Painting is Therapeutic??

I love to sit down and paint. I also like the diamond paintings. They take my mind off of the day and allow me to clear my head.

Painting a house is stressful. I thought I would be ok, yet I am already having anxiety around taping the walls off. I guess that is the perfectionist part of me. The bad part is that I need to get the painting done now because new carpet is coming into the room next week. I do not mind drips on the old carpet, but I will on the new.

So, this morning I finished half a room and plan to complete the other half after lunch. I am hoping to get paint on the walls today. Then I can go back to the art that I find relaxing.

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A Whole New Therapy

I really need to begin discussing the details of my trauma in therapy. Now that I do not live by my abusers, I feel like I can finally open up without having to worry about getting triggered on the ride home.

It has been a difficult decision not to call my mom, yet I know that it is for the best. She does not want to have anything to do with me.

I always tried to avoid what happened in therapy. I know that in order to get better I need to relive all of the feelings and details that I can remember.

I will be happy to start completing art work when I get the room finished. That should help some of my parts express themselves.

So Different

It is weird going from a place where there was the constant noise of police sirens and helicopters to a setting where the only sounds are a lawnmower or a passing car. People ask how you are doing and life goes at its own pace.

There is no feeling that at any minute someone is going to break in or that I will see a rat driving home. I have parking as well as spots to relax and calm down.

Things are getting done. My projects right now include shelf liner, sink liner, and a ton of paint. I cannot wait for the kids to see the house. I hope they like it as much as I do.

The ants seem to be slowly dwindling in number. I am excited to see less each time that I look. Some storage is on its way. What seems like a big kitchen is small when you have a husband who loves to cook and is an appliance geek.

My ex is still being difficult with visitation and seems to be taking the opportunity to lesson my visits with the kids if possible. I really do not want to go back to court, yet if I have to I will. I have less than 5 years now until all of the kids are 18. That is a good feeling.

It’s Official

I have finally moved. It is so quiet and the people are so different. They do not seem to be in a constant rush to get things done. Today I am scared because I have no choice but to go out of the house until we have working appliances.

I did not tell my abusers where I was moving. There was some disagreement among parts , yet in the end it was best to just leave all of the physical reminders of the trauma behind.

Not that it helps with the mental piece of the trauma. It is still there. I will be so happy when the house is relatively moved into and I can begin to write and complete art projects again.

The visitation with the kids is going as well as I expected. There is no agreement. In fact, he wants to take visitation away. That is not ok with me. It looks like court may be in the future.

It is nice being in a place where I have a chance for a fresh start. I need to get to know the neighbors. That will be a challenge along with the crazy hours that my husband works during the week. He has been able to get a lot accomplished this weekend.

My next post will most likely be tomorrow since the internet and some of the house is worked out.

Two Weeks

Two weeks until I no longer live surrounded by the ghosts of the past. I will no longer pass the same streets and stores when so many things happened to me.

The new house is so different. Different in a good way. I will get to explore the area. Life is going to be at a different pace. Most places are closed or close early on Sundays.

I wonder what the neighbors will be like. In 10 years I have never really known my neighbors. That may be about to change.

One thing that is staying the same is my therapist. I would not know where to begin with someone else. Trusting others is a big issue for me. At least parts feel like they can finally open up. No one is going to know my abusers.

Touched Home *May Trigger*

The other week I was sent an article that was written by a person whose mother had two stillborn children. My own mother had two stillborn children.

I could relate to the feeling that they were there even though they were not physically present. Having to live up to a standard ideal of who they would have been, yet never were. Living with two ghosts.

In my case I did not have a sibling like the author of the article. I was expected to be perfect and act perfect. To get good grades and do what the other two children would have done had they been there.

Sometimes it was a nightmare. Being beaten over a B on a test or being told that I was not good enough and was a mistake to have. Until this day they are idealized to the point that I have been alienated.

I am not perfect! I have been inpatient in mental hospitals. I have not gone on to do all of the great things that the other two children would have done. I cannot change who I am and am realizing that I will not live up to the ideals that my parents had for them and expected from me.

A Big Leap

Well, we have finally done it! We are moving to a quieter and safer neighborhood. My husband is bringing home boxes to pack. It is exciting and scary. I wonder if people will be friendly and if we will be accepted. I will soon find out.

I seem to be more worried about the stress on the cat than anything else. She is going to go to a new home and she does not like change. At least she will be with us and we can keep her on her schedule.

The kids father is already making a big deal out of this. I hope that it can be worked out without court, yet the track record shows that he prefers the expensive legal route.

Any moving tip or tricks to make moving less stressful and easier are welcome. Thanks in advance.

Another Week

The kids visit is ending and my husband is back to working full time. After the beginning of the week, I will be by myself.

I hate being in my own head and all of the flashbacks that I get. I have been practicing mindfulness at night which seems to help a little. I also do not want to have to fight my ex for my kids.

The house is still sitting here. I feel like it is the same comment over and over. The house is nice yet we decided to go with another one. I am beginning to feel that I will not be able to get out of here!!

Keeping the house clean to show also is not fun. Laundry has been a challenge also with all of the pet hair. I feel like I am cleaning the same place multiple times a day. At least people still want to see it.

We will see how my self harm impulses are after the kids are gone. I have a feeling they are going to increase rapidly.

When???

I have wanted to leave all of the triggers behind from the neighborhood that I live in. I thought that all of the upgrades would have sold our house. Turns out, no one wants it!

I am scared that I am going to be stuck her and I am not sure that I can handle that.

The kids are visiting. Things they do just remind me of how much I miss everyday. Hopefully when they are older they will choose for me to be there.

Sleep has been elusive. I think it is from the work I am trying to do in therapy.

Bad Luck, if No Luck

It seems like it was so hopeful that we were leaving this triggering neighborhood. No more would I see all those places with terrible memories. We even went to look at future homes.

I should have realized that it was not to be. Not with the way that my life has turned out. It would seem that the reality is that I am destined to live by my abusers. Maybe one day that will make me stronger. Today, it just makes me hopeless. My abusers will win again and have no consequences for their actions.

My safety is going to be questionable for a bit. It seems like their was a glimmer that things would change, yet the reality is that no one wants to live here. It is like it is cursed. My mind has to adjust to the fact that things will stay the same and that all of those places that hold memories of past abuse are still there to taunt me.