I feel vulnerable, so many changes recently
A lot of the things that I grew up thinking were bad now seem to me as part of the social constructs that I grew up with, rather than things that are intrinsically bad.
Most days I keep past traumas locked up in the past where they cannot intrude into the present day and harm it for me. Sometimes though I will hear certain things that will trigger the powerful memories that hide behind the door of the past.
I don't want to deal with that door. I want it to stay locked and all of the skeletons hidden away from my own or from anyone's view.
Those skeletons are not just my own monsters, but the monsters of the past that bear witness to the present circumstances I am in today.
Does it help to take those skeletons out, view them in a new light? Shake the dust off of the bones so that I will not forget the reasons for my current decisions?
I've been quivering here in my own home. Allowing the monster who destroyed it to take up residence on the couch. He cleans and cooks, takes the kids out for a fun time and I hide. This man, the one whom I vowed to love, honor and cherish. The one who I gave my virginal heart to and melted my soul into, pleading and pleading for understanding and growth.
So much of my marriage was spent in frustration. I am an idealist (or perhaps that's the wrong word), I wanted my marriage to match the image of what marriage should be. I wanted my husband to match the image of what "husband" should be. Even now my idea of what divorce is doesn't match.
I thought that once I packed his things and put them on the lawn then he would become angry with me. Perhaps develop a bitter attitude. That would make it easier to stay strong in my decision. Instead he has been worming his way into my life, knocking at the corners of my resolve, making inroads through the cracks in my heart. Making me cry out in frustration, cry out because there is no way I can truly let bygones be bygones.
Even the things that he has done are hiding in a corner of my heart because I hate the ugliness of them. I hate telling people what he has done because they won't understand why I let him stick around when they know what he did. They think that there is no way they would let him stick around, perhaps they would not. Perhaps they would have let him go to jail. Would have fought back the tears of their baby daughter when she asked why daddy lived there.
Perhaps they could. But I haven't. I have let my resolve crack, I've let the image of reform be paraded around like the truth. Set myself up. Equivocated. To keep playing this game of cards where maybe someday I will have the upper hand. Where I will have enough money, influence, self determination or whatever it is that I need to be free of him.
I ask myself now, do you want to be free of him? Yes and no. Yes and no. Yes and no. To be free of him would mean that I no longer have to pretend that I am OK with his presence. No, not free of him. I would lose the laughter and energy he brings home with him. Yes free of him. Free of disruption, random plans that are not well thought out.
No not free of him, not free of someone to take the kids out to do things. YES free of him, free of the lies, free of the manipulation, free from the hugs that I don't want, the kisses snuck while I'm sleeping in my bed, the fondling of my body that I am not an active part of. Why am I giving up my dignity and self respect for this enigmatic, dynamic, charismatic man??
SG
A lot of the things that I grew up thinking were bad now seem to me as part of the social constructs that I grew up with, rather than things that are intrinsically bad.
Most days I keep past traumas locked up in the past where they cannot intrude into the present day and harm it for me. Sometimes though I will hear certain things that will trigger the powerful memories that hide behind the door of the past.
I don't want to deal with that door. I want it to stay locked and all of the skeletons hidden away from my own or from anyone's view.
Those skeletons are not just my own monsters, but the monsters of the past that bear witness to the present circumstances I am in today.
Does it help to take those skeletons out, view them in a new light? Shake the dust off of the bones so that I will not forget the reasons for my current decisions?
I've been quivering here in my own home. Allowing the monster who destroyed it to take up residence on the couch. He cleans and cooks, takes the kids out for a fun time and I hide. This man, the one whom I vowed to love, honor and cherish. The one who I gave my virginal heart to and melted my soul into, pleading and pleading for understanding and growth.
So much of my marriage was spent in frustration. I am an idealist (or perhaps that's the wrong word), I wanted my marriage to match the image of what marriage should be. I wanted my husband to match the image of what "husband" should be. Even now my idea of what divorce is doesn't match.
I thought that once I packed his things and put them on the lawn then he would become angry with me. Perhaps develop a bitter attitude. That would make it easier to stay strong in my decision. Instead he has been worming his way into my life, knocking at the corners of my resolve, making inroads through the cracks in my heart. Making me cry out in frustration, cry out because there is no way I can truly let bygones be bygones.
Even the things that he has done are hiding in a corner of my heart because I hate the ugliness of them. I hate telling people what he has done because they won't understand why I let him stick around when they know what he did. They think that there is no way they would let him stick around, perhaps they would not. Perhaps they would have let him go to jail. Would have fought back the tears of their baby daughter when she asked why daddy lived there.
Perhaps they could. But I haven't. I have let my resolve crack, I've let the image of reform be paraded around like the truth. Set myself up. Equivocated. To keep playing this game of cards where maybe someday I will have the upper hand. Where I will have enough money, influence, self determination or whatever it is that I need to be free of him.
I ask myself now, do you want to be free of him? Yes and no. Yes and no. Yes and no. To be free of him would mean that I no longer have to pretend that I am OK with his presence. No, not free of him. I would lose the laughter and energy he brings home with him. Yes free of him. Free of disruption, random plans that are not well thought out.
No not free of him, not free of someone to take the kids out to do things. YES free of him, free of the lies, free of the manipulation, free from the hugs that I don't want, the kisses snuck while I'm sleeping in my bed, the fondling of my body that I am not an active part of. Why am I giving up my dignity and self respect for this enigmatic, dynamic, charismatic man??
SG
