This was my huge stressor for this week, and it was something I couldn't talk about on the public internet because I didn't want to remind Judah that it was today. (Yay benefiting from his forgetfulness and general lack of organization.)
Because, you see, I could have seen him today. It's the one time - prior to the trial - when he's allowed to be in the same room as me. I did not sleep last night. I have been tangled up all week about this, about the possibility of him being there.
I never want to see his face again.
You must realize: When a person is looking at you and actively decides to hit you, something behind their eyes changes. Something shifts.
I had years of goofing off in the kitchen and playful funtimes with him between his upcycles of emotional abuse, but since that moment, all other images of his face are gone. When I picture Judah, that is the face I see. Him in the basement making the decision that he's going to hit me now. That he gets to hit me now, that he thinks he's broken me enough that this won't even be the last time.
I almost threw up waiting in that courtroom today.
Yes, I am brave. Yes, I am fierce and strong. But I am also very afraid of the person who looked at me like that that day.
I am saying this with the hope that it will inoculate me. That's worked with triggery stuff before - noting and accepting and mapping the thing can defuse the thing. I'm saying this because I do believe he will show up at another party he believes I'll be at. (He has not updated his home address with Probation, the victim advocate told me today. He has to be served at the makerspace he's at intermittently. He knows this, and will claim ignorance that the order was extended as long as he can, I assume.) So I'm saying this with the hope that I can circumvent it, that I can stand fast and make the call and not dissolve into a fear-puddle.
So that's my day.