Unprocessed trauma, and all of these foreign feelings.

I’ve been in a pretty big funk since my husband got into his accident on Tuesday.

He went through a trauma…but so did I. There are things I can’t unsee, can’t unhear, and can’t unfeel.

I can’t talk about any of it with him, and everyone else has been pretty unavailable when it comes to being able to provide support.

So I’m dealing with it alone. And I don’t know how to deal with it. I’ve never been through something like this before, so the feelings are new and foreign to me.

Part of me feels wrong for having feelings about it. It didn’t happen to me. It happened to him.

Part of me is angry at him and everyone else for not thinking, or not caring, that I do have a lot of shit that I’m going through and dealing with because of it.

A lot of different parts of me feel a lot of different ways. And I think the biggest part of me feels guilty. I don’t know what for. Maybe for just feeling in general.

My emotions have come out in a lot of different ways this week. Some of which surprised me, and some that I completely expected.

Me feeling the complete and total need to fix everything and freaking out about all of the things that I can’t fix…that was totally predictable and expected.

Me kind of freaking out and being possibly unreasonably upset with him yesterday? Less expected, but not completely surprising either.

I’m honestly really scared for this weekend. Weekends usually consist of me waving the white flag and passing off the kids, saying get them the fuck out of my house for a few hours so my brain can hear silence please and thank you!

But I’m struggling with keeping the kids away from him. He’s supposed to be resting. And doing nothing. Whenever he does anything other than nothing, his pain significantly increases.

Our 5 year old in particular, is having an extremely hard time understanding that daddy isn’t home to play with him. He’s home to rest. And my husband can’t tell him no. Or tell him to leave him alone.

I’m like…next level burnt out. I’m exhausted. All I do is take care of everyone and make sure they’re okay and not hurting themselves or pushing themselves too hard and there’s still blood and glass everywhere. I literally just keep finding more and more of it. I also feel like I cannot look at him. Like, physically…his face is so bruised and swollen that it’s just…I can’t look at him.

Like I said, there’s just a lot. I don’t know what I’m feeling. Or if I’m allowed to feel these things.

Yeah, it was his trauma. But I’m hurting from it too.