Living Grateful and Traumatized at the Same Time

It’s Sunday, but it feels like every other day since we’ve been here, and that sameness is starting to wear on me in ways I don’t know how to fix. Sundays are supposed to feel quieter, slower, maybe even a little safer, but instead I’m stuck living grateful and traumatized at the same time. Today doesn’t feel restful at all. It just feels heavy.

My partner’s mom is off work, which means her boyfriend is also home. That also means the arguing has already started, and none of it is actually about today. It’s about the past. Years and years ago. And somehow, we’re all still paying for it.

I hate this feeling of being stuck in a place that is technically safe, but emotionally volatile. I keep asking myself whether gratitude is supposed to cancel out trauma, or if both things are allowed to exist at the same time.

Grateful Does Not Mean Okay

I am grateful that we have a roof over our heads and that the kids are warm, clothed, and fed. I do not take that lightly, especially knowing how quickly circumstances can change.

But I also need to be honest. Living here is not peaceful. It is not stable. And it is absolutely not healthy.

My partner’s mom is not the problem. Not even a little. The problem is her boyfriend, and the resentment he refuses to let go of.

When the Past Is Used as a Weapon

Years ago, before I was in the picture, my partner was married. He struggled with addiction. His mom let him, his then-wife, and their two daughters live with her. They made bad choices, damaged the house, and didn’t pay rent. That is all true.

What is also true is that this was many years ago.

My partner is not on drugs now. He hasn’t been for a very long time. He is not the same person he was back then, not even close. But none of that matters to his mom’s boyfriend. In his eyes, people don’t change. Mistakes are permanent. Growth doesn’t count.

So instead, he holds grudges like weapons and uses them whenever he’s been drinking, which is often.

Watching Someone You Love Be Torn Down

It doesn’t matter what my partner does. It is never enough.

He has been called a moron to his face, screamed at in front of me, and humiliated in front of the kids. One wrong breath, one accidental noise, and it’s enough to set the man off.

It’s gotten so bad that when my partner wakes up in the morning, he leaves the house just to find somewhere else to use the bathroom. Not because he’s being dramatic, but because simply being seen can trigger an outburst.

That alone should tell you how unsafe this feels.

Proof Isn’t Protection

Recently, my partner was asked to clean out the gutters on both the house and the garage. He did exactly that. Knowing how things usually go, he took pictures to prove it.

He was still screamed at for not doing the gutters.

Only after showing the proof did the boyfriend back down, and instead of apologizing to my partner, he apologized to me. That moment stuck with me. Not because I wanted the apology, but because it showed how little respect my partner is given, even when he does everything right.

The Kids See More Than They Should

One night in October, I went upstairs to use the bathroom. My partner was at work. His mom was already in bed. Her boyfriend was drunk.

He started tearing into my partner, calling him a piece of shit and a dumbass, and he did it to me, like I was supposed to agree or just absorb it. I stood there and took it. Anxiety has a way of freezing you in place.

Afterward, I called my partner and told him what happened. I hated being the bearer of that information, but I couldn’t keep it to myself.

There have been other times where his fourteen-year-old daughter has gone upstairs to cook or use the bathroom. The boyfriend thought she was me and started ranting to her about her dad until he realized who he was talking to.

No kid should ever be put in that position.

Living Grateful and Traumatized in the Same Space

This is what living grateful and traumatized looks like for me right now. I can acknowledge that we are housed, fed, and warm while also recognizing that this environment is actively harming us. Gratitude doesn’t erase fear, and survival doesn’t mean safety. Both truths exist at the same time, even when I wish one could cancel out the other.

We Need Out

Getting out of here cannot come soon enough. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, and I worry even more about how it’s affecting the kids. Constant tension changes people. It rewires your nervous system. It makes you feel like you’re always bracing for impact.

I can be grateful and still admit that this situation is harming us. Those two things are not opposites.

Right now, I’m just holding on to the hope that we get approved for a place of our own. A space where silence isn’t scary. Where raised voices aren’t normal. Where the kids can exist without walking on eggshells.

Question:

Have you ever been in a situation where you felt grateful to survive it, but still knew it was hurting you?