All is not necessarily quiet on New Years Day. And sometimes everything changes on New Years Day… OK enough referencing U2’s song but can’t help listen to it at least once.
New year’s eve started with me going to get my allergy shots. I’m getting closer to having them once a month. We’re skipping next week, then shot, skip following and then I think we’ll be starting monthly. Between quitting smoking on valentine’s day this last year and the allergy shots my breathing and lungs are much stronger. I’ve been removing allergy meds as we’ve started this process and I feel great.
I went to a local grocery store to peruse the wine and sparkling wine selection. When Joe finished his half day he called and we were trying to find the same wine. Of course his store was much bigger and fancier and I’m utterly jealous of the selection. We did a video conference together and I was amazed that where he was reminded me of a Sam’s Club but for liquor. Only not bulk items just the size of the store. They have beer taps and a whole section of tables with chairs to sit and enjoy a wine tasting. I’m not taking anything from Cellar 70, for the size of this town is big and has a very respectable collection of wines, liquors and beers. But I will be going to Joe’s gem he found.
After picking out wines I left to get back to Dad’s to check on Brodee and relax and put some ice on my arms. It’s a relief for the pain and I take a Benadryl as well. I’m more than acquainted with the drill.
So what does one do miles away on new years? We watched movies, shared wine and we talked about everything. We have talked a lot more since we reconnected and he’s been very supportive and has a way of calming me.
My demons do get in the way at times. And my demons have surfaced….I say demons but they’re haunts, fears and what I endured way too long. I did feel trapped. I was made to feel that way and made to feel like nothing or no good. Fear crept in, bound me and my anxiety returned full force and there was no stopping it. I didn’t know what kind of monster I was with. I didn’t and don’t know what he did to my sweet girl and likely never will and not sure at this point if my heart could handle knowing. Was hard enough thinking he was at fault but not being sure even after finding Dexter dead. Not really knowing what happened. And not knowing for 20 days for sure that he murdered my Dexter. I don’t need to be told about Luna, I feel it. I know in my heart and I have to forgive myself for not seeing it and being so afraid and not letting him fail to carry out his constant threat to kill himself. But when you’re feeling worthless as I was wondering why the fuck it won’t just end, it’s hard. I know he wouldn’t have done it but I fear that I wouldn’t have been so lucky. Pretty sure if I didn’t move in with him he would’ve just killed me. So this wouldn’t be as it is. I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be anything.
But I’m not dead. I’m here and my babies suffered his wrath. He wanted to do that to me, he wanted me to hurt and wanted to break me. I am broken but not completely. What I have that he can’t and has never felt a fucking day in his life is LOVE. He loves no one, not even himself. He has no feelings of remorse or feelings at all. He’s a psychopath. I might be crazy from anxiety and the bullshit he put me through but I am also determined and much fucking stronger than he EVER gave me credit for. He will never control me ever again. He will never have me ever again. Not in any lifetime. NEVER again.
As fucked up as it all may seem I’m getting stronger every day. I will continue to try to get him to have maximum penalty. I will continue writing and fighting for justice for my babies. I will continue to try to work to change the way the laws are to something more severe. Animals dogs, cats, birds, reptiles…whatever they may be… isn’t just ownership. They’re not a coffee cup, they can’t be replaced. For many they are therapeutic and family. It’s not fucked up. I’m not alone in thinking these fur babies were my babies. No I didn’t give birth but I had them as babies and raised them and played and cried and had them until their unfortunate and untimely deaths.
I’m not just grieving, I’m trying to get past being abused, being controlled, being put down and to feel like nothing. It isn’t easy. Sometimes all I need is someone to hold me, hold my hand, listen and hear me or read my endless rants. I need those friends and family (and you know who you are) to remind me of who I was our help me find that new version. Help me laugh. Help me cry. Help me be me and just love me.