Scared. I think we’re all feeling scared about the corona virus. It’s putting a lot of us on edge not know if we’re going to get sick, pass the sickness to the people we love. If you’re like me, you’re afraid of losing your job. I’ve got a weeks notice from my employer that I’m going to be laid off.
On the bright side, my partner and I are moving in together to help offset the cost of me losing my job. I’m worried about moving in, though. We’ve practically already been living together for a couple months now, and we’re starting to feel the strain. I’m easily agitated, and he knows he gets on my nerves. Sometimes I think he tests my patience with him on purpose.
He says he’s “testing” me often. Testing me to see how many dishes I’ll let build up before putting them in the dishwasher, how much laundry will pile up before washing it? I hate that he “tests” me like this. He says I’m interpreting it wrong, but I don’t think he knows what it means to “test” something. When there’s a test it means there’s a right and wrong answer. I tell him that if he has a problem he needs to just tell me what it is—don’t “test” me.
I’m grateful to have him around, though. Don’t get me wrong. He takes very good care of me and makes time for my parents, too. I like him a lot. He and I just aren’t on the same page yet. We’ll get there. We just have to talk a lot more and a lot more clearly.
Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say. I feel kids he’s doomsday prepping for the outcome of COVID-19. I think he’s right to be scared, but he’s been talking about wanting to buy a gun. He even mentioned getting me one, too. I don’t want a gun. I’m afraid of guns in the house. He says he wants to protect us. He foresees looting and rioters in the streets. I remind him we aren’t in a low income area that where that’s more likely to take place. He ignores me and pushes for the gun. I tell him to do what he feels is best.
I trust him, but I’m afraid. I tried to tell him I’m afraid of having a gun in the house. I trust him, but I also trusted the man who put a knife to my throat and raped me. I tried to tell him that. He told me he didn’t want to hear those words. I can’t tell him about my trauma. How will he ever understand how having a weapon in the house might scare me? He says, “I’ve got knives in the house and they’ve never hurt you.” Somehow that’s not the same. It’s the idea that something can be turned so quickly against you by someone you trust. What happens when it’s not for protection anymore?
Not that I actually think he would hurt me, but trauma doesn’t just go away. It’s constantly being triggered by something. Even if it’s been a few years and you’re “over it.” It doesn’t mean that the trauma doesn’t peek its dirty little head back into your new, safe life. It means it’s just happening less and less. I still tell him he can buy the gun. I’m glad he doesn’t go to bed at the same time I do. I don’t want to be touched tonight.
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