Memorial Day of another kind

Here we are, almost a year after a massive trauma in my life. He sexually assaulted me and I couldn’t do anything to take it public or make him pay. I’ve lived the last year in constant fear of running into him in our small community. I frequently stalk his social media to try to make sure we aren’t crossing paths. All of these things do nothing but make it worse, I’m sure.

Today was any normal day in my family’s life. For the last several years, my daughter has participated in a dance class where she excels more and more each day. She loves the spot light and the idea of being involved in a parade makes it all more exciting. Last year’s parade was cancelled like everything else thanks to COVID so this year was a huge deal. On top of my daughter participating, my son took up Karate and wanted to walk with his Karate program as well. My ex husband and I were the lowly bystanders watching them work their magic in their parade. 

Let’s flash back for just a moment to my triggers from my sexual assault. This may be TMI but pretty much everything here is going to be a trigger warning because that’s how my life works. I have issues with underwear (thanks fuckface), fire trucks (volunteer douchebag), and crowds in general. I never had these before last year but I guess it comes with the territory. So once again, thanks volunteer douchebag fuckface. 

So back to today, we’re sitting in our camping chairs along the side of the road just waiting for the parade to start. My leg is bouncing because I’ve already seen several fire trucks go by but luckily none of those were from the community he works for. Regardless, I was ready to see my kids walk and move on with my day. The balance between being excited for my kids and terrified for my own mental health is a very fine line lately. 

I joke when I’m nervous and I made a lot of funny comments with my ex husband so that helped for a moment. It kept the boredom light. Finally, we saw the shiny glitter heading our direction from my daughter’s dance team. The pride I felt seeing her walk and lead her team was wonderful. I love seeing her happy and doing things she enjoys. My son was a few groups behind them and he is my baby guys. I worry about him probably more than I should. He forgot his water in my car so we were ready to hand it to him and let him finish walking. Here’s the thing though, he is so lazy! He hates walking and this parade was definitely going to be a challenge for him. Luckily, he was sitting on the trailer that was attached to their float so he was getting his break in. He was delighted to see us waiting for him and it made my heart melt. 

My ex husband and I walked down to meet them at the end of the parade. They were tired from walking but we still had to walk back to the cars. We walked past the horses and some of the fire trucks. I was on high alert reading every name on the trucks to make sure I was safe and not going to be further triggered. And then it happened. Logan’s Ferry. Three of them. My heart sank and I immediately felt nauseous and started walking faster. I felt the “flight” instinct so strongly. But I’m still with my kids so I can’t just crumble like I want to. I tried to put my mind into “Mom mode” and get their things together so they could go with their dad for a bit for the rest of the afternoon. I hugged and kissed them and sent them on their way. I got into my car and tried not to cry. I wanted to leave and I wanted to be as far away from that place as possible. The parade was wrapping up and a large group of people stood behind my car, taking family photos and enjoying the time together. I was seething. I wanted to drive over the curb in front of me to just leave but I’m not that person. I sat and patiently waited with my reverse lights on. Finally, one of them noticed and I was able to back out and leave. 

Driving home, I asked myself what I wanted, what did I need? I stopped at the grocery store that also sells alcohol. Last year, I drank a lot to feel numb and it seemed like the perfect idea for this afternoon. My scattered brain didn’t take my wallet into the store and I decided that was a sign to not indulge in toxic behavior. I bought food I could make for dinner and some sushi to take home and have for lunch. I could be normal. I could be fine.

I tried to locate my rapist on social media but for some reason, he is no longer listed. Probably for the best. Instead, I decided to check my “friend’s” facebook. She had recently made a post with this monster. It fueled my anger even more to see that she was still choosing to hang out with this man who tormented me. True friendship right there. I started to feel too much. I thought about going back out for alcohol. I would have a few hours before I got my kids so maybe I could numb myself up before then. But I stayed home. I took my prescribed anxiety medication and cried myself to sleep. I woke up groggily to my ex husband asking when I was coming to get the kids. I asked him to bring them over and attempted to pull myself together. That dinner I purchased went uncooked. We opted for McDonalds and I laid back down. 

I hate the depression and feelings that take over especially when they’re around. Here I am now, it’s almost midnight and I’m afraid to sleep. What dreams will I have? How will I be able to push this away for the next few days to do the work I need to do? I feel like nothing will help and like I’ll never be able to move away from this. I know I will, part of me does. But the dark part of me is being fed its favorite lies and it feels like its winning. I want isolation and dark. I want quiet and numb.