What Betrayal Trauma Looks Like

When my husband announced out of the blue on a sunny afternoon in August that he had not been faithful, I immediately went into shock. I did not know at the time that this was why I felt light-headed, had this obnoxious buzzing in my ears, my body was beginning to shake, and I thought I was going to vomit. But through the lens of time and learning, I can look back and see my understandable trauma response and my experience with PTSD that lasted quite a while. If you have ever been in a car accident, it is probably a similar response.

Now, at the time, my husband was giving me only tiny bits of the truth (this is called trickle truth — google it if you aren’t familiar, because you need to be). I had absolutely no idea what was coming for me. This is another huge factor in your trauma; the sense that you do not know what is coming next. At any moment, on any day, the rug could be pulled out from under you again, and things you thought were true will never be again. It’s the feeling of walking on quicksand; there seems to be no solid ground anywhere, no safe place to take cover. I still have to fight the fear that if I relax into my life, I will let my guard down and won’t be prepared for some terrible discovery.

My husband announced his deception, picked up his suitcase, and walked out the door for a business trip. I remember standing at the door like a deer in headlights and watching his car drive down our long driveway and turn right, leaving me more and more alone with this new heavy weight. Today’s healthy me would be able to lay down a boundary, ask him where he thinks he is going and hold him accountable for his actions. I would also be able to understand that this was not in actuality about me, it was about him.

But I was not healthy on that day. I was completely and totally devastated. I could not seem to breathe. I remember sobbing in my closet and staring at the clock, knowing somehow I had to pick up my kids from the bus stop in an hour. I remember driving in a daze, on autopilot, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life and wondering how the world could just continue on as if nothing had changed.

Immediately, my body began to go into trauma mode. I could not sleep. I could not eat. I would throw up at odd times. I would walk through a grocery store and stare at people and wonder if anyone had been through something like this and if they could help me. I felt so alone. Each day was such an effort.

My first night, I remember “Stranger Things” had just come out on Netflix. I binge watched it each night in order to distract myself from the constant and overwhelming pain. I would do anything to keep from laying awake with my thoughts and staring at the ceiling. I was terrified of nighttime. I dreaded it all day long. I actually slept with one of my son’s stuffed animals. Even now, each time a new season of “Stranger Things” debuts, I have flashbacks to the worst nights of my life.

I lost over 20 pounds in about six weeks. I simply could not eat. I couldn’t taste the food. I lost all desire for taking care of myself. Hardly anyone knew, so at church people would come up to me and typically give me one of two responses (I weighed about 103 pounds at the time): “Girl, you look amazing! What is your secret?” or “What is going on with you? You have lost so much weight and you look so gaunt and haunted? Tell me what is going on!” And I would mumble out my standard mantra: I’m tired, I’ve been traveling so much, I’ve been having trouble sleeping, I don’t eat when I am stressed…” Some believed me, some did not. Should I have told them? I don’t know. At the time I was hoping it would be behind us soon, I didn’t want my kids to experience what I was going through, so why bring it up? I just did the best I could in a horrible situation I had zero experience with.

Over the next year, here are some of the other ways my body manifested what was going on inside:

1. My hair stopped growing. It also would fall out in clumps.
2. My nails became weak and broke constantly.
3. I would become overwhelmed in large groups of people or if someone was talking to me. I could fell my stomach churn, my hands shake, and I would experience a surge of adrenalin with the requisite fight or flight response. Mine was flight. I just wanted to run and get out of there. I would usually take off and find a bathroom stall or closet where I could breathe and try to bring my heart rate down. I would usually sob for a time.
4. My period completely stopped for about three months. It’s been pretty off since then.
5. Due to the constant stress and cortisol dumps associated with it, I blew my adrenal glands out. I was constantly exhausted and had to see a doctor to begin supplements.
6. The stress set off the hereditary osteoarthritis gene I carry and my fingers began to swell and ache as it kicked in full strength.
7. I developed some embarrassing tics. I still will tighten the muscles in my neck occasionally.
8. Any loud noise or music could totally set off my trauma response. I remember my kids wanting to sing a song at the top of their lungs one day in the car and I kind of freaked out on them. It was top on my list of things to forgive myself for.
9. Irritability (see #8): I had so much trouble regulating my emotions. I was definitely cycling through the first few stages of grief rapidly on a daily (and sometimes hourly) basis. I felt like a crazy person, and it was awful.
10. The first couple of months, I would leave my house to drive to a particular place, and find myself in a parking lot with no idea how I got there. Honestly, I just would drive and drive and cry and cry.
11. I became so bony from the weight loss that I had to sleep with a pillow between my knees because the bones would hurt from rubbing together.

One of the hardest things was trying to constantly put on this normal face. It was so exhausting and took so much constant energy. I basically did my best each day to keep my nose just above the water. If I left the house, my goal was to keep it together long enough to get home.

The very first morning after D-day, I got out of bed in order to get ready and take my kids to the bus stop. On this morning my oldest had just left for seminary and it was still dark outside. I ran the shower on autopilot and quietly stepped in. I began to wash myself as usual, but some horrible thought came to my mind, some realization of how my life had changed without my knowing, and I remember crouching down in the shower with my chest to my knees. The weight of it all, the sheer sorrow and pain overwhelmed me and literally brought me to my knees. I put my left hand on the wall and my right on the floor and I began to wail. Like honestly, wail and sob. The sheer enormity of what I had just learned and was trying to wrap my head just overwhelmed me in another wave. And these sobs just came from the deepest part of my soul, the part that was trying to understand how this could be real. The part that was still hoping it was all just a misunderstanding, or maybe it was just the “lightest version” of infidelity. Oh, I look back on that moment with so much sorrow and compassion for that girl. That poor, heartbroken girl who has no idea what will keep coming and coming and coming for her. It had barely begun.

But I also look back with an appreciation for how far I have come. In three years of dedicated and serious work, I have become almost a different person. I know who I am deep down no matter what other people choose or the things I have no control over. I can handle my pain so much better. With God’s help I have found a strength in me I never knew I had or could have.

I encourage you to do your work. You are worth it, and you can heal and move forward. The beginning is truly the absolute worst. It is breathtakingly hard and nothing seems dependable or real. But it will not last, especially as you learn how to take your power back and move through these stages.

There are blogs that are only written to express the bottomless sorrow. And if that’s what someone needs, that’s fine. But for me, if I can just help to empower one person, if I can provide the experience and advice I was desperately searching for when I went through this, I will have contributed toward my purpose.

These are the signs of trauma. Know them, and be kind to yourself as you move through it. If you beat yourself up because “somehow you should know how to do this better or faster,” you will actually slow your healing down and risk being stuck in it longer. Remember, you’ve most likely never done this before. This is a serious learning situation for sure.

In my next post, I will talk about some things you can do to work through and heal your trauma. We will cover some ways to empower yourself and take your life back, whether your spouse decides to stay or not. As I have said many times here, I firmly believe your healing depends on YOU.