Back in November I left the apartment with my children and went to a women's shelter. It was an hour and a half transit ride from home turf. There were good and bad things with it, right from the start.
I had a spot of good luck what with a woman giving me money on the bus because she realized I was on the way to the shelter (she'd been there herself before, and overheard Alex and I talking about the area we were en-route to, and also what with receiving a purple robe when I had thought I wouldn't be getting one after all for Christmas as I had wanted, and also Alex receiving a Monopoly board game, just as he had wanted!
Funny how things take on new meaning sometimes.
The bad luck was that I was amidst changing my meds from one type to another (bad time to be leaving home), my right arm's nerve problems came back with a fury enough that I had to visit an e.r. for the pain, it was Christmas and I was flat broke, and my son had a violent altercation forced upon him at the new school (first time anything like that happened to him. I think I may have been more traumatized by that than him!)
The children and I are back home, and my partner has moved out. Life is much better this way, even though we are facing a move. I'm apartment hunting on line and have found a few possibilities. It looks like we'll have to take a one-bedroom place to afford anything in the area. As long as we're near to Alex's preferred high-school and the rent is affordable.
Things are much less stressful at home. If anyone yells, it's me hollering up the stairs to Alex, or blowing my lid because he won't do his chores without a lot of hoopla on my part, but man! It surely isn't the same kind of tone and meaning as Steve exhibited. And what a difference that has made. My stomach isn't clenched anymore.