Lost

I haven’t been much of a writer lately.  I have no more words to use to share my journey with the world.  Last year proved to be a most difficult year full of loss and sadness.  I continue to try to focus on the positive that comes out of the negative, but it’s becoming impossible to do so as anything left positive fades away into the background.  I’m sad every day.  I’m sick with worry.  I wander aimlessly through life; unable to plan any type of future.  I just don’t know what to do with life anymore.

I continue to be under attack by my ex-husband, the Narcissistic Sociopath.  His use of the courts to continue to bring me down is never-ending.  I attempted to obtain an injunction to prevent any further court action being filed against me by him, but the judge wouldn’t grant it at that time.  He did however set it aside and stated he could put it into effect at a later date if he felt it necessary and that was after a warning that the case was pretty close to such a thing.  I was hopeful that would be a deterrent for him.

Unfortunately, all hope was lost when he filed a complaint against me and had me arrested.  The charge?  Threatening and intimidating/domestic violence.  I sent a message to his father after receiving multiple threats from him and asked his father for help.  I asked him to get his son to stop threatening me.  His father perceived my plea for help as a threat of violence and passed it on to my ex who in turn used it as the basis for the arrest.  With all the threats I have received, some of them carried out, they would never arrest him but one plea for help from me and not even directly to him got me arrested.  I don’t understand the system.  It’s seriouisly broken.  My trial begins March 1.

He has also more recently filed for sole custody, using the arrest as part of his reasoning.  He is also using my refusal to engage in any conversation with him as a reason.  He keeps forgetting that the domestic violence charge came with a restraining order preventing me from having any contact with him what-so-ever.  If I respond to him, he can and will have me arrested for violating the restraining order.  I can’t win either way.  The judge granted him joint custody at the last hearing we had.  The ruling violates Arizona Statutes but that doesn’t appear to bother anyone.  Who in their right mind grants custody to a child molester?  Something is very wrong in the courts around here.

I will be admonished by the judge for publishing this information but I feel it is worth it to get more of the story out in case another is facing what I’m facing.  A short recap of 1015 follows.

My daughter graduated, left the area and cut off all contact with myself and her siblings.  I miss her every single day and wish she would call to say hello.

My eldest son wanted to show his father and stepfather he was a better drug dealer than them (my best guess) and is now preparing to spend the next five years in a prison cell.

I’ve had to move from the home I loved.  I bout a place in the country but it’s too quiet without the kids around.  I don’t know what to do with myself most days.  Some days I question why I continue to even breathe.

My boyfriend, the one who kept me grounded and solid walked away from it all.  Too much drama I guess.  We still talk but it’s nothing like before.  We aren’t a couple anymore and I miss him dearly.  My heart shattered beyond repair.

My best friend in the whole wide world was diagnosed with cancer.  She’s currently in chemotherapy.  The cancer is advanced and she had been misdiagnosed several years prior.  I fear the worst will happen and I will lose her.

Each day is lonelier than the last and I don’t know how much longer I can last with things the way they are.  Most days I don’t want to breathe anymore.  I can’t find purpose in my existence and that is killing me.

I am lost.

Mel

The Gap in Victims’ Rights and Protections

The gap fails to protect the victim.

When is the Victim of a Crime officially a Victim and afforded the Rights and Protections that Victims deserve?  Upon the reporting of the crime?  That makes sense, but is incorrect.  The Victim of a Crime has no protections as a Victim under the law until an arrest is made or charges are filed or an indictment has been handed down.  Until the decision to charge the perpetrator of a crime has been made, the Victim is not yet a Victim.  I shall refer to them as “Unvictims.”

The gap allows victims to continue being victimized.

Lacking the rights and protections afforded to Victims of Crimes, the Perpetrator can find ways around any protective order to Harass, Threaten, Intimidate and even Terrorize the Unvictim, causing the Unvictim’s life to become a living nightmare, the kind you believe only exist in horror flicks and Dramatic Lifetime Movies, you know the ones, where somebody has to die in the end.

The gap allows violent perpetrators to remain free.

The Perpetrator is able to bully the Unvictim until the Unvictim can no longer handle living in fear and halts the Investigation in exchange for peace with the Perpetrator thus allowing the Perpetrator to remain free and ensuring Justice is never served.

This is not a horror flick nor is it a Lifetime Movie, although it does have all the makings for one.  This is reality.  This is the retelling of real life events my children and I have suffered through, survived, and overcome.  These events continue to occur today and the will continue to occur until the Perpetrator of these horrendous acts and terrorization of my family gets everything he wants and not one minute before.  The law will not stop him.  The law looks the other way.  By law, we are not Victims nor will we ever be considering the main investigations have been halted by one of the Unvictims in exchange for the end of the living nightmare and the terrorization of her soul.

That is not all the Perpetrator demands.  The Perpetrator demands silence from myself and the other Unvictims.  The Perpetrator demands sole custody of the only child he still has rights to.  The Perpetrator demands the mother (that’s me) walks away from the child and forgets he ever existed.  The Perpetrator demands the mother pay him Child Support to live off of.  Until these demands are met, the Perpetrator will continue on his self-proclaimed mission of seeing to it that the mother is completely destroyed, imprisoned or dead.

Silence? Daddy always said I had a problem with authority and running my mouth.  He said running my mouth would cause me trouble but never did he say I should keep my mouth shut and my mind to myself.  Over the next few weeks, I shall tell the tale of how the Cochise County Sheriff’s Investigations’ Unit shelved an investigation of long-term, sexual abuse and molestation of a child beginning at the age of 9 and continuing non-stop until the age of 15, ignored pleas for help to stop the living nightmare, allowed the perpetrator of the child sexual abuse and molestation to terrorize the Unvictims of his crimes and to remain free to continue molesting children and how it was one of the Unvictims who eventually landed behind bars in an attempt to defend herself.

They never notice a thing until the victim fights back.

What does the “law” expect the
“Unvictim” to do when the law
fails to protect the “Unvictim”?

Stranger Danger vs. Friendly Fire

Who is more dangerous, the creepy stranger standing on the street corner or the relative/friend-of-the-family you’ve known and trusted your entire life?

I remember learning about “Stranger Danger” as a child.  We were taught not to take candy from a stranger because they might through us into a van and drive off with us and we’d never be seen again.  Several homes in the neighborhood were marked as safe houses – places the children could run to in case of emergency and help was needed or the children needed a safe place to hide.  There was one we would stop in on the way to school every morning and watch a little cartoons while there.  That’s the only thing I can remember about it, as I was only about five years old or so.  I was either in Kindergarten or First Grade.  I’ll catch myself here before I digress.

We were never warned about the people residing in our own homes, family members, friends of the family, yet they ARE more dangerous than strangers.  Worse than that – they can get away with harming the children for years and once outed [IF (BIG IF) outed is more like it], still get away with it.  After all, who wants to believe that somebody you’ve known your entire life, who is a trusted and respected member of the family and society, is not only capable of but has carried out the worst atrocities against children one couldn’t even imagine thinking about carrying out?  Who wants to believe that their spouse, a person they consider their soulmate, has been sneaking into their daughter’s bed while you slept to molest their precious little girl?  I couldn’t believe it when it happened to me.  That is the normal reaction.

The first thought that runs through your head is that the child must’ve gotten into trouble and is trying to find a way out of trouble.  Our first thought is the rarest of possibilities.  Chances are, 99% of the time, the child is telling the truth yet somehow, we believe the child, that we raised to be honest and we believe we are doing a proper job in raising that child, is within that 1% of rare false reporters.  We automatically believe our child is lying because we don’t think there is any possible way Uncle Daddy is the type of person to rape our children.  There are not very many arrests in that area so why would we think it was possible?

Reality is that more than 90% of long-term child-sexual-abusers will never even be reported to authorities and around 95% of long-term-child-sexual-abusers will never be punished for their crimes.  Most of the long-term-child-sexual-abusers who are reported, will never be charged with the crime.  They get to roam freely and find their next target while you drown in the damages they’ve left behind.  Children are afraid to tell for a variety of reasons, the biggest and most common being that nobody will believe them.  Having experienced this in real life, within my own family, I can honestly say, those children are right.

Their abuser tells them over and over that nobody will believe them and they’d get in trouble.  Their abuser is telling them the truth.  So how do we change that?  How do we reprogram our brain to believe the child when the child tells?  That is the question and I don’t have the answer – or perhaps – education.  Just as we launched the Stranger Danger program, we need a program to teach people and children the reality of child sexual abuse; that reality being somebody in your home or who visits your home on a regular basis is more likely to sexually abuse your child than a stranger is.

When a child tells, you listen.  99% of the time, it is true and isn’t it better to err on the side of safety than the side of danger?

Dwelling in the light where the monsters cannot travel,

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**Please note, the numbers I used are from memory and may be off by up to 5%.**

A Personal Note

Last year was such a whirlwind for me, that I never really paused to breathe.  Things just kept hitting me one after another.  Finally, I have time to breathe and reflect on all that I’ve learned, witnessed, and experienced.

Everything happens for a reason.  That’s so cliche.  I do believe it is true.  I have learned more about myself as a person and those around me in this past year and a half than I had in my entire life.  The most important thing I’ve learned is who I am.  Think about it.  Do you know yourself as a person?  I don’t mean as you; I mean as an individual?  Imagine floating outside of your body and watching yourself throughout the day, what you do, where you spend your time, who you talk to, how you talk to them, what you wear, how you react to different situations, etc etc etc.  Look at yourself as if you were somebody else and then ask yourself what kind of person you are.  Would you like that person if you spent time with him?  What would you change if you could?

I know me and I never knew me before.  I can feel again.  I can love again.  I am human and I make many mistakes.  So are and do you.  Everyone does.  You know what?  That’s OK.  It’s OK to mess up.  You don’t have to be perfect.  You are perfectly imperfect being who you are.  I’ve watched others act a certain way just so their friends would continue to like them.  Those are not friends.  Those are robots.  They are afraid to live for themselves and simply follow the crowd.

My Brian is still my Brian.  My head was so twisted up that I couldn’t grasp the normalcy in his words.  This is part of the “this relationship is so different than any other relationship I’ve been in, I don’t know how to act” plot.  It’s all still new to me.  I’m still learning.  I’m so quick to go into self-defense mode because that’s what I’m used to that I forget to pause and mess things up for myself.  I can admit that.  I refuse to allow the damages done to continue to affect me and my future.  It takes hard work.  I have to keep remembering that this is not the same path.  The results won’t be the same.  Shut up and have patience, Mel.

I would’ve shut my phone down too.  I get it.  I’m just not used to it.  So I will work on things and I will make it better.  Everything is getting better in its own way.  I’m excited to see the glimpses of the future as it begins to form.  Mo more silence.  They never could shut me up.  I am still standing and I am standing so much stronger than I ever have before.  I fear nothing yet many fear me.  I don’t think they should; yet I suppose if I were doing things with bad intentions that I would fear those who always tried to do what’s right regardless of how it makes the crowd look at me.  I am not a robot and I am proud to stand alone when it is called for.

Think outside the box.  Learn who you are.  Make your own decisions.  Face your fears.  That is what I call living.  It feels good to be alive.

Love God’s Grace,

Mel

Silence Can Kill

This is a bit different.  I never saw this coming.  Finally, I can feel again.  I have emotions.  I fell so deeply in love with him.  He was different than the others.  He made me a priority.  He did things to make me happy.  He made me feel special.  I was so afraid to open up to him because I was so afraid he would leave me.

I jumped.  I finally felt comfortable enough to take that chance and let my guard down.  The walls fell crashing to the floor and I completely exposed every single little piece of me.  My emotions flowed like raging rivers and I gave him all of me, my heart, my soul, and every bit of my love, some of which I never even knew I had.

Something happened.  I don’t know what.  He walked out without saying a word.  He didn’t call, text, write, nothing.  Not one word came from him.  For nearly a week, I tried everything to get a moment of his time to ask if we were still together, if he still loved me, what was happening.

Silence.

Silence during the daytime is hard but it’s manageable.  Silence during the nighttime?  That is a killer.  Loneliness can drive you insane.  By the end of the first week, I only had one question.  Did he love me.  I asked how many times one should ask that question while it went unanswered before one should realize that the silence is enough to answer you and let you know that you need to move on because there’s no love there.  Finally, a response.  Ask in person.  That’s a difficult task when he can’t be located.  Visit at work, he’s busy working.  Understood.  Call me when you have time for me.  OK.  2:00AM and still nothing.  It’s time I get an answer.  I’m going crazy not knowing and the tears have been flowing for a week straight.  I need this pain to stop.  Hop in the car and go visit.  All is asleep so I knock on the window.  Turned out that was a really stupid move.  I angered him and he yelled at me to get out of there.

Silence.

Still not getting anything, professing my love, begging and pleading for company, pathetic.  A couple more answers.  That night, I acted all crazy and a few days prior I had as well.  I texted a dozen times in a row.  Some anger, some despair, a mixture of I hate yous and I love yous.  I’m hurt.  I’m trying to get your attention but you can’t see me.I’m crying, I’m hurting, I need you, I love you, Please make it stop. Why are you doing this to me?  Why are you hurting me?  Finally it comes. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Silence.

Another day passes and finally a face to face conversation.  “I don’t want to be with you right now.”  What’s our status?  We are on break, like separated but not broke up.  We can hang out like friends but not as a couple.  We don’t sleep together.  We don’t have sex.  But we aren’t broken up.  We are on a break.  How long should the break last?

Silence.

Give him some time.  I don’t know how much as he didn’t say.  All he said was give it time.  My crazy antics weren’t appreciated and he needed time.  It’s been two weeks since he walked out on me and the silence in the night is killing me.  I have no answers.  I am just hanging out until he decides the break is over.  Once the break is over, we will either be together as a couple or completely separate as two single individuals.  How long should I wait?  I’m not interested in going out and seeing anyone.  I just want to know how long I should wait to find out if he is mine or not.  There’s got to come a point in time in which I finally realize I’m waiting for nothing and he’s already decided.  I don’t know when that time is but I do know that I am terribly lonely and the silence from him is killing me.

Never again.  Never again will I allow the walls to fall.  How did I get blindsided yet again?  What’s wrong with me?  Why do I feel so unloved?  I do not know what to do.  I know I love him.  I know I only want to be with him.  I know I miss him terribly.  I don’t know why he won’t talk to me.  So I just wait until my stubbornness subsides and I realize I’m waiting for him to do something he is never going to do and it’s time to accept it and move on.

I’ve never experienced a silent treatment before.  I don’t even know what this means.  Is this his way of breaking up with me or is he punishing me?  It hurts.  Here I am again, tears falling down my face and having no understanding of what just happened.  Maybe I really have lost my mind.  Time will tell.

Forever in His Grace,

Mel

Tornado John: The Demolition of a Family Unit

Perhaps it is time for me to rewrite my story.  When I began writing, I began before placing both feet on the road to recovery.  I shared every thought, every feeling, everything that was happening to me at the moment I was writing and the days and weeks which led up to it.  My writing digressed into other topics and faded in and out through different time frames.

I have placed both feet on Recovery Lane and started the long journey through discovering who I am and who those around me are and begun to put things into perspective.  I am learning to put the past in the past and to let go of those things which I cannot change.  It is a long process in which I am unsure where it ends, if there is an end at all.  I hope and pray that at the end of this journey, I will land where my happiness lies – true, unblemished happiness.  I have to believe that regardless of my doubts.

This is the beginning of putting my life back in order.  To rewrite my story now that my head has cleared and the spinning out of control has ceased.  I hope to be able to get through the construction of a family, the remodeling, the fresh new smell, the first tornado warning, the tornado, and finally, picking up the debris and putting together as many pieces as could be saved along with what was lost along the way.

I enjoy writing metaphorically.  I believe it adds a bit of entertainment value which makes the story a little less depressing.  The past is the past.  There is no going back.  Nothing will ever be as it once was.  I accept that.  Every piece will not be found.  Not all damages will be repaired.  Not all repairs are my responsibility to make.  I will fight my battles and leave the battles of others for them to fight. 

This is the reality, ugly truths included, and I accept it for what it is.  Who knows.  Maybe someday I will turn it all into a book.  If I call it fiction, more people will read it.  It’s easier to read with the belief that it’s not real than to face it as a reality of life.

Yours Truly,

Mel,

Saved by God’s Grace