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.
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.
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.
Packing up somewhere sounds like it will be easy. Then the packing begins, and all of these old memories come up. Suddenly, things that have not been seen have meaning. The house actually becomes more of a mess as trash is separated from keep. Then, there is the I have no idea pile. At least I know that progress is being made.
I overreacted with my daughter yesterday. She was playing with all of the other kids. There was an adult around who reminded me of the past and freaked me out. I yelled at my daughter to come sit by where I was. I cannot explain the panic and fear that took over me in that moment. I do not ever want her to have negative experiences if I can prevent it.
Maybe I have been through to much and have done to much research. A person can still be a pedophile if they have kids or if they are older. There is not just one description. I do not care if they are at the same party, a background check was not done to get into the party and something could happen.
Luckily, my daughter and I had a productive talk last night about the incident and I assured her that it was nothing that she did.
Today means more packing and getting the house ready for pictures. Should be a busy day.
Our family is looking at moving out of the area where I was abused. In some ways it is scary. In other ways I am looking forward to be able to go out of the house and maybe explore a new area.
It will be weird to not be by my abusers and to not have to come back to the neighborhood. I feel like my life is going to get a second chance and I cannot ruin it. Maybe going back to school at different college with a different viewpoint will help.
My family can make new memories at a new place that may allow me to finally get well and recover. I will be able to still see my treatment team. I will try to keep the blog updated. Especially when we find a house and have a contract.
My husband and I are looking to move. If I were “normal”, I would have a job and income to use for the paperwork. Unfortunately, my PTSD symptoms are not controlled. I still have panic attacks around people and places that I do not know. My short term memory is messed up. I swear that is from the ECT.
And then there is the feeling of anger that I try to suppress each day so that I can at least get through the day.
Because of the complications from my mental illness, we may just have to stay where we are and I am going to have to learn to be ok with that. It just sucks that I am such a large part of the problem.
Some people would bring up getting damages from my abusers, yet the statute of limitations has passed. It still makes me feel like I am limited each day due to the symptoms of my illness.
No one chooses to be abused as a child or suppress those memories. Yet, it seems like we are blamed when we cannot hold a job or function as everyone else does. We fought a fight that we did not choose, yet we get blamed. Why didn’t you just tell someone or why did you not move out. I wish it were that easy. If I would have told, things would have been much worse. I was frozen for so long. I just did as they said to not rock the boat. It was not really a choice, it was a way to get through each day with the least amount of pain.
I just wish recovery would happen sooner. It just seems to take so long and involve so many aspects of my life. I just have to do what I can. Keep going to the doctors and seeing my therapist. One step at a time!
My therapist has a new goal for me: to say hello to people at counters and restaurants. I have become an expert at being invisible over the years. It has led to not having friends and isolating myself inside the house.
I like the house, it is safe and I feel comfortable. I feel like a freak outside. My scars are so noticeable from all of the self harm. I am going to try to have one removed or at least decrease the size.
Therapy is going ok. My therapist and I have come to the realization that my feelings are buried so far down, they may never come up. We are working on trying to feel in the present. That is hard as well. I am used to shutting down.
Right now I am just trying to take one day at a time and know that I did the best that I could each night before I go to sleep.
Maybe I will be able to make friends. There is always hope!
Why does therapy have to be so difficult. I wish that I did not have to go through hell and feel all of my emotions associated with the abuse I had growing up.
Not that not being in therapy would help either. I still have flashbacks when there are certain colors or smells. Locations are the worst. These are not dependent on therapy.
At least a horror movie can be turned off. Not so with memories. They haunt me while awake and asleep. PTSD has taken so much from me. I am always scared to be out of the house and am hyper vigilant. I try to go out and be “normal” yet I have scars that are visible and I am always looking around me waiting for the next event to happen.
Maybe one day I will be able to relax and process all of the horrible things that happened.
On Mother’s Day I had lunch with my husband and the kids. We had played games the day before and it was a great weekend. I had decided that I wanted to visit the cemetery to put a wreath on the graves of the two women in my life that had acted more like a mom to me than my mother.
I have always felt guilty that I was not there when they died. That I did not get to say goodbye. I have carried that feeling around for over twenty years.
When we arrived at the cemetery, I told the kids that they could stay in the car. They did at first, then they came up to the headstones. I was surprised as I looked in back of me. Here were two kids who even if they wanted to go somewhere could not drive and still needed a parents permission.
That is when it hit me. I could not have physically gone to my aunt’s house. There was no one to take me there. I was not allowed to call my aunt or speak to her if I saw her. Seeing my kids gave me a new perspective. One that made me realize that I did not have a say in what I was allowed to do. I still feel bad that I was not there, yet in my heart, I know I did not have a choice. One wall that for years that has been blocking my recovery is slowly coming down.
Sitting here thinking about life is challenging. I feel like I need to make a pros and cons list for continuing to go on.
The kids are a big factor. All of the research shows that a child whose parent commits suicide is more likely to do so. I would not want my kids to get into this dark space.
So much has failed including school, losing touch with one of my children, and constant court cases with my ex. All of this has left me drained. I feel alone no matter how many people are in a room. What do I even talk about with people. The kids are a hard subject and school was a disaster.
People do not want to hear about hospital stays and wound care centers. I believe that eating disorder treatment centers are also not at the top of the list. Those are the topics that I know best at this point.
Maybe a better option would be to talk about the diamond paintings that I have done or the garden that my husband is working on. Yet, those topics do not feel like me at this time. One day blends into another.
What to do? Going back to school is going to be rough. I feel like I am on a never ending ride in that department. Keep seeing the kids until they too realize how damaged and flawed I am. Continue to talk about the worst memories of my life in therapy.
This is not the life that I pictured. Not even close. Being a non-custodial parent was something that I did not even know existed. Failing at school because of an illness that I did not choose and is directly related to negative childhood experiences. Living in a neighborhood where I do not feel safe. Even as I write this there are helicopters circling the block.
One day I need to make a choice. I cannot live in between any longer. There needs to be a clear side to work on and pursue.