Beloved crawled into bed, turned off the bedside lamp, pulled up the covers placed a pillow over his head. A sure sign something wasn’t right, especially since it wasn’t even eight pm.
He assured me he was fine, that it was “just a wee touch of a headache”. But who does that for just a touch of a small headache? I shrugged my shoulders, and left him alone for an hour or so.
When I stuck my head back in the room he was pretty much as I had left him, and he still wasn’t asleep. Either he had a migraine or there was something else going on and it appeared it was most likely not a migraine. So I decided to attempt to talk to him, afterall what’s the worst that could happen?
Beloved slowly pulled the pillow down off his face, emerged from the cocoon of blankets and told me that he didn’t want to unload his horrors upon me,not with me having my own issues.
But slowly, carefully and yes awkwardly, he began to share the horrors of what he has witnessed in life, the horrors that haunt him from his job and his history. In other words the reality of living with PTSD and learning how cope with things that act as triggers.
There isn’t a cure for this, and a person shouldn’t have to face it alone. Crawling into bed and hiding from things isn’t the answer either. So we venture into this scary and unusual world together. For once I can let him lean on me, and it’s a wonderful thing. No one should face the nightmare of PTSD alone, and yet there are many who do.