Defeated

Once again, I feel as though I have no voice. I will likely always feel this way with him.

Changes to visitation days, changes to drop-offs last minute, bending over backwards and doing everything so that he isn’t inconvenienced on my time. Unfair expectations and treatment bringing me undue stress. I tried to stand up for myself, but I was shut down and ignored. I’m too afraid to breach the topic once more. I’m just asking to meet half way, like any reasonable person would do.

He isn’t reasonable, though. I think back to our marriage and I never had a voice then, either. He always found a way to make me feel as though my opinion was wrong. What I felt didn’t make sense. I was too emotional and would drive myself crazy. By the end of every moment where I would try and get some fair treatment from him, I would be curled up in a ball in our bed crying by myself.

He always left me to cry alone.

I remember one night our child came to comfort me. They still try and comfort me after he upsets me, but I don’t think they know the tears are from their daddy. I don’t allow a lot of tears in front of them, but they know why I excuse myself to my room.

I wish he didn’t have this power over me. I wish he didn’t have power over anything. I want to live free of him, but I can’t.

Sometimes I fantasize about changing my name and moving away – leaving all of this madness behind. I wish I had the potential to be cold, uncaring and abandon our children with him and never look back.

They need me, though. 

So I stay. I do the things that I need to do to keep our home functioning. I try so hard to phrase everything is a positive way, to avoid having big punishments and instead use my language and natural consequences to guide them. I do not want to take away their autonomy. I don’t ever want them to feel the same way I did, even though I know that they already do while they are there.

I have never felt so helpless. I thought it was bad when people didn’t believe me about what I was enduring, but it feels even worse when I know that innocent children have to experience the same emotional/mental abuse, and people aren’t listening**. I wish that I could do more, but all I can do is create a safe space for them here.

I will blanket them with love and acceptance. If they are away for some reason, I will patiently wait for their return. I am their mama and that will never change. I would never do anything to jeopardize my opportunity to be there for them.

If continuing on through the same battle (just different theme) until I am tore apart, bloody and broken, is what I must do, then that is what I will do. I know that I will always be able to find healing along my journey, and I am strong enough to do it for them.

Tonight I will go to sleep instead of worrying about what I must do tomorrow to not let him interfere with my time with the kids, even if that means another area of my life will be interfered with.

He’s robbing me.

**If anyone stumbles upon this and wonders if I have said anything about the alleged mental abuse, reports have been made. Our system is broken. Mostly situations of physical abuse and neglect are seen. Emotional abuse is hard to catch unless it starts to make a physical appearance. I always intend to have every child’s best interest in mind, not just the ones of my own. I speak with people that are mandated child abuse reporters when I am unsure. I am a squeaky wheel, but where’s my grease? 
Advertisements

Watch the Phoenix Rise

This isn’t how I thought it would be once I got out. I imagined something different. I had expectations. I try not to think back at all the mistakes I made. I was stuck in denial; blind to how destructive he was capable of being.

I think I started to realize it after the fire.

He didn’t realize I caught fire, too. Who I was burned up with our home. I rebuilt myself from those ashes.

Now watch me as I soar high above your clouds of anger. I swoop past your lies and manipulations. I cry healing tears over those caught in the middle.

Watch the Phoenix rise.

I love you so

**I read this as some sad nursery rhyme sang by an abused woman, desperate for a solution in the fucked up system that she is trapped in, overwhelmed by feelings of powerlessness and despair, yearning for someone with power to help, and realizing all she can do is be present. Read it like that. It makes more sense then, I think.

 

Oh, how I love you so
I don’t think you know
How I love you so

Your little hands in mine
Swinging in a line
Your little hands in mine

Oh, I love you so
I don’t think you know
How I love you so

Your bright blue eyes
Entranced by the skies
Your bright blue eyes

Oh, I love you so
I don’t think you know
How I love you so

You reach out for me
Tears flow into seas
You reach out for me

Oh, I love you so
They don’t seem to know
How I love you so

We were torn apart
Gaping hole in our hearts
We were torn apart

Oh, I love you so
They don’t seem to know
How I love you so

Always fighting for you
No clue what else to do
Always fighting for you

Oh, I love you so
They don’t seem to know
How I love you so

Can’t stop the abuse
There won’t be a truce
Can’t stop the abuse

Oh, I love you so
They don’t seem to know
How I love you so

I’ll keep you warm
Shelter from the storm
I’ll keep you warm

Oh, I love you so
I don’t think you know
How I love you so

You are not alone
We are cast in stone
You are not alone

Oh, how I love you so
I don’t think you know
How I love you so

 

 

No voice

I want to tell you everything that happened.

Hush
Hush
Hush

They won’t let you speak.

Hold in your truth,
Breath out their lies.
They won’t let you speak.

Rage, rage inside
Compartmentalize.
They won’t let you speak.

Hide who you are,
Must cease to exist.
They won’t let you speak.

Hush
Hush
Hush

This is just the beginning

I did it. I made the changes that I needed to make and now here I am…wondering if I fucked everything up. Did I? I suppose only time will tell.

Each time with you kills me a little inside. When you cry, you aren’t calling out my name. When you are angry, you say hurtful words. I hear him speaking through you. I hear him. I wish I could stop hearing him. And when I am away from you, I still hear him. He’s in my head and I cannot get him out.

I won’t give up, though. I am going to keep going. I am going to continue trying to replace his hurtful words with something beautiful and loving. I will love myself and in time you will see that I’m not what he says I am.

In time, I will feel like I’m not what he says I am. I know I’m not, but my god, how deeply I feel like I am.