Today went to River Valley Services. Lovely. I was dreading it. I was actually terrified of going until Cindy said she'd take me. At first she wasn't going to be able to and I am terrified of going to these places anyway, never mind alone. I am afraid to go anywhere alone.
For two hours I talked to Brianna. A pixie of a young black woman with fluffy hair, pulled back from a thin, pretty face. She was kind.
I - again - retold the synopsis of my life. The things that have happened, things I've done, places I've been. Smiled my way through it - cried just a little.
Cindy was there.
I caught her crying a couple times.
It occurs to me that I've told this story before - so, so many times - or at least in bits and pieces.
People say things like:
"Really?"
or
"No shit?!"
or
"Oh my God!"
or
"That's terrible!"
But it occurs to me that I have never heard anyone say, "I believe you."
This won't be the last time I tell this story. I know this. I knew it as we found our parking spot because I won't take part in a conglomerate for long. They're all the same and, trust me: I know. I've been in enough of them to know if you've seen one, you've seen them all.
I'm sure most of them care, but society doesn't so funding is minimal and we - the survivors and sufferers who desperately want to heal - become another file.
Oh that rant I could go on and on about but I won't.
What I will say is this: Michelle - the lying, misleading, untrustworthy therapist I spent almost a year with - made me realize some people don't believe you. She was the first time I ever thought, "Oh my God, she didn't believe me."
And today, I thought: People don't believe you. They don't.
Perhaps they can't.
For whatever reason(s) they can't say, "I believe you, and I love you anyway."
So much, that people don't know. So, so much.
So much.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Escape
Don't even have a clue how to start this blog. So many mixed emotions.
I left and spent the week with Bill in PA last week. Trevor stayed home. I made arrangements for him to have all he needed, plus emergency contacts, plus Cindy stayed with him Wednesday and Thursday night. I was grateful for that, although it makes my heart ache to know he opens up with her - and others - far more than with me. I know this is a natural thing, but I'd always thought Trevor would trust me enough to come to me with his problems.
What I discovered was his five year tenure in the life of Gary and the time he spent in HK Middle school, really traumatized him and hurt him and the whole time - the whole time - I was blind to it. There were times when I thought about leaving Gary and then thought better of it, because I thought the school was so good to Trevor, never realizing how badly he was struggling. Now, he refuses the help he desperately needs and I believe he will be in 10th grade again next year.
And there's nothing I can do about it.
Today - along with the rent - I sent a card to Tony in jail. I don't know how it will be received - his last words were not all that kind. That relationship is complicated, so complex and none of it is his fault, really. It's all me. At least the relationship part.
While in PA, after three days, I finally ventured outside to the pool. Middle of the day, nobody there. Mostly I stayed in the motel room - which was fine. I had work to get done.
But one day I did go out to the pool and sit for a little while. I had to go into the office and ask them to open it up. I had to interact with people. I felt a lot different there, than here. I still had bad dreams, but nothing like what I experience every day, here.
When Thursday rolled around, my anxiety started going up - the opposite of what I usually experience. I knew we had to head home the next day. Then Bill told me they asked him to work Saturday, so it eased just a little, until I spoke with the school's special ed coordinator. She told me Trevor was being argumentative and oppositional and not cooperating. She said they can't force him to do the work (he could - if he chose - to do the make-up work, earn extra credits, and possibly pass) and that "there are consequences in life."
I had to sympathize with her. I agree. But it hurts. I feel like I've failed him and I don't know what to do about it. His new relationship is obsessive. He obsesses over it as if it is all he lives for. And even at home he argues and is disrespectful. I don't know what to do about it. Grounding doesn't work. He just becomes more obstinate. Talking doesn't work. He won't talk. He gives, what I call, "non-answers" - which helps nothing.
I miss PA. Not necessarily PA but the lack of anxiety I felt there.
I met a group of people who work with Bill at the same place. Friday night we all sat out around the BBQ pits and grills and chatted and laughed. I sang. Met a guy named Ron whose gold tooth reminded me of St. Louis and, Lo' and behold, he's from St. Louis. In fact, just around the corner from where I lived.
I described to him where I'd lived, hung out, went to school, etc. and his response was, "Daaaaamn you WAS in the hood!"
In some strange way, it was nice to be validated.
He was familiar with the newspaper that ran the story about my kidnapping, although he didn't know the story. I asked him to please get me a copy of that paper so I can ask them about their archives. I want that article.
I laughed that night but I know it was partly because I was escaping. I drank quite a bit. I was friendly. I had originally sat out there under the trees and cried. Nobody was there - just me - and I cried over what to do.
As we drove home, I realized the more we live and experience, the more we see things that remind us of something else.
For me, seeing the water and boats and marinas turns my stomach. I feel sad because, for me, that is a big loss. I've always been a lover of the sea, but my experience with Gary ruined something beautiful. Trevor still suffers from it, as do I.
Just another monster. I wonder, sometimes, who the greater monster is: Gary or my father and my rapists. I expected to be raped and beaten and put through what I was put through by Daddy and my attackers. I never in my wildest dreams expected to be put through what Gary put us through.
A giant Italian monster who has ruined this place - and so many other things - for me, and for Trevor. As we drove back, Connecticut didn't seem nearly as pretty and colorful and full of life as it once did. When we first came here in 2005, it was colorful and beautiful and fresh. Now it's cluttered and grey and dismal.
Now I go back into isolation.
Thanks G.E.T.
To be happier in a place like Lancaster PA than here, says a lot. I don't like being inland - never have - but God it was nice to get away, even if the real "getaway" lasted just four days before the anxiety over returning kicked in.
Bill left to return back there about an hour ago. A sad time for me. And I'm already overwhelmed, knowing what I need to get done.
This place really drags me down. I wonder what it does to Trevor.
Thanks to all who helped me feel secure and safe leaving Trevor on his own. You're wonderful, beautiful people. He did good and had no problems (plus had plenty of food leftover!).
XOXOXO
I left and spent the week with Bill in PA last week. Trevor stayed home. I made arrangements for him to have all he needed, plus emergency contacts, plus Cindy stayed with him Wednesday and Thursday night. I was grateful for that, although it makes my heart ache to know he opens up with her - and others - far more than with me. I know this is a natural thing, but I'd always thought Trevor would trust me enough to come to me with his problems.
What I discovered was his five year tenure in the life of Gary and the time he spent in HK Middle school, really traumatized him and hurt him and the whole time - the whole time - I was blind to it. There were times when I thought about leaving Gary and then thought better of it, because I thought the school was so good to Trevor, never realizing how badly he was struggling. Now, he refuses the help he desperately needs and I believe he will be in 10th grade again next year.
And there's nothing I can do about it.
Today - along with the rent - I sent a card to Tony in jail. I don't know how it will be received - his last words were not all that kind. That relationship is complicated, so complex and none of it is his fault, really. It's all me. At least the relationship part.
While in PA, after three days, I finally ventured outside to the pool. Middle of the day, nobody there. Mostly I stayed in the motel room - which was fine. I had work to get done.
But one day I did go out to the pool and sit for a little while. I had to go into the office and ask them to open it up. I had to interact with people. I felt a lot different there, than here. I still had bad dreams, but nothing like what I experience every day, here.
When Thursday rolled around, my anxiety started going up - the opposite of what I usually experience. I knew we had to head home the next day. Then Bill told me they asked him to work Saturday, so it eased just a little, until I spoke with the school's special ed coordinator. She told me Trevor was being argumentative and oppositional and not cooperating. She said they can't force him to do the work (he could - if he chose - to do the make-up work, earn extra credits, and possibly pass) and that "there are consequences in life."
I had to sympathize with her. I agree. But it hurts. I feel like I've failed him and I don't know what to do about it. His new relationship is obsessive. He obsesses over it as if it is all he lives for. And even at home he argues and is disrespectful. I don't know what to do about it. Grounding doesn't work. He just becomes more obstinate. Talking doesn't work. He won't talk. He gives, what I call, "non-answers" - which helps nothing.
I miss PA. Not necessarily PA but the lack of anxiety I felt there.
I met a group of people who work with Bill at the same place. Friday night we all sat out around the BBQ pits and grills and chatted and laughed. I sang. Met a guy named Ron whose gold tooth reminded me of St. Louis and, Lo' and behold, he's from St. Louis. In fact, just around the corner from where I lived.
I described to him where I'd lived, hung out, went to school, etc. and his response was, "Daaaaamn you WAS in the hood!"
In some strange way, it was nice to be validated.
He was familiar with the newspaper that ran the story about my kidnapping, although he didn't know the story. I asked him to please get me a copy of that paper so I can ask them about their archives. I want that article.
I laughed that night but I know it was partly because I was escaping. I drank quite a bit. I was friendly. I had originally sat out there under the trees and cried. Nobody was there - just me - and I cried over what to do.
As we drove home, I realized the more we live and experience, the more we see things that remind us of something else.
For me, seeing the water and boats and marinas turns my stomach. I feel sad because, for me, that is a big loss. I've always been a lover of the sea, but my experience with Gary ruined something beautiful. Trevor still suffers from it, as do I.
Just another monster. I wonder, sometimes, who the greater monster is: Gary or my father and my rapists. I expected to be raped and beaten and put through what I was put through by Daddy and my attackers. I never in my wildest dreams expected to be put through what Gary put us through.
A giant Italian monster who has ruined this place - and so many other things - for me, and for Trevor. As we drove back, Connecticut didn't seem nearly as pretty and colorful and full of life as it once did. When we first came here in 2005, it was colorful and beautiful and fresh. Now it's cluttered and grey and dismal.
Now I go back into isolation.
Thanks G.E.T.
To be happier in a place like Lancaster PA than here, says a lot. I don't like being inland - never have - but God it was nice to get away, even if the real "getaway" lasted just four days before the anxiety over returning kicked in.
Bill left to return back there about an hour ago. A sad time for me. And I'm already overwhelmed, knowing what I need to get done.
This place really drags me down. I wonder what it does to Trevor.
Thanks to all who helped me feel secure and safe leaving Trevor on his own. You're wonderful, beautiful people. He did good and had no problems (plus had plenty of food leftover!).
XOXOXO
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