I never expected to survive strangulation. I never expected that the person who would try to kill me wouldn’t be a stranger, but my husband’s ex-wife. And I never expected that surviving would be only the beginning.
This blog post is not written from a place of clean conclusions or perfect wisdom. It’s written from the thick of it from journal entries that span days of bone-deep exhaustion, parenting stress, stepfamily confusion, financial collapse, and the invisible prison that PTSD builds. If you’re in the mess, I wrote this for you.
PTSD Is a Prison
“Suddenly, my closest people look at me and have this expression like I have a problem.”
This was one of the first things I wrote after the attack. I didn’t have words yet for what was happening inside of me. I only knew the way the people closest to me looked at me had changed. I felt unsafe even with them, not because they were dangerous, but because I was no longer relatable. My nervous system was frayed, on high alert. I couldn’t process anything like I used to.
Strangulation is more than a physical injury. It’s a psychological rupture. It’s the moment your body records that death is near, and, for many of us, that message doesn’t get unwound without time, therapy, movement, and deep healing.
03/02/17
My ptsd is… a prison.
Suddenly, my closest people look at me and have this expression like I have a problem.
Unrelateable circumstances.
The woman who strangled me was texting my stepson’s girlfriend, “hey girl,” this friendship makes me feel sick to my stomach. It’s such manipulation. If this girl had any idea how she talks about her, omg.
Trying to Parent While in Survival Mode
“Woke up tired, exhausted again… I made the girls waffles. I watched Bolt with my daughter. I felt bad that I had to spend the day working on stuff in the house with our daughter on our day off and not do anything fun.”
There is a specific kind of grief that comes from wanting to be present for your children and knowing your body and brain are not cooperating. PTSD hijacks the most basic joys—like making waffles or watching a movie—because the nervous system is still in battle mode. The guilt piles up.
As a stepmother, I often felt invisible. My trauma wasn’t seen as valid. I wasn’t considered a “real” parent. I was expected to carry emotional labor for children who lived in two worlds while having no legal protection myself. That injustice burns through every layer of recovery.
3/5/17 Sunday
Woke up tired, exhausted again, and spent my morning cleaning, vacuuming, and doing laundry. Put together my daughter’s easel, helped her do some art, took down her fort, and put up her teepee. I made the girls waffles, and I watched Bolt with my daughter. Had two coffees. Now I am finally sitting down to pay bills, and I am realizing that I have not done them or saved a version of my spreadsheet since December 2015. WTF?! I felt bad that I had to spend the day working on stuff in the house with our daughter on our day off, and not do anything fun. She said she wanted to paint. So I thought of her new easel that has just been sitting in the back of the storage, not getting used. My husband was going to be gone for the day, so I needed a plan. My daughter and I were brushing our teeth. She was excited to paint and shared the great news about putting together her easel. My husband immediately flew off the handle about not putting it up. We protested, but I want to, of course, she is six. He said No way, not going to happen. For reasons like it’s going to rain and there is nowhere to put it. He then went on a dissertation about how you don’t always get what you want in life, and that is life, get used to it, which at the time felt pretty aggressive. When I told him that it was pretty much already decided and that I didn’t feel I needed to consult with him on it ahead of time, he stomped his feet out the door without saying goodbye. We proceeded to assemble her easel, which was quite the learning experience, especially givingme insight into where the threshold is for her frustration level. At one point, she threw the bolt at me and yelled How many times are we going to take it off and put it back on again. She gets super frustrated and reacts badly. We need to harness her and get her to enjoy the process. It took a while, but we got it up, and despite the fact that we could not find the paint.
My stepdaughter came back from her big brother’s and told us that his girlfriend started telling her that it was wrong she was out of school for therapy, and that she shouldn’t even be going to the therapist yet because her Mom hasn’t agreed, and that is wrong. My step-daughter indicated that it made her feel weird. It was frustrating to have to deal with it. If I think about what is nurturing or draining. That was draining.
03/04/17
My stepdaughter’s mom told her it wasn’t fair that we had an IEP meeting; she said she’s supposed to tell her.
3/6/17 Monday
I just got out of the shower, and it felt great to get that day off of me. They say that it’s good to have a routine like that, especially as a mother, so your children see you taking care of yourself. This morning started like shit. My alarm went off at 5 am as it does every day, and it woke me up. I decided not to go to yoga, but realized now that there wasn’t even any class, so it didn’t matter. I was trying to rest my neck. My stepdaughter was up, but I didn’t make her breakfast because I wanted to get out with Biggie, and she is good on her own. Anyway, she snapped at me as she did the night before. For some reason, it just set me off. My husband and I got into a fight regarding our daughter feeling like he ‘bullied’ her. He blew up at both of us for it. It was pretty terrible. We ended up not talking for the rest of the night, really, really stressful. I was down for three hours with a headache. My neck has been super sore.
Fell asleep in yoga.
3/7/17 Tuesday
I got up and went to yoga, which felt great. Went to work, pretty non-eventful for the most part. My husband and I went to therapy, and that was pretty ok. We talked about how I was feeling and how family may or may not be around. It worked out pretty well, except once we got home, my stepdaughter got all snappy on me again right before bed when she asked us to plug in her computer, and we told her that her computer was her responsibility. Ugh, not nurturing. Draining.
The Stepfamily Dynamic & Emotional Exhaustion
“It seems like on the weeks she goes to her mom’s, she starts acting funny.”
“My stepdaughter’s mom told her it wasn’t fair that we had an IEP meeting.”
Parental alienation is a form of emotional abuse, and children bear the cost. My stepdaughter was in survival mode too, caught between loyalty binds and confusion. I watched her shut down, lash out, and withdraw—and I felt powerless. I knew her behavior wasn’t about me. But it still hurt.
In blended families where trauma is present, the kids act out what the adults won’t talk about. And when you’re the stepmother who was nearly killed by the biological mother, it becomes impossible to ignore the emotional weight everyone is carrying. Especially when the legal system refuses to name it.
3/8/17 Wednesday
I got up early. Felt ready to talk to my stepdaughter. She made her breakfast. I had my coffee and was sitting at the table. I decided to start talking about it. I asked her if there was anything wrong and if she was mad about something I may have done. Nothing seemed to be triggering anything for her; she was just shutting down. Then I let her know that I see her shutting down, and what her body language was telling me was that she wanted me to stop talking. She started to perk up once I said that. We started coming around to each other. We made a pact that the next time we snap at each other, we have to check the calendar, and if it is close to our periods, all bets are off. We talked about love tanks. I talked about having a boyfriend and how girls give all they have to that boy, and they forget about themselves and their other connections that keep them healthy and balanced. It looked like lots made sense. Then tonight I decided to write her a letter just so she knows that I am here for her. She is still injured at times. Also, it seems like on the weeks she goes to her mom’s, she starts acting funny.
Our daughter was great, wow, her art is pretty amazing. I got a BOOM stick, pretty stoked on that. I have laundry in the dryer, I want to go to yoga tomorrow, so I don’t want to get up to fold the laundry, but it would be great if I could just hammer it out right now. OMG, so tired, don’t think I can handle it. My husband said he would switch, but he will probably forget. Ugh. So tired. Good night.
Our daughter had a nightmare last night, going through a maze and getting her hands tied.
My Body Was Speaking For Me
“Got my period, worst cramps, and a muscle spasm in my back. I cried at therapy because I didn’t do anything to help myself when I was being attacked.”
“Our daughter had a nightmare last night going through a maze and getting her hands tied.”
Trauma doesn’t stay neatly filed away in our minds. It comes out in the body. In chronic pain, in migraines, in missed periods, in exhaustion. And for children? In nightmares.
I blamed myself for not fighting back. But I was frozen. It was instinctual. And slowly, through therapy, I started to unlearn the shame of that.
Sunday 3/12/17
I got my period, have the worst cramps, and a muscle spasm in my back. Had therapy on Saturday, the focus was on my health and the pain I still feel. The plan is to find another doctor to help me feel better. I am so sick of feeling like shit. I used to not feel shitty all the time. I am just exhausted and have a headache almost every day. Is the stress of a civil case bringing on stress for us? It must. I want to start writing this story for real. I cried at therapy because I didn’t do anything to help myself when I was being attacked. I was so sad that I just let myself get hurt. Why didn’t I? Was I taken that off guard? Was it that violent and forceful? Could there have been anything I could have done? I spend a lot of time feeling like something has been taken away from me. Like car accident victims who get hurt and have had something taken away from them. It feels the same. Alright, I have to sleep and recharge. Another week starts tomorrow, and I’m not ready.
03/13/17
03/14/17
03/16/17
My stepdaughter’s mom took her ring.
03/17/17
Feeling super weird about my stepson.
Saturday 03/18/17
I had every intention of journaling and did not.
03/20/17
Tuesday 3/22/17
Doing my bills, that last time I did them, I did not have two Prius payments in the budget….
03/29/17
04/2/17
Dealing with the fact that someone tried to kill me.
04/04/07
Tension is weakness. Relaxation is strength.
I’ve had lots of problems with my password at work.
04/05/17
My stepson came for dinner alone, and he is coming to Seattle.
04/07/17
I fought with my stepdaughter when she came from her mom’s. It is so frustrating.
04/07/17
04/10/17
Forgiveness As a Choice, Not a Shortcut
“To forgive, we need to stop identifying ourselves with the suffering that was caused us.”
Forgiveness has been the hardest part. It’s not about condoning what happened. It’s about choosing to no longer carry the bitterness. Some days, I can forgive. Other days, I can barely breathe. That’s the rhythm of real healing.
Forgiveness isn’t linear. But it is necessary.
Signs from the Universe: Angel Numbers & The Path Forward
During this time, I began seeing numbers everywhere. Repeating. Guiding. Reminding me that I wasn’t alone.
- 155: Take charge of your life. Make the changes. Even if you’re scared.
- 3030: Let your creativity heal you. Do what brings you joy. Express it.
- 730: You are on the right path. Keep going. Your angels are beside you.
These messages were my lifeline. I needed them. I still do.
4/12/17
Interestingly, this day was an anniversary of our trauma and I make no mention of it!
Number 730 is a blend of the vibrations of number 7, the energies of number 3, and the influences of number 0. Number 7relates to understanding the self and others, mysticism and the esoteric, spiritual awakening and development, empathic and psychic abilities, introspection and inner-knowing, and study, education, and learning. Number 3 offers assistance and encouragement, communication and enthusiasm, growth, being brave and courageous, expansion, and the principles of increase, manifesting, broad-minded thinking, self-expression, natural talents and skills, and the energies of the Ascended Masters. Number 0 represents potential and/or choice, a spiritual journey, developing your spiritual aspects, listening to your intuition and higher-self, eternity and infinity, oneness and wholeness, continuing cycles and flow, and the beginning point. Number 0 also relates to the God force/Universal Energies/Source, and magnifies the influences of the numbers it appears with.
Angel Number 730 is an important message that the life choices you have made have brought about positive opportunities that will ensure that you stay on the right Divine path. It is also an indication that you will be devoting more of your time and energy towards your spiritual pursuits and your soul mission.
Angel Number 730 brings a message to continue on your current path with enthusiasm and confidence, knowing that you are successfully living your destiny. Trust that you are safe and protected along your journey, and the angels andAscended Masters are beside you all the way, supporting and encouraging you.
04/18/17
Importance Of Forgiveness
BY MADISYN TAYLOR
To forgive, we need to stop identifying ourselves with the suffering that was caused to us.
When someone has hurt us, consciously or unconsciously, one of the most difficult things we have to face in resolving the situation is the act of forgiveness. Sometimes it feels like it’s easier not to forgive and that the answer is to simply cut the person in question out of our lives. In some cases, ending the relationship may be the right thing to do, but even in that case, we will only be free if we have truly forgiven. If we harbor bitterness in our hearts against anyone, we only hurt ourselves because we are the ones harboring the bitterness. Choosing to forgive is choosing to alleviate ourselves of that burden, choosing to be free of the past, and choosing not to perceive ourselves as victims.
One of the reasons that forgiveness can be so challenging is that we feel we are condoning the actions of the person who caused our suffering, but this is a misunderstanding of what is required. To forgive, we simply need to get to a place where we are ready to stop identifying ourselves with the suffering that was caused to us. Forgiveness is something we do for ourselves, and our forgiveness of others is an extension of our readiness to let go of our pain. Getting to this point begins with fully accepting what has happened. Through this acceptance, we allow ourselves to feel and process our emotions.
It can be helpful to articulate our feelings in writing over days or even weeks. As we allow ourselves to say what we need to say and ask for what we need to heal, we will find that this changes each day. It may be confusing, but it is a sign of progress. At times, we may feel as if we are slogging uphill through dense mud and thick trees, getting nowhere. If we keep going, however, we will reach a summit and see clearly that we are finally free of the past. From here, we recognize that suffering comes from suffering, and compassion for those who have hurt us naturally arises, enhancing our new perspective.
04/27/17
Dropped my daughter off at school. Watching her meander in was awesome.
04/30/17
The Anatomy of Spirit by Caroline Weiss
How great do I want my life to be?
To Anyone Still in the Mess
If you’re in the chaos of a blended family, recovering from domestic violence, or just trying to raise kids while your nervous system is still screaming… I see you. You’re not crazy. You’re surviving.
Your story might not look like anyone else’s. It might not make sense to the people around you. But that doesn’t mean it’s not valid.
This journal is not a tragedy. It’s a map. Of a woman crawling back to herself, moment by moment, entry by entry.
Keep going. The future you is cheering you on.
Strangled In La Jolla 