Roo
18-04-2008, 05:21 AM
I'm in a very difficult, PTSD-triggering situation (haven't been triggered like this in about 23 years!!) and I'm going to milk it for all it's worth. Meaning: I'm going to consciously use a crisis to grow. (Whew!)
Easier said than done, eh? :wink:
Brief backstory: My husband, G., and I live in a three-storey walkup, on the top floor. For the last two years, a middle-aged man and his two sons (late teens - early 20s) have lived next door to us. The father has always come across as courteous and pleasant...but the sons...these are mean, nasty boys. Whenever they are in or around the building (with their pack of "friends"), the noise is constant: yelling, swearing, fighting, banging into/onto walls, thumping bass and "music", slamming through the halls and up & down the stairs, slouching outside the building, yelling "f***in'" this and "f***in'" that, tearing down the street on those one-geared, eardrum-piercing (and illegal) micro-bikes at 3 a.m. Drug dealing/use is a possibility.
G. and I have done everything from a neighbourly knock on their door, to speaking with two previous superintendents to banging on the wall and calling the police. I've been living in a state of high alert for two years. I don't feel safe when I'm home alone.
Two days ago, it all blew. A pack of these kids were next door, louder than ever. Screaming. Pounding each other; thrashing against the walls and out into the hallway. One crash had me expecting to see a body crash into my kitchen -- and I called 911. (So did at least two other residents, including our super.) Said what I had to say, then called my husband, who was on his way home. Warned him.
Four cop cruisers came, as did a forensics van. No one, to my knowledge, was arrested (dammit!), although photos were taken, and the police were here for about 2.5 hours. (Our regional police force is ace :thumbs-up when it comes to domestic violence.)
Someone had kicked a hole through the hallway wall; in the boys' apartment, one wall has a huge crack running down its length.
G. and I had a long conversation with our new superintendent that evening and I gave them a six-page document that I have been compiling for two years about how these kids invade our home -- and the neighbourhood -- and I included all the steps we'd already taken to get action...
I was a quaking, bawling wreck for a while, and G. just listened and held me. He spoke with the property manager the next morning; she had a copy of my document in her hands and she was all over herself to apologize, noting that as a woman, she could not have stood living with that constant aggression so close. Yesterday, too, G. (who's a hair stylist) trimmed the locks of the owner of our property management company; according to G., the owner was appalled. We got an immediate, decisive response from both the police and our property managers. Charges will be laid against the kids (YESSS!) and the family is being evicted. :thumbs-up
I just have to get to May 31st (the day they leave) intact. It appears that the kids are staying elsewhere, but they've been coming to the building in the afternoons (when their father is at work), and they yell insults outside the building, stomp up the stairs, and blast heavy metal when they are inside. I still don't feel safe...BUT I am working on it!!! (For starters, a triple lock on our door and the phone beside me!)
You know what? I feel pissed. Part of me would happily hurl these little buggers off their balcony, and my husband...he's ex-military, so he's being very self-containing, if you know what I mean. He would go ballistic if they laid a hand on me.
He is right beside me in this and he's coming to understand so deeply what I live with. I've not reacted at this pitch in about 23 years; we've been together for six so he's never encountered me in trauma mode. "Normal" right now is "please scrape me off the ceiling." One of our cats jumped on the arm of my chair yesterday evening and I shot off my seat...even faster than the cat, if you can imagine that :rofl:
But I'm acting -- not freezing. I'm doing things, and keeping my awareness in the present. I'm acting, along with other people, and seeing how taking action can make things change. It sounds so basic, I know...but I guess I'm getting it in a deeper part of me.
I'm not having flashbacks. Oh sweet relief. My heart sometimes pounds like it'll explode from my chest, I'm so on alert...but I'm also aware in a new and calm way. It's almost like another aspect of myself has been evolving, and through this crisis, it has fully come into being. It's like a witness, a sage, simply noting the present and acting from that in simple, mindful ways. Wow. I feel like I have something to celebrate here :occasion:
I also have to calm my racing heart. Take special care of my safety needs until the end of May. Keep the phone nearby.
Easier said than done, eh? :wink:
Brief backstory: My husband, G., and I live in a three-storey walkup, on the top floor. For the last two years, a middle-aged man and his two sons (late teens - early 20s) have lived next door to us. The father has always come across as courteous and pleasant...but the sons...these are mean, nasty boys. Whenever they are in or around the building (with their pack of "friends"), the noise is constant: yelling, swearing, fighting, banging into/onto walls, thumping bass and "music", slamming through the halls and up & down the stairs, slouching outside the building, yelling "f***in'" this and "f***in'" that, tearing down the street on those one-geared, eardrum-piercing (and illegal) micro-bikes at 3 a.m. Drug dealing/use is a possibility.
G. and I have done everything from a neighbourly knock on their door, to speaking with two previous superintendents to banging on the wall and calling the police. I've been living in a state of high alert for two years. I don't feel safe when I'm home alone.
Two days ago, it all blew. A pack of these kids were next door, louder than ever. Screaming. Pounding each other; thrashing against the walls and out into the hallway. One crash had me expecting to see a body crash into my kitchen -- and I called 911. (So did at least two other residents, including our super.) Said what I had to say, then called my husband, who was on his way home. Warned him.
Four cop cruisers came, as did a forensics van. No one, to my knowledge, was arrested (dammit!), although photos were taken, and the police were here for about 2.5 hours. (Our regional police force is ace :thumbs-up when it comes to domestic violence.)
Someone had kicked a hole through the hallway wall; in the boys' apartment, one wall has a huge crack running down its length.
G. and I had a long conversation with our new superintendent that evening and I gave them a six-page document that I have been compiling for two years about how these kids invade our home -- and the neighbourhood -- and I included all the steps we'd already taken to get action...
I was a quaking, bawling wreck for a while, and G. just listened and held me. He spoke with the property manager the next morning; she had a copy of my document in her hands and she was all over herself to apologize, noting that as a woman, she could not have stood living with that constant aggression so close. Yesterday, too, G. (who's a hair stylist) trimmed the locks of the owner of our property management company; according to G., the owner was appalled. We got an immediate, decisive response from both the police and our property managers. Charges will be laid against the kids (YESSS!) and the family is being evicted. :thumbs-up
I just have to get to May 31st (the day they leave) intact. It appears that the kids are staying elsewhere, but they've been coming to the building in the afternoons (when their father is at work), and they yell insults outside the building, stomp up the stairs, and blast heavy metal when they are inside. I still don't feel safe...BUT I am working on it!!! (For starters, a triple lock on our door and the phone beside me!)
You know what? I feel pissed. Part of me would happily hurl these little buggers off their balcony, and my husband...he's ex-military, so he's being very self-containing, if you know what I mean. He would go ballistic if they laid a hand on me.
He is right beside me in this and he's coming to understand so deeply what I live with. I've not reacted at this pitch in about 23 years; we've been together for six so he's never encountered me in trauma mode. "Normal" right now is "please scrape me off the ceiling." One of our cats jumped on the arm of my chair yesterday evening and I shot off my seat...even faster than the cat, if you can imagine that :rofl:
But I'm acting -- not freezing. I'm doing things, and keeping my awareness in the present. I'm acting, along with other people, and seeing how taking action can make things change. It sounds so basic, I know...but I guess I'm getting it in a deeper part of me.
I'm not having flashbacks. Oh sweet relief. My heart sometimes pounds like it'll explode from my chest, I'm so on alert...but I'm also aware in a new and calm way. It's almost like another aspect of myself has been evolving, and through this crisis, it has fully come into being. It's like a witness, a sage, simply noting the present and acting from that in simple, mindful ways. Wow. I feel like I have something to celebrate here :occasion:
I also have to calm my racing heart. Take special care of my safety needs until the end of May. Keep the phone nearby.