I broke my ankle again last Saturday night/Sunday morning. This past week has been arduous at best and hellish at worst.
Tonight was one of the worst nights. I've been avoiding the vicodin the doctor prescribed because it makes me too sleepy for work. I thought I was doing very well though because when I got home it hardly hurt at all. I cleaned out my car, and made dinner. It was only when I went to relax that I realized why I was feeling so well; I had stopped feeling my foot at some point during the day. As soon as feeling returned I was in agony.
I took a vicodin and my friend Terry got me an ice pack and I thought the pain would abate. No. The ice pack helped reduce swelling which increased the blood flow which meant I felt my foot even more. If that wasn't bad enough, my leg started to cramp. Suddenly I was in a depth of pain I really wasn't well acquainted with before tonight. I quickly took another vicodin and an ibuprofen to reduce the swelling further (taking 2 is ok per the doctors orders).
Now I was loopy and in an insane amount of pain. And when I experience an insane amount of pain I start to get flashbacks. Sure enough, my vision started to fade and the pervasive fear overtook me. I tried to hold still and not make any noise, which only added to the tenseness in my muscles and exacerbated the leg cramp. I went in and out of memories, one moment being aware that I was on my couch and safe in my home and the next back on another couch, in another time being beaten until I passed out. Still, I was able to keep myself from being lost entirely to the fear, pulling myself back when I'd slip back in to the terror.
I'm not sure how much time passed, but I was able to ground myself with the help of my friend and bring myself back into the now. We strapped my walking boot back on and hurried to get me to the bedroom so if I passed out or flashbacked again I'd be in a better spot than the couch.
Lucky for me, I had one more flashback experience to live through again before the fear would release me. Getting on to the bed my foot bore the weight of the boot and with that pulling down on my ankle I found myself back in my nightmares and memories once more, curling up my good leg while holding the bad one bone straight with my arms curled over my head, begging my ex to stop and saying how sorry I was. I was completely lost, crying and bracing for punches that wouldn't come. For several minutes I couldn't remember where I was or who I was with. Ironically, the pain in my ankle and the feel of the boot is what helped drive home that I wasn't there anymore, that I must be somewhere else because in the memory there was nothing on my feet. My friend held me and assured me I was safe, helping to remind me of where and when I was.
That was almost 4 hours ago. I know that when I sleep I'll return to the memory and that I'll be beat over and over again. So I'm keeping myself up for as long as possible in the hopes that if I pass out from exhaustion my mind will be too tired to dream. My foot no longer aches, the vicodin and ibuprofen having done their job. Now my heart aches, knowing that no matter how much time passes, the fear is as potent today as it was 10 years ago.
My silver lining is having friends and family who understand how to help me when I have a flashback or panic attack and for that I'm grateful. I'm safe here... I'm safe. If I keep telling myself that, maybe it will seep in to the dreamworld too and the me in the dream will remember that she escaped him and allow me to rest in my sleep.
Pardon my unshaved legs. Here is the bruising as of today.
