Journal Entry 4.
                Next entry is a month later.  I have written some ideas for scheduling our day. It’s been two and a half years since he was forced to reveal. At this point I’m in bed, unable to get out. Complete exhaustion from stress and panic attacks. Depression sinking in deeper. It is nearing end of summer. I was hoping to motivate myself with a ‘return to normal’. I was hoping by doing some scheduling it would spark something- some motivation. Shake me back into what was the old life. Planning the books, picture study and composer lessons, and schedule had always my favorite thing to do. But, it was a brick wall. Again my notes are not going anywhere. There is a reminder that chores should be supervised or checked and how to get dinner worked into the daily schedule. The spark just didn’t ignite.
                But, oh, there was a fire raging, but not the one I wanted. Looking back, I know this is extreme burnout stemming from trauma. I still had one eye closed to the reality of the burning of the marriage around me. I was hoping for the fire to be put out soon. To survive, motivate myself, and protect myself, I’d been through anger. It had, and continued, to poured over the surface of my heart unable to be contained and wreaking havoc on my physical body. I now can look back and see I was not in the least prepared for this or what was to come- there was no water to put out the fire that was soon to hit new debris. I’m still not sure I’m prepared. This fire has burned hot and long. As of now, Forced Reveal Day is coming up on 5 years.
                And as I write this, just a few weeks ago, fires burned out of control in California. Desperate, unprepared people forced out of their homes, walking, walking. Some frantic, some zombies. Moving, fleeing. Skies dark with smoke, ashes raining down. Animals being led down the streets. Some carried a few small possessions, mostly clothes on their backs. Shirts pulled up over their faces, suffocating, breathing difficult. Everything destroyed. And adding to the trauma, blame avoided, blame shifted. Arson, on purpose, a willful choice. They’d like to pick up the pieces, but can’t get back to their property. Blocked, stuck.
So eerily familiar to the raging fire of betrayal trauma.