Getting Myself Back

I have touched on in the past relationships I had that were toxic. One relationship where a trauma bond was involved. Per Wikipedia, “Trauma bonds is a term developed by psychologists George Dutton and Susan Painter to describe emotional bonds with an individual that arise from a recurring, cyclical pattern of abuse perpetuated by intermittent reinforcement through rewards and punishments.”

During the three years of that trauma bond relationship, I wasn’t aware of the term. Sometimes I wonder if I did then I would have told someone. The entire time I thought it was my fault that what was happening was happening. Looking at me at that time I wouldn’t have. Isolation can do that.

It’s been almost four years since things came out about that situation. Some days it feels like yesterday. Other days it feels that long or longer.

I never thought I’d get past that time of my life. It happened during my college days. Days that I sometimes miss. Days that I sometimes still feel like I am in because I now work at the same college. That relationship is so intertwined with that college. My entire life.

My life kind of began when I started college. Especially, after I had lost my aunt. I was able to do things for myself for the first time, ever. That hadn’t lasted too long before the trauma bond had begun. I think the relationship I had with my aunt made it easier for a trauma bond to develop. My aunt and the person the trauma bond was created with had very similar traits. Both narcissistic.

Because I am a person who will give just about every part of me to someone, it creates a perfect situation for someone like that. At the time, I didn’t know any different. Now I do.

During those three years, especially at the beginning people liked who they saw in me. I was happy. I was interacting with people. I was talking (which was huge).

I liked who I was becoming. They made me feel secure. I think it was because I had no one and then I had them. Someone who was saying all of these things. Things I look back on that were said in a manipulative way, but again I didn’t know the difference. I was barely nineteen. Technically an adult, but I was far from nineteen mentally. Plus, nineteen without trauma is still young when I look back now in my late twenties.

When things came out about that relationship I was lost. I was in ways withdrawing from that relationship. Something that can happen with a trauma bond. I had started working at the school where parts of the relationship were all over. There isn’t a place on the entire campus that doesn’t remind me of them. It can shut me down.

That bond was created and is so intertwined with the production world and my time in that world as a student. I was a media communication student and would have finished as one if I didn’t need to graduate because of financial issues. I loved that world. I loved being a part of the TV and radio world. That trauma bond made it debilitating to do. Post grad I only worked specific events when there was a desperate need for camera operators.

I needed to separate myself from that world. I needed to separate myself from the school as much as possible which is not easy when you still work there. In the beginning, I didn’t want to because that bond in me was still so strong. Thankfully, I had people that knew I needed to stay away and helped with that.

In August, I worked for a company doing camera stuff. I was filling in for a friend who works for them more regularly. She had work stuff come up so she needed someone to fill in for her. I tried everything to not work. I knew I was her best shot. Plus, it was at the school I work at, which was a reason I didn’t want to do it. I was the closest to everything. I thought, “I made it through a 3-day event in May, this couldn’t be worse”. It was.

I didn’t realize that this August event was going to be in the football stadium. The event in May wasn’t. In my head, both events were in the same location. The night before I was to work the event, I went to brush my teeth and that’s when my brain became aware that I was going to be in the football stadium. I fell to the floor because I began to have a panic attack. This was going to be the first time I went into that stadium to work. I had been there a couple of times for games but not work. So I was able to ignore the triggers easier in those situations. This was the place where I told someone about that trauma bond relationship. The place where things were coming out about them involving me and others. The interactions and hours spent with that person had been in the stadium.

The first day, I walked into the stadium and as I was heading up towards the press box, my brain was doing good but my body wanted me to get out of there so fast. I had never had that happen. Usually, it’s my brain that is telling me. I needed to go to the guest press box but I went to the home side first. I saw one of my safe people and tried to recollect myself. I was shaking and nauseous. I didn’t know if I was able to do the job I needed to do. I was shutting down. I decided to finally walk down the hall and go where I was supposed to be. I was quiet most of the time. Observing those around me. There was one or two people there that were comforting. I somehow made it that first day. Then the second day came around. Walking into the stadium wasn’t as bad the second day. As soon as I got to the stairs to go up to the press box I smelled the cologne they used to wear. It was not similar. It was the exact one. The cologne I smelled for the three years of that trauma bond. The cologne was an identity of sorts. Smelling that cologne for the first time in years nearly shut me down. The last time I had smelled it, I was in that same stadium. I had to keep going. I did. I went up, grabbed my camera, and went to set it up. As I went down the stairs, the audio guy was coming up. The entire time I was trying so hard not to cry in front of these people who didn’t know me. They didn’t know and didn’t need to know what was going through my head. When I got done setting up my camera, I did cry. At least I was alone. Then I went back up and sat in the corner focusing on one thing. A thing that did make me feel better which was nice. As I was tearing down, the man who was wearing the cologne passed me. I did have to recollect myself again but it was easier that time around. I had become a little more comfortable by the end of the night. I was interacting with the team a little more. As tedious as tearing down can be it can sometimes be my favorite. I had Olivia O’Brien in my ear and went on autopilot as I wrapped cables. I left that night bittersweet. I had come to enjoy the presence of some of the people.

Life is full of moments that at the time don’t seem like they’d be important. Then you look back and see that they ended up changing so much.

As challenging as the two-day event was. It showed me I was capable. Now, that stadium doesn’t trigger me as much. It now has some positive parts of it. That wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t worked an event I tried so hard not to do.

In the last few months, I have become me. The girl that came out at the beginning of the trauma bond that everyone was enjoying and commenting on. The parts that I had then lost and was afraid I wouldn’t get back. I’ve gotten them back. This time it wasn’t because of a man, but because of me. I found and got myself back on my own.

It’s an indescribable feeling.

I’m back to being confident and comfortable in who I am. Something I wanted to hide from the world. I didn’t want to be noticed because I was afraid of what was going to happen.

I got myself back and I never thought that was going to happen.