Deal with your shit

Warning: this contains language (more than usual) a harsh topic, and is long form. 

The  title is something that is said in the drag racing world by friends. The point of it is: you deal with what you're given. You don't excuse, complain, or avoid. Deal with your shit.

So, this is dealing with my shit.  This is not a me too post.  I repeat, this is not intended as a me too post.  NOT A ME TOO POST. NOT.  This is kind of a part two of the Post Apocalyptic Hometown post, how it felt to return after All Of That.

I've mentioned from time to time the fact that I was married young.  Really young.  Stupidly young.  Having been raised by wolves, it was a way out.  I loved him, as much as one can when you're in your late teens. But I knew it wouldn't be the end of the world if it didn't work out.  Things had already happened that should have ended the relationship, but because reasons, it didn't.  This, I later learned, is not unusual.

Until it didn't work out and then it was the end of the world. I ended up losing everything.  Friends, job, place to live. One of the loves of my life (not him)  Name it. Gone.

Because of mental illness and just straight-up problems, the marriage ended in threats/acts of violence from him.  It ended in restraining orders and court dates. It ended up with my literal and purposeful disappearance.  Because of his relentless behavior and actions, I had to engage a lawyer.

For my own safety, the lawyer told me to disappear.  This wasn't a cheap, sleazy lawyer just trying to go the easy way; this guy was legit. He had seen it before and knew how it could end. He said something along the lines of "I don't want to have to testify at the trial of your murder."  Yeah.

It pissed him off that it was happening to me and it pissed him off that it was being sponsored - at the time- by his parents, a known family in the community. Dude is a judge now. AND, to substantiate the direness of the situation, it was an 18-month marriage with no assets that required lawyers, court appearances, and lots of paperwork.

The lawyer suggested that I move out of the county.  This wasn't possible because I was dead broke and working at a low paying job. I could have become part of the system to get out safely but my pride got in the way. And I got my stubborn on.  Stupidly, I refused. I gutted it out instead of asking for help.

One stolen car, failed rehab attempt (his, not mine), lots of stalking, and another threat of specific mutual violence and I changed my mind.

How does one disappear in a small town?  I had to file legal paperwork separate from the divorce papers to change my name. He refused  to sign off on it and this part is fuzzy. I just remember he wanted me branded with his last name forever.

I was living with my sister and had to move.  I stopped seeing my family.  I lost my friends - they were either over the drama and/or they couldn't be subjected to his issues. It was just relentless because he wouldn't leave them alone either.  If he knew I'd been to their houses, he would show up. He took every opportunity he could to interfere.

To increase the difficulty level, people were slow to realize what was happening and/or believe it really was that bad.  Because he was so good at presenting the good side publicly.  "Oh, he's harmless. He will settle down. It's not that bad." Imagine how frustrating that was. He ran his mouth everywhere he went, it was relentless and exhausting and on the surface doesn't seem so bad.  Until you realize it happened everywhere I went.

Some of this is on me. I don't want to hear "It's never your fault!" because there were two players in this situation.  I made at least two mistakes: fear based decision making and having permanent solutions to temporary problems.  At the time, I didn't feel like anything else was possible.  This is disrespectful, not to just me but to some of the people around me.

Worst of all during this, I lost someone very special to me. Because I was just barely twenty-one at the time, I did not handle this situation well.  The term ghosted wasn't a thing back then but that's essentially what happened. I felt powerless and I bolted. I should have made a different choice - had some faith - but that is a consequence that I have to deal with.

My sister lied her face off to people to protect me.  I tried to stay at my parents again.  I ended up hiding out at Kevin's way, way, WAY Before either of us were ready for that level of relationship.  To their credit, his family and friends (some of whom knew the husband) helped me stay hidden.

I became a ghost.  I didn't go anywhere alone, except work and there were a few job changes. This was before cell phones and interwebs, thank god. I believe this would be a Very Different Story if it had.  Still, he found me.  I mean, it wasn't hard, it was a small town.

Finally, there was a particularly scary and upsetting telephone call with promises of violence that happened at Kevin's house, before I was even living there. It had followed one from earlier that day that happened at my job.  This caused another court appearance for the "Okay, we're not fucking around anymore" restraining order.

That court appearance ended up being soul crushing and humiliating.  Prior to this, I wasn't required to appear due to the domestic violence status.  Unfortunately this time, there was no one to represent me so I had to appear. (again: small town)  I was told to show up after the proceedings began and I was assigned a deputy while in the courtroom as safeguards.  It was suggested that I could bring, like, my mom or sister with me but no men. (again: 1990's small town) I went by myself because stubborn.

It was something out of Law and Order. Most of what I remember is staring at the wall, when I didn't have to look at the judge.  Mike complained that a restraining order was keeping him from reconciling with me.   The judge asked me if there was a chance of reconciling.  "No, your honor. None."  He nodded and said something along the lines of "By looking at the charging documents, I see why."

Then Mike took the tack of trying to embarrass me.  "Well, she had an affair with My Friend before the marriage ended."  I can't quite recall how the judge's response went because I was humiliated and panicked and couldn't hear anything over that for a few minutes. I was desperate to keep that person's name out of court records, spare him any embarrassment.  The judge shut him down right before he said his name and asked me if I had anything to add.  NOPE.

His last ditch attempt was to say that I was also sleeping with Kevin, who was "a lifelong friend of his" and "She can't keep me from all of my friends."  and "She's living with him right now"  None of which was true. So, Kevin's name ended up in court records because he was mentioned in the restraining order response and court proceedings.  NEAT.

Washington State is a no fault state so none of the above was relevant to anything, other than to manipulate and embarrass.

Finally, it was done. A permanent restraining order with promises of imprisonment if he didn't stop.
One would like to say he stopped.  He kinda did but he just got more sneaky about it. It was still the occasional drive-by, the random hang-up phone calls, showing up in places then disappearing. The kind of stuff that really makes you feel crazy. The stuff you can't prove but know is happening.  He was a pro at gas-lighting.

It finally stopped all the way only because we moved, a few months after the divorce became final. He's wandered off to ruin someone else's life now and there's nothing I can do about that. We no longer have mutual friends so I know nothing about him.  Other than he's not dead, so I lost that bet.

So. The dealing with my shit part. The first of this post was the part about how I got here. Here's where I am going.

Now that I've returned, its a much bigger town so it's easier to stay invisible. Everything has changed, except me. Now it's about how/when I decided to deal with my shit. Slay those zombies, if you will. Vanquish those ghosts. It's been two years since I've returned "home" with the new job.  It was much harder than I thought it would be.  Because, I believe, I didn't deal with my shit. I stayed in the habit of hiding.

There have been no incidents, although I did see Mike in traffic a few months ago. The abject dread that I felt left me exhausted.  Still, slowly, my vigilance has waned.  At this point, he could have already seen me and I don't even know.

I've reached out to friends and that's been good. I realize how much I missed them and how it is to have friends who knew who I used to be. But it is different now.  I stayed hidden to someone because I wasn't ready, until I just was.  At first, I didn't have a good answer to why I reached out when I did. Then I realized it was the guilt because of what happened, the exhaustion of staying hidden. And it's just straight up missing that person. Amends were made and it was difficult but worth it.

There is still a little humility and amends to make. I didn't do a great job of communicating what was happening then. I was embarrassed and mad at myself for everything. I couldn't believe that I was that person.  I scoffed at the lawyer when he said I was a victim of domestic violence. (thus prompting the murder trial quote) I am doing a disservice by not acknowledging it. By not talking about it. It's awkward when someone refers to that time because they don't know or remember what happened. So, here I stand...god, I hate the word survivor. I just watched Game of Thrones so I will say conqueror of all that I thought would never end.

If you know me in real, you probably wouldn't guess that all this nonsense occurred.  It's because it happened, that I am that person now, probably. In the end, I did the best I could at the time, and it wasn't enough for some of the people I loved and that has to be okay. On some level, I did just bail, even though my safety was truly at risk  There are consequences to that, ones that I had to remedy and some that just are never going to change.

A lot of what pushed me forward is that I've just spent a lot time with the kids on both sides of the family.  They are so Live Out Loud kids and they are teaching me how to do that too.

Shout "I love you" across a restaurant, parking lot, or fair? Certainly no shame in that game. Fling yourself with abandon at the people you love, Great! Let's go do stuff, C'mon let's go. They don't care about zombies. They have zero knowledge of that time and don't understand why not come be part of the hometown that they know.  Not to just endure in the one that used to exist for me.

Kevin says just forget about it, Mike probably has.  He's probably right and that's something I would say to someone else. But he doesn't live in my head; he didn't experience that dread. Someone else said "they're just places" and he's right too. They are just places now. They hold no power. All I have to do is reach out, it's all on me.

Make amends. Make friends with those ghosts. Slay those damned zombies.

I just have to deal with my shit.