Tripping over life, as one does

This is one of the times I’m grateful for a small audience, as I can barely do more than a social media post or two these days, and rarely in promotion of my art or writing. Blindness in one eye plus CPTSD, depression, anxiety, autism, IBS, IC, endometriosis, and PCOS makes for a hell of a mix.

A few weeks ago, a news story triggered a series of flashbacks that culminated in me turning into a sobbing mess when I was supposed to be helping my husband clean and maintain our house. It actually set me back for two days, it was so bad. I talked to my psychiatrist about changing my meds because they seem to have stopped working when the flashback kicked in, but she told me that when a flashback is that strong, it’s not something that medication can ameliorate or suppress.

What upsets me even more is that there seems to be something in my subconscious that is determined to force me to be miserable, especially now that my husband has a job he loves and was able to use part of his bonus to buy something that plays well into his hobbies. He got a motorcycle that was being sold for parts, and he fixed it up, and now we’re trying to get it titled and licensed, which is proving to be both time-consuming and frustrating. In spite of the frustrations, my husband is happier with this project than he has been with any of his other projects.

I’m angry at myself because I don’t share his joy. I think motorcycles are awesome machines, and this one is no exception. I’ll never ride one again myself due to past trauma, but I still love the way they look and smell, and I don’t begrudge Michael the time he spends with Charlotte, his motorcycle. (I came up with the name, and Michael liked it. She really does look like a Charlotte.) While I do enjoy playing Wurm Online, cooking, and watching the odd documentary when Nem is napping, I don’t have the same joy my husband has with his hobbies.

On another note, my nibling was waiting for the school bus with a good friend who lived in the neighborhood. The bus had been running late or not running at all week. Due to the heat and the bus being more than 90 minutes late, my nibling got annoyed and decided to head back to the house. Their friend opted to wait a bit longer, so my nibling stayed on the phone with her while she waited. When my nibling’s friend was alone, she was approached by a man who asked her if she needed a ride. My nibling’s friend said no and started to walk away. The man got out of his truck and started pursuing her. My nibling told their friend to run and get help. Their friend got help, and the man pursuing her got arrested.

The man who attempted to snatch my nibling’s friend had a long record of wrongdoing that was gradually escalating into more serious crimes. His most recent crime, according to court records, was violating an order of protection. He was given a suspended sentence of one year of jail time and two years of probation.

It wasn’t the first time he was given a suspended sentence and probation. As I recall from his court records, there were at least two other times when he was given a suspended sentence and probation. I find myself wondering if the prosecuting attorneys in that county aren’t paying attention to prior offenses when prosecuting cases with certain kinds of criminals. Just looking at this guy’s history, he’s been escalating. I’m all for second chances and rehabilitation, but anyone who reads the guy’s case history can see that being given so many second chances over the years just made him bolder in his crimes.

I guess that’s why his claims of innocence and victim blaming are so utterly absurd. He claimed that he thought they were prostitutes, and he had been watching them all week. Do sex workers anywhere wear backpacks? Do they often look for clients at school bus stops? Do they stay in the same place for 90 minutes before giving up and heading home?

Anyway, I hope the prosecutors and judges wise up and hold the guy accountable before he decides that he can stalk and kill someone while he’s on probation with a suspended sentence yet again.

So, that’s where I’m at now. Processing grief and anger that someone who was repeatedly handed second chances wasted them all while others who were never given a second chance or were wrongfully convicted sit in prison.

Life’s not fair, but it’s up to all of us to do what we can to make things better.