That Night....

Last year, in mid June I called 911 to come to my house for a domestic disturbance. Ex was wasted off vodka, and in a downward PTSD spiral. The police arrested him, he was in jail for 4 days, and there was a no contact order for 30 days. I lied to the police. The police lied on their report...but this is what happened.

Stupidly, ex wanted to watch Restrepo and i let him try to watch it for the 5th time. He couldn't handle it (understandable) and then turned on some other war movie, i don't remember the name but it was fiction. He couldn't handle that one either. He began to scream at me and berate me, about my not understanding what he did, what all he went through, what all of them went through. I managed to get the kids locked into the master bedroom, with a movie going. Ex continued to scream at me about any and everything...for over 3 hours. I tried everything-calm voice to de-escalate, yelling back to match him, walking away (that didn't work-he physically cornered me, raising his fist as I cried hysterically). At one point he decided to dismantle and clean MY 9mm. When I asked him to stop doing it because it scared me, drop the gun piece at me; the pieces bounced up and hit my leg, causing a small cut and some blood. I was freaked out and pissed, so i threw 2 of the big pieces at the wall (not at him, nowhere near him at all), and caused holes. No, I am not proud of that, but it's what happened. He preyed upon that, calling me crazy; then he went for his keys, to drive to liquor store for more vodka....

I made the mistake of trying to physically block him from his keys (he had 2 DUIs already), and he pushed me. I fell over the back of the couch, onto the floor, hitting my head. (It's not the first time something like that had happened; the summer before, it happened but it was outside, and i hit my head on the concrete.) Still, I did't call the police. I tried to reason with him to not drive. Next thing I knew, he'd gone into the bedroom, gotten the 2 tomahawks (gifts from me and an Army unit) and he pushed them into my throat...his arms crossed, blades at each of my external jugulars, and he said something...i can't remember what...and had this disconnected, Joker type laugh. Once I got away, that is when I finally called 911.

I made the decision to not tell the cops about the tomahawks, because I was worried about how much trouble he would be in if i did. I told the truth about everything else, but the cops wrote it up in their report that I said he threw the gun at me (I did not, and i did not write that in my victim statement). They said I stated there was a history of violence (there was, but I stated there was a history of verbal fighting). He went to jail.

My intention was not to send him to jail, I just needed someone to step in and mediate. Did he deserve jail for 4 days? In hindsight, yes. Then, he had me so messed up that I was apologizing to him, and I even cut myself for the first time in years. Because of how messed up i was, I went to the ADA's office and begged for them to give him Veteran's Court instead of criminal court. And they did. Has it helped? No, not really. Did he stop putting hands on me? yes. Did he stop abusing me? no.

I say all this, not to slam him, but to finally say it out loud. And to acknowledge all of it. And to show that I have actually made progress.

I also want to say that we were happy once, so fucking happy, truly happy. He was not always this way, and I blame the war, but he also has refused help at every turn. PTSD and TBI mess up people so much, and then so many self medicate with alcohol or drugs. I don't know what to do to fix it, but I want it out there, that ex is one of those; and that I am one of those whose a victim.

I will be okay. My kids will be okay. My fur babies will be okay. My ex? He will not be okay; not until he is forced to get help.

Coparenting...Challenge Accepted

I need to remember this, and I need to share this with my ex. Last night and this morning, we got into it via text, and then on the phone. I am not proud of that, but it is what it is. This shit is HARD, and I am trying my best to keep it civil but sometimes, I just lose it. I am still angry about what has happened, but everyday I am able to forgive a little bit more. 

Today, ex visited with the kids which gave me a MUCH needed break for a few hours. I sat in Starbucks and enjoyed a breakfast. I cleaned out my Twitter and FB, and locked down both of them. I even came up with a proposal about what I want in the divorce. Shockingly, he wasn't opposed to the vast majority of it (I sent it to him via email, and then he called). The kids and dogs enjoyed him visiting (they visited here at the house), and he took them to the dentist. Then I went to therapy and it was great...I seriously cannot explain how helpful it is to have a professional to talk to about all of this. If I did not have my therapist, I have no doubt that i would be nuts right now. 

Next step is trying to foster the relationship between the kids and ex. His brain injury is apparently severe, which makes everything so complicated. I need to somehow explain to the kids how their daddy's brain works differently than other people's brains; and how his emotions, words, and memory are negatively affected. I think THAT is the hardest part, knowing that he is this way because he chose to serve our country; yes, he is also an alcoholic, but the TBI is terrible. 

I pray and hope that he gets help for all of his issues so that he can be the best father possible to our kids. But now, his issues are no longer mine to deal with on a regular basis. My plate is full with the kids, the pets, and my life. Right now, my new life is my highest priority. 

Just Breathe

That quote, just breathe, will be my next tattoo....well, after the cover up tattoo to hide the tattoo of my ex's name (yes, I am already referring to him as my ex because for emotional and physical purposes, he is). I have to remind myself several times a day to just breathe....to just get through the next few seconds. Today, I had to do it in the middle of a CrossFit WOD because I was about to breakdown in tears. I don't cry because I lost some wonderful husband to another woman; I cry because, war messed up his brain, and alcoholism messed it up worse, and my kids and I were robbed of so much. Right now, I hate him...for hurting me, for hurting our kids, for making me feel completely worthless at times, for continually lying to me. Bella is saying telling people "daddy broke up with us" and Jax is saying "I'll beat up Daddy if he comes home." (I do NOT bad mouth my ex in front of them, but Jax is angry with him for leaving.) I do not love him, but I *do* love the man that I married and I am sad that he is gone forever and I am left to pick up the pieces of my life and my kids' lives. And dammit, I am so overwhelmed that I try to hold back the tears until the kids go to bed so that they don't worry about me.  

For a while (in hindsight, perhaps since I gained custody of the kids), Jax has shown symptoms of a sensory issue. The symptoms have worsened the older he's gotten, and maybe since I have stayed at home with him and Bella for the past year, I finally really noticed them. He is an insanely picky eater, much worse than even Bella was at his age. He is super sensitive to heat. If he gets wet when he is not supposed to be wet, he HAS to change clothes or there is a meltdown; same with getting sand or dirt on his clothes (like, he sometimes will change clothes 3 times in a day). He is flapping A LOT when excited or even playing soccer. He LOVES to spin and does it a lot. He uses too much force on objects. He sometimes just runs into me for no reason. He constantly makes noises, to the point that today (almost through tears) I told him that I loved him, and I understood that he couldn't control his noises, but that i needed a break; so he ate lunch in his playroom. He hits kids, or pushes them too hard during play time. He does a shiver when I touch him while getting on to him (like if I touch his arm or his face to get him to pay attention). 

Last week he was evaluated by an occupational therapist, a referral that was originally made due to a deficit in fine motor skill development, so I should have some answers this week. To say that I am anxious is an understatement. Adding OT and a sensory issue on top of everything makes me want to run away, but I can't (and deep down I don't want to) because I am his mommy. I am the only consistent, safe parent that he has in this world, and I take that responsibility very seriously. So I will add this onto my plate of everything, and I will do it because I am his mommy. 

It's not only his OT that is overwhelming, it's the thought of possibly having to put him into public school...nope, can't even deal with that. I am thankful that I have such awesome friends both on the internet and in real life, because they are giving me all sorts of leads on non-selling work at home jobs. I pray that I can continue to homeschool because both children excel at it, and Bella cries at the thought of having to deal with bullies again at school. 

Today during the kids' soccer games I had a moment of zen :) Jax's game was done and we were watching Bella's game while he ate supper (sandwich Lunchable). I looked at him and told him to smile for a picture, and this is what I got <3

This kid, who is so happy to just be at the soccer fields eating his sandwich. He is happy so much, no matter what diagnosis he gets, he won't care and he will be happy. He thinks OT is a big playroom. He isn't stressing about it, so I am going to try my best to not stress about it either. 

I Am Enough (because I have to be)

If I am 100% honest with myself, I have been a single parent since the day our kids got off the plane with the social workers. Of course, he was deployed back then, but nothing really changed when he got home. Yes, he was here physically, but 95% of the time I did 100% of the parenting. I did bath, bed time, school/homework, took them to sports practice, made meals, washed clothes, took to appointments...I did all of it. He did the fun stuff like fishing, rough housing, and video games. Now all of that is up to me, and it is a crushing responsibility.

Everyday I feel like I fail them in some way. At the end of everyday I beat myself up for being too strict, or too lax; for not doing enough formal school (even though we are registered unschoolers); for not making them eat the nutritious supper that I made, and instead letting them eat cereal, pb&j, or Spaghetti-O's; for not reading enough (or at all) to them; and so many more reasons.  In short, I doubt myself every single day & wonder if I am enough...

Then I remember that now, I have to be enough. Their father hasn't called them one time since he left. He did manage to get them Easter baskets and drop them off while we were at church, so at least there's that. He has only asked about them one time since he left. My heart hurts for them. I get that he hates me right now, and that he (seemingly) doesn't care about our marriage ending; however, I don't understand how he can forget them so easily.

My kids, they are the most important people in the world to me. I will do anything to make sure that they feel loved, but there is no guidebook for this. Part of me thinks I should move back to my home state so I would have some family support, but then I remember how much the kids and I love the beach, and our house, and our church. Plus, finding a place that would accept 5 large dogs and 2 cats would be virtually impossible. And I want to keep the kids' lives as routine as possible during all this.

They are worth it. They are worth all of the struggle. I can do this. I have to do this.

No Regrets

This quote from SATC is great, and is something that my therapist and I talked about during my first session. No, she didn't use this exact quote (though that would've been awesome), but the meaning was the same. I broke down crying about the years I'd spent on the relationship, the career I'd given up because of military moves and then when we decided that I would stay at home. Her words were truth and comforting...that I had done what anyone would do-I kept my promises and vows; he's the one who (repeatedly) broke those promises. I cannot spend time regretting my choices or emotionally beating myself up. I did what I was supposed to do as a spouse, it was my husband that did not. 

So now I look forward to new beginnings, and better things. I am doing my best to not try to look/plan too far into the future, because that would drive me crazy. Each day will get a little better, and I will be a little closer to whomever I need to be. 

Power

My husband, P, left me. It was a long time coming, and things were more bad than good for years. War changed him....changed his brain, but he was not willing to truly receive help. Even now, he has been off his meds for at least a week (he left them here).

I used to be afraid to speak up about his behavior. He told me not to talk to anyone about our problems, but I am done being concerned with him and his wants. He chose alcohol, and another woman, over me...so I am done.

My first therapy session was a few days after he left. After he told me that he didn't want to be married any more. After he'd started an inappropriate "friendship" (700+ texts between them in days...yeah, more than friends i do believe) with a female coworker. After he refused again to stop binge drinking every day that he didn't work. I cried to her, and told her everything. I told her about the domestic violence arrest and how he blamed me for him being jailed, even though his behavior necessitated me calling law enforcement. I told her about the binge drinking, and the refusal to get help. I told her about my walking on eggshells, and how I covered for him at our gym ("oh, he's working/tired/sleeping"). I told her about him getting angry with me if I talked to friends about our problems. I told her about him calling the money "his money" since we had agreed that I would stay home with the kids while he worked. And then she said the words "You realize that these are all signs of emotional abuse. Whether consciously or not, he has been emotionally abusing for years." And then I cried, while agreeing with her.

Saying those words and accepting it was both terrifying and freeing. I have a professional and educational background in mental health, how could I let this happen to me?! Why did I allow him to come home after the domestic violence incident?! How can I ever trust my judgment regarding men again?! How am I going to raise my children, and keep the house, and keep our pets on my own?!

And then the therapist and I talked more...and she said these words, "You have more power than you think." She's right, I do. I also stopped covering for him, and when mutual friends have asked where he is, I reply truthfully...and then they have all offered help in one way or another. I have plans this weekend with a friend and her son. My family has rallied around the kids and me. I still worry about the future, but I know that my kids and I have enough support to get through this.

I am sharing to let others know, you are not alone and sharing is power.

My Best

I needed to see this today. And I need to tell myself this every single day. Being a mother is a challenge. Homeschooling my children is a challenge. Being a wife and caregiver to my husband, an Army Veteran, is a challenge.....a big challenge, possibly the biggest challenge that I've ever faced. 

P, my husband, is in the beginning process of getting medically retired from the military. Now in addition to his regular medical and mental health appointments, he has appointments with the VA (several hours away). This means that my appointments are on the back burner, because I need him home with the kids when I'm at my appointments. And no, getting a sitter isn't an option because we simply cannot afford a sitter that often. 

I do the best that I can everyday, but some days (like today) I get overwhelmed with guilt that I am not doing enough, or doing the right stuff. I worry that I am not doing enough school with the kids (which is ridiculous, because they learn all the time and they are young). I worry that every parenting mistake that I've ever made, the kids will remember (again, ridiculous). I worry that the stress of being a caregiver will overtake my marriage. I worry about not having enough life to live my life. 

Don't get me wrong, I love my family and I love staying at home. I just feel stretched, like I have nothing more to give...but I can't stop giving. 

I ordered this book today, Each Day a New Beginning: Daily Meditations fro Women. I plan to get up each morning and read it before the kids wake up. I have to do something peaceful for me, so that i can continue to give.