So, I have to move to go to law school. I'm having problems finding a house in the area in which I want to live that is also in my price range. I'm starting to get worried. I don't have enough saved up, it's too damn expensive to move.
But at least I have been feeling better than I did last week. I'm trying really hard to be excited about moving and going back to school, maybe after I find a house I will be a bit more excited about it.
I feel like I've been losing time lately. I have this fear in the back of my mind (probably because it's happened before) that I will get caught not remembering a conversation or that I did something. I am absolutely terrified that the stress of school will cause me to start losing time again, switching and, God forbid, getting depressed. I remember the days of being absolutely convinced that my kids would be better off without me, that I was a detriment to my kid's lives, that the best thing for them was for me to kill myself and save them from my "craziness." In retrospect, I see so clearly that I was just beyond depressed. The stress of my marriage and the trauma that was trying to purge itself from my system was simply too much. Not to mention, my husband was abusive to the kids and to me, but I was so caught up in the fact that he was my hero that I was blind to his abuse. He had after all rescued me from an impossible situation. My oldest was an infant, I was alone, no job, no education, no prospects. He treated me kindly and with love, I should have been grateful. But the kindness was replaced with hostility and anger. He was abusive to me in very intimate ways, ways I would not even be fully aware of for many years. He was also physically abusive to my son, spanking him, striking him in the head, screaming at him relentlessly. For several years, I too participated in the abuse. I spanked him and yelled at him. But when I realized the error of my ways, I stopped, but my husband didn't; he continued into my son's teenage years, also abusing our other children, but to a significantly lesser degree. When he raged, I froze, trained up by the adults in my childhood to never resist, to never fight back, to never question. I was groomed from infancy to tolerate abuse - to any degree, to anybody, and the stress of watching it almost daily in my adult life kept me trapped in my dissociation, unable to recover, unable to be happy, unable to move forward. I was paralyzed. It wasn't until I realized, I mean really realized, that no one could help me, no one could rescue me, no one could save me, that I understood that it was up to me. I was on my own. It was either change my life...or die. And I was the only one who could do it.
I am so happy to have my life to myself now. I am so happy to be making my own choices, but at the same time it's terrifying. It's a terrifying concept to be completely responsible for the welfare of myself and my kids. All choices, good or bad, can come back on only one person and that's daunting to say the least.
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