Coming Back

I'm coming back. It's wonderful. Little things that are big things are easier again. I have been dealing with trauma and abuse for a long time, and I wasn't sure what parts of me were authentically myself and what parts were the trauma and survival mode. I'm pleased with the me that is slowly emerging, slowly returning in some ways, and growing in others.

I like my work more and more. Grading doesn't feel so daunting and overwhelming to the point where I can't even start. I had resigned myself to the space I was in. I had resigned myself to be forever ADD. Forever unable to focus and concentrate, to adjust my teaching to this new self who could not handle grading papers. That was fine, I'd just assign less writing, have the students "grade" each other, etc. There are ways around things. But now, I like giving feedback, I like correcting misconceptions. I like researching new, better teaching methods again. I have more energy for those things and I care about them again. That makes me happy.

I have energy to care about my home again. I've struggled with housekeeping for years. Things got disgusting fairly regularly in my home as soon as I was no longer a stay-at-home mom--even sometimes before then. I had resigned myself to this, too. To just not seeing the mess because I couldn't handle how overwhelming doing and being everything was all by myself. I thought I was just a messy person. A mess inside and out. But those messes bother me and I care enough to take care of it, now. I have enough mental energy to nag the kids and get them to take care of things, too. We have less and less fits and fighting about cleaning up. Now, sometimes, it's even a family activity that we enjoy together. This is a strange new space we are sometimes occupying: enjoying cleaning together. Not all the time. It is definitely not "fun" all the time. But even sometimes not having to beg and plead and bribe and scream and threaten to get things done is a lovely thing. I am by no means a neat freak and will likely always have some slight disorganization and a bit of mess here and there, but I also like having things cleaned up. Right now, if someone popped over to my house, I would be unembarrassed about its state, and would even let them use the bathroom. This makes me happy.

The kids are doing better, too, because I am doing better. I have space to listen to promptings and energy to be patient and boundaries to be firm. I am so far from perfect. We have a long way to go with our healing. We all still have triggers and episodes of post traumatic stress, but things are better. Our biggest current stresses are getting ready for my daughter's birthday party and making sure my son has his clothes together for his Christmas play performance. Happy stress.

But the ex is coming home soon. He's been in treatment for six weeks and he comes home next week and I have so much anxiety about it I sometimes feel like throwing up. Oh how I wish he could stay away forever. But his communications while in treatment have been civil. They've been brief and to the point and they even make sense. Perhaps treatment actually helped him. Perhaps he will act like a sane human being, now. Perhaps the kids will be able to have a safe and healthy father. That would be ideal. But I don't trust it. I won't trust it to last. I have a decade of evidence to support his relapses and psychopathy. He will have to be consistently healthy for a very long time before I would even consider trusting that any progress is real. I get to meet with mediators and lawyers a whole bunch more this month. The kids have their very own lawyer, now. A guardian ad litem. Hopefully she can help keep them safe. We'll see what happens.

I just have to continue practicing giving things to Heavenly Father and letting Him hold us and guide us and carry us as He always does.
More than anything else, that is what gives me peace
and makes me happy.