I lay awake that night til 3am, bawling. I couldn’t move a muscle, partly from fear and disbelief, partly because Jeremy was sleeping and I didn’t want to wake him. All of the anger I had kept bottled up came spilling out. I was infuriated that this crap was coming up again. I was infuriated that the little bit of time I had with Dad growing up was tainted. I was infuriated that she could do these things to me and get away with it. I was infuriated that she could be hurting someone else.

For the next 3 days, I was obsessed with finding out if she had ever been convicted for her disgusting crimes. I googled her name, and felt sick when I saw it attached to my Dad’s. I tried to do a background check, showing any criminal activity. I paid for a 24 hour trial on netsleuth.com, which turned out to be a scam – I couldn’t get any information without paying additional fees. I actually found her on reunion.com, but without paying a yearly fee, or signing a montly contract, I couldn’t get past her screen name, age and location. I tried to get as much free info I could, using the alias of Kelly Smith, a 53 year old male from NY (don’t ask – it just came to me!). Finally, my obsession ended. But my disgust and anger didn’t.

I couldn’t tell anyone about this. I didn’t want to begin counseling again. So, I just dealt…til I called the IRS…

I was calling for the umpteenth time, trying to get some stuff figured out with our business and personal accounts. The lady I talked to ended up arguing with me about what could and could not be done, and I argued right back. Just like the woman on the show, this woman on the phone set off a trigger of sorts, and again I was back in my childhood hell with my stepmother. Oh my gosh! Are you kidding me? I feel sick. I’m dizzy. I have this emptiness in my gut – an abyss that has no end. I can’t do this…I’ve got to settle down. I’ve got Caedmon in the back seat. I just got to town – how am I supposed to get anything done when I feel trapped inside myself? I took care of one errand, shaking the entire way through. By the time I got back in the car, I was shaking and crying again. Are you kidding me? This is ridiculous! How old am I? I cannot believe that this stuff is bothering me again! Get over yourself! Goodness…

I did calm down eventually, after asking Deb to just talk to me about nothing in particular. I couldn’t tell her what was wrong, but she did just carry on a conversation with me about the past couple of days, her kids, her life. It did help tremendously. I felt like an ass not telling her why I needed her to talk to me, but I really felt as though I shouldn’t.

This goes on for about a month. I would be a mess by the end of some days, and Jeremy would get dinner for he and the kids while I soaked in the jacuzzi. He would rub my back for everytime I thought about her and replaced that thought with my kids and himself. I thanked him for being so supportive, and assured him I was going to get past this. He knew I had been up late one night because of crap with her, but he didn’t ask any further questions. I felt so out of control of my emotions. I would cry at the drop of a hat.

Then we started studying Hebrews 1 in substantial depth…