The Memory of Icicles

I'm going to tell you a story that I have never shared with anyone. I hope that it will bring healing to the reader, or at least the knowledge that you and I might share a common bond. A quote attributed to C.S. Lewis states, "We read to know we are not alone." Isolation and shame are hallmarks of domestic violence. So, I share my story to bring it to the light, and hopefully remove some of it's sting.

Today I saw an icicle hanging in a window and I was triggered. The Cambridge Dictionary states that a trigger is "something that sets off a flashback, transporting the person back to the traumatic event." I have been triggered by icicles for 25 years, and this time I decided to write about it. I want to be free of the fear I feel when I see them.

Go back 25 years with me. I am pregnant with my fifth child. It is late, around 2:00 am. I'm in my bed, trying to sleep. My husband, the father of all of my children, comes in loudly. He is drunk and angry. Usually I get up and talk to him. Let him tell me with guilt where he has been and he's sorry. Tonight I play possum. I am tired and very far along in my pregnancy. It has been snowing a lot in my Maryland suburb. Huge icicles hang outside from the gutters, some thick and a foot long. The porch light is on out back so they are clearly visible.

When my husband can't get my attention, he yells and kicks the bed. Hard. I see the icicles when I open my eyes just a little. They look menacing. I think I gave up trying to sleep, and decided to try to calm him. But that part I don't recall. I just remember the icicles and my husband's rage.

When I wrote the first draft of this story, I could feel my chest tighten at the memory. I was reliving the fear and anxiety. Writing this version, it seems like a distant thing. I am hopeful that bringing this dark thing out and sharing it has made it lose it's power over me.

You may think kicking the bed is not a big deal. But my ex husband and I had a history in which he controlled and abused me with threats of violence. He had also put his hands around my throat, and would later push me and try to contain me in a room. I hesitated to write these things because they are very personal. But they happened, and they happened to me.

I remember feeling that I was scared, for myself and my unborn baby. I was frozen in the bed, much like the icicles outside. Freezing up or shutting down are trauma responses. I still have trouble around angry people.

I have been in therapy for many years, but I never told my therapist about this. I'm tired of something beautiful, and part of nature, causing me anxiety. I am hopeful that some day, it won't strike fear in me to see an icicle.

Maybe I am in a season of facing my triggers. I look back at myself then, and I know I did what was necessary to survive. My ex husband and I have been divorced for 21 years now. He has changed. He carries remorse and guilt for all the pain he caused. He is broken, but I no longer feel it is my job to fix him. I never could anyway. But I can work on fixing myself, and maybe help someone else too.