I haven't written a blog in forever.  Very few have ever read my blog anyway -- which I can see from the stats.  In major part, I feel ashamed of how my divorce ended up, probably because I had no choice than to just give up and give him everything.  I will need to blog about all that some day, I'm sure.  I felt like a failure -- but I had to make it stop.  I didn't believe it would stop -- and it didn't.  But then, it did actually stop.

It's taken me a while to reconcile that in my heart.  At the end, I didn't feel like anything I could say to someone else going through the hell of divorce after domestic violence was really worthwhile.  I fought so hard to keep my confidential address secret -- and I won that battle.  But I lost everything else -- which I was willing to lose anyway -- but that doesn't result in a person feeling like a "hero" for a cause.   How can I successfully communicate to another person that you really have to give up on everything in order to have a life free from an abuser?  How will that make another victim feel?  Does it empower anyone?  I would have said no a while ago.

My ultimate goal was to have a life free from him.  And, I now have that.  Well, as "free from him" as one can ever be.  I'll always wonder what might make the "sleeping ogre" awaken.  I'll always look over my shoulder.

In March 2015, it will be a year since his attorney (assrat lawyer) has harassed me.  After he stopped, I waited and waited ... for the other shoe to drop.  My ex had cycles of 3-5 months during the early years of our marriage.  So, I couldn't even really breathe until 3 months had passed.  That time passed.  I started living a little -- for the first time in sooooo long.  But I knew there was a possibility of it starting up again until the 5 month mark.  It didn't.  I still couldn't be sure.  Maybe I missed a date or something.  Then, came 6 months and 7 and 8.  Nothing further.  3.5 years since he tried to kill me.  3.5 years since I'd had to look at his evil eyes in court.  3.5 years since he'd had an opportunity to shut off water in my house.  And 7-8 months since he'd had the opportunity to devastate me with a motion in court -- that I needed to respond to, write something that challenged my heart to deal with things.

I was a different person.  But I was cautious.  My strength, my new life, was built on sand.  Sand crumbles easily.  I had to be cautious of that sand crumbling.  What if he started up something again?  After all, he'd continued his attempts to ruin my life for 3 years after he was arrested.  I couldn't think of anything that would make him start up again.  He had everything.  The divorce was LONG over.  But .. there's always that lingering fear.  What would stop him?  Nothing.  I'd already learned that.  I'd lived with that terror since 2001.

Life became real and wonderful for me.  I made friends.  I had fun.  I lived carefree -- and still do.  And of course, the real love of my life, my fiance, has been there all along, and still is.  How he dealt with some of the darkest days of my existence on this planet through that divorce and loved me anyway -- I will never know.  He never gave up on me -- even when I gave up on myself.  And I did.  I truly truly gave up on me.  Perhaps that was the turning point?  For me, there was nowhere further down to go.  I wanted to die.  I'd wanted to die many times since 2001.  But, at that point, in late 2013, I still wanted to die, but I wanted help so that I didn't feel that way anymore.  And I wanted to be the woman my fiance believes -- and has always believed -- I could be -- not for him, but for myself.  I accomplished that for the most part.  So much of my confidence in me came back -- but it was a bit shaky here and there -- and still is. It has been built back slowly, cautiously, but each bit of it has been built in rock this time.  So, when it's built, it's built.  If that makes sense.

But that shadow of the ogre, my ex -- that shadow -- it will always hang over me.  Or will it?  Will there come a day that I will know I'm 100% free of him?  Perhaps not until someone tells me he's dead -- if someone actually even tells me that ... or maybe, I'll just sense it.   Don't get me wrong.  I don't wish him dead.  My wish is that he realizes his problems and gets help.  But at his age, 61 this year, how realistic is that?

I didn't like hearing it, but I've heard from someone from my past -- our past -- that nothing has changed with him.  I insulate myself from people I knew back then.  You really can't trust ANYONE you knew while with an abuser -- NO ONE.  Sad as that is to realize.  I thought my PTSD was gone and I was beyond it.  Talking to just one person who knew me (us) then, hearing about the ogre since then, ouch, it all came back up.  I struggled to overcome that for a while.  And it took a while to get through it all ... again.  It had to be processed, I guess.  To sink the roots of my new self, my new life, deeply, I had to sort of live through it all again -- in my mind.  This time, I saw it all differently.  I felt it all differently.  I am truly a new person.