Out of the closet, and into the fire...
I started coming out to my Mother about being TS, early last year, and she seemed... "ok" with it. I could tell she wasn't really comfortable, so I wasn't going to shove it in her face... we just kept Talking about it, on and off, for most of that year... but I didn't do much around her but start wearing nail polish...
When it seemed like things were going well, I started explaining it to my brother, who was also living with us, and he seemed ok with it at first too...
After an argument with my brother, regarding whose responsibility it was to discipline my daughter, and who was ~allowed~ to do so, because I was tired of him yelling at her for being too loud when she plays, it got bad enough, and scary enough, that I verbally, and directly, ordered him to leave the house... and he did.
Worried that he'd come back, even angrier than he was when he left, I was going to take my daughter back to her mother ~right then~, but she refused, because she doesn't like living there... so, trying to get her to see it wasn't safe, I told her there was no way she was staying there, when my brother could come back, and be out of control of himself... when he has guns in his closet. She told me to get rid of them... ~sighs~ So I did, I took them to the neighbors house, and asked them to hide them for a bit, till my brother calmed down (a rifle and a shotgun). And they did. And the night seemed to settle down... and my brother didn't come back that night.
I should have left. I should have moved out sooner. I guess I got too used to living with that kind of stuff with my ex, the same way as my step dad, when I was little... that I didn't notice my brother was like that too, even being in the middle of it for almost 2 years... coulda, woulda, shoulda...
The next day, bringing my daughter back to her mothers, I talked with her about me moving out, and that I didn't feel safe bringing her to that house anymore, and she agreed... So I was going to go home, after wards, and see what I could sort out, and I'd let her know if we needed to relax the visitation schedule for a bit.
That was Dec 18th. Saturday... a week before Christmas.
When I got home, my brothers car was still gone, but when I got in the house, my Mother was gone too... and that confused me for about 10 minutes, before it dawned on me, when 2 sheriffs came to the door, hands on their holsters, and saying they just wanted to "talk to me, for a few minutes..."
You know... my whole life since I became "self aware", which I say was about 17, every single freakin time someone has hurt me since then, I turn the other cheek, and then I walk away. Not once, have I ~ever~ been known as a violent person, I have no criminal record (except for the stop sign I California Stopped last year =P) and given the kind of abuse I've survived, starting from my earliest memories, when my dad used to come into my room at night, all the way through Marrying a Fem version of him, and divorcing her 2 years ago... Given all of that, I kinda think I ~should~ be crazy... but I'm not. And I don't understand why people thing I am.
Oh granted, I have Major PTSD, and I'm on disability because of it... it's actually DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder, although I'm well enough now that I don't actually disassociate anymore). And while I sometimes Act kinda crazy, in a haha, fun, kinda way... that's been me as long as I can remember Anyways... My "personalities" have been narrowed down to 3, co-conscious, stable, and Mature people, with 2 little's who still hold onto a lot of abuse memories I haven't worked through yet...
but saying that, I can kinda see why some folks would judge me as a Crazy Person, for being 3 people at the same time... My daughter, however, pointed out something that I found to be a Very Beautiful Thought... Especially because she's only 11. (yes, she knows about my issues, as I've explained them to her in ways she understands, like imaginary friends who become a real part of you, but get stuck being separate, when they get hurt too much... I don't lie to, or keep secrets from, my daughter)
We're Catholic (odd, you may think, given the reality of me seeming against their rules ;-) but she said, when I was explaining this same thing to her, so she could understand how ~stable~ ~I~ was now (we were) after all the work we've been doing in Therapy for the past 2 years... she said... Oh, well, that's kinda like God, huh? Father Son and Holy Spirit.
That just floored me... Made in God's image. ~beams~
But it's things like that, that get me through this... ~shit~ that keeps happening.
So, the sheriffs calmed down quickly, when I put my hands up, backed away, and invited them in to chat, and I explained my side... but because I have a history of "mental illness" they wanted me to come down to the hospital for observation...
So yeah... in a very real sense, I just got locked in a mental hospital, for being "gay" (used in the umbrella sense of LGBT). I see it that way, because as I later found out, when my mother and brother took out protection orders against me, and reading my Brothers Reasons for it... that he was looking for every last, little, tiny, excuse to label me as being Psychotic... because I ~think~ I'm a "girl"...
He even listed my leaving a gas tank on the front steps as proof of how crazy I was, as if to say I was going to burn the house down... The gas tank was there, because my daughter wanted to go to the corner store, and I didn't have enough gas in my truck to get there and back, and I only had a few bucks so she could get an ice cream, or whatever, so I used the tank I had filled, and kept out by the shed, for the electric generator (we lived in the middle of a forest)... and that's just one example... and it gets worse.
My ex, smelling blood in the water, took out a PFA (protection from abuse) too, only in ~hers~ she's states that my daughter "told her that her father pointed a gun at her mother"... which isn't something in Either of the first 2 PFA's, and something that never happened...
but wait! there's more...
The 2 psychiatrists at the hospital kept telling me I was delusional, and that my mother and brother were really worried about me, and that I needed help... because I have such a "history" of being "mentally ill"... without recognizing my mother has been in more mental hospitals than I have, and that my brother was ejected from the Marine Corp after a Psych eval... but no matter how many times I stuck to my story, because I ~know~ it to be true, they, being the all powerful Wizards of Oz, decided I needed to be blue papered, because I showed no "insight into the situation, and was unable to take responsibility for my actions". So I was held as prisoner until the court date for the PFA's came up, 3 weeks later.
Because I'm crazy. And I'm dangerous. And I'm scary. Kinda like Ghandi...
The PFA's got thrown out, as I knew they would, and the shrinks finally had to let me go, unable to find any reason to control and abuse me further... They were actually going to ~force~ me to take anti-psychotics, and if I refused them by pills, were going to have me shot up with Haldol... That's what they put in to the courts for, along with the blue paper to keep me there...
But it gets better.
The attorney that I had to help me get on disability, is Livid, after hearing what happened, and knowing I sunk about $10k of my back pay into fixing my mothers 20 year old trailer, my jobless brothers truck, and buying my family expensive Christmas presents... that now I'm homeless, living in a motel, with about $500 left.
Whatever doesn't kill me, makes me stronger.
The attorney I have had for my child custody issues wants to tear my ex apart... and he's one of the best attorneys in the state.
Whatever doesn't kill me, makes me stronger.
The attorney I had assigned to me to deal with the blue paper, after hearing my story, told me to call him if I had any more of that kind of trouble. He works in an office with 2 other attorneys who are related to a high ranking, public, and "almost famous" around here, political family.
Whatever doesn't kill me, makes me stronger.
And ~tonight~, for the first time ever, Victoria is gonna go, as herself, in public, for the first time in my life... to the local LGBT friendly bar, and have a drink (yes, just one ~lol~)... I hope they have Guinness on tap... but it'll probably be ~blech~ cold...
oh well, Whatever doesn't kill me, makes me stronger ~grinz~
And so I go on,
Victoria, you are one gutsy human being! That is an incredible story. I only hope life gets better for you. Thank you for sharing. My wife suffers periodically from DFS (disassociative fugue state) from abuse from her first husband, so I can identify with the loss of identity. You are in my prayers! I hope the support promised by these legal types is provided and you can battle your way out of this horrific situation. God be with you.
I wish I could be there in person to give you a big hug. You're being terribly brave and level-headed about this whole ugly situation. I'll be praying your troubles will dissapate soon so you can get back to living life and being with your daughter in happier times. Thank you for sharing, I hope you'll keep us posted as things come.
but I'm working on that... I'll cry later, when I get a place to live, and fix things for her, as best I can...
Keep Looking Up
Victoria, I'm sorry what happened to you. I pray :pray: that you can find shelter for yourself. You handled yourself very well in a very tense situation. Somewhere in the future that will come back to you as a blessing. Let us know how things are with you.
I also want to express how much I ~love~ my family, even if what they did was very hurtful and hateful to me... and that I was still angry at the time of the first writing...
but I can understand where they're coming from... even if it's not right... I know them, and where they've been... and I don't want people to think ill of them from this small sample, as if this was all that they are...
To ~be~ them, to be cut off, closed off, they ways they are, and have been, and I pray they are coming out of it, is a Hell... That is what I take the Meaning of Hell to be, not an afterlife, but just how people cut themselves off from love, and suffer in hate and fear, instead...
No Ill Will
Ill will is not intended. I just pray that they accept and love you for being you. There's children involved and this needs to be taken into consideration.
Lord, Forgive them, for they know not what they do... is what comes to my mind, when people do things that hurt me... although it often takes me a bit to get there =/
No apology is needed, Victoria. I understand what you are saying.
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