I’ve recently been triggered and it wasn’t his fault. It was my own. It was watching a man stumble, almost falling over, and slurring to do this to me. It was my own man who took the medicine so he wouldn’t have anxiety and be able to sleep. The only thing is, the side effects were working their way into his daily activities as well and I could see it. He can’t. When you are under an influence, whatever it may be, it doesn’t seem as bad to you as someone else who is witnessing it. It made me nervous that he was overtaking what was prescribed.
It was something my Mom was starting to notice and I’m not going to subject her or myself to being witness to those actions again. I don’t care what the fuck it is. I shouldn’t be sorry. I shouldn’t blame myself for feeling this way. It brings back the nerves I had when I knew something was off with JC. I NEVER want to feel that way. I don’t HAVE to feel that way again.
Here’s my thing, I love Patrick and I’m not going to see anything happen to him. I don’t want it to become a problem because I know what a problem things can be. He can be pissed off at me, but he can get over it. I’m not going to feel nervous and afraid around another man in my life. I’m not going to go through flashbacks and panic attacks. I’m sorry. Knowing he has to drive my son and me to Cub Scouts, even if it is two minutes down the road, is still a hazard when you can’t stand up straight or your eyes are rolling into the back of your head.
I’m fucking done with it all. I’m done with things that harm people and harm relationships. I’m glad he emptied the bottle into the trash, that just shows respect and maturity. I know that pissed him off, I know he didn’t want to do what he just did, but that shows me he cares. I just can’t sit here and watch it. I understand now what that looks like from his point of view and I feel like a total asshat for making him go through what I’ve put him through.
It was just a wake-up call that no one deserves to be sedated or messed up. Period.