Stressed or Distressed

My dog is at the vet right now. He is having a relatively serious operation to repair a torn ligament in his hind leg. I am concerned, and I suppose on a certain level I am stressed. However, the dog is at the vet and not hobbling around the house, this is cause for relief. My Mother was able and willing to cover the bill for the procedure. This is also a relief, particularly since the dog tried to eat one of her cats shortly after we got here.  I don't really believe that was his intent, but Mom still has her suspicions.
Since he is my fur baby and I do love my animals, I am concerned. I do not believe that I am distressed. I think the difference between stress and distress, for myself at least, is the ability to see the positive aspects of a stressful situation.
I have found them in strange places and under the worst of circumstances. When Guy Curtis beat me in July of last year it was a horribly traumatic experience, and for the first month I was incredibly distressed. I lied to family and friends out of some bizarre need to protect his reputation. His sister in law happens to be the niece of one of my very best friends. I did not want to cause undo harm to any relationships outside of my own. I spent a lot of time and energy trying to reach him in an effort to save him from himself. Not only did he beat me, and I mean beat me like a man, he stole my car to make his get away to Florida.
As I came out of the haze of denial anger began to replace the hurt and sense of loss as well as the cold fear.
I finally sought medical treatment for my injuries and found out that my black eye had irreparably damaged the muscle that controls the function of my pupil. This was distressing and I was referred to an ophthalmologist for further testing and diagnosis.
While this process was ongoing it was discovered that I had glaucoma in both of my eyes. This discovery became the thing that turned my distress into simply stress. Had I not seen the ophthalmologist the glaucoma may have gone unnoticed until it became a serious issue.
I am not an overly optimistic person, I think of myself as a realist. I hope for the best, prepare for the worst, and if I am lucky I land somewhere in the middle of the circumstances that present themselves.
My stolen car became my focus more so than the beating. I pursued and posted and did my best on my own to determine where it was and how to get it back. Michigan required I wait 30 days before they would file the necessary reports to render it a stolen vehicle rather than a simple domestic issue. Months went by and I had no word about the car. When I did finally hear about it's location I was completely surprised to find out it was in excellent condition. Guy Curtis had managed to trade it in at a dealership in Florida, who then sold it to an auto auction in Gainesville, Florida who in turn sold it to a dealership in Valdosta, Georgia. No one had bothered to try and transfer the title until the dealership sold the vehicle to a customer, at which point the title came back stolen.
I argued and fought and became distressed because I felt that I was being put off by the people that I needed to help me. I recruited my son, who is much more level headed than I am to take over the negotiations. My ultimate hope had become a return of the vehicle to me so that I could give it to my son. I can no longer drive  because of my vision issues. Unfortunately the best resolution we could get was a cash settlement from an insurance agency representing the auction, I believe. The distress abated, all was over and the outcome was actually much better than I thought it would be. I landed in the middle.
I understand that there are authorities looking for Guy Curtis on fraud charges in Florida as well as Georgia. Since it is somehow felt that this issue could have been considered a domestic issue I have discovered that there is a statute of limitations on domestic assault in Michigan that gives me five years to file my complaint. I have chosen to utilize that waiting period, at least a part of it, to regain my strength, physically and emotionally. As I continue to process more criminal charges come to mind. In all honesty, completely out of a need for some form of closure, I want to be in the courtroom when the judge brings the gavel down. I believe that will be the final page in this horrific chapter of my life.
Back to my dog, Bubba Moose came through his surgery just fine. The injury was repaired in a timely fashion and did not create a bigger issue for him. In this instant I have landed a little closer to the best possible outcome instead of in the middle.