Saturday, October 22, 2016

Exercising my demons

Sadly, NOT exorcising them...Could it be I'm haunted?

My ex-husband is getting married tonight.  I want to be happy for him, excited that he's moved on and found true joy.  We can debate the merits on how good of a guy he is, but ultimately he's the father of my children and his happiness is key to theirs.  

But, he's not marrying just anybody.  He's marrying that girl who abused my little boy.

There are a lot of other things I could detail about her past, Things she's done to try to hurt me intentionally or to try to destroy my family, but those things really only speak to her character and as she has been unsuccessful in destroying my family, the things she does to me don't matter.  I'm an adult.  My little boy isn't...wasn't.  Even my older boy isn't....wasn't...

The common consensus of people in their life is that I'm "over-reacting" and refusing to "let it go" or "forgive".  To this I say the following: "Is there a way to over-react to child abuse?".  Also, "damned right I'm refusing to let go and forgive".  Isn't that normal of people who have children that were abused by other people?  Y'know, you watch Dr Phil and he says all the time: "I never like to put a victim together with their abuser in a situation, ever".  Yet, I'm expected to accept this girl into my kids' lives, dutifully send them over there every other weekend and hope they're safe.  Yes, hope, because I have no way of knowing they're safe.

Could it be I'm haunted, why can't I let it go?  I've been in therapy since my ex and I split and my counselor and I have worked a long time on my healing from this.  We finally got to the point where I don't have nightmares, every night, and I don't have a full blown anxiety attack when I send the boys over there.  But there are some things I can't turn loose of.  The images, that hand print and bruising on my son's face.  I know it's a trick my brain plays, but at least once a day I see my son's sweet, cherub face the way it looked that night.  I hear him tripping over the words of the made-up story, hear him tell me how he apologized, hear what the doctor said, remember all the trips to the crisis center, see the horrible findings of the forensic physician, hear the county attorney tell me she'd never really be punished, try to make a decision between probation and diversion, deciding, finally, with a troubled soul, to make the best decision I could for her kids because I have a mama's heart and that's what I do.  AT LEAST ONCE A DAY all this comes flooding back to me and washes over me.  It takes a minute, maybe two and then I snap out of it.  But it's there, every day.  I don't have them nightly anymore, but there are still nightmares.  Both boys still occasionally have nightmares.

Oh yes, and let's not forget the guilt, because I sure can't.  For the rest of my life, I will wonder if I made the wrong decision about probation v. diversion.  Especially in light of how the system flat out lied about what would occur and how long my son would be safe from her, etc.  Some days, when the boys have had nightmares, or I've had several of them, on those days, the guilt bubbles up around my heart and throat until my chest feels tight and I feel like I'm going to be sick every time I take a step, or a breath, or my heart dares to beat.  I wonder, in those moments, if my oldest son still blames me for not protecting his brother from her.  I wonder if one day my baby will blame me for the way this all turned out. I hope one day this will go away.  But there's no way to tell.  We're doing the best we can.

Yes, I must be haunted. 

Saturday, October 8, 2016

Lunar Girl

Guys, look, I know, ok?  I *knoooow*.  It's been too long, amirite?  But for Pete's sake, I forgot to pay my rent this month even though I had the money order sitting right there because that's how cuckoo it's been in my house. I've been up to my eyeballs in homework (trying to get ahead), the kids (who somehow keep getting into more and more stuff!), and writing....Just not writing for here.  I mean writing for here, just not ever getting around to posting it here.  Bad, bad, bad Eri.  I know.  So I hope this little thing about the moon that I cobbled together will serve as proper apology for now. 

The moon and I have always been connected.  One of the earliest kids' movies I remember loving was An American Tale, and we all remember that song.  The notion that we are all under the same sky provides comfort to me, we all see the same moon and that gives me a deeper connection to humanity which, in turn, makes me a better human (at least that's the plan).  I take enormous comfort in the sight of a huge moon, or even the sliver of a moon in my night sky.  Whether she's full or whether she's not, she rules this world.  The muse in my head turns her into her own muse.  She will even, at some point be a major portion of a very important tattoo.  So, please, read.  Tell me what you think.  Do the moon cycles affect you?  Do you feel closer to the world citizenship when you see that night sky?  Feedback is welcome and encouraged (just don't be a dick, amen).

The Rocky River Run
At night, as I stare up at the moon, anxious for the solace and comfort of her milky, lunar embrace, I hear her quiet call “you were the bravest”. The bravest because every night, I rush against the raging river, running towards her. Each rock in the riverbed cuts me with the words that were said or, worse, unsaid. I run against the current, not caring about the blood and bruises on my soul. I run towards her to reach the softness of her lap, the power of her hug and the truth in her words. She reminds me that it is courage to open up all of my heart and my life to someone. It is fortitude to live long enough to see it through, to tell it goodbye and let it go when it becomes too costly. (C) (ESR) (2016)