Mountain Center, VT —> North Carolina
The next day he picked me up at the hostel. I felt so tired from lack of sleep and a sugar hangover from everything I stress ate the night before. I felt sick, for more reasons than one. He gave me a big hug when he pulled up and I felt anxious instead of protected, as I had in the past. I was starting to bring the unconscious feelings to a subconscious level. They weren’t conscious yet but I could identify that something was wrong.
Cory said he wanted to show me his home for a few days before I left. It was important to him that as “partners” I meet his family and see where he grew up. His home is Fayetville, NC. He said the last girl he brought home was the girl he thought he was going to marry so this was a “big deal.” How could I say no?
On August 6th I texted Bret “I’m getting off trail and trying again in March.”
“Is it because of the boy drama?” She replied.
“Nah I’d never give up a dream because of dumb boys. But it’s related along with lots of other stuff I’ve been thinking about. I want to tell you all about it but Lionheart and I are driving to NC for a few days before I fly home so we wanted to stop on the way and say hi if you’re free.” I told her I wanted her to meet Cory. I oscillated between wanting to disappear and “break up” with him and thinking he was the unconventional man of my dreams. I needed Bret to help me sort this out because I could no longer trust my own thoughts, but that was a lot to put on one person, especially a person unaware of the abuse.
I didn’t realize I was putting so much on her. I was stuck in the swamp of abuse and was more focused on survival than I was on how she was doing. She felt neglected, even when we talked on the phone because I was too preoccupied mentally and emotionally to be empathetic to her issues and I couldn’t earnestly listen because my mind was soup.
Her resentment was building up but I was unaware. I was a shitty friend because I was consumed by the trauma but she didn't tell me she was hurting or if she did, I didn’t hear her. She agreed to meet Cory in New York anyway.
I looked back at pictures from the dinner we all had in Ithaca, NY and they look like pictures of people I’ve never met. If you were to ask me today if I’ve ever been to Ithaca I would say no. If you showed me pictures of the downtown, it would not look familiar. It’s called “trauma brain” maybe you’ve heard of it? Traumatic experiences get erased from our memories as a stress response. I remember Bret texting me after dinner saying she liked Cory but thought there might be a few problematic things in the way he treated and spoke to me. I blew it off and said I appreciated her concern, he was just stressed and it was out of character for him. It was not. He was on his best behavior.
I had to defend him so no one would know I was in trouble and worry about me. I had to find a way to escape and now he was driving me from Vermont to North Carolina. All I had to do was make it through the next few days then I could go home and figure it all out. No one could help or save me but me.
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