I was talking to my mom today and she said, "Ever since X brought that gun to your house you live in the one percent." I had to think about it for a minute, but she's right. I go through life now expecting the rare, the unforeseen, the weird accidental mishap.
A situation recently came up where a friend was trying to work out what do with their kiddo(s) while they went out on a late date. The original idea was to leave the teen home alone. Most likely everything would be just fine. Realistically I understand this. However I started to worry. Then my mind went to all the "what ifs" that could happen. And being me, I had to say something. I just couldn't let it go.
What if there was a fire, not even at their place... but next door?
What if she had to be evacuated for a gas leak, or some other area disaster?
What if the dog got out and the kiddo had to try and chase her down when it was dark and a busy body neighbor saw, and then called the police to complain?
What if there was a prowler or someone decided to mess with the vehicle left there?
What if, after the fact the kid was sort of bragging to friends about getting to be home alone and a concerned parent decides to pass judgement and make trouble? Or if the child says something in ear shot of a teacher who does the same?
Two years ago I lived in the 99%... I always thought these things happen to other people. I never had encountered any kind of significant violence at the hands of someone I trusted. I hadn't ever really been surprised by someones choices and behavior. Then my estranged husband brought a gun to my house. He did something I would have never expected.
My mother, Ethel, and my sister in law were all telling me to get a restraining order. I heard, "most likely nothing will ever happen, but you need to be safe and cautious. You need to take care of yourself." I didn't listen.
The 1% chance that my X would lose it came to pass. And now, as a result, I find myself living in that one percent. I find myself going to worse case scenario. If I have a quarter of a tank of gas and I run into traffic I start to feel all panicked and convince myself that I'll run out of gas out of cell phone range.
If the dog throws up I start thinking it's going into liver failure. If I smell smoke I think fire... never burned popcorn....I understand why, I just don't know how to deal with it. I'm not proud of it. It's certainly not something I enjoy.
I see a self help book in my future...
Showing posts with label Therapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Therapy. Show all posts
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
God, this killed me...
My Ex likes to tell anyone who will listen that he never did anything to hurt our kids. He has declared to the court, the police, therapists, family and friends over and over that he was the victim in all of this and that the kids have no reason to be upset.
This is a draft of my 13 year old's final for Language Arts. She is supposed to write a vignette about a moment in her life that changed her. The spelling is horrible, but hey, that's not Chef's strong point. This is also just her first draft. Reading it was very powerful for me. I cried my eyes out.... it makes me hate that man with a passion I feel for no other living person.
********************************************
People are like oxygen, we need them, they surround us, giving us light and energy. Sometimes that light disappears, and other times, it gets taken away.
He left us in the white van the smell of upholster and rain dampen concrete invading my senses. The sound of the traffic coming by blasted my ears with wanting, wanting to be somewhere, anywhere else. I joke on the outside my sisters young smiling faces making the gnawing fear a little more bearable each second. Until I saw them, they came one by one with packages, big, tall, wrapped up and hiding the deathly thing that lays inside. The sign of the gun shop will always be burned into my mind.
He lays there like nothings wrong, twirling the bullet casing in his fingers like it's all a joke, like it's not something sick and wrong, like it's an innocent toy or play thing. I watch it glint in the sunlight and listen to my sisters sobs, rubbing her back reassuringly, while my mind is trying to stay calm and not hear the words coming out of his mouth. It scared me relentlessly, what he's saying so rationally, about something so wrong.
The gun was loaded, car was ready, alaby set, his footsteps thunder with finality as he walked through the door, and hopefully, out of my life. The clock strikes seven, the days long gone, I still hear those footsteps song as he steps out of the door with finality. I didn't think he could do it, I didn't think he would try, but then again, people aren't always what you think.
This is a draft of my 13 year old's final for Language Arts. She is supposed to write a vignette about a moment in her life that changed her. The spelling is horrible, but hey, that's not Chef's strong point. This is also just her first draft. Reading it was very powerful for me. I cried my eyes out.... it makes me hate that man with a passion I feel for no other living person.
********************************************
People are like oxygen, we need them, they surround us, giving us light and energy. Sometimes that light disappears, and other times, it gets taken away.
He left us in the white van the smell of upholster and rain dampen concrete invading my senses. The sound of the traffic coming by blasted my ears with wanting, wanting to be somewhere, anywhere else. I joke on the outside my sisters young smiling faces making the gnawing fear a little more bearable each second. Until I saw them, they came one by one with packages, big, tall, wrapped up and hiding the deathly thing that lays inside. The sign of the gun shop will always be burned into my mind.
He lays there like nothings wrong, twirling the bullet casing in his fingers like it's all a joke, like it's not something sick and wrong, like it's an innocent toy or play thing. I watch it glint in the sunlight and listen to my sisters sobs, rubbing her back reassuringly, while my mind is trying to stay calm and not hear the words coming out of his mouth. It scared me relentlessly, what he's saying so rationally, about something so wrong.
The gun was loaded, car was ready, alaby set, his footsteps thunder with finality as he walked through the door, and hopefully, out of my life. The clock strikes seven, the days long gone, I still hear those footsteps song as he steps out of the door with finality. I didn't think he could do it, I didn't think he would try, but then again, people aren't always what you think.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
11 days
I heard today that unless my X blows a fuse and does something stupid he'll be released from prison on March 6th.
11 days from now the man I'm terrified of will be free and clear. No parole. No monitoring. Complete freedom.
I'm trying really hard to keep it together. I don't want BLT or the kids to see me lose it, so I keep it all inside. I'm afraid if I give into my fear it will take over and I won't be able to pull myself out of it. I'm not taking any anxiety meds or anything like that. I'm not a generally anxious person....I'm a person with a very specific fear.
The nightmares have started again - but BLT is always there to pull me close and help sooth me back to sleep. I have to have faith that he'll be there with me while I go through all of this.
Ethel told me today that Fred was able to obtain a couple photos of my X for me to give to the kids' schools and day care center. The idea of seeing a picture was enough to start a panic attack. I haven't laid eyes on him since that night 19 months ago. I'm really afraid to, to be honest. I'm afraid to look at those photos. Does that make me weak?
I don't want to be weak. I want to be strong and fearless. I want to be brave for my girls. I'm not running away. I'm not hiding in my bed. But I feel anything but fearless these days.
11 days from now the man I'm terrified of will be free and clear. No parole. No monitoring. Complete freedom.
I'm trying really hard to keep it together. I don't want BLT or the kids to see me lose it, so I keep it all inside. I'm afraid if I give into my fear it will take over and I won't be able to pull myself out of it. I'm not taking any anxiety meds or anything like that. I'm not a generally anxious person....I'm a person with a very specific fear.
The nightmares have started again - but BLT is always there to pull me close and help sooth me back to sleep. I have to have faith that he'll be there with me while I go through all of this.
Ethel told me today that Fred was able to obtain a couple photos of my X for me to give to the kids' schools and day care center. The idea of seeing a picture was enough to start a panic attack. I haven't laid eyes on him since that night 19 months ago. I'm really afraid to, to be honest. I'm afraid to look at those photos. Does that make me weak?
I don't want to be weak. I want to be strong and fearless. I want to be brave for my girls. I'm not running away. I'm not hiding in my bed. But I feel anything but fearless these days.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men.
I'm reading this book as a part of my therapy. In all honesty I started out doubting that this book really applied to me. You see I knew my X was mean to me. I recognized that he treated me very disrespectfully- but he didn't hit me. I didn't identify myself as a "victim" or an "abused woman".
Part of what I'm struggling with, emotionally, is that I feel this need to prove myself right or correct. I give detailed accounts and suffer a great deal of anxiety when I feel like people don't believe me - or if my version of events is questioned. I can't figure out why its so important for me, why I have a desperate need to be approved of and believed.... my Dr. believes it's a long standing issue developed from having to constantly stand my ground with my X and argue my worth in an effort to gain respect - which I never managed to achieve.
It's becoming clearer to me that manipulation and mental abuse is just as dangerous to a person's well being as physical abuse. If you suffer a bruise or a broken bone there are people all over the place who will encourage you to leave him - to offer support and assistance. When your abuser uses words, intimidation, financial pressures, and disrespect it's easily hidden and many will tell you to "work it out for the sake of the kids" or if he's truly manipulative he'll seem friendly and generous of spirit to those outside of his marriage and they simply won't believe he's capable of being abusive.
How many women hear "He's such a good father, you're so lucky" as though that's an excuse to bully, disrespect, and hurt you behind doors. One of the chapters in this book deals with the "good father" who is abusive to his wife - and how many of us will overlook our own hardships for the sake of our kids.... but it's all a big lie. Because a good father treats his wife with respect at all times. A good father is a partner and a supporter to showcase to his children how they should expect to be treated in their adult relationships. Plus, kids see and know more than we give them credit for. They wake up hearing angry voices at night, or catch glimpses of tears when we don't know they're looking. My X left my girls with a horrible example of how a man treats his children and his wife. All I can hope is that I do better by them in the future and I find a masculine roll model that shows them love, respect, patience, and strength at ALL times, not just when life is easy and there isn't any kind of stress or conflict.
I think BLT is that kind of man. All of the warning signs identified in this book are exact opposites of his daily behavior and choices. He's kind above all - even when other's aren't looking. He's mature, respectful, patient, generous with time and open to laugh - even at himself. He accepts responsibility for his actions and apologizes if he's in the wrong.
My goal is to identify how my behavior changed over the years in response to mental and emotional abuse, and then figure out WHY I do the things I do so that I don't repeat the mistakes I've made in the past. I think a large part of it is simply accepting that I was in fact mistreated, and then accepting my own value so that I don't allow myself to treated this way again.
Now if it were just that simple... but I'm trying. I'm growing. I'm learning.
Part of what I'm struggling with, emotionally, is that I feel this need to prove myself right or correct. I give detailed accounts and suffer a great deal of anxiety when I feel like people don't believe me - or if my version of events is questioned. I can't figure out why its so important for me, why I have a desperate need to be approved of and believed.... my Dr. believes it's a long standing issue developed from having to constantly stand my ground with my X and argue my worth in an effort to gain respect - which I never managed to achieve.
It's becoming clearer to me that manipulation and mental abuse is just as dangerous to a person's well being as physical abuse. If you suffer a bruise or a broken bone there are people all over the place who will encourage you to leave him - to offer support and assistance. When your abuser uses words, intimidation, financial pressures, and disrespect it's easily hidden and many will tell you to "work it out for the sake of the kids" or if he's truly manipulative he'll seem friendly and generous of spirit to those outside of his marriage and they simply won't believe he's capable of being abusive.
How many women hear "He's such a good father, you're so lucky" as though that's an excuse to bully, disrespect, and hurt you behind doors. One of the chapters in this book deals with the "good father" who is abusive to his wife - and how many of us will overlook our own hardships for the sake of our kids.... but it's all a big lie. Because a good father treats his wife with respect at all times. A good father is a partner and a supporter to showcase to his children how they should expect to be treated in their adult relationships. Plus, kids see and know more than we give them credit for. They wake up hearing angry voices at night, or catch glimpses of tears when we don't know they're looking. My X left my girls with a horrible example of how a man treats his children and his wife. All I can hope is that I do better by them in the future and I find a masculine roll model that shows them love, respect, patience, and strength at ALL times, not just when life is easy and there isn't any kind of stress or conflict.
I think BLT is that kind of man. All of the warning signs identified in this book are exact opposites of his daily behavior and choices. He's kind above all - even when other's aren't looking. He's mature, respectful, patient, generous with time and open to laugh - even at himself. He accepts responsibility for his actions and apologizes if he's in the wrong.
My goal is to identify how my behavior changed over the years in response to mental and emotional abuse, and then figure out WHY I do the things I do so that I don't repeat the mistakes I've made in the past. I think a large part of it is simply accepting that I was in fact mistreated, and then accepting my own value so that I don't allow myself to treated this way again.
Now if it were just that simple... but I'm trying. I'm growing. I'm learning.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Getting What I Deserve
“The minute you settle for less than you deserve, you get even less than you settled for.” ~Maureen Dowd
Did you see that Ethel? This applies to both of us Love.
Doctor Feelgood - a.k.a. my therapist says that I have a case of self loathing going on. Its all wrapped up in my guilt over the way X found out about BLT, about the kids pain and all the drama and trauma they've gone through, and my own type A need for perfection.
Whew, that's a lot to deal with - drama, guilt, pain, and the need for perfection.... I'll be in therapy for years at this rate. I have a long history of accepting less than what I deserve, because I struggle with the idea that I actually DO deserve good things. I've never felt smart enough, or pretty enough, or talented enough. I settled for a marriage to someone I didn't really love because a part of me thought it was better to have someone, than to be alone... that it was the best I could ask for because I didn't deserve better.
I let him disrespect me. I let him call me bitch in front of my children. I let him get out of being a full time father so that I didn't make waves. I didn't leave when I knew I was never going to be happy with him - because a part of me didn't think I was able, or worthy of better.
So, I'm writing it down so that it's out there. I deserve happiness. I deserve love. I deserve to be trusted and to have someone I can put my trust in. I deserve better this time around, and I won't settle for less.
At some point I have to start letting go of the guilt especially. It's the one thing that holds me back the most, the one thing that makes me doubt myself. I made mistakes, but those mistakes do not have to define me. I don't have to punish myself, or expect less for myself because of them. What I struggle with the most is that I fell in love with another man at the end of difficult and self destructive marriage and I had an affair. It was not the reason for my divorce, but it was a symptom of the cancer in our marriage. And while I don't regret being with BLT, it is not a choice I would ever make again. At heart I'm a one man woman.
I'm honest about the affair. Once it was out in the open I didn't make excuses because I believe in taking responsibility for your choices. I've been drug through the mud, humiliated, belittled, gossipped about, and questioned more times than I can say. I lost respect, and I lost friendships. My X made it a point to tell his version of the facts to every friend, family member, neighbor, co-worker, and random stranger who would listen. He exaggerated, embellished, and manipulated. It was humiliating to have all my personal business out there for everyone's entertainment. For the love of God he even told our Schwan's delivery guy, the real estate agent who sold us our house, and people he met online.... and all of those are the consequences for my choices. I can live with that.
But I'm not going to keep letting him punish me forever, and I'm not going to keep punishing myself. If former friends no longer want to be in my life, then so be it. I personally do not judge my friends by their mistakes - but by how they respond and deal with them after the fact.
I'm going to keep working on accepting myself and letting go of the guilt. I'm going to start asking for what I want, and expecting good things to come into my life, and I'm going to work on believing that I deserve to be happy.
Did you see that Ethel? This applies to both of us Love.
Doctor Feelgood - a.k.a. my therapist says that I have a case of self loathing going on. Its all wrapped up in my guilt over the way X found out about BLT, about the kids pain and all the drama and trauma they've gone through, and my own type A need for perfection.
Whew, that's a lot to deal with - drama, guilt, pain, and the need for perfection.... I'll be in therapy for years at this rate. I have a long history of accepting less than what I deserve, because I struggle with the idea that I actually DO deserve good things. I've never felt smart enough, or pretty enough, or talented enough. I settled for a marriage to someone I didn't really love because a part of me thought it was better to have someone, than to be alone... that it was the best I could ask for because I didn't deserve better.
I let him disrespect me. I let him call me bitch in front of my children. I let him get out of being a full time father so that I didn't make waves. I didn't leave when I knew I was never going to be happy with him - because a part of me didn't think I was able, or worthy of better.
So, I'm writing it down so that it's out there. I deserve happiness. I deserve love. I deserve to be trusted and to have someone I can put my trust in. I deserve better this time around, and I won't settle for less.
At some point I have to start letting go of the guilt especially. It's the one thing that holds me back the most, the one thing that makes me doubt myself. I made mistakes, but those mistakes do not have to define me. I don't have to punish myself, or expect less for myself because of them. What I struggle with the most is that I fell in love with another man at the end of difficult and self destructive marriage and I had an affair. It was not the reason for my divorce, but it was a symptom of the cancer in our marriage. And while I don't regret being with BLT, it is not a choice I would ever make again. At heart I'm a one man woman.
I'm honest about the affair. Once it was out in the open I didn't make excuses because I believe in taking responsibility for your choices. I've been drug through the mud, humiliated, belittled, gossipped about, and questioned more times than I can say. I lost respect, and I lost friendships. My X made it a point to tell his version of the facts to every friend, family member, neighbor, co-worker, and random stranger who would listen. He exaggerated, embellished, and manipulated. It was humiliating to have all my personal business out there for everyone's entertainment. For the love of God he even told our Schwan's delivery guy, the real estate agent who sold us our house, and people he met online.... and all of those are the consequences for my choices. I can live with that.
But I'm not going to keep letting him punish me forever, and I'm not going to keep punishing myself. If former friends no longer want to be in my life, then so be it. I personally do not judge my friends by their mistakes - but by how they respond and deal with them after the fact.
I'm going to keep working on accepting myself and letting go of the guilt. I'm going to start asking for what I want, and expecting good things to come into my life, and I'm going to work on believing that I deserve to be happy.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Therapy, Kids, and Court
Therapy for the kids and I is going well. It's hard for me to hear their pain described in their own words - but it's so beneficial for all of us.
Chef has discussed her self inflicted vomiting and the use of continued self harm to manipulate people with her therapist, and I've seen a big improvement with her attitude and a reduction in the number of angry silent bouts of depression.
Lady Bug is working with the therapist to try and decide if she even wants to see or have contact with the X when he's released. Not that she'll have much of a say - but for her own piece of mind and mental health she should come to a decision to alleviate all this anxiety. She feels better knowing that it's okay and normal to feel conflicted. It's okay for her to still love her dad, but to be afraid of him and disappointed in him. It doesn't make her a bad kid. She really struggles with that.
My own therapy is more exhausting than anything else. I'm working on retraining my body and mind to not have a huge adrenaline rush every time something startling happens. It's like my body goes to instant "fight or flight" at the slightest provocation. I've been told it's a pretty typical PTSD symptom, but that I can re-train my body to react differently.
I head back to court the first week in November. I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm trying to remove his rights to send letters to the kids, and to extend the Order of Protection for another year. This will allow him to get out of jail, and then have 7 months to get his life together, and to get some counseling of his own before he has access to the kids. I don't think it's unreasonable to expect him to get mental health treatment - I mean the kids and I are all getting help, why shouldn't the person who caused all this be required to do the same? I'm hoping the court sees the wisdom in this request.
Part of me is very worried because his uber pricey law team requested a continuance in order to "formulate their rebuttal". What in the word could they possibly rebut? I have the threatening letter he sent, there is proof that he's refused all mental health counseling while in prison. He made threats to take the children and disappear on several occasions. I can't imagine what they possibly have up their sleeves, and that not knowing makes me nuts.
I guess all I can do is show up and plead my case to the best of my ability and pray for the best.
Chef has discussed her self inflicted vomiting and the use of continued self harm to manipulate people with her therapist, and I've seen a big improvement with her attitude and a reduction in the number of angry silent bouts of depression.
Lady Bug is working with the therapist to try and decide if she even wants to see or have contact with the X when he's released. Not that she'll have much of a say - but for her own piece of mind and mental health she should come to a decision to alleviate all this anxiety. She feels better knowing that it's okay and normal to feel conflicted. It's okay for her to still love her dad, but to be afraid of him and disappointed in him. It doesn't make her a bad kid. She really struggles with that.
My own therapy is more exhausting than anything else. I'm working on retraining my body and mind to not have a huge adrenaline rush every time something startling happens. It's like my body goes to instant "fight or flight" at the slightest provocation. I've been told it's a pretty typical PTSD symptom, but that I can re-train my body to react differently.
I head back to court the first week in November. I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm trying to remove his rights to send letters to the kids, and to extend the Order of Protection for another year. This will allow him to get out of jail, and then have 7 months to get his life together, and to get some counseling of his own before he has access to the kids. I don't think it's unreasonable to expect him to get mental health treatment - I mean the kids and I are all getting help, why shouldn't the person who caused all this be required to do the same? I'm hoping the court sees the wisdom in this request.
Part of me is very worried because his uber pricey law team requested a continuance in order to "formulate their rebuttal". What in the word could they possibly rebut? I have the threatening letter he sent, there is proof that he's refused all mental health counseling while in prison. He made threats to take the children and disappear on several occasions. I can't imagine what they possibly have up their sleeves, and that not knowing makes me nuts.
I guess all I can do is show up and plead my case to the best of my ability and pray for the best.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
I'm Being Punished
My 13 year old is punishing me. We are not talking. Chef decided to stay in her room and refused to come out and eat dinner with us.
Chef has started making herself throw up. Not only is there an unhealthy obsession with her weight... which is not a problem by the way, but she has, shall we say, developed earlier than most of her peers. She's curvy.
She is also doing this as a stress reliever. With everything we've been through (separation, divorce, her father trying to shoot me and going to jail, being nearly homeless, changing schools three times in one year, and moving four times, loosing her friends and support system) well... I see why she's feeling stressed. That still doesn't make it okay. She's starting to see a counselor this Wednesday and we will be discussing this.
I'm not forcing her to eat - but I'm closely monitoring her behavior. Her friends and siblings are also aware of what happened and we are all keeping an eye on her. She says she is no longer doing that and she understands how unhealthy it is - but I'm still hauling her ass into the therapist's office this week.
Well today Chef used the threat of making herself throw up to manipulate her sibling into doing something. I was called at work and told about it. We had very stern words. I told her in no uncertain terms that she is not allowed to use threat of self harm to manipulate people... that was exactly what her father did to all of us for over a month before be brought that gun to my house - and that it's pure evil. I told her that if she ever did that again she would be grounded until the end of the school year, and by grounded I mean no cell phone, no laptop, no after school dances, no football games, no parties.
Home, School, and Therapy will be her whole life for the next 8 months if she continues this behavior. That seemed to put the fear of God into her. I think she understands when I told her that I've never been more angry or more disappointed in her. When I got home I made her do some household chores and we had further words because of her attitude. After that she decided to hide in her room. When I checked on her she had fallen asleep.
For tonight I think it's best that we are not talking to each other. In the morning light I'll tell her that I love her. I'll tell her that I expect better from her, and that I don't want to fight with her...but I will fight FOR her. I will fight for her benefit because I love her enough to do what's right - even if if doesn't make me popular.
Chef has started making herself throw up. Not only is there an unhealthy obsession with her weight... which is not a problem by the way, but she has, shall we say, developed earlier than most of her peers. She's curvy.
She is also doing this as a stress reliever. With everything we've been through (separation, divorce, her father trying to shoot me and going to jail, being nearly homeless, changing schools three times in one year, and moving four times, loosing her friends and support system) well... I see why she's feeling stressed. That still doesn't make it okay. She's starting to see a counselor this Wednesday and we will be discussing this.
I'm not forcing her to eat - but I'm closely monitoring her behavior. Her friends and siblings are also aware of what happened and we are all keeping an eye on her. She says she is no longer doing that and she understands how unhealthy it is - but I'm still hauling her ass into the therapist's office this week.
Well today Chef used the threat of making herself throw up to manipulate her sibling into doing something. I was called at work and told about it. We had very stern words. I told her in no uncertain terms that she is not allowed to use threat of self harm to manipulate people... that was exactly what her father did to all of us for over a month before be brought that gun to my house - and that it's pure evil. I told her that if she ever did that again she would be grounded until the end of the school year, and by grounded I mean no cell phone, no laptop, no after school dances, no football games, no parties.
Home, School, and Therapy will be her whole life for the next 8 months if she continues this behavior. That seemed to put the fear of God into her. I think she understands when I told her that I've never been more angry or more disappointed in her. When I got home I made her do some household chores and we had further words because of her attitude. After that she decided to hide in her room. When I checked on her she had fallen asleep.
For tonight I think it's best that we are not talking to each other. In the morning light I'll tell her that I love her. I'll tell her that I expect better from her, and that I don't want to fight with her...but I will fight FOR her. I will fight for her benefit because I love her enough to do what's right - even if if doesn't make me popular.
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