A Cross-Country Road Trip: The Trauma

Hello friend! Welcome back! I hope you enjoyed last week’s post! If you haven’t read it, please go and read it. It's one of the few times I’m going to outright say that reading the previous post is a requirement for this one. There were a lot of cool places that I popped in on on my way across the country. I still would like to go back and visit a couple of the spots and explore more thoroughly at some point because the natural beauty was incredible. On the flip side of the beautiful and seemingly happy road trip, there was a lot of emotional processing. If vulnerability isn’t your thing and you’re just here for the travel posts, then this may not be the post for you. However, if you’re still with me, let me tell you about one of the hardest moments in my life.

BACKSTORY: I lived in Indiana for about 5 years. I moved there after living in Japan to get another bachelor’s degree that focused more on costume technology and had learned that Indiana University had a well-regarded theater program. I lived and worked there for a year to qualify for in-state tuition, got my degree in 2 years since most of my credits from my first degree rolled over, and moved in with my then-boyfriend (whom we shall call Mr. Frugal) in Indianapolis where after about a year of applying to cruise companies while working part-time in retail (since retail won't pay full time unless you’re a manager and even then they try to keep everyone below the 29-hour mark so they don’t have to pay benefits, and with federal minimum wage being $7.25 meant I had to rely completely on my boyfriend’s higher income in the IT industry since I wasn’t even making enough to buy lunch) I finally got a job on a cruise ship. It also meant I had to leave for about 7 months to work this job because that’s how long crew contracts lasted. We had talked about it before I even applied and we knew that it could strain the relationship. The job paid $1700/month and they believed that because room and board were provided for free, the lower salary was justified. I was just happy to be making more than $800.) While I was on my contract, I called whenever we were in port and had free wifi (crew have to pay for wifi on board too, and it's not even the fast wifi.) I sent home 1/3 of my paycheck to help pay for expenses and student loans, I bought gifts, and I tried to talk whenever possible. I journaled at least a couple of times a week to give as a gift to my boyfriend. His main catchphrase was always “It’s the thought that counts.” So I put as much thought as I could into my gift by recording my thoughts. However, resentment had built up in him while I was away. When the contract ends, so does the money, and my return also meant an increase in expenses again for him and no money being sent home. There was no work for me in Indiana, I had tried all of the nearby theaters (all 2 of them) and they did not respond to my applications for work which is what led to the cruise ship work. I had managed to change positions from a crew member to a costumer for the company and that meant slightly more money, shorter contracts, and being home more often after that but it wasn’t enough. When I was home it felt like there was this extraordinarily heavy silence all of the time. I never seemed to do anything right or make enough money. I walked on eggshells all of the time. Mr. Frugal didn’t like spending any money and was even cross when I spent money on groceries for the household. He said that once I graduated he assume I would be making at least 60k out of college like he did. He got a job working in IT at amazon after he graduated and didn’t understand that IT had a drastically different pay scale from costume. So there was a lot of emotional abuse about money and not living up to whatever expectations he wanted. He didn’t like that I went away for work and didn’t like that I didn’t make the same as he did and made my feel like it was all my fault.

I also had no one to talk to about what was happening. Mr. Frugal saw our local friends on almost a weekly basis, and I wasn’t sure if anything was being said or not said about what was going on. On at least 3 different occasions, smear campaigns happened that either got me fired from all of my part-time jobs, cost me entire friend groups, or pushed me out of opportunities that could have led to internships, local work, or even just healthy friendships. So, because of that, I wasn’t sure if the bitter and abusive behavior from Mr. Frugal had also spread into a smear campaign as well and felt too uncomfortable talking to any of our local friends about his behavior.

Even someone I considered to be my best friend of 13 years ghosted me at this time. Let’s call him Mr. Restless. Mr. Restless was actually the whistleblower on abusive behavior from a friend group from my first college experience. They were having a good ole smear campaign about me while I was living in Japan for 2 years from 2011 to 2013 and he told me everything that was going on. He was such a strong advocate for me but then we fast forward 5 years to 2018 and in that time I moved to his city for that 2nd bachelor’s degree. He was supposed to graduate together with me and ended up dropping out because he was already getting paid opportunities. However the more the paid opportunities grew, the more he canceled. He would accept invites from me and then cancel right when the activity was supposed to happen up to an hour after it should have started.

We met up (finally) a month before the move and talked everything out. I spoke about my growing resentment about his behavior and apologized for my actions in the past that were fueled by that resentment. We had a good heart-to-heart about our friendship and he even promised to come help me load up the moving van the next month.

He never showed up. And honestly, I didn’t expect him to. I was also too overwhelmed with the breakup, the move, and my feelings of isolation to reach out to him until I was in the airport for my flight to Bayonne. That’s when I found out he blocked me on all social media and wouldn’t take my calls. Cool. 13 years of friendship just cut off like that. Okay.

Lastly, back to Mr. Frugal, I was on his car insurance and health insurance. I asked him if he would keep me on those plans for just a week longer in case of an accident. He agreed. The day before moving day, I get a medical bill in the mail informing me that I was not on the health insurance and that I had to pay in full for the check-up I got a month prior. That’s how I found out that he lied to me and didn’t care.

There were additional micro-aggressions that happened on moving day. Mr. Frugal was relocating to a smaller apartment in the same complex since we timed the move for the end of the lease. Being true to his title, he assumed that once my Uhaul was packed up, there would be additional space inside to fit his large pieces of furniture to move across the complex to his new unit. My moving truck had no room to spare and he did not communicate his assumptions until the end of the day when he saw that it was packed full. Yet somehow, he blamed me for not accommodating his needs.

Not my Uhaul, mine was much more full and much smaller.

I wasn’t able to fully talk about any part of all of this until I reached Iowa. I had cried the entire drive up to North Liberty (after I dealt with the flat tire…) and then cried some more after I arrived. Even then I had a hard time forming words. I still didn’t know the vocabulary to express what was happening or how I was feeling or any of it. (I wouldn’t learn this vocab for many more years since it took so long for someone to tell me about Brene Brown.) It wasn’t until I reached Denver that I even began to feel any sense of safety. Skyfall Guestrooms, the boutique hotel in Utah, felt so safe to me that it made me want to hobbit up and never leave. By the time I got to Los Angeles I was raw and wiped out and had very little left in me to navigate much of anything and seeing Santa Monica pier and the Pacific Ocean felt like a proper new beginning for me. I was thankful I didn’t end up needing medical or automotive assistance during my trip. The next day I jetted off to my next contract.

I couldn’t get therapy for this and other traumas I had until 2021. And because I wasn’t able to deal with it, things like trust issues, rejection sensitivity, and thinking everyone secretly hates me all settled within me and started to take over. Because those things all happened to me. Often. It was a cycle. And I was always left to deal with it alone. So even though I managed to pull off my trip, it came with heavy costs to my mental health. It's why I am such an advocate for exploring empathy and for therapy. I was trapped in my own trauma for such a long time that I was holding me back in my friendships, my relationship, and even my career and earnings potential.

And there you have it. The trauma that will forever be tied to this road trip for me. I think I wanted to tell the story because I always feel like no one truly understands how extraordinarily hard this time in my life was for me. I didn’t even have a savings to fall back on in case there was an emergency and my credit cards were maxed out. It was a true leap of faith.

Thank you so much for reading this post today. It was a long one. I truly appreciate you taking the time to be present with me. Next week will be shorter and much more light-hearted. So until then, please take care of yourself this holiday season and I wish you all the best

Kristen

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I would probably name Daniel as Mr. Goofy. He was so supportive in helping me get therapy.