was it is not fair for him. It was not his fault that I am batshit crazy. It was late and he need sleep. The reality is I am scared to ask for help and got rejected again. I am scared he'll attacked me instead like my ex-husband did before. He is not that kind of man, but once you got bitten by a dog even the friendliest bark sounds like Cerberus' howl.
I hate it. I thought I did so well. I am learning to love again. I am treated respectfully and lovingly. Yet my shield is still up. My trust is still low. I am still falling again to the state of despair and fear, drowning in my emotion. I am still sitting in the bus, thinking to myself: "Death sounds very comforting right now." 3+ years of struggling and here I am. Days without incident: 0.
