For the Love of Little

So last Monday the no contact order was lifted and mom came over to our apartment. Little has been devastated and didn’t understand why mom (me) and grandma couldn’t talk or see each other for a while. Sitting in the same room, doing what we’ve always done after a fist fight and pretending everything was fine gave Little the best sense of comfort she’s had in a very long time. She was thrilled, much better behaved the rest of the afternoon, and went right to sleep without the level of anxiety that’s been so worrisome. She also stopped worrying about the sirens off in the distance which have bothered her ever since she watched mom get arrested. 

So for the remainder of our time in Ohio, on Little’s behalf, we’ll be spending one afternoon weekly with grandma. At least we’ll see how long it lasts anyway before the eventual tension mounts and mom does her mom thing. If all goes well we aren’t planning on being here much past six weeks or so anyway. We finally found a house in Indiana, we’re just waiting on some financing things to come through. 

Yeah, I know. I’ve been rather tight lipped about where exactly our apartment was trying to avoid any additional stress from other people in Ohio. It didn’t really work, and on the practical eve of our return to the Hoosier State I don’t really care if they know I’m here anymore. 

The kids and I were supposed to stay with my parents the entire time we were having our house built. After the legal fiasco with my mom happened, we scrapped the build, and we only had two weeks to find an apartment. We searched high and low in Indianapolis, and even some of the surrounding cities but nothing was available in our time frame. Three bedroom apartments are harder to find than you’d think, especially in decent areas for a decent rent.

So out of any other options we began looking in Ohio. We found one not too far from my parents which made it easy for my dad and sisters to help with the kids, but it’s also been the reason my PTSD has spiraled out of control in recent months. Constantly being on high alert so I don’t run into anyone from my past has literally worn me out. 

I shouldn’t run into anyone since I made sure to move the opposite direction from the last place I knew they were, but being inside of my previous 200 mile buffer zone has created all of the recent anxiety issues I’ve been experiencing. Ohio and the urban environment I’m in is comforting in one sense, because it’s conveient, familiar and my childhood home. However, I’ve discovered with this recent mess that I can no longer live here.

It hasn’t been all bad. I’ve made a lot of great strides toward closure on a lot of the issues I originally ran away from when I first moved to Indiana. There was a good amount of healing done in between the panic attacks. Lol. I just know that when we leave here to start the next chapter of our lives in a town with a population smaller than the number of people living in my apartment complex, I probably won’t be coming back. Or if/when I do it won’t be for any extended period of time.

I don’t really know how I feel about that yet. On the one hand struggling so much with my PTSD makes me feel victimized all over again which makes me angry, frustrated, and fairly combative with anyone I perceive as a threat. Lucky me, out of fight, flight, or freeze I rolled fight 3 out of 3. Lol. It’s how I managed to survive the trauma I’ve experienced, but now it’s kind of a burden always being quick on the draw, often shooting myself in the foot before my rationale catches up and I can assess the situation. 

On the other, I’m just sad. I had done so well with my initial round of therapy, jumping over obstacles, and applying the healthy alternatives to my disordered thinking. I knew the disorder would never go away, but it felt like it had. My symptoms were practically non existent there for a while and I thought I was strong enough to withstand the challenges of facing my past head on. Being literally sidelined by my body short circuiting before my mind could catch up, reminded me just how real, and very present even after all of the hard work I’ve put into my recovery the disorder is. It’s discouraging, and heart breaking all the same. 

I will literally be fighting this until my very last breath. It’s a good thing I also got a whole lot of extra tenacity to go with my fight response. If nothing else, I will survive.