Comfortably Numb

This is a chapter from Bodies in the Basement by Aubrey Cole

Yes, folks, this chapter was inspired by Pink Floyd. I told you I get my inspirations from all over the place! This song came on the radio today as I was driving back from my auto mechanic (don’t ask) and I began to think just how living in an abusive relationship can be described as a state of “comfortably numb”.

We all have our cycles of anger and frustration, but in order to cope, most abused partners end up developing a static mode where you expect the worst and just keep your guard up. That doesn’t make for a very happy life. In fact, it makes for a life with little genuine emotion and a lot of confusion as to what is real and what isn’t.

It’s not denial. I’m just selective about the reality I accept.

Bill Watterson

I know that over time I became withdrawn from many things and people in my life. I used to love when we would have block parties or groups of us would just hang out talking in the street on a summer night. I enjoyed making the rounds at the subdivision’s pool to chat with people and see what had been happening in their lives. I liked going to visit friends and former co-workers. Eventually, though, the weight of trying to hide and fend off the abuse became too much for me and I retreated into myself. It’s not that I became anti-social, it was just too much work to try to put on a happy face and “be myself” when “myself” was actually deeply hidden under all the junk. I have a quick wit and a fabulous sense of humor but it was just overwhelming to come out of the “comfortably numb” state, then have to retreat back to the safety of denial once the social event was over. Add to that, many of my friends just plain didn’t like my ex-husband and I could see it. They found him to have a negative vibe and not very easy to talk to… the polar opposite of me. He was just part of the package that went along with me and, later, my daughters.

The numbness becomes a routine way to deal with the reality that your life has become completely unmanageable. Just as they say in a 12-step program, admitting that and confronting it are really the first big steps toward healing. Alcoholics Anonymous, Step 1: “We admitted that we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable”.

I think that’s very close to the first step we must take to escape our abusive relationships, which goes more like, “I admitted that nothing I have done has made the situation any better, that continuing to suffer is pointless”. Somewhere between the beginning of the abuse–which sends you into a form of shock–and the point of acceptance (more like resignation), you move yourself into a state of “comfortably numb” in order to shield yourself from the constant rollercoaster of emotion. It becomes preferable to just feel nothing than to constantly go from happy, to sad, to angry, to desperate, to resigned, and back to a short burst of happy, over and over.

One of the things that surprised me the most during my recovery journey was when I finally got past the shock of the marriage ending (I thought I was relieved, but it turns out I was mostly in disbelief that I actually did, finally, get away!) and entered into the next stages of grief. I hadn’t banked on having to deal with anger, depression and bargaining again! I had just spent 25+ years cycling through all the stages of grief except one… acceptance. Meanwhile, I was blindsided by the resurfacing of emotions and their intensity. I had to deal with a new wave of anger which was aimed partly at myself and partly at him, as well as a whole different sadness… the loss of the dream. This wasn’t what I had wanted for my life but, nonetheless, it was far, far better than what I had been putting up with. As most survivors will agree, once you are “out” it doesn’t mean you are in the clear from the abuse, which makes the whole journey even harder.

Now, I Can Report From the ‘Other Side’ of That Part of the Journey.

I know now that when I laugh, there is nothing forced or fake about it in order to cover up how I ‘really’ feel: I’m happy! When I feel sadness, I cry (although I do admit to scheduling my crying time so I don’t come completely unglued right before, say, a kid’s lacrosse game). When I feel anger, it is far more fleeting and less intense. I don’t try to make deals with God anymore or question what in the world I ever did to deserve such-and-such. It just is. My ex-husband was, is and probably will forever be a disordered personality making choices about his behavior and that, my friends, is called “free will”. There are plenty of people who grow up in horrible circumstances but take every step necessary to do something different. Then there are those who, like my ex-husband, refuse to acknowledge their past yet spend their life’s energy controlling, demeaning, scamming, screwing, and targeting others.

Emotions really aren’t something to be hidden from or pushed down. As we all know from experience, anger turned inward is depression. No wonder we were all sick and tired all the time! Do you know just how much work it takes to hide your true emotions? Once you give up trying to push them down all the time and learn how to manage them appropriately, suddenly you realize that they really weren’t as big and scary as you thought.

Evolving into a state of “comfortably numb” doesn’t happen overnight and getting back to your true self doesn’t either. What I found to be really helpful in those early phases of dealing with my genuine emotions was to consciously stop and ask myself questions.

“Am I really angry or am I sad and masking it with anger?”

“What is it that made me sad or angry and why?”

I would ask myself over and over what the real story was until I could get to the cause of my feelings and deal with it. I just kept asking “Why” until I reached what I thought was a logical conclusion. I also have a method for dealing with feelings of fear, which is simple.

“What is the worst possible outcome in this situation, how would I handle it, and what can I do about it?”

You’d be surprised just how much power there is in asking yourself questions that make you think and process rather than just react.

Sure, you’re allowed to be mad. I still have times when I want to call him every name in the book for what he’s done to my children or because he’s just a vicious, vindictive asshole. Then I just ask myself a few questions about it and get my focus back, maybe make a few jokes at his expense, and move on.

Please remember that as you go through these phases of recovery, you are dealing with grief, plain and simple. It needs to be treated that way. In fact, if you have never read Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s book On Death and Dying, you should. It explains the stages of grieving and helps to frame them in such a way that I found I could treat myself like a patient who needed care rather than a girl who just needed to “get it together”.

Numb is not the goal. If you are numb, you really aren’t living. Take tiny steps forward to understand and feel real emotion. Don’t be afraid, fear is a fake emotion that arises from something else. Seek to better know your emotions and I guarantee your recovery will begin to move forward in leaps and bounds!