When he gets out - 61 days and counting

Yes, sixty-one days and counting. I try not to think about it, but I find that it is all I can think about. Why? Well, one of the main reasons is the unknown I am currently facing - when he gets out on extended supervision will he be placed at the temporary living placement 6 blocks from my house, or not. I am still waiting to hear from probation on that drama.

See When He Gets Out - The Timeline for the background.

For those of you new to my blog and story the short summary is..
He is my ex husband and abuser who is serving 8 yrs of initial confinement in the Wisconsin Prison System for sexual assault and battery against me, the woman who spent nearly 20 years with him and gave birth to our two sons. A crime he did in front of our two boys.

When he gets out he will have 6 yrs of extended supervision yet to serve, and I am still waiting to hear where he will begin that journey...6 blocks from where I lay my head down to sleep each night (like sleep will happen) or somewhere else.

I'm a tough cookie but this living nightmare is taking a toll on me. ..so, when it gets tough, I write, and I vent. A trend you will see here on my blog in the postings from when I first started it in 2008.

It is hard to describe the emotional roller coaster ride I am stuck on at this moment. One moment I am pissed off fighting the urge to organize a protest, and the next moment I am listening to stupid hair band ballads from the 80's, reminding me of a time when I was blind, wearing rose colored glasses, and in love with the man who has caused me so many tears and pain.

PTSD is a bitch, because in the midst of those memories I get the flashbacks of that final attack, him on top of me....my boys standing feet away, his hand around my throat...me crying but trying not to escalate the situation...and then the cutting comment that came out of his mouth, "What's wrong, does this remind you of your childhood?" The moment he stated that I knew he was in control of what he was doing....there was no blaming alcohol, him being depressed...etc. He knew those words would cut like nothing else - who needs a weapon when emotional abuse will leave the deepest wounds?

There's that flashback, and then all the nights of threats leading up to that attack - the threat he would rape me, kill me and burn the house down around me.

When the flashbacks hit, I tell myself it is normal...and it is for survivors to have to deal with triggers. At least I no longer get the panic attacks I once did right after the assault, now I can just talk to and calm myself down through that plunge of the roller coaster ride.

This is what survivors must deal with throughout their journey. Walking out of HELL is a hot messy trip.

Those triggers are fueling my fire to get changes of the law enacted in Wisconsin. Truly, placing an abuser on extended supervision so close to their victim shouldn't even be part of the dialogue, but until Wisconsin creates policies in the Dept. of Corrections and enacts legislation that would give victims (I HATE THAT WORD - but, in legal terms that is how the law refers to us) a legal voice in the offender re-entry process, what I am currently living through WILL happen again and to someone else.

Maybe I am reaching for the stars on this one, but it has to be healthier than stepping back into HELL.

Please take a look at the following petition - read it, sign it and help me make all of this that is happening in my life right now for a greater reason...a purpose...something that will help and perhaps save someone else from this torture.

Victims' Rights in Wisconsin - Petition - Maybe it should be called the "Survivors' Law"

A little inspiration ........

History Shrouded in Mold - Part 1

Sipping my morning coffee I sit on my bed looking out almost century old windows and into the backyards of my neighbors. This morning was no different. The sky is grey and there is a slight chill in the air, reminding me that outside that glass is another world filled with life and adventure, stories to tell and lessons to be learned...knowledge to be gained. In other words, hope. That sentiment brings back the emotions I felt as a little girl. Then, I sat on my bed looking out the massive Victorian era windows of the 3rd floor apartment we called home. It was in the mid 70s -Evanston, Illinois. I loved being able to see into the green of the trees that lined our street. Between the leaves and branches was another world playing out before my eyes. The birds, the squirrels and sometimes even a stray cat - they lived out a day in their life without ever knowing they had an audience taking in their story. I would spend a lot of time watching them and getting to know their personalit

A Pay it Forward Christmas...

The Christmas Clues came all month long.....a month filled with constant motion ..chaos...stress...and deep inside me the usual holiday dread. Those clues helped to divert my attention away from the emptiness that has been in me for the last few years.... Those memories of a large family coming together where I was the hostess for all the holiday feasts....the memories that usually remind me of the last few years and how much the boys and I have lost when domestic violence entered our home...and what destruction it left in it's wake. Yes, the clues had me looking forward to time that in the last three years or so I would wish I could close my eyes around mid-November and wake up on Jan 1st - yes, me...the one time overly merry hostess had turned bitter towards the holidays. This is the first year in a very long time that I have actually looked forward to Christmas.... That Secret Santa...and those elves....must have known that I was dreading another Christmas...another holiday in

Healing Hearts an outloud journal post.

https://pixabay.com/users/artsybee-462611/ Healing hearts, or I should say the desire to, comes with admitting one’s own wounds which are in need of repairs. I’ve spent the past couple of weeks appearing to be quiet but really I was just doing some internal work while my body adjusted to a switch in medication to combat autoimmune flares. A few years ago I would have tried to push through such a thing and not allow my body, and even my mind, a chance to go through what it needs, I would have pretended I felt fine when I didn’t, thinking that made me strong. In reality such behavior made me weaker and landed me where I am today. Anyway, that lull allowed me to do quite a bit of thinking, planning and decision making. Right now the money raised for the Healing Hearts kickoff campaign is sitting in Go Fund Me — no withdraws made as I am waiting to hear back from an organization and person I trust to take those funds and get them where they need to be, to address crisis intervention for th

Thankfully Chewed Up and Spat Back Out!

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