Blinking my eyes and rolling over to
turn off the alarm, I realize another day has dawned. I lay there listening to the sounds of the
world outside the window and start going through the my to-do list; workout,
pack lunches, make sure homework and permission slips are signed, find shoes,
etc. Moments later there are hugs,
kisses, and goodbyes exchanged and the kids are off to school.
It is now time to wake him up. Although
I am enjoying the peaceful moment, I can’t let him sleep too long or it will
not be a good day. On goes the TV. On goes the computer. That ought to help ease him awake. I guess it is working, so far so good. I am not allowed to brief him on the events of
the day; he has not had his breakfast and coffee yet. He needs that time to wake up and enjoy the
peace and quiet, he is however the only one with a job. Now he
is off to work, and I, well I am off to do whatever it is a freeloader does in
her day.
Looking at the time, I cannot believe
how fast today went. There were so many
things I did not get done. I am so
slow. Hopefully the rain will hold off tomorrow
and I can cut the grass first thing in the morning. There is no time and now I will have to wait
till Saturday to trim the hedges; maybe I can find time after the soccer game. That means cleaning out the garage and making
a trip to the Goodwill drop-off will have to wait another week. I hope I won’t have to cancel my coffee date
with my friend. It is so good to be
reminded of who I am, only if for an hour it would be worth it. I haven’t seen her in a while.
I’m so glad the kids and I are home
and practice is done. I’m so lazy. This house is a wreck and it is time to start
dinner and get everyone busy with their homework. I will have to get up earlier tomorrow. Oh, well I deserve it. I should not have taken so long at the
grocery store. I feel bad for spending
his money. He will be so upset that I
spent my allowance. I will have to make
things stretch this month. I will have
to cut back on my driving. Gas is so
expensive. I hope he is in a good mood
when he comes home. I want to sleep
tonight.
Homework is done. Food is put away. Dishes are done. Goodnights have been said. I did not do anything today. I should do some ironing. It is starting to pile up and I am getting
tired of walking around the ironing board.
I know he will need his work pants tomorrow anyway.
I hear the truck pull in the driveway. I get his plate ready to warm up his
dinner. I have to let him unwind before
I can brief him on the events of the day.
He decides to watch a little TV and check his email while eating his
dinner in the bedroom. I’ll just wait
and do it in the morning. He must have
had a rough day. Besides I probably look
terrible. After he mentioned that
beautiful woman that came in the store today, I realize that I should have
dressed up today. It is my fault. I really should dress better.
Finished ironing his pants, finished
putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, check all the doors, check on
the kids. I’m so glad it is time for
bed. Maybe I can do some reading till I
fall asleep. He will be on the computer
for a couple more hours.
Huh?
What time is it? I’m
confused. Why is he yelling at me? Why can’t I breathe? Oh! That! I’m getting tired of resisting. I have no more strength. I cannot fight anymore. He is right, I should submit to him. I deserve it. I’m
lazy, slow, I look and act like an old woman, I’m stupid, worthless, just a free
loader. He wants my car keys so he can
sell my car. That is to be my punishment. Like he said, he is the one paying for it. I’m so ashamed. He does a lot for this family and he is right;
I could never find anyone else to love me.
No one would even want me. I hope
he does not wake up the kids. Besides while
laughing at me, he threw some money on the nightstand. Now I won’t have to work so hard to make
things stretch. I can’t look at him. He is a monster. I will
feel better in the morning……..
To
whom it may concern,
Some
of you may be shocked to know this is my story.
Well, an extremely condensed, G-rated version of my story. It is hard to fit 21 years of violence and abuse
in a few paragraphs. I am part of the
statistics. I had remained silent, mostly
because I was both emotionally shut down and in denial of the habitual abuse. It was too painful to utter the words to
anyone. Where would I start? And once I acknowledged it out loud, I could
not take it back. I was not able to
leave. It is never that simple. He made sure of that.
I
was also so ashamed. I felt it was my
fault. I was not good enough. I should strive to be a better person. Sick
huh? Well that is how a battered woman
feels; so helpless, so worthless, and so powerless. Survival mode is all she knows and all she has to hang on to, it is her friend.
It
is really mocking how such horrid things can be going on in someone’s life and no
one notice. It amazes me how “easy” it
was for me to hide it. My hiding place was
church. Kind of ironic isn’t it? Who is he (my abuser) to stop me from doing
the Lord’s work? I guess he had some of God
in him, although what those at church saw were nothing but a front. He made sure of that too. Who would believe me if I did tell?
So
why tell now? Because it is plaguing me. I feel if I don’t, I will be destroyed from
the inside out. You see everything that
I did not allow myself to feel is starting to surface. I get it now.
That is why they call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder rather than
Acute Stress. It happens after the
traumatic events, when survival mode can be put to rest and is no longer needed. It’s kind of cruel if you ask me. Surviving is all I knew. It was my normal. And because of this, I do not have a reset
button. I have no point of reference to
go back to. Nope, it is all uncharted
waters from here on out. Not to mention
the weight of my kids depending on me to get it right.
I
am not feeling sorry for myself, nor do I want your pity. It occurred to me the other day, that when it
comes to sacrifices we should not keep a record of the losses, but a count of what
is gained. For that is the goal. By telling my story I hope to gain
healing and peace. For it is no longer inside of
me threatening to destroy me.
I
realize this is dark and for that reason I hesitate to even post or blog about
it, but I also realize that no matter how ashamed or scared I feel, it is indeed my
reality, my truth, and my story and I possess the courage to tell it.
