I have Everest today, and she is extra rambunctious. She keeps wanting to go outside and play, but I can’t let her because she tends to escape. I did let her out for a few minutes to go to the bathroom, but that’s about all I can safely manage right now.
It’s funny. My mom used to call me rambunctious all the time when I was younger. The word is stuck in my head whenever I see someone or an animal overly excited.
Seeing those old posts from 2010 brought back a lot of flashbacks, and not the good kind. I don’t even know when I found the time to write back then. My ex controlled my time and watched everything I did. The only thing that makes sense is that I must have written while doing homework, which was the only time I was really left alone.
Tommy said I sounded like a completely different person in those posts. Honestly, I feel like a different person now. Back then, I wasn’t allowed any privacy. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without my ex following me. One time, I managed to go by myself by using the kids’ bathroom while he was in the other bathroom. When I came out, he was hiding in the hallway corner like he was trying to catch me doing something. When I asked what he was doing, he said he wanted to see what I was doing. I was in the bathroom. It was beyond unsettling.
That was the reality of my life then. Constant surveillance. Constant accusations. No space to breathe. The only time I was ever away from him was when I was at work, and honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t start showing up there too. Well, of course, he didn’t have a driver’s license, yet expected me to drive him everywhere.
The only time he ever came to my work on his own was when he dropped off my girls while I was on the clock, because the police had shown up at the house. He had gone to a friend’s place to hide from them. I had to clock out immediately to take care of my kids. That moment really marked the beginning of the end. I fought hard to keep him away after that. But I was still scared. Though that part wasn’t in 2010, that was later, in 2014.
Back in 2010, I was constantly sick. My anxiety was so intense that I would break out in rashes all over my body. Things were really bad. He constantly pressured me for sex, whether it had just happened or I said no, it didn’t matter. He would force it anyway. He would rape me. I was so physically and mentally affected that doctors even did a biopsy on me because they were concerned that something more serious was wrong. One doctor tried to speak with me alone, but my ex refused to leave the room.
His drinking and drug use kept getting worse, and I was the one paying for it, literally and otherwise. If I didn’t, I’d be punished and told I wasn’t taking care of him.
But the gaslighting. That really broke my sense of reality. Things would happen, and he would twist them so thoroughly that I truly believed I was the problem. That I was losing my mind. I thought something was deeply wrong with me. And yes, I do have mental health conditions. I have bipolar disorder, PTSD, Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder, and ADHD, but I don’t have psychosis. Still, the way he manipulated reality made me question everything about myself.
Looking back now, I understand something I couldn’t see then: I wasn’t losing my mind. I was reacting to being controlled, isolated, and harmed.
There’s a difference.
Reading those old posts, I can see what Tommy meant. I do sound like a different person. But I don’t think that’s something to grieve. I think it’s something to recognize. Because I’m not that person anymore.
But I had to come to a couple of realizations last night and give myself some grace. None of what happened was my fault. I couldn’t get away unless he was taken to jail, and that is exactly what happened. But it wasn’t easy even after he went to prison. I thought I could be myself again, but I found out that I didn’t know who I even was. I was being controlled for so long that I had forgotten who I was. My anxiety went through the roof. I was so scared that I had to sleep with the light on at night. I left all the lights on in my house. I didn’t want to be in the dark.
I went to a therapist. I only had one visit with the therapist. She gave me Xanax and sent me on my way. I never had another visit with her. The appointment was so awkward. And the fact that she gave me medication after the first visit was a bit weird. I know my anxiety was bad, but to get medication that quickly was odd. The medication made me so sleepy that I had to stop taking it. I couldn’t function.
I feel drained right now, but there’s also this quiet sense of relief underneath it all. Relief that I’m no longer in that situation, that it’s behind me. And at the same time, I’m exhausted from how often my mind pulls me back there. The flashbacks take energy out of me, like I’m reliving something I’ve already survived.
I wish my mind would stay here, in the present, where things are safer. But it keeps drifting back to the trauma, replaying moments I don’t want to revisit. It’s frustrating to know I’m free from it, yet still feel its weight in my body and thoughts. Like, part of me hasn’t caught up to the reality that it’s over.
I haven’t done a lot of studying today. I did a few quizzes. Now it’s time to move on to another topic on my quizzes. I can’t stay on one topic forever. There are many terms I must go through. I’m going to make myself some tea and read a bit. Tommy is going to band practice tonight. I think I will watch some videos and get some reading in.
Tomorrow we have an appointment at the post office for Lexi’s passport. I’m also wondering if we should go ahead and get Krissy a passport book, right now; she only has the card, and I’m not sure if that’ll be enough for future travel.
I’m thinking about how we are going to get Karissa to her old school as well, so she can stop by the financial aid office and pick up the forms she needs for her current school.
Yesterday was a tough day for Alexis. She got a call from the financial institution managing her settlement from her dad’s accident, asking what she wants to do with the money, whether to keep receiving income as it is or withdraw it. It completely overwhelmed her. She felt pressured to make a big decision on the spot without knowing what the right choice was, and she ended up in tears. I felt for her in that moment and wondered if I should have stepped in and handled the call.
Later, she spoke with her school, and they told her they’d call her next week. That upset her too; everything just felt uncertain and out of her control. I suggested that instead of waiting, she take the initiative to call them herself next week so she’s not left hanging.
It was just one of those days where everything piled up at once. Alexis seems to be doing much better today.
