Now that all the court stuff is out of the way, I can finally publish this…
Last May, I broke my hand. I sort of vaguely mentioned it here but couldn’t really get too much into it as we were working through the court system. So here’s the account of the events and most of the drama I silently endured during the later half of 2016.
My hand was broken in an epic ending to a major piece of continuing drama in my life. PTSD blind fight reflex is not with out its drawbacks, but aside from an inconvienance it worked out for the best.
It all started when I attempted to stay with my parents while we were having the house built. Yes, I know I’d said we had an apartment but that was to avoid other drama associated with my childhood home. The plan had always been to stay with my parents. I kind of knew it wasn’t going to be easy for sure with mom’s NPD, but I survived 18 years of her shenanigans so a few months seemed doable. At least in theory it would have been doable, but mom was in rare form. It usually takes a few weeks before shit hits the fan, but this last time? Not even 24hrs after Hubs went back to Indiana.
She’d been picking at me since the moment we arrived with petty passive aggressive verbal barbs, and boy did she pull out all the stops! She kept calling Hubs by my ex’s name while he was here (which she excused by saying he looks so much like his dad who shares the name), then she started picking at my dog and threatening to send it to the pound which scared Little to tears, then she started in on my parenting, all which I took in stride. It did trigger some obvious anxiety but nothing I couldn’t handle with an hour or so out of the house.
Which made her blood boil and lack of supply freak her out to the max. Which is why after she got home from work on Monday, three days after we arrived, as the kids were doing their usual afternoon, tired fussy pre bedtime play time, all hell broke loose.
The boys were in their pack and play and B1 had rolled over and wiggled his way on top of B2’s arm so they were both crying kind of stuck where they were. It wasn’t mega urgent emergency crying, just fussing, so I decided to finish downloading some new episodes of shows onto Little’s iPad before I went to check on them. It was charging so I was tethered to the bedroom.
Mom comes home wondering why I hadn’t immediately rushed to the Boys’ aid in a mood and started in on my parenting again. I pretty much ignored it with a comment on how I had three children and needed to take care of Little at the moment, the boys were fine until I could finish what I was doing. I guess she was in and out from the car bringing in groceries. Somehow our dog got upstairs from the basement and Little not understanding why she shouldn’t help the dog out, opens the door letting our dog out side.
Mom says: “oh, well she’s gone.” Trying to hurt Little’s feelings for being three and making an innocent although poor choice. I wasn’t about to have that, so I charged out the door after the dog thinking mom would stay at home stewing over the whole thing and watch the kids. But no…. No that didn’t happen because that would have been logical, rational and sane. Instead my mom comes traipsing down the street leaving the kids unattended yelling at me for not wearing shoes. I turned around to ask who was watching the kids to be met with my mother’s usual response of casual indifference and insults about my parenting. That was annoying, but the real kicker was my Little standing unattended two houses away in the middle of the street.
Obviously, at that point to hell with the dog, I have to tend to my kids. I rushed back down the street to get Little safely inside. I tended to the boys who at that point needed to be changed and fed for dinner, and then when they were taken care of after my mom returned sans dog, I asked why, we started screaming at each other, mom hit me acrossed the face for being “disrespectful” and then… It all changed. The strike to the face is nothing new, we always end up screaming at each other and she’s always retaliated with violence. This time, instead of taking it like I usually did reflexes took over and I immediately swung back connecting with her head somewhere. Not the face, but the head. She tried to return the blow, but I blocked it so she grabbed a coffee mug off the counter and tried to break it over my head, but I blocked that with another blow and then my Little started screaming.
I had no idea she had wandered into the room, but she saw mom throw the cup at me and my return blow. So… We’ve got lots of therapy to look forward to in the next few months. AWESOME. So, I hear her scream and immediately run over to her trying to comfort her, which is when mom decides to call the police and try to have me arrested. Try to, being the key phrase there. Once they got there and took our statements, mom ended up getting arrested and having charges filed by the state.
I didn’t even notice my hand was injured until after the fact as I was trying to write my statement. It hurt but it wasn’t bruised or swollen at all. I called a friend who raced over to take my kids if I got arrested, so since the kids were okay and I wasn’t going to jail, she ended up taking me to the ER instead. We sat there forever waiting to be seen, and eventually the results came back: broken. What they appropriately call a boxers fracture of my right fifth metacarpal. The bits that connect my pinkie to my wrist. Snapped right through, but thankfully didn’t displace too much.
So… Now, as I’m pecking this out with my left hand, we’re waiting to go through the court system and see how that pans out. It’s weird having all of these victims resources available to me all of the sudden after dealing with my mom my entire life. People are all like omg you’re a victim of a crime! Do you need help!!? And I’m trying to be polite but thinking to myself: nice try but you’re about 30 years too late, thanks. I’m fine, I’ll be fine. I’ve made it through everything else, a broken hand is the least of the damage from this. Lol.
Really the only thing that sucks is being stuck in Ohio as I’m finishing my medical stuff and try to figure out what to do with the build and my poor Little who doesn’t understand where Grandma went and why she hurt me, and I fought back. 2016 took a nose dive real quick there. Like overnight.