Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a boring, uneventful week…..

My ex-husband is a fucking useless waste of life. His oxygen use should go to others who really need it, and the space his body takes up could be used for an extra set of shelves or something. Anyhoo… today may be the last day I ever have to deal with him in a “we have a child together” way. My plan of attack………….apathy. I’m picking up my son and his belongings because he’s moving back in with my family. He wanted to live with his dad a bit, which is great, and I’m glad he did because he learned what a jackass he really is. Good life lesson.

My husband won’t be there because he’s a feisty Italian, and the girls won’t be there because they don’t need to be. The greatest weapon in my Asshole Arsenal is apathy. Asshole tries to bait me again and again, but as long as I’m armed with Apathy, and use it well, it always protects me. If I don’t care then you can’t hurt me. If I don’t acknowledge your stupidity it can’t affect me. If I pretend you don’t exist I dehumanize you, take you for granted and you are nothing to me. I’ve fallen for his stupid games a couple of times but it’s okay. Apathy is my weapon and my defense.

I don’t feel comfortable using Apathy because it was used against me for over forty years. It’s hard to wield this mighty weapon, destroyer of self, self-confidence, and hope. It goes against everything I believe in – the value of life, the validation of existence, the importance of feeling important. It’s a cruel, wicked thing that can mean the difference between life worth living and not feeling worthy of life. Apathy is insidious. You can’t see it or touch it but it can put a hole right through your heart without leaving a mark.

I know that throughout most days Apathy means little, but Apathy constantly drilled into you day after day, and reinforced by the rest of your world time and time again………it’s like being pulverized into sand.

However….today I am not going to be hurt. Today I am not going to be put in a position where I am forced to do anything I don’t want to. Today I am not going to say anything I will regret. Today I will use Apathy in my defense to protect myself and my son.

I imagine that if I were being shot at and the assailant dropped their gun, I would pick up that weapon and defend myself to the death. Yet, to choose Apathy as my weapon, knowing how to use it and how it’s been used against me, knowing I need to use it….well, it feels so heavy, so burdensome, and so overkill.

Sometimes I need to fight like the enemy. And that is the most disturbing truth of all.

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WordPress is either loading verrryyy slowly or not at all and it’s not easy keeping up with other people’s blogs or simply managing my own.

A mechanical problem forced me to cancel a therapy appointment. I have many questions about recent events, inside and out, and there is no one to turn to.

All this work over the past couple of years and I’m nothing more than a whiny, old bitch.

Nothing will get done if I’m a silly, stupid, scardey cat, so it’s time to just do stuff. No more over-analyzing every possible outcome of every situation. I am tired of just sitting there, waiting for something to happen and then nothing gets done. No more sitting on my ass wondering if this will hurt, this might trigger, etc.

This DID shit keeps holding me back from life. It puts my life in perspective and helps me understand myself, but it has also been limiting. That is my own fault. I get a diagnosis and I freeze. Bullshit. Everything I do lately is bullshit. I won’t sit here and let DID be my life or my excuse for life.

I don’t know how others deal with day-to-day life, but I have been afraid to do anything for fear of losing control, being triggered, or being hurt. I’m so tired and disappointed in myself for watching life drift by and not joining in.

From the novel that was my only friend, confidant, and inspiration through middle school:

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.”

Kate (www.kate1975.wordpress.com) wrote a post about child sexual abuse as an adult. This weekend it will be 16 years since my father last sexually abused me.

*Sexual Trigger*

The first weekend in July in 1994 I was 28 years old and my parents drove to my home, unexpectedly, with a rented truck and my aunt and uncle and emptied out my home and said I had to move in with them. I don’t know exactly why or at least I don’t remember. That night in the Holiday Inn motel my 2 year-old son was sleeping next to me when I felt something on my leg. It was 2:45am and my father was in my bed, had pulled back the covers and pulled up my nightshirt. He was molesting me and I think would have done worse if I hadn’t woken up. I said “No more.”, pulled down my night shirt, and put the covers back on me.

I didn’t say “No more” like an empowered you-can’t-do-that-to-me-anymore woman. I said it, and meant it, as a very tired, betrayed, fed up, hopeless, single mother, depressed, just-leave-me-alone woman.

I feel embarrassed that it happened and that I didn’t have enough self confidence to protect the toddler next to me, much less myself. I realize I was still, or had reverted back to, a sexually abused child frame of mind.

My son doesn’t know that his grandfather did that to me while he was lying next to me. Someday I would like to tell him, though.

It took me several months and three therapists and a psychiatrist to finally find someone who could help me. As Kate wrote, it’s difficult to find information or insight for people who are sexually abused well into adulthood. However I did, but it still took 14 years to really get on the right track therapeutically.

So, Kate got me thinking, and I feel it’s an important issue to think about, and I’m very glad she brought it up.