Fight.

I was supposed to write about flight today.

I decided I wasn't in that kind of mood. 

Too much has happened this week...and my brain has been in a full fledged "fight" mode for a long time.

So let's talk about fight, the second trauma response (of four) that I've been discussing. 

This one is my favorite if I'm being honest.

Because it requires confrontation. 

And if I'm being completely honest with myself...
sometimes I crave confrontation because I had to avoid it for so many long. 

I spent so many years swallowing my fear, my anger, my frustration...because it was safer that way. 

It was safer for me, it was safer for my siblings...and it was safer for my mom if I just kept my mouth shut.

-Head down.
-Let it happen.
-Don't argue, don't comment, just let it happen.
-Don't risk more harm by fighting, just let it happen.

Most importantly
-Don't get yourself in trouble and gather information so you can fight and get out when it counts.

But I craved confrontation.

I wanted to protect myself from the horrendous things that were happening. 

I thought about all the ways I could get out of my situation. 

I would lay in my bed at night and think about what would happen if that bastard of a man walked through my bedroom door high out of his mind again.

I slept with a frying pan under my pillow nearly every night we lived in one of the houses.

The surge of full adrenaline that hit me every time that man came within my eyesight...24/7 ready for a fight that might actually get me out forever. In my brain I had equated "getting out" with not having to live there...or dying. Either way- I was out. I had a mental argument with myself constantly over whether it was worth the risk. It either had to be just enough to get out of the house...or enough that he would kill me and I wouldn't have to feel it anymore.

I also recognized that there are some fights you probably won't win...
and I had learned to pick my moments.
My options were getting to safety...or ceasing to exist.

Dad high on cocaine and painkillers?  
Probably not your moment. 

Dad happy drunk and unpredictable?
Probably not your moment.

Dad in a good mood for an unknown reason and acting way too friendly?
Probably not your moment.

Unfortunately that was my life for a long time. 

Until he got sloppy.

I waited. I held my time. I documented what I could. 

And then I ran.
I went into flight.

It didn't go well. I hid, called for help, and waited for a rescue.

I learned quickly at 14 that the police weren't going to do a damn thing and I had to deal with the consequences of trying to run. Now dad was the scary calm talking to these people...talking about how I was an issue and he was "so sorry" they had to "deal with my behavior" that night. Meanwhile every time he glanced at me...I could see the black behind his eyes. So I went back to fawn...I apologized, I hid, I placated, I appeased a man that was actively discussing how he wanted to end my life.

Months later...fight kicked in again. It came down to an incident in our home where he detailed how I wasn't going to live through the night...and then he left. He was so confident in the manipulation and control he had over me that I wouldn't do anything if he wasn't there.

He was wrong. I was ready to fight again. I waited...and I called for help again. 

I'll give you one guess what the police did this time...

Nothing.

But that fight was heavier this time. It was deep in my gut and I knew I was fighting for my life at this point. No one else was going to.

I also knew you can only push so hard with a psychopath before they snap and you are just the collateral damage. Walking back into that house was only going to end one way.

Fight.
Adrenaline rush.
Immediate response to the threat.

So at 14 I told the police I wasn't going back. 
I stood in the street as they tried to argue with me.
And then I threatened to punch a police officer in the face so that they would have to arrest me and throw me in juvenile detention. 

Fight.

Hardest part of this trauma response...?

1- keeping yourself alive because some fights can absolutely kill you.

2- learning how to determine which of those fights are worth it.

To this day I have moments in public where I see something happening and I want to insert myself into it because other people DESERVE the basic protection I didn't get. I see things and I want to jump in and intervene. 

But I have 6 beautiful kids. 5 of which are still incredibly young and need me.

So do I walk away like all the adults did to me 30 years ago?
Or do I get myself involved and risk myself to *maybe* help someone.

Don't ask my husband. He doesn't like my usual reaction...

Fight.