Que Sera, Sera

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Standing outside of the karate studio, watching my niece’s belt test, after SonHerisme’s belt test, the thoughts that flew through my mind:

 If MrexH were to show up here and threaten to make a violent scene if I did not get into the car right then with him, what would I do?

If I went with him, would this be when he kills me?

If I somehow pulled away from him, would we survive whatever scene he would make?

How fast could those karate instructors get to their telephones to call 911?  Would the karate instructors use karate?

Would whatever was about to occur, ruin the emotional health of everyone present?

How would SonHerisme be?  Who would make sure he got home?

 

I became so eerily frightened, that I ended up pushing my way back into the over-filled karate studio, so that if MrexH did show up, I would not be able to hear him, so there would be no decision for me to make.

Que sera, sera…  Whatever will, be will be

 

Last night, I received two Facetime calls from MrexH’s former company’s Vice President.  How odd.  Probably mistakes.  While we were in professional communication during the initial crisis, once MrexH was arrested, we have had no professional reason to maintain contact.  With all of the legal issues surrounding MrexH, it is understandable that his former company (whom he was also threatening), needed to maintain distance from me.

With the unusual Facetime calls, my thoughts spiraled into:

 Is there any reason this VP would be at the workplace in the evening, and MrexH has gone there?

Does MrexH know where VP lives?

Since I did not answer the Facetime calls, if it is MrexH, is he going to show up at my home in an agitated state?  Is this the night that he is going to kill us?

I became so frightened, that I double checked all the locked doors, set the house alarm early, and left our future to fate.

Que sera, sera…  Whatever will be, will be

 

(spoiler alert– we were not murdered)

 

As I no longer have a therapist, (which might be an issue because, like, anxiety and such from this and that) during an update meeting with SonHerisme’s therapist, it did come up that one of the most difficult things about our situation, is the not knowing.

I do not know what is going on with MrexH.

I do not know if he is still interested in killing us.

I do not know if he has access to a vehicle.

I do not know if he comes into our town on passes from his facility.

I do not know if he is well or unwell.

I do not know what he is capable of.

I do not know anything.

Mental Illness can be very unpredictable – especially with MrexH’s history.

I just do not know how to hope/predict/plan/prepare etc.

So, I figure out ways to cope with moving through each day, hour, minute and onto the next (with a safety plan).  I go through all of the things this moment actually is –

we are safe in this moment,

we have a roof over our heads in this moment,

we are cared for in this moment,

we are clothed in this moment etc.

And if he does arrive to murder us, I have no control over that.

Isn’t it always something odd, something seemingly benign at the time, which turns out to be the foreshadowing of tragedy?

Perhaps I read too much.

 

Que sera, sera…  Whatever will be, will be

The future’s not ours to see

Que sera, sera

What will be, will be

 

Love, Ms Herisme xo

ps. Those of you having similar experiences, please know that I am fiercely holding you in prayers for safety, peace, and comfort

pps.  I love Doris Day!

Excuses/Abuses – Tale of a Gut Hater

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(My heart is, our hearts are, in deep pain for our world today.  Please pay attention to, and take good care of, each other. Please and Thank You)

Before my Situation (so, ‘BS,’ for short), I never understood why why why anyone would put up with being abused by another person.

Why would you be with someone who hurts you? 

What kind of person puts up with that?  Prostitutes?  Drug addicts? Uneducated people?  People bound by misogynistic cultural norms? 

Who were these adult people choosing to live these lives? 

I could not comprehend abusive relationships at all.

 

Now, After my Sorry Situation (so, ‘ASS,’ for short), I cannot understand how to develop a relationship that isn’t abusive. I just do not trust myself anymore.

I know so many people, people in my BS and ASS communities, who are in or have been in, abusive relationships (and also, healthy functioning relationships, but they are foiling my post and will be disregarded at the moment).  It is hard for me to imagine how to be in any relationship.

I do not know how you functioning couples do it.  I am not saying that in a trite way.  I truly do not know how you do it.  I admire you, as one might admire a first class trip around the world, or a George Clooney Italian Villa – it’s so lovely to imagine, but so out of my reach or reality, that it appears like a magical fantasy.

How did I go from BS to ASS?

Honestly, while I knew that something was not right with my marriage, I had no idea that I was being abused.  I did not know that my husband was abusive.

 

The Police explained it to me.

The Sheriff’s department explained it to me.

Detectives explained it to me.

Domestic Violence Shelter Counselors explained it to me.

Multiple Private Therapists explained it to me.

My Physician explained it to me.

 

My Family and Friends explained it to me.

Church Officials explained it to me.

My Attorney explained it to me (and referred me back to my Therapist, many, many times)

 

I still did not know that I was in an abusive marriage.

 

I thought that I was the problem.  If only I could do this, he would be happy and not threaten our son.  If only I would do that, he would show us respect and kindness.  If only I could do this, he would stop hurting me.

There are days now, still, where I am consumed by guilt and remorse, that I was unable to do more, to help him better, to find the right Dr for him, to provide the right life for him to sooth his worries so that he would like us.

 

On these days, I have to force myself to read some of my notes for/from my attorney, in order to remember the facts of what has transpired, rather than my own feelings.

 

This is a painful, but necessary, process. 

 

Mostly, because in my case, if I lapse and allow my feelings to guide my actions, I would be placing both my son and myself, into lethal danger.  As I type this, I know that sounds like a crazy person.  After all that has happened, WHAT kind of person would subject themselves to that kind of peril?

 

Unfortunately, it is me.

 

And many other well-educated, loved, supported, life-engaged women (and men).

 

We are not stupid.  We are fiercely compassionate.  We are intelligent.  We have a hard work ethic.  We are devoted, dedicated, and honorable.

 

So much so, that our determination to be all of those things, blinds us to our own reality.

 

If something is not working, we set our minds, hearts, and souls to problem solve and correct whatever issue is set before us.

 

We believe we can help and resolve, through love, hard work, and devotion, any obstacle which is presented to us.  Our compassion for our abuser knows very few, if any, limits or boundaries.  We see someone worthy in there and we work our hardest to comfort and support and lift that worthiness out.

 

What we do not know, is that we are worthy enough of recognizing our abuser for who they are.

We are worthy enough to expect the same fierce compassion we exhibit, from our partner.

We are worthy enough to decide when to walk away from a situation that is not healthy or working for us.

We are worthy enough to deserve to feel safe in our home, in our bedroom, in our garage.

We are worthy enough to be treated the way we would want our sons and daughters to be treated in their adult relationships.

We are worthy.

 

It took my entire community over a year to convince me that Mr exH was abusive.  I was afraid of him.  I was confused by him.  I was incredibly painfully sad for him.

 

I was shocked when it was suggested that he was an abusive person.

 

I fought for him to get help, to get support, to get medical care, to have his pillow, to have his special toiletries, comfort items and clothing…

 

He continued to abuse me, and I still fought for him, like some caricature of the definition of an abused spouse.

 

What saved me from all of my excuses for his abuses? 

 

At one point, I was so deep into trying to do “the right thing” for my husband, my attorney called me in to her office (btw, this is never good news) and asked me if I trusted her to represent me in court.

I was having a difficult time understanding exactly what the process was that we were involved in, and what I was supposed to be doing.  My attorney spelled out for me that she was there to advise me, to guide me, and to advocate for me in court.

Even if I could not understand what she was doing, she needed to know if I trusted her as a professional.  I responded that I absolutely trusted her.

It was at that moment I realized

my thinking was based on false assumptions. 

While I was still unable to pinpoint exactly what my false assumptions were, I understood clearly at that moment that my thinking process and beliefs must be flawed.

My attorney has 20+ years of experience and a stellar reputation.

Family and friends had interacted with her multiple times by this point, and all were impressed by her.

Something clicked in me and allowed me to see that even if I did not agree with my attorney, even if I could not see what she was seeing, if I trusted her, I had to believe that she could interpret the situation correctly and knew what to do.

I was in crisis, after years of spiraling toward crisis.  I had no experience.  I reasoned with myself all of the way to, “how could I know what I don’t know?”

I had to trust that my attorney knew.

 

At the same time, my therapist was also gently introducing me to the idea that I was abused.  I did not believe her, but, again, I trusted her to know what she was seeing and hearing.

 

It is hard to follow your gut and not your heart,

when your mind is screaming at you.

 

Mind says, “You are an idiot/slacker/lazy/incompetent/evil/selfish/awful person for setting this situation up”

 

Heart says, “He is in so much pain and distress.  How can I take care of helping him, so that we can all be well?”

 

Gut says, “Listen to respected resources. Get a Safety Plan. Tell trusted people.  Trust your trusted people”

 

My gut saved us.

 

My gut that hates me, because I have treated it so poorly, saved us.

 

For everyone going through similar situations, I want to encourage you to listen to your gut – not the core of your heart, mind, and soul – your gut.

 

Because you are worthy of not accepting or making excuses

 

Because you are worthy of not accepting abuses

 

Your heart, mind, and soul will be revived, comforted, and nourished to where they need to be, through counseling and other support networks.

 

Right now, you need your gut

 

I am praying for you on your journey too.

 

Love, Ms. Herisme xo