Triggered by his name

Just saw his name mentioned on FB. Another friend I guess I'll have to delete. Tagged him at the Pattaconk - just like old times, I guess.

My whole body jolted. Just seeing his name. Remembering the things he did.

It's been determined that Trevor will need therapy to deal with the years he spent with Gary. Having talked with two separate LCSW's about getting help for Trevor, they've told me it's not something he will talk to me about, beyond his usual "I won't ever let you live [your relationship with Gary] down." They said he's going to need to talk to someone who will listen to him talk about the things Gary put him through.

I feel horribly guilty about this. I knew it was an issue. Gary and I constantly fought over Trevor. Mostly because he believed Trevor should behave like a "normal" kid and do "normal" things. Trevor was a puzzle piece that didn't fit neatly into Gary's picture-perfect image.

The day he said to Trevor that he was going to shove his fist down his throat, I should have left. That day. That instant. In that moment.

Instead, I stuck around and allowed him to theoretically do it to both Trevor and myself and now we are both paying for it. What he put Trevor through - what I allowed him to put Trevor through - is a terrible mistake that I have to live with and learn to heal and move on. My stupidity, hope and blindness kept me from leaving, as well as his repeated promises of change. So now Trevor and I carry this enormous bag, filled with five years of pain and hurt and humiliation and not being good enough.

While he goes out to karaoke at the Pattaconk.

And he has the audacity - the sheer idiotic, unimaginable insolence - to think I'm obsessed and want him involved in my life?

I couldn't be far enough away from him and his lies and his fakeness and perversions and distortions.

So grateful to have people in my life who understand and who know how just driving north on Route 9 causes me enormous anxiety. They know - have seen themselves - the emotional, physical and mental effects of his abuse and neglect. They help me, talk to me and mostly just understand. For that I am grateful. Trevor is a different story, though. He hides his emotions or, at least, cannot identify them. Just speaks of his hatred of the man and those years in Haddam when he was the victim of constant badgering and put-downs.

We have a lot of healing to do.