Do you remember when the central serous retinopathy (CSR) got really bad in my right eye? I wrote that my eyesight deteriorated to 20/60 in 2016, but it was actually 20/80 at one point and I had been told to eliminate all stress in my life.
It was the year my daughters and nephew were disowned, as I had been, by my family of origin. We had all started asking questions and instead of getting answers, we got a call from the police telling us we needed to stop. The police said that they’d read over all the emails that had gone back and forth between all of us and realized that there were always two sides to every story, but they said it was my family of origin sitting at the police station putting in the complaint, not us and wondered why I never had my abusers charged?
…I’ve read far too many cases similiar to mine where the victim is scrutinized, and their characters are torn apart in order to prove that the perpetrator is a better person than the victim. I’ve also read that they humiliate the victim, make them look like they aren’t credible, and they leave them broken and feeling more shame than their abusers ever bestowed on them, but I digress…
I was going through a really tough time with my family of origin and because the CSR was acting up, I had been told by my ophthalmologist to avoid stress of any kind; good or bad. As you know that’s pretty hard for someone living with PTSD because just about everything causes stress, but I was going to do whatever it took in order to get my sight back.
Around this time, my husband, Gary and I got invitations to a Stag and Doe, as well as a wedding; they were for his best friend’s youngest daughter and her fiancé. Gary and I discussed it and even though I hadn’t been to a gathering with more than ten people in ages, we decided to go to the Stag and Doe.
When we got there, I was mortified to see that there were hundreds of people there - literally!!! I wanted to get back in the car and head home, but this was important to Gary, so instead, I grabbed hold of Gary’s hand and we went inside. It was raucous! Everyone seemed to be talking at the same time, and they were all trying to be heard above the country music blaring out of what seemed like a hundred speakers. A bottle smashed on the floor behind me and I heard angry words coming out of somebody’s mouth and the next thing I knew I was grabbing my purse and heading back outside. I raced out the door and found a quiet place where I could cry uninhibited and lit a joint wondering how I was going to get through the night.
Needless to say, that a week before the wedding, the only thing on my mind was the fact that I knew I couldn’t do it – that the stress would put me over the edge. Like I mentioned, I never went to celebrations, especially if they involved more than ten or so people. Yes, I’d gone to the Stag and Doe but that was enough! Gary’s best friend and his family knew that I had PTSD and how hard it was for me to be amongst a lot of people, after all, we’d talked about it on numerous occasions. They of all people should understand why I wasn’t willing to put myself under that kind of stress, particularly when I’d been told, it might make me lose the sight in my right eye.
Now, don’t get me wrong because a lot of thought went into it, trust me; I agonized over the decision for months. This was my husband’s best friend and his family and I knew that they meant a lot to him; he had known Scott since public school! Plus, I was afraid that not going to Scott’s daughter’s wedding would make Scott really angry and that it might destroy the friendship, but Gary reassured me that they would understand.
Anyway, the morning of the rehearsal dinner I was an absolute basket case. I hadn’t slept in days, I couldn’t stop crying because I felt so utterly fucked up! Here I was unable to support my husband in something incredibly important to him because of a fucking illness! I just couldn’t get my head to put myself under that kind of stress – if that makes any sense?
Gary and I talked about it; for around the hundredth time and we decided to call them and tell them we weren’t going to be able to make it. My hands shook as I dialed the phone, but I insisted that I would make the call. They were upset and told us that it would really hurt their daughter if we didn’t show, but they said it was okay and we hung up the phone, not knowing it was the last time we were going to speak to each other.
Obviously, they just didn’t get it because it’s been almost two years since we’ve heard from them …even though we’ve called and left multiple messages.
I feel so bad… I feel like the loss of the friendship is completely and utterly my fault. I’ve apologized and continue to apologize to Gary but he just keeps telling me that it doesn’t matter because I’m his family now, but I still can’t stop hoping that one day Scott will put his anger aside and call what was supposed to be his best friend.
Stay safe and stay strong. Thanks for following.
*Names have been changed.