Standing Up, Falling Down.

The years were long. That’s how I feel now when I look back. Years that dragged on with the same results no matter the solutions I tried to put in place. There were times when I thought I was making progress, but they were fleeting. Looking back I can see that the times when I felt hopeful were so short lived that it seems impossible now to think they were enough to keep me believing things were going to change. Often hope could not be sustained for even a full day. Things would settle and feel manageable and then something throughout the day would be enough to set us down the path again; biting comments, condescension, disapproval. All designed, I see now, to make me doubt my decisions, doubt myself.

Believe me, I fought against it. I tried. I explained to him why I made the choices I made. I stood up for what I had already decided. I wouldn’t be forced to back down on things that were important to me. I thought I was being strong, standing my ground, showing him where my lines were as a Mom. But that fight was constant and it was exhausting. It could be about anything. The items I added to the grocery cart, how late I stayed up, how early I went to bed, who I spoke with at a party, what time I arrived home from work, the way I put the pots and pans away, and on and on.

And then there was how I raised my children, how I interacted with them and nurtured my relationship with them. That is part of the story that I do not know when I will be ready to tell. There is still pain wrapped in and around those memories. Memories of mistakes I never thought I would make as a Mom. I used to hope that when I arrived at that part of the story, I would be able to tell it. My boys are the reason I was strong enough to leave. They are the reason I am determined to share enough of what happened in my life to hopefully help others change what is happening in theirs. But what happened for them is their story to tell, should they ever decide. And if they talk about the gravel delivery in the driveway, the popcorn machine, the new flooring, the backpack, the forks and spoons, the arm grab, the hot tub cover and so much more, that will be their decision. It’s not my story to tell except to say, your instincts scream for a reason. Your stomach twists and your eyes water and your panic response kicks in to help you. You can choose not to listen. You can choose to rationalize the irrational. But I wouldn’t recommend it.

You can change your story. You can change everything. I know it doesn’t seem true while you are in it. You believe there are so many logistics, you could drown in them. I had logistics waiting to drown me too. Money, children, a home, mutual friends, extended family. But the moment you are not in it, you know you will never go back. And the logistics….they work out in ways you can’t imagine or predict, as long as you keep moving towards freedom from that person. That person does not control you. They have just convinced you they do. As soon as you stop believing them, they lose every bit of power they had over you. Not believing is very hard when you are in their presence. For me it was impossible while in his presence. So when I say run, what I mean is, RUN. It’s your LIFE. You wouldn’t give it up if someone was chasing you in the dark in the woods. Don’t give it up while someone hunts you under the guise of ‘this is our home’, ‘you should have known’, ‘if only you would’, ‘I’ve told you before’. If you are quieting parts of yourself to appease someone else, to stay safe from someone else, you are letting them take your life. YOUR LIFE. Don’t do that.