Reliving

14 years ago I found myself embroiled in a custody litigation with my abusive ex who I shared an adopted daughter with. It became an extension of abuse; another way this human found to terrorize me. It robbed me of peace, joy, security...it ruled my life for over a year. I felt victimized by the legal system purported to be in the business of protecting children. About 4 years later, she sued me again. Both times she in essence "lost," but they never felt like wins to me. From my vantage point, it seemed anything that succeeded in frightening me and requiring my time, energy and money was a win for her. 

I now find myself back in a scenario that feels dangerously similar. Despite my attempts at self regulation, grounding, and healing, this is still a traumatic experience for me. I vacillate between moments of peace and confidence to those of complete terror. I'm in weekly therapy, where we attempt to make use of EMDR but also have to simply use time to catch up on the constant changes of the circumstances I find myself in with all three of my children and my two exes with whom I coparent, nor to mention the less than secure relationship with my wife.

My wife is trying to support me in the ways she knows how, but in the most primitive ways I feel that I need, she falls flat. I need reassurance, love, and affection. I need a lot right now, admittedly. It seems that in this moment of intense need, she can't put aside her own unhealed trauma to give me that. I wish she was in therapy, still. She had a therapist that was very helpful who moved, and ever since then, she hasn't found anyone to take her place. 

Despite this, she views me as the one in need of the most professional help, as she judges from her perch which she has sanctimoniously labeled "Healed Human with no Lingering Traumatic Symptomology." That label is inaccurate. She can no longer see herself from the perspective she claims to have sole ownership over. But you can't tell her that, either.

In this season of Camille and Christina, I am the one shoulding all over everyone. I am the one with all the issues. All the mental health needs. All the time consuming and harmful symptoms that make living with and loving me a job. I wonder what it feels like to proclaim to yourself and everyone else that you have no further issues. That you have healed everything in yourself that requires healing and never question why you still have a masochistic inner voice that narrates your every moment or a terrified inner child who is afraid to be still, for fear that she hasn't been productive enough to warrant worthiness. To confidently profess that you do not have to apologize because you don't ever do anything that requires apology. You are simply being yourself. Even if "yourself" means you hurt other people. That's just a byproduct of being in the presence of your greatness.

I am far from perfect, and I wouldn't dare try to claim any different. But I am trying. I am fighting the fights that I am FOR my children because they deserve better. Even if the fight means that it drains life from me as I do it. Even if I say out loud that for me, personally, this is the worst possible time to fight these fights. I'm still fighting them, because my children deserve that.

If these were her children in question, there would be no conversation whatsoever about the collateral fallout that occurred as she fought for their best interests. Because as a mother, you do what you must for the lives you've been entrusted with. But it seems in this life I've created for myself with this other human, there are rules that only exist for her and not anyone else. So while I fight this fight of my life, while triggered, trying, and attempting to heal while balancing everyone else's needs too, I will be labeled selfish and needy and probably "too much." But maybe the truth is not that I am too much, but that she is not enough.