Pushing past the fear...

I read my old blogs today; the early ones, the raw ones. And all through it, tears spilled down my face. I felt strangely disconnected and yet completely affected; I felt as though I was reading about a priceless friend whom I had let down by exposing her to such harm. I felt like I was out of my body, dealing with this on a spiritual level, and that this spirit had been hurt, more than was evident on her physical exterior. It reminded me of a story where someone had fallen and hit their head, and thought they were alright, when actually they were bleeding profusely from the forehead. But in spite of the damage, they couldn’t feel it, and it wasn’t until the blood was running down their face that they realized, “Oh my gosh, I’m bleeding – a lot – I guess I’m really injured!” Well that’s exactly how I feel. I’m bleeding – or I was – but I couldn’t entirely feel it. It’s only been since we’ve escaped that the numbness is beginning to wear off. I know that’s a good thing; we have feelings and senses for a reason; partially to tell us when something is harming us. But it also hurts, and numbness can be useful, too. It gives us the ability to push through the pain and do what we have to do. When we were still with Derek and I knew I had to find a way to leave, I got busy, and so much of the time I felt like a robot, just going through the motions, and I wondered how it was that I wasn’t crying constantly or feeling afraid. Now I know it was because my body instinctively knew to shield me, to make me numb, in order to do what otherwise would have been far too scary to do. Now that we’re away from him, the feeling is coming back. At first I was so relieved, I felt like I was breathing for the first time, and the fresh air was exhilarating. Now, we’re so much happier, and I embrace everything with an inflated sense of gratitude to the Universe. Now, I’m embroiled in the fight to completely sever our lives from this person: getting divorced, keeping the kids from being alone with Derek, trying to find work, and basically establishing all of those legal frameworks that will keep my children and me safe, secure and happy. This Monday is a pivotal day in court. Since Derek was finally served with the Order of Protection, the judge will hear the case and decide if he will make it permanent or not. I don’t think Derek will show up, but I do think his attorney will. He will cross examine me, and try his best to twist my words into something wrong. And in between now and then, Derek will send me nasty emails, threatening that I will lose everything if I don’t change my attitude – it’s so funny how even from thousands of miles away, he can’t let go the reigns of control. Initially, he told his attorney that he wanted to reach an agreement. So I tried. For a week, we emailed back and forth, discussing what we each want. And to my shock, Derek is so far out of the realm of reality that even after all of this, he doesn’t want to get divorced! And of course, he still doesn’t see that he’s an abusive, angry person. He denies it. At first it was very frustrating, and he succeeded in getting me to tangle myself back into a dialogue with him, as I tried to convince him that he was sick and needed help of some kind, and as I tried to justify my actions to him. But finally I realized, there’s not going to be any agreement with this man, because he doesn’t want to agree. He just wants to fight, and control, and keep the wheel spinning. The thing he hates the most is when I don’t respond at all. And that’s where we are now. I’m resolved to go through the attorneys and the courts, and yes, spend more money that I probably can, but it’s the only way to protect my little family. So Monday is the first of those battles, to prove that what I’m saying is true. And as that day approaches, I’ve had an increasing sense of foreboding: I look out the window a lot, and check the front door; I check on the kids more often while they’re sleeping; I walk around with a tightness in my chest over something, but nothing. Most of the time , I don’t even know what specifically I’m hurting about, I just feel the pain in an overall kind of way, letting me know that something bad happened to me, and there’s going to be some residual burning. I think it’s all m body’s way of saying, “You’re walking back into danger, you’re going too close to that bad fire, and it will surround you again. Be ware, danger, danger, be on alert!” So that’s this week. That’s part of what you have to go through to get to the other side. It’s a complex ride, this one, and I don’t know all the outcomes. In some ways, I’m in complete control like I never was with Derek. And in other ways, I have no control, and have to deal with it. Until next time, dear friend…