Do they ever really go away?

It has been over 2 years since I last saw my abuser. A lot has changed in that time. Unfortunately, more has stayed the same than I like to admit - my healing process is lagging far behind my expectations. Even in that, I push myself to be an overacheiver, and it is disheartening that I am not meeting my own expectations. Every one tells me, give it time, things will get better. Well, goddamn it, 2 years seems like plenty of time, and I want it to be better right now. I am tired of being this way. I just want to be normal. Unfortunately, normal seems like an unreachable goal. I really have my doubts that I will ever be what I consider to be "normal" ever again.

The real reason for this post is that my ex (hereafter known as Knucklehead) has been resurfacing a bit lately. He is currently serving a 5 year sentence in state prison for child molestation (he has served a total of 8 days in prison for all of the abuse against me). I have a civil restraining order against him that covers me and my children, and the divorce granted me complete physical and legal custody, and no visitation rights to him. When he first went to prison in August 2006, he wrote me and the kids laughable letters (apparently, he has done nothing wrong in the eyes of the Lord, and he forgives me for all that I have done to hurt him, and knows that I will be waiting for him, so we can resume our happy family life together when he gets out. And he told the kids that I am the reason he is no longer in their life, and that he is in prison now. As if I wasn't going to read the letters if I had any intention of giving them to the kids at all. Which I did not). I made a call to the prison, and they nipped that in the bud straight away.

Recently we have started getting letters addressed to the kids from Knucklehead's father, a.) as if I would give them to the kids, and b.) leave us the heck alone already! Knucklehead's family had next to nothing to do with our children when we were together, and has completely disappeared off the map for the past 2+ years. And now they want to be involved with them?! Uh, no way. So, the letters have been returned to sender. They have been re-sent 2 more times since, and again returned. And they will continue to be returned no matter how many times they come back. I suppose if it continues, I will have to take a more direct approach. But I'm hoping if I keep sending them back, he will give up. He is as toxic as his son, and I would prefer not to have anything to do with him.

On top of that, there was a man in front of us in line at the post office last weekend that bore a striking resemblance to Knucklehead. It was all I could do to force myself to stay in line, and not have a panic attack. Once outside, my older son indicated that he had noticed him too, and it "totally creeped him out." Which was, sadly, a relief to hear. Sometimes I just need confirmation that I'm not totally off my rocker for the way I feel.

My Latest Dysfunctionality

I realized this weekend an increasing aversion to being around other people. For the better part of a year, I have been struggling with an intense lonliness. Since I got out of the forced isolation that was imposed by my ex, I haven't repopulated my life with friends. When I was forcibly isolated, I would seek out the company of others, even at the risk of my safety. Mind you, I've never been a particularly social person, never had a huge number of friends to begin with. But now, there are a total of zero. None. Outside of my SO, I have nobody. On Saturday, he had some friends in town visiting, and invited me to hang out since they are a couple of moms. I was so uncomfortable and felt so out of place. I did everything I could not to have anything to do with these women. I sat by myself, or in the car, I absorbed myself in my book. After the kids finished skateboarding, we were all going to go to dinner together, but I wimped out and came home to be by myself. I see myself doing the same thing in other situations. At the gym, or in yoga, I do my exercises and go home - no socializing. Even looking people in the eye or any sort of social gesture is very hard for me with people I don't already know. It's interesting, because if I have a reason to interact with someone, say for work, I am fine. I can interact with my customers, co-workers, etc with no problem. However, things like making unsolicited phone calls are tough. I over analyze, get myself worked up about it, and end up feeling totally panicked and doing anything I can to avoid it. My counselor hypothesized that my loneliness would eventually outweigh my aversion to interacting with others, but I think its going to take a long while before it gets to that point. I am so tired of being lonely, of having no one to talk to and have fun with outside of my house. But I just can't make that leap. Don't get my wrong, I love my books and computer and everything else. But it can't replace meaningful human interaction. I guess it surprises me that after all the progress I've made in other areas, I feel that I've actually gotten worse in this one.

I guess I just miss my friend...

There is a line in the movie "Shawshank Redemption" that has brought me to tears every time.

"Sometimes I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged, their colors are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend."

My friend Adam's passing has hit me much harder than I expected. I am having such a hard time grasping it. I feel like I'm slow motion. My body and brain are exhausted. I have no one to talk to about it, and I don't know that I would, even if I did. I need my private time to grieve and to mull it all over.

At first, I was so concerned with the how and the why, but I have come to realize that none of that really matters. No matter how, no matter why, the outcome is the same. He's gone. Nothing anyone could say or do changes that. And while he was no longer a part of my daily life, my world seems so different. This is going to take me some time to assimilate.

We were cleaning out a storage closet on Monday, and I found some pictures of him. He was all smiles, it was such a perfect picture of how he was. I really had to struggle to hold back the tears. My kids don't know yet, and my SO, I've tried not to let on how much this is affecting me. I'm so conditioned from the years with my ex-husband. If something might bring on jealousy, then you keep your mouth shut, because jealousy brings on conflict and violence. I'm still too frightened of that to even risk it.

All week, I've been mulling over whether I should contact his mother. She is a mother of 2 sons, just like I am. I can't imagine the torment all this has caused her. Part of me wants to offer my condolences, to share my memories of her son, and offer up any insight I have into his life after he left her home. I have the means, but I am afraid, I suppose. I think that if I were in her shoes, I would want me to.

I wish I had something more profound to say about this whole situation, but right now, I don't. The grief and memories and questions have filled up my brain, and there's not room for much else. I guess I just miss my friend.

Goodbye to a friend

My friend Adam hadn't answered my emails. Our communication was only by email, and very sporadic. Today I checked his myspace page. On March 30, he passed away. I am completely in shock. I have so many questions, I don't know what happened to him, and probably I never will. I had known Adam since he was 19, he served in the Navy with my ex-husband. He tried to help me escape the life I was in, to show me that I deserved so much more. There was a time that it almost turned into a romance, but it wasn't worth risking his career and both of our safety over. We lost touch for quite some time, but he found me. We hadn't been in touch for a few months, and now he is gone. He was only 25 years old. I was so proud of the man he had become. He was always a good guy, but he had become an amazing man. He had figured out so much about the world, become so well-spoken. I have been in shock for most of the evening. Now the loss is hitting me. The tears have finally come. I will miss him so much.

An Introduction

I am a survivor of domestic violence. I hate that I still allow that to define me, but as much as I hate it, it is a huge part of who I am at this point in time. I was beaten, raped, terrorized and all other manner of things by the man I once called my husband. Friends and neighbors abandoned me (As one told me, she didn't need my drama invading her life), the police were useless (a detective for SDPD's DV unit told me that my situation wasn't that bad, and they were very short handed - I shouldn't be wasting their time. Another felt the need to remind me twice that it was a crime to file false police reports, and still another asked me what I had done to make him beat me), and the justice system slapped him on the wrist and sent him on his way. He is in prison now, for crimes committed against another young lady while he was supposedly following all the conditions of his probation. I have no reason to fear him at this point, but the fear has invaded the rest of my life. My experience with him opened my eyes to all the bad there is in the world, and that it very well could happen to me. I sometimes panic walking through a parking lot, or in a store. I feel so exposed - if someone decided to hurt me, what could I do to protect myself? I don't even know if I could scream - I lost my voice somewhere along the way. He was never punished, never had any real consequences for all he did to me and my sons. But I am punished every day. When my current SO reaches out to touch my face, I flinch as if he's going to hit me. Sex is a nightmare. I don't have friends - how can I trust anyone, after everyone I trusted abandoned me when I needed them the most?
And my poor kids. They were constantly interrogated by their father, told by him that he was going to kill me, and it was all my fault. They heard and saw me beaten, heard the rapes. The older one, who is 8, is so angry-he has every reason to be-and I don't know if he will ever really trust men again. The little one is very anxious-he chews his clothing to pieces, and has constant stomachaches. We have all had some counseling, and grown a great deal in the 2 years since we got him out of our life for good. But it's not gone, I doubt that it ever will be. My mind still reverts to old habits, at times. A smell, a sound, an occurrence, will bring it all back in an instance. But it gets better all the time, for all of us.
I've been working with my therapist on learning to hear my voice again. I have no idea what I like, what I want, how to make decisions about my own life, to have a life that is what I want and deserve. Learning to use that voice will be another thing, once I've got this whole listening thing down. She told me to find a way to express myself, and maybe to connect with others. Thus, this blog. I don't know how much it will be used - between work, school, kids, SO, home, etc. there isn't terribly much free time. But I'll get around to it every now and then.
I've rambled on much too long, and I doubt this makes sense to anyone but me. Oh well, I needed to say it all to begin with.