Today I drove the children to the zoo. Which is an hour away. Mostly because I wanted to prove to myself that I could leave town.
I drove through the city where I was so happy with my ex. The ex before the children’s father. It was hard to remember this is where we, that is where he, and etc. At least it was a good opportunity to convince myself that I didn’t want to be with him, by making a list of his issues in my head while I drove through the city center.
The kids did pretty good at the zoo, but I became impatient after a few hours. The crowds bothered me. I couldn’t deal with them indoors.
Also I was sick of seeing fathers with babies. Fathers with young children. I kept wondering what was wrong with their wives, that they let them take the children out without them. I kept looking around for the mothers in concern.
Which is ridiculous. Probably most fathers can be trusted with their children. The psychologist told me so, that there are decent fathers out there. My brother is one, too. It doesn’t seem possible, but it is. Right?
I kept myself from running after a group of women from my old community. It was easy, as they didn’t know me, but it was hard to realize I have the knee jerk reaction still of greeting with affection perfect strangers because of a mutual culture. I know they would assume the worst of me, as I was dressed like a Western school teacher.
I was tired of seeing couples together. Couples who spoke to each other, who clearly had mutual regard, respect for one another. Did he beat her when they got home? Why was she looking around, won’t she get in trouble? She was wearing shorts…
Which is silly. If I dated, ever, I might end up with some sort of normal relationship. If they could do it, couldn’t I?
Right. I think I will stick to my singlehood. It is so much easier. I don’t know how to do relationships anymore.
It was the psychologist, the PTSD specialist, who explained to me that every inappropriate thought is a trigger. Who explained to me that I am triggered nearly all the time in public. That was last year. Not much has changed, I guess.
So I was super triggered. The zoo was a hit, but early on a weekday is a must. No more Mother’s Day public activities.
A few years ago on this day at about this time I was having a beating, one that made me feel like I got hit by a truck for a week. I hated those, they impaired my ability to care for the kids, which always made me depressed. Mother’s Day is not my fave, ever since. Please don’t forget that holidays are the worst for women in abusive relationships, the days where shelters put on extra staff and the hotlines ring overtime. Don’t forget them, the survivors.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the women who survived, and who did not. Happy Mother’s Day for those in the shelters or running for the sake of the kids and/or the sake of sanity. You have my love.