Oɴ Mᴀʏ 14, 2016, I experienced my first documented episode after watching a San Francisco Giants game. I felt exhilarated because #54 Sergio Romo was the closer, and he contributed to leading the team to a victory. I remember standing in the shower after the game, feeling confused. Did I wash my hair? I couldn’t recall. After my shower, I went and told Mr. Roberts that I felt confused and repeatedly asked if I had washed my hair.
Mr. Roberts gave me a baby aspirin because he thought I might have had a stroke. We then headed to Kaiser Permanente’s Emergency Department. It took approximately four hours for my memory to return, during which time I repeatedly asked the same questions. Did Romo pitch? Did the Giants win? Each time, Mr. Roberts would direct my attention to the whiteboard, where he had written down the answers. He later said that his voice got hoarse from answering the same questions over and over again.
I realized my memory was returning because I recall looking down my top to ensure I was wearing a bra. It was a sports bra, which explained my comfort. Then I remember the doctor stopping by and casually talking to me. I asked him with incredulity, "And you are?” He had just stopped by five minutes earlier, and I had no memory of it. Mr. Roberts had quite a bit of fun at my expense later on; he had recorded me asking the same questions repeatedly. He was good at recounting the story. It had us all laughing. Mr. Roberts was a natural storyteller -- in more ways than one.
While at the shelter, reflecting on my trip to the emergency department in December 2023, the firefighters had to transport me down the stairs, and the paramedics took me to Kaiser Permanente, where they gave me the pee-wick system to use because standing and walking to the restroom were out of the question. I had been dehydrated and didn’t know it, and I went through three bags of IV fluids during the ambulance ride.
I was connected to machines after they swapped my street clothes in exchange for a hospital gown. After blood was drawn multiple times, they took a fecal sample and performed X-rays. After 17 hours, I was finally diagnosed with avian flu, and they administered Tamiflu, which essentially made me feel a lot better in a relatively short period of time. Plus, I had all those fluids, which I’m sure helped tremendously. I had made a point of drinking plenty of fluids for days before my call to 911, but it was insufficient.
Did I find the firefighters and paramedics easy to deal with? Absolutely, I did. The hospital staff was very professional in their conduct. As I waited to be discharged, I entertained myself by using the ghost hunting apps on my phone. The room was haunted—according to the apps, and I had fun using them.
The most enjoyable times during my shelter stay were in the spring of 2024 when a group of us frequently went to the shoreline to hear live music on weekends. We spent quality time together, shared meals, ran errands, played cards, participated in arts and crafts, attended 12-step meetings, went through personal crises, bought losing lotto tickets, and joked around a lot. Our bond was strong, and I keep in touch with five of our group out of eight. We created lasting memories, and I will always value those moments filled with laughter and sheer joy.
I am now focused on healing the deep emotional scars that dwell within me. Complex post-traumatic stress disorder can feel like it takes on a life of its own. Because it stems from chronic, long-term trauma—often during childhood—it alters the nervous system, beliefs about self and others, and daily coping habits so deeply that the survival responses run automatically in the background of a person's life.
It was during my stay at the shelter that I had three Stellate Ganglion Blocks (SGB) to jumpstart the healing process. I’m still easily triggered, but my reaction isn’t as strong. It has taken me a couple of years just to get to this point where I don’t have what I consider a complete meltdown that involves an awful lot of blaming God.
A SGB treatment involves an injection administered in the side of the neck to block the sympathetic nerve and help reset the nervous system. It is also used to treat long-haul COVID, also known medically as post-acute sequelae of COVID-19 (PASC). For more information, visit the Stella Mental Health website.
After receiving the first Stellate Ganglion Block, I felt relaxed and at peace. The doctor noted that I had a smile on my face, much like when I was reunited with my wonderful bunnies, Jelly Bean and Houdini. I still make rabbit videos when the opportunity presents itself; I just haven’t posted them on TikTok recently. Making rabbit videos of them being well-treated, in a healthy environment, and being loved does my heart a tremendous amount of good. If I had to choose between a Stellate Ganglion Block and bunnies, I would choose the bunnies every time.
As I conclude this last chapter, my aim isn’t to erase the past but to move forward on my healing journey. At the heart of ‘He’s More Than Just a Jerk’ is a commitment to portraying recovery from relationship abuse authentically with an ending that honors both the struggles and the victories.
Coercive control often employs discreet, unseen methods rather than blatant actions, making the task of arranging these chapters quite difficult. The disjointed pieces have served as building blocks to illustrate to myself just how small, isolated events can accumulate over time and lead to significant harm. I feel motivated by the impact that writing this has had on my personal development, and I intend to persist in this healing endeavor.
