I am feeling better today in that I am not so damned discouraged at the moment. For one thing, I was able to talk to S. from the prosecutor's office yesterday afternoon, and that helped. Not that it changed anything, but at least I know more what is going on. The reason they postponed the trial was because the defense wasn't ready (read: CF isn't yet ready to be assfucked by the general prison population), and the next available court opening was the one we got. For those of you who think living in a small town means a lower crime rate, think again. Also, the prosecutor is not backing down, but instead is going to use this time to try to make CF's prior conviction admissible in the trail itself as opposed to waiting for sentencing. S. was going to talk to the prosecutor about whether or not Hannah should be "allowed" to keep going to counseling, which is still fucked up in my mind, but at least she is aware and will, with hope, make the P. aware that Hannah is not, in fact, doing very well. None of us are, really, and I think it is important that he knows that.
Several of you had good suggestions yesterday for Hannah, and I want to tell you thank you. Hannah and I had already discussed her writing down all that she could remember, shortly after it happened, not so much so she would be clear on details (keep in mind that we initially thought it was going to be over far sooner than it is) but so she could have way to process everything. Writing for me is therapy in many ways, and my hope was that it would be for her as well. So we do have that, or rather she does, in her journal. Also, her initial interview was videotaped, and my guess is that she will have the opportunity to review that as well before she goes on the stand.
It isn't that anything has changed, and I don't feel anywhere near PEACEFUL and "okay" with everything exactly the way it is, but I do feel better, and that is no small thing. I do know that when I have the bad days, they will end and there are good days ahead, and that is also no small thing. It is a matter of time, always, before things DO change; maybe not in terms of the outside world or the things that happen, but inside, where it really matters. I am grateful to be able to see that, to be less sure that every dark, despairing day is going to last forever. Instead, it is more a matter of riding it out until it lessens.
There are also, as always, other things going on in my life which are wholly good. Like the fact that I got accepted as a contributor to the Rocky Mountain Moms Blog, which is just too coll for words. Now if I can just figure out what to write, we'll be in business. I also got my BlogHer ads up and running, and while it isn't going to make a dent so far as additional income goes, I still feel like one of the popular girls in school. Minus the blond hair and nice rack and cheerleader costume, that is. I have been writing, writing, writing, and hope to have my first article sent to the people whom I have coerced into being readers by next week...so life moves forward, whether there are days when I really feel stuck.
I have to sound like a total Mommy blogger here for a second, too. Owen has been so, so delicious the last few days that had I unlimited income, I would beg Steve on my hands and knees to have sex with me just long enough to give me another baby. He is funny, and suddenly dressing himself (oddly, but still by himself), and saying all of these crazy things like "I tell mommy on you!" when he is angry, or better yet, running into the kitchen or laundry room, plopping down on the floor and crossing his arms saying, "I be MAD." And then he turns around and says the sweetest things in the world, like our morning/evening conversations at daycare. "You come pick up me? In you car? And go home?" Yes, of course, mommy will always come pick you up in her car and take you home. "Mommy! You pick me up! In you car! We go home!" Yes, Owen, and why do I pick you up? "You yuv me." So you see, even when I am in the depths of despair, I really have it quite good, don't I?
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Still Waiting
Sigh....still waiting for that elusive grace....
And in the meantime, we got served new subpoenas last night and the trial date has been postponed until April 8-9. I don't know why yet, because it is only 8:30 here and the Prosecutor's office doesn't open until 9:00. I did leave a message but they don't return calls in a timely manner so I am not expecting any kind of an answer today.
This really messes things up. As afraid and upset as we have been about the upcoming trial, at least we knew it would be over for the most part at that time. It would be a bit of resolution, anyway, which is no small thing. Now, we have three more months of living like this, feeling sick and afraid and anxious, while CF gets to roam around free with not a care in the world. Three more months for the details to become less fresh in Hannah's mind, which improves their chances of getting him off. Three more months of living in some curious state of limbo, unable to ignore this huge, hulking thing hovering over us, yet having no choice but to keep moving forward as best as we can.
This also mean three more months of no help for Hannah, as the counselor will not get into any of the "real" work until after the trial. She and I already discussed this when we were there last week, which I posted about, but she really can't even talk to Hannah about "The Incident" because she can be accused of tainting Hannah's testimony. It fucking sucks ass hard that as a parent, I have to choose: I have to decide whether or not I am going to get Hannah the help she needs, which is obviously THE top priority, or whether I am going to make sure that son of a bitch gets what he deserves. I can see now why so many times these kinds of cases get dropped; it isn't due to lack of evidence, it is maybe because the parents get too tired of their kids hurting. When Hannah and I got our papers last night, she just went into her room and sobbed for a really long time; " I just want my life back," she said. "I am tired of being afraid!" Me too, baby, me too.
Oh. And get this. Remember how the preliminary hearing was on Hannah's birthday? The first day of the trial is on Eli's.
I am just too tired and discouraged today to get angry, to rail against how unjust this all is, to go off about how the criminals have more rights and freedoms than the victims do. It is there, but it once-removed, and I just can't get up the motivation to even give a fuck at this point, because like I said yesterday, it isn't going to change anything.
Of course, it doesn't help anything that there is all of this other personal shit going on at home, either. Suddenly not having a support person in Steve has made it worse, and there are things going on other people's lives as well, so I am just feeling very much alone in this right now. I went to the AA meeting on Monday but of course I can't TALK about this...and I really don't feel comfortable there right now anyway. Too many people know both CF and I, and I feel like I am walking on eggshells all of the time. Still, I make myself go, if only so that I have people who will hold me accountable for my actions, and honestly, so my recovery will at least be something CF can't take from me. I feel very lonely and isolated, which is not a good place for an alcoholic to be.
Seems like grace is taking a long time to show up.
And in the meantime, we got served new subpoenas last night and the trial date has been postponed until April 8-9. I don't know why yet, because it is only 8:30 here and the Prosecutor's office doesn't open until 9:00. I did leave a message but they don't return calls in a timely manner so I am not expecting any kind of an answer today.
This really messes things up. As afraid and upset as we have been about the upcoming trial, at least we knew it would be over for the most part at that time. It would be a bit of resolution, anyway, which is no small thing. Now, we have three more months of living like this, feeling sick and afraid and anxious, while CF gets to roam around free with not a care in the world. Three more months for the details to become less fresh in Hannah's mind, which improves their chances of getting him off. Three more months of living in some curious state of limbo, unable to ignore this huge, hulking thing hovering over us, yet having no choice but to keep moving forward as best as we can.
This also mean three more months of no help for Hannah, as the counselor will not get into any of the "real" work until after the trial. She and I already discussed this when we were there last week, which I posted about, but she really can't even talk to Hannah about "The Incident" because she can be accused of tainting Hannah's testimony. It fucking sucks ass hard that as a parent, I have to choose: I have to decide whether or not I am going to get Hannah the help she needs, which is obviously THE top priority, or whether I am going to make sure that son of a bitch gets what he deserves. I can see now why so many times these kinds of cases get dropped; it isn't due to lack of evidence, it is maybe because the parents get too tired of their kids hurting. When Hannah and I got our papers last night, she just went into her room and sobbed for a really long time; " I just want my life back," she said. "I am tired of being afraid!" Me too, baby, me too.
Oh. And get this. Remember how the preliminary hearing was on Hannah's birthday? The first day of the trial is on Eli's.
I am just too tired and discouraged today to get angry, to rail against how unjust this all is, to go off about how the criminals have more rights and freedoms than the victims do. It is there, but it once-removed, and I just can't get up the motivation to even give a fuck at this point, because like I said yesterday, it isn't going to change anything.
Of course, it doesn't help anything that there is all of this other personal shit going on at home, either. Suddenly not having a support person in Steve has made it worse, and there are things going on other people's lives as well, so I am just feeling very much alone in this right now. I went to the AA meeting on Monday but of course I can't TALK about this...and I really don't feel comfortable there right now anyway. Too many people know both CF and I, and I feel like I am walking on eggshells all of the time. Still, I make myself go, if only so that I have people who will hold me accountable for my actions, and honestly, so my recovery will at least be something CF can't take from me. I feel very lonely and isolated, which is not a good place for an alcoholic to be.
Seems like grace is taking a long time to show up.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Waiting for Grace
I find it ironic that The Geekhiker left a comment on may last post asking when I sleep, or something to that effect. I did not sleep well at all last night, at first unable to get to sleep and then what sleep I had was broken up by strange, vivid dreams that I can't quite remember this morning. I don't know if the entire house was picking up on my restlessness or vice versa, but it did not seem like there was a time through the night when all of us were asleep at the same time. Sam was having a nightmare, crying loudly in his sleep; he did not wake up, but he woke Hannah up, who could not go back to sleep until the dogs stopped pacing, at which point Owen got up and decided it was time to play, which woke Eli up and made him angry...so went the night.
It has not been the best series of days, and I feel yet another depression coming on. I guess it is progress in that at least I can be aware that it is coming and take certain steps to batten down the hatches, so to speak, but there seems to be nothing I can do to STOP it from coming. I even know what is causing it, but I can't change that either. I cannot change the way that it keeps coming back to the fact that nothing really changes. There are the same problems with Steve where HE gets confused and therefore has decided that instead of trying to figure out why he is confused, he totally cuts off all meaningful contact. There are the same problems with money, the same problems with mothers pitting themselves against one another, the same problems in that we single mothers are being dragged through the press and the cause of all crime in the nation....and I am right back to where I was a few months ago wondering why I even keep trying to make a difference. Why I keep trying so hard to just love people, to be present, to try to love them where they are instead of where I want them to be.
One of the many books I have been reading is about this Universal Unitarian minister (not one of the books I was reading before, I am done with all but one of them and have begun a new batch), and I have to say that what they believe follows along pretty much what I believe, or vice versa. Which is comforting in that there is actually name for it other than "liberal tree hugging man hating lesbian bitch who is going to hell because she believes that gay marriage is okey-dokey and there is no reason why a woman shouldn't be able to have an abortion." For one thing, it sounds much nicer, and rolls off the tongue much more smoothly. Anyway, one of the main things that this particular minister believes is what I believe, that when we die, we just die. Maybe we are wrong and there is this wonderful afterlife full of partying at Jebus' feet, or maybe we are reincarnated, or maybe there really is a heaven and a hell and limbo and all of that. But for me, I just think we get buried and we rot in the ground. That's it. What that has to do with my depression is that I am 37 years old, and I am going to rot and the bugs are going to eat my eyes out and what will I have to show for it? Because nothing.fucking.changes.
*****I just realized something when I came in to fix a spelling error I noticed. I am not, in fact, 37, I am only 36. I am not sure if that makes me feel better because I am younger than I thought, or worse because I am clearly losing my mind. Whatever.*****
I don't know. I am just in a pissy mood, I don't know what direction I am supposed to take now, and I can't even see the next fucking step. I am not good at waiting, and I am tired of feeling like I have no SAY in what happens. Not in the sense of being a victim, I don't mean that-I have options, always, but I am just tired of feeling like it has to be so fucking HARD all of the time. So-that is where I am at again today. If I keep getting up in the mornings, keep showing up and doing the work, grace will arrive. It always does. But for now, I am just confused and sad and I don't even have the energy to be angry.
It has not been the best series of days, and I feel yet another depression coming on. I guess it is progress in that at least I can be aware that it is coming and take certain steps to batten down the hatches, so to speak, but there seems to be nothing I can do to STOP it from coming. I even know what is causing it, but I can't change that either. I cannot change the way that it keeps coming back to the fact that nothing really changes. There are the same problems with Steve where HE gets confused and therefore has decided that instead of trying to figure out why he is confused, he totally cuts off all meaningful contact. There are the same problems with money, the same problems with mothers pitting themselves against one another, the same problems in that we single mothers are being dragged through the press and the cause of all crime in the nation....and I am right back to where I was a few months ago wondering why I even keep trying to make a difference. Why I keep trying so hard to just love people, to be present, to try to love them where they are instead of where I want them to be.
One of the many books I have been reading is about this Universal Unitarian minister (not one of the books I was reading before, I am done with all but one of them and have begun a new batch), and I have to say that what they believe follows along pretty much what I believe, or vice versa. Which is comforting in that there is actually name for it other than "liberal tree hugging man hating lesbian bitch who is going to hell because she believes that gay marriage is okey-dokey and there is no reason why a woman shouldn't be able to have an abortion." For one thing, it sounds much nicer, and rolls off the tongue much more smoothly. Anyway, one of the main things that this particular minister believes is what I believe, that when we die, we just die. Maybe we are wrong and there is this wonderful afterlife full of partying at Jebus' feet, or maybe we are reincarnated, or maybe there really is a heaven and a hell and limbo and all of that. But for me, I just think we get buried and we rot in the ground. That's it. What that has to do with my depression is that I am 37 years old, and I am going to rot and the bugs are going to eat my eyes out and what will I have to show for it? Because nothing.fucking.changes.
*****I just realized something when I came in to fix a spelling error I noticed. I am not, in fact, 37, I am only 36. I am not sure if that makes me feel better because I am younger than I thought, or worse because I am clearly losing my mind. Whatever.*****
I don't know. I am just in a pissy mood, I don't know what direction I am supposed to take now, and I can't even see the next fucking step. I am not good at waiting, and I am tired of feeling like I have no SAY in what happens. Not in the sense of being a victim, I don't mean that-I have options, always, but I am just tired of feeling like it has to be so fucking HARD all of the time. So-that is where I am at again today. If I keep getting up in the mornings, keep showing up and doing the work, grace will arrive. It always does. But for now, I am just confused and sad and I don't even have the energy to be angry.
Friday, January 9, 2009
On a Lighter Note: A Meme
I got tagged by The Girl over at A Girl and Her Blog again to do another one of those 7 odd/random things memes, and I tell you, I am starting to get seriously concerned that some of you people really think I am quite odd, that I have enough little quirks and eccentricities to keep finding more. I might have to start digging really deep to find the ones I have been burying, and bring them out in all their glory. And if not, I think I have enough newer readers that they might now know some of the earlier ones so....without further ado....
1. I hate both Reese Witherspoon and Cameron Diaz SO much that unless every single person I know tells me a movie they are in is good, I won't watch a movie with either of them in it. I think I must be the only person in the world who thought that Cameron Diaz looked better as an ogre than she did a princess, too.
2. I brush my teeth in the shower every morning. For some reason, I feel odd if I brush them in the sink BEFORE I take a shower, but it bothers me not.at.all. to brush them in the sink before bed. Maybe I am odder than I thought.
3. There is nothing "anti-bacterial" in my home other than bleach (IS that anti-bacterial?), and I don't generally clean with bleach because it gives me a terrible headache. Therefore, if you have germ issues, my home would probably totally freak you out.
4. I bought a new vacuum about 6 months ago and I have never once used it. Now, that does NOT mean that my floor hasn't been vacuumed in that long (I have four kids and two dogs, it gets vacuumed every day at least once!), it just means that *I* have not actually vacuumed once. See, I liked my OLD vacuum. I liked it a lot. But it died, and I haven't been able to bring myself to use the new one. Even though it is EXACTLY the same as the old one, even down to the same color (oh my god, I AM crazy, aren't I?).
5. I love the smell of honey, and adore the Burt's Bees product line (all of it), but I really don't care for the TASTE of honey. I like two things: peanut butter and honey sandwiches on whole grain bread, and honey on hot cornbread slathered with butter. That's it. It is one of those things that I always THINK I like, but don't.
6. I really do not like Danielle Steel. Not only are 90% of her books the SAME, I don't think she is even a very good WRITER. I like a romance every now and again, mindless entertainment and all, but if I am going to read a book like that, it won't be one that is so banal and boring that I am busy critiquing her grammar and usage of the word "And" to start a long, meaningless, fragmented run-on-sentence. On second thought, given this particular paragraph, I could maybe give her a run for her money.
7. I rarely have less than three books actively being read at any given time, all of which are usually totally different from one another. Currently on the table are The Green Mile by Stephen King, The Drama of the Gifted Child by someone whose name I can't remember, and Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experiences by Sharon Salzberg.
So there you are. I can't really think of anyone to tag at the moment, but if you would like to do it, please feel free. And thanks again to The Girl for tagging me; I needed something a little lighter than yesterday and this fit the bill perfectly.
1. I hate both Reese Witherspoon and Cameron Diaz SO much that unless every single person I know tells me a movie they are in is good, I won't watch a movie with either of them in it. I think I must be the only person in the world who thought that Cameron Diaz looked better as an ogre than she did a princess, too.
2. I brush my teeth in the shower every morning. For some reason, I feel odd if I brush them in the sink BEFORE I take a shower, but it bothers me not.at.all. to brush them in the sink before bed. Maybe I am odder than I thought.
3. There is nothing "anti-bacterial" in my home other than bleach (IS that anti-bacterial?), and I don't generally clean with bleach because it gives me a terrible headache. Therefore, if you have germ issues, my home would probably totally freak you out.
4. I bought a new vacuum about 6 months ago and I have never once used it. Now, that does NOT mean that my floor hasn't been vacuumed in that long (I have four kids and two dogs, it gets vacuumed every day at least once!), it just means that *I* have not actually vacuumed once. See, I liked my OLD vacuum. I liked it a lot. But it died, and I haven't been able to bring myself to use the new one. Even though it is EXACTLY the same as the old one, even down to the same color (oh my god, I AM crazy, aren't I?).
5. I love the smell of honey, and adore the Burt's Bees product line (all of it), but I really don't care for the TASTE of honey. I like two things: peanut butter and honey sandwiches on whole grain bread, and honey on hot cornbread slathered with butter. That's it. It is one of those things that I always THINK I like, but don't.
6. I really do not like Danielle Steel. Not only are 90% of her books the SAME, I don't think she is even a very good WRITER. I like a romance every now and again, mindless entertainment and all, but if I am going to read a book like that, it won't be one that is so banal and boring that I am busy critiquing her grammar and usage of the word "And" to start a long, meaningless, fragmented run-on-sentence. On second thought, given this particular paragraph, I could maybe give her a run for her money.
7. I rarely have less than three books actively being read at any given time, all of which are usually totally different from one another. Currently on the table are The Green Mile by Stephen King, The Drama of the Gifted Child by someone whose name I can't remember, and Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experiences by Sharon Salzberg.
So there you are. I can't really think of anyone to tag at the moment, but if you would like to do it, please feel free. And thanks again to The Girl for tagging me; I needed something a little lighter than yesterday and this fit the bill perfectly.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
In Which I Confess my Fears
Funny, not long after I posted yesterday, the woman from the Prosecutor's office called. It isn't the same woman I got mad at before (I think SHE is actually in the background begging this woman, S. to pleeeeeze call me so she doesn't have to deal with the over dramatic whiny bitch, but hey, it works for me!). Anyway-S. called to let me know what was going on. I was right in that the hearing on the 12th is one I don't attend (and actually, Jacquie was right); in fact, I CAN'T, as it is a closed hearing between just the attorneys and the judge to find out whether or not it is going to trial. So S. said that after that hearing, the prosecutor will call me and set up a time for us to go in and start going over what will happen at the trial. Apparently this pre-trial hearing is where the defense attorney starts to deal, and S. said that the prosecuting attorney at this point has no intention of agreeing to a lesser plea. Therefore, since CF has nothing to lose at this point, we can expect to go all the way to trial.
I don't know how I feel about this. Obviously we had hoped to avoid a trial, but at the same time apparently the prosecutor thinks he has a solid enough case to take it all the way. That should make me feel better, but it somehow doesn't. I was talking to a woman from AA on Monday, someone I thought was a friend/safe person to talk to, and she flatly refused to believe it. She stopped just shy of calling Hannah a liar, but that was the intimation, and I KNOW that there are people who will think that. There will be others who operate under the assumption that since he did not actually achieve penetration-with fingers or otherwise-that it isn't that big a deal; we have already been exposed to a little bit of that as well. The thought of people like that being on the jury makes me feel ill, it really does. Actually, the reality that ANYONE can take this lightly makes me ill, and then to imagine them on the jury-frightening.
I know that anything can happen in the next three weeks. I know that just because the prosecutor isn't willing to deal at this point doesn't mean he won't agree to a plea-bargain closer to trial. I know that there is much negotiating done that I am not aware of, and I also know that I can't have it both ways. I can't get any kind of justice for Hannah without being willing to go all the way to the bitter end, and I also can't say that I am opposed to negotiations and plea bargains if that means Hannah doesn't have to stand in front of him and testify. It is a shitty situation either way you look at it, really.
And I am scared. I am terrified for Hannah, of course,-you all know that. So putting that aside for just a minute, can I talk about the fact that I am scared on my own behalf? I WILL have to testify, and I am afraid that I will simply come across as just another stupid, vulnerable single mom who got duped. Worse, one who had an idea of what was going on or what might happen but chose to ignore it because he did so much for us. I am afraid of sitting up there in the little witness box and having the defense attorney-who is, in case I haven't mentioned before, very sleazy-try to take the faith and trust I had in this person and turn it into something really, really ugly. I am afraid that he will make it sound as if I should have been suspicious all along because WHY would someone do such nice things for someone all of the time if there wasn't some ulterior motive? Which implies of course that we are not worthy of people being nice to us and loving us for who we are, but because they want something from us. It also implies that I was if not a willing participant, I did nothing to stop it, which amounts to the same thing. These are things I fear becasue they are questions I have been asking MYSELF, so if I am questioning myself, what will the defense attorney do? I am just afraid all the way around, and if I, a relatively smart, strong, aware woman, am this afraid, can anyone even begin to imagine how Hannah must feel? In some ways, though, she is better off in that she is innocent; not just innocent of wrong-doing on ANY level, but also innocent in her ideas of what may or may not happen in court. She might very well get clobbered and shattered on the stand, but at that point there will be (I hope) a lot of people there to hold her up, whereas right now it might be better for her to remain a little bit naive. Not in the sense that we aren't going to prepare her as best as we CAN, but in the sense of not really grasping how awful it can get until she is in the midst. If this DOES go to trial, she needs to not be too scared to testify.
I am aware that part of my fear comes from a far deeper place than this; part of it comes from still, in many ways, my childhood, where I lived in fear all of the time. Fear and loathing of my abusers, yet willing to do anything to stay on their good side, even if that meant doing things I knew were wrong. Helplessness and lack of control not just over my own body but my mind and soul. It is this old fear and self-hatred and yes, shame, that keeps me awake at night, and makes me afraid to confront this man on any level. However: and this is a big "however," I also know, just like I am telling Hannah, is that the only way-the ONLY way-to get through this is to walk through the fear, have faith that it is going to be okay (whatever "okay" ultimately looks like for us), and we will get through. What is that schmaltzy saying, "courage is fear that has said it's prayers?" Well. Pray, then, for courage. For strength. For peace.
I don't know how I feel about this. Obviously we had hoped to avoid a trial, but at the same time apparently the prosecutor thinks he has a solid enough case to take it all the way. That should make me feel better, but it somehow doesn't. I was talking to a woman from AA on Monday, someone I thought was a friend/safe person to talk to, and she flatly refused to believe it. She stopped just shy of calling Hannah a liar, but that was the intimation, and I KNOW that there are people who will think that. There will be others who operate under the assumption that since he did not actually achieve penetration-with fingers or otherwise-that it isn't that big a deal; we have already been exposed to a little bit of that as well. The thought of people like that being on the jury makes me feel ill, it really does. Actually, the reality that ANYONE can take this lightly makes me ill, and then to imagine them on the jury-frightening.
I know that anything can happen in the next three weeks. I know that just because the prosecutor isn't willing to deal at this point doesn't mean he won't agree to a plea-bargain closer to trial. I know that there is much negotiating done that I am not aware of, and I also know that I can't have it both ways. I can't get any kind of justice for Hannah without being willing to go all the way to the bitter end, and I also can't say that I am opposed to negotiations and plea bargains if that means Hannah doesn't have to stand in front of him and testify. It is a shitty situation either way you look at it, really.
And I am scared. I am terrified for Hannah, of course,-you all know that. So putting that aside for just a minute, can I talk about the fact that I am scared on my own behalf? I WILL have to testify, and I am afraid that I will simply come across as just another stupid, vulnerable single mom who got duped. Worse, one who had an idea of what was going on or what might happen but chose to ignore it because he did so much for us. I am afraid of sitting up there in the little witness box and having the defense attorney-who is, in case I haven't mentioned before, very sleazy-try to take the faith and trust I had in this person and turn it into something really, really ugly. I am afraid that he will make it sound as if I should have been suspicious all along because WHY would someone do such nice things for someone all of the time if there wasn't some ulterior motive? Which implies of course that we are not worthy of people being nice to us and loving us for who we are, but because they want something from us. It also implies that I was if not a willing participant, I did nothing to stop it, which amounts to the same thing. These are things I fear becasue they are questions I have been asking MYSELF, so if I am questioning myself, what will the defense attorney do? I am just afraid all the way around, and if I, a relatively smart, strong, aware woman, am this afraid, can anyone even begin to imagine how Hannah must feel? In some ways, though, she is better off in that she is innocent; not just innocent of wrong-doing on ANY level, but also innocent in her ideas of what may or may not happen in court. She might very well get clobbered and shattered on the stand, but at that point there will be (I hope) a lot of people there to hold her up, whereas right now it might be better for her to remain a little bit naive. Not in the sense that we aren't going to prepare her as best as we CAN, but in the sense of not really grasping how awful it can get until she is in the midst. If this DOES go to trial, she needs to not be too scared to testify.
I am aware that part of my fear comes from a far deeper place than this; part of it comes from still, in many ways, my childhood, where I lived in fear all of the time. Fear and loathing of my abusers, yet willing to do anything to stay on their good side, even if that meant doing things I knew were wrong. Helplessness and lack of control not just over my own body but my mind and soul. It is this old fear and self-hatred and yes, shame, that keeps me awake at night, and makes me afraid to confront this man on any level. However: and this is a big "however," I also know, just like I am telling Hannah, is that the only way-the ONLY way-to get through this is to walk through the fear, have faith that it is going to be okay (whatever "okay" ultimately looks like for us), and we will get through. What is that schmaltzy saying, "courage is fear that has said it's prayers?" Well. Pray, then, for courage. For strength. For peace.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Snippets of Updates
My kids started back up to school yesterday after being home for eighteen days. Yes, eighteen, which seems utterly ridiculous to me. I mean, come on; mine have a hard time focusing after a three-day-weekend, so I can't imagine them slipping right back in to the routine. I, on the other hand, fairly leaped out of bed at 5:45 yesterday morning-despite having been able to sleep in an hour later over the long vacation-in order to get the kids up and in the shower and out the door. If I had been able to shove them out the door forcibly, I would have. Besides the fact that they go back to school all befuddled and lost (again), but believe me, after that much "together" time, they are really driving each other (read: ME) in.fucking.sane.
Sam was the only one of the three to actually be excited to go back. You see, he got his new glasses the day after Christmas and he is so thrilled to be able to finally SEE. He is a little bit worried about being made fun of, "four eyes" and all, but I truly do think that for him, being able to see clearly is so new to him that even if he IS teased, it isn't going to bother him much. It was funny, the other day his third best friend in the world came over to play, and as soon as he saw Sam he started laughing. Ok, that part isn't funny. What was funny was that Sam just cocked his eyebrow and said, "Um, dude, YOU wear glasses, too!" Maybe you had to be there, but it was hilarious.
Hannah had, finally, her first counseling session last night. With the holidays, and then the fact that the counselor had the audacity to go on vacation, made it so there was a long delay, but last night the woman W. said that for trial purposes, later is actually better. That way, the defense cannot accuse the therapist of tainting testimony or leading the witness. How fucked up is that, that we have all of these kids who are really hurting, yet we do have to think strategy? She was telling me that in some cases, the kids go without any kind of treatment for years, at which point they are irrevocably damaged. It is a terrible, terrible thing. She was also adamant about me using the words "sexually abused" as opposed to molested; she said that it diminishes the enormity if what happened. I hadn't thought about that, obviously, but it makes perfect sense. When talking about this with the few people here who know about it, I stumble over the words and attempt to downplay it, even if I am not aware that I am doing it. God save us all from the curse of feeling like things HAVE to appear better than they really are!
I obviously went in to talk to her for a few minutes before Hannah went in, and that was really good. It was amazingly easy to be completely frank with her, which is clearly a quality you WANT in a therapist, so I was relieved about that. I told her that because of my own history of extended childhood abuse, I was completely incapable of helping Hannah from this point on; "I got her here," I said, "and now she is in your hands." Probably predictably, I started crying-might be hard to believe, but it has only been in the last year that I have told ANYONE about even a fraction of the things that happened, so it was really difficult for me to do so in an unemotional manner. She was very, very kind, though, and said that I was going to be surprised at how much healing would be available to ME through this process, and also that she would be there to help me learn how to help Hannah. That seemed very comforting to me, and I felt a lot less in the dark and fumbling than I did prior to talking to her.
And Hannah really liked her, feeling the same sense of instant connection as I did. She slept better last night, and just seems a little calmer inside herself today. Not that it is over by any means-in SO many ways, the journey for her is just beginning-but in that now there is help available and she will learn how to be okay. I am glad for her; I am grateful to see a bit more peace in her eyes, grateful to not have heard her rustling around in her bed all night, tossing and turning and getting up and down. Yes, it is one night, but with luck and hard work, it will turn into two nights in a row, and maybe eventually she will sleep unbroken as a rule rather than an exception.
I haven't heard anything new in terms of court stuff; I know there is a preliminary hearing of some sort on the 12th, I believe it might be a status hearing but am waiting for a call back from the Prosecutor's office to find out for sure. If that is what it is, I don't believe it is one I am supposed to attend. The trial is set for the 28th of this month, which is a little scary in that it is three weeks away and we are totally in the dark. When I talk to the Prosecutor, I plan on asking him what exactly is going on behind the scenes, and why I have not been kept apprised of the different steps being taken. As it is, no one has even contacted us since the preliminary hearing, so I am feeling stonewalled and frustrated. I am trying heard to simply breathe, as my friend C. always tells me to do, and not call them up and pitch a fit. After all, it does no one any good for me to lose my temper, and in the long run just makes me feel like shit. So if I haven't heard anything by this afternoon, I will call and be as reasonable and kind and yet firm as I know how to be-and I will keep breathing.
Sam was the only one of the three to actually be excited to go back. You see, he got his new glasses the day after Christmas and he is so thrilled to be able to finally SEE. He is a little bit worried about being made fun of, "four eyes" and all, but I truly do think that for him, being able to see clearly is so new to him that even if he IS teased, it isn't going to bother him much. It was funny, the other day his third best friend in the world came over to play, and as soon as he saw Sam he started laughing. Ok, that part isn't funny. What was funny was that Sam just cocked his eyebrow and said, "Um, dude, YOU wear glasses, too!" Maybe you had to be there, but it was hilarious.
Hannah had, finally, her first counseling session last night. With the holidays, and then the fact that the counselor had the audacity to go on vacation, made it so there was a long delay, but last night the woman W. said that for trial purposes, later is actually better. That way, the defense cannot accuse the therapist of tainting testimony or leading the witness. How fucked up is that, that we have all of these kids who are really hurting, yet we do have to think strategy? She was telling me that in some cases, the kids go without any kind of treatment for years, at which point they are irrevocably damaged. It is a terrible, terrible thing. She was also adamant about me using the words "sexually abused" as opposed to molested; she said that it diminishes the enormity if what happened. I hadn't thought about that, obviously, but it makes perfect sense. When talking about this with the few people here who know about it, I stumble over the words and attempt to downplay it, even if I am not aware that I am doing it. God save us all from the curse of feeling like things HAVE to appear better than they really are!
I obviously went in to talk to her for a few minutes before Hannah went in, and that was really good. It was amazingly easy to be completely frank with her, which is clearly a quality you WANT in a therapist, so I was relieved about that. I told her that because of my own history of extended childhood abuse, I was completely incapable of helping Hannah from this point on; "I got her here," I said, "and now she is in your hands." Probably predictably, I started crying-might be hard to believe, but it has only been in the last year that I have told ANYONE about even a fraction of the things that happened, so it was really difficult for me to do so in an unemotional manner. She was very, very kind, though, and said that I was going to be surprised at how much healing would be available to ME through this process, and also that she would be there to help me learn how to help Hannah. That seemed very comforting to me, and I felt a lot less in the dark and fumbling than I did prior to talking to her.
And Hannah really liked her, feeling the same sense of instant connection as I did. She slept better last night, and just seems a little calmer inside herself today. Not that it is over by any means-in SO many ways, the journey for her is just beginning-but in that now there is help available and she will learn how to be okay. I am glad for her; I am grateful to see a bit more peace in her eyes, grateful to not have heard her rustling around in her bed all night, tossing and turning and getting up and down. Yes, it is one night, but with luck and hard work, it will turn into two nights in a row, and maybe eventually she will sleep unbroken as a rule rather than an exception.
I haven't heard anything new in terms of court stuff; I know there is a preliminary hearing of some sort on the 12th, I believe it might be a status hearing but am waiting for a call back from the Prosecutor's office to find out for sure. If that is what it is, I don't believe it is one I am supposed to attend. The trial is set for the 28th of this month, which is a little scary in that it is three weeks away and we are totally in the dark. When I talk to the Prosecutor, I plan on asking him what exactly is going on behind the scenes, and why I have not been kept apprised of the different steps being taken. As it is, no one has even contacted us since the preliminary hearing, so I am feeling stonewalled and frustrated. I am trying heard to simply breathe, as my friend C. always tells me to do, and not call them up and pitch a fit. After all, it does no one any good for me to lose my temper, and in the long run just makes me feel like shit. So if I haven't heard anything by this afternoon, I will call and be as reasonable and kind and yet firm as I know how to be-and I will keep breathing.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Recap of 2008
I have put off writing a New Year's post for several reasons. One is that I so don't do the whole resolution thing, and another is that I really haven't had much to SAY. Or maybe the quietness I have been feeling inside has translated to a distinctly quiet voice, or perhaps I have been taking a much-needed break from the whole online world lately, or hell, maybe I have just been feeling lazy. Whatever the case may be, I am back with a vengeance today, ready to get back into the blog as well as this next chapter of my life. I don't believe in fresh starts, but I DO believe in new beginnings, using lessons learned, and basically doing better today than I did yesterday-or last year, as the case may be.
So to recap the last year, for myself if not for you, I will sit back and remember how much things have changed in the last year with regards to Steve. On New Year's Day last year, he broke up with me, and then there was a period of time where I experienced a lot of heartbreak and pain and absolute fury. This year, on the same day, we were driving home from Boise with all of the kids after having spent the evening going to a wedding as a family. There are still issues in this "relationship," obviously, but for my own part I am coming to accept that even though it makes no sense to anyone else, even though it certainly doesn't follow what "tradition" says it should look like, it still has validity. Yes, I am still a single mom. Yes, I am in love with a man who drinks alcoholically. Yes, he does things that cause me pain and anger. Do those things negate the progress that has been made? No, I don't think so. Am I missing out on Something Wonderful by continuing to maintain what we have at the moment? I don't think so. So yes, this is a good thing. And it has to do with me making different decisions about my life and where I want it to go; it has to do with me taking back my own power and making conscious decisions-DAILY-about what is or isn't good for me. And I reserve the right to change my mind at any given time about those same things.
There has been a lessening of the bitterness in general, a softening in my heart somewhere. You see, I am a single mom because I choose to be. I could convince Steve to marry me if I really set my mind and my heart to it, I suppose-but that would mean taking on an active alcoholic embroiled in current legal issues, financial issues, emotional issues, and that is not a choice I am willing to make. I am also not willing to lose myself and my identity in order to get and keep any man, much less Steve. I could easily find someone and make myself over into the kind of person I think he wants me to be, but I have been there and found that the price is too high. So today I can look at my life and instead of feeling as if I am a victim of circumstance, instead of feeling like I am single because of thing done to me, I can be aware that I am making choices every single say to provide a better life for myself, for my kids, and right now, the better choice is to stay where I am and just be grateful. That isn't such a bad place to be.
Also in the last year, we have had the Crazy Stalker Guy, problems with Eli, and the ongoing situation with CF (court in 7 days!); I have also had to deal with crippling financial setbacks, and yet here I am in January breathing a sigh of relief. This is what I have learned: that we are stronger a family than I gave us credit for, and that I am FAR stronger a woman than I previously even imagined I could be. We have gone through the mill in more ways than one, and have been battered around a little bit more by life, but you know what? We are all still standing, maybe even a little bit straighter. I did not do this on my own, I know, and I won't claim to. But I will claim to have been kicked in the metaphorical balls and have gotten up, still wheezing and holding onto those vulnerable parts, still breathing. Again, not such a bad place to be.
I have learned how to cry unashamedly in the last year, as well as laugh like hell when it hurt too badly to cry one more tear. I have learned to heal old wounds in myself while mothering a vulnerable, shattered daughter, I have learned how to be the man of the house when confronted with an angry, looming teenaged boy. I have learned better how to follow through on consequences, and have learned when to praise instead of pick apart. I have become willing to let my life unfold as it will, and I have learned to live it and be as happy as I can, because this is the only one I have.
I face this new year with courage; courage to take off the shelf these dusty, unused dreams and put them to good use. Courage to dream again, to let die the ingrained belief that I simply do not deserve the world. I face the year now with the courage to love whom I love with no explanations or justifications, to buy pillows without needing permission, to simply be who I am. And the courage to rest at night know that it is enough.
Happy, happy new year to all of you. Thanks for coming along for the ride!
So to recap the last year, for myself if not for you, I will sit back and remember how much things have changed in the last year with regards to Steve. On New Year's Day last year, he broke up with me, and then there was a period of time where I experienced a lot of heartbreak and pain and absolute fury. This year, on the same day, we were driving home from Boise with all of the kids after having spent the evening going to a wedding as a family. There are still issues in this "relationship," obviously, but for my own part I am coming to accept that even though it makes no sense to anyone else, even though it certainly doesn't follow what "tradition" says it should look like, it still has validity. Yes, I am still a single mom. Yes, I am in love with a man who drinks alcoholically. Yes, he does things that cause me pain and anger. Do those things negate the progress that has been made? No, I don't think so. Am I missing out on Something Wonderful by continuing to maintain what we have at the moment? I don't think so. So yes, this is a good thing. And it has to do with me making different decisions about my life and where I want it to go; it has to do with me taking back my own power and making conscious decisions-DAILY-about what is or isn't good for me. And I reserve the right to change my mind at any given time about those same things.
There has been a lessening of the bitterness in general, a softening in my heart somewhere. You see, I am a single mom because I choose to be. I could convince Steve to marry me if I really set my mind and my heart to it, I suppose-but that would mean taking on an active alcoholic embroiled in current legal issues, financial issues, emotional issues, and that is not a choice I am willing to make. I am also not willing to lose myself and my identity in order to get and keep any man, much less Steve. I could easily find someone and make myself over into the kind of person I think he wants me to be, but I have been there and found that the price is too high. So today I can look at my life and instead of feeling as if I am a victim of circumstance, instead of feeling like I am single because of thing done to me, I can be aware that I am making choices every single say to provide a better life for myself, for my kids, and right now, the better choice is to stay where I am and just be grateful. That isn't such a bad place to be.
Also in the last year, we have had the Crazy Stalker Guy, problems with Eli, and the ongoing situation with CF (court in 7 days!); I have also had to deal with crippling financial setbacks, and yet here I am in January breathing a sigh of relief. This is what I have learned: that we are stronger a family than I gave us credit for, and that I am FAR stronger a woman than I previously even imagined I could be. We have gone through the mill in more ways than one, and have been battered around a little bit more by life, but you know what? We are all still standing, maybe even a little bit straighter. I did not do this on my own, I know, and I won't claim to. But I will claim to have been kicked in the metaphorical balls and have gotten up, still wheezing and holding onto those vulnerable parts, still breathing. Again, not such a bad place to be.
I have learned how to cry unashamedly in the last year, as well as laugh like hell when it hurt too badly to cry one more tear. I have learned to heal old wounds in myself while mothering a vulnerable, shattered daughter, I have learned how to be the man of the house when confronted with an angry, looming teenaged boy. I have learned better how to follow through on consequences, and have learned when to praise instead of pick apart. I have become willing to let my life unfold as it will, and I have learned to live it and be as happy as I can, because this is the only one I have.
I face this new year with courage; courage to take off the shelf these dusty, unused dreams and put them to good use. Courage to dream again, to let die the ingrained belief that I simply do not deserve the world. I face the year now with the courage to love whom I love with no explanations or justifications, to buy pillows without needing permission, to simply be who I am. And the courage to rest at night know that it is enough.
Happy, happy new year to all of you. Thanks for coming along for the ride!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
