I also found my last entry to be somewhat of a "sign" or "omen" of what was to follow. I wrote about the character "Nomi Malone" in Showgirls, and her struggle to survive and come to grips with her own demons. Much to my own surprise it turned out to be my very own "sub-conscious" talking. As within a weeks time, I was that very girl in the car going over the words I wrote in that post about leaving and looking in the rear view mirror, and standing up for myself in face of abuse, thinking to myself, "I am out of here!"
For a brief moment a sense of relief had washed over me, like some much needed rain. I had just left my a man, who abused me for well over a year.
"What a remarkable thing to do" they say. What "they" don't tell you is, the moment of "relief" is only temporary and there is a long, long, long road ahead. But, it was worth it.
Had I not left that day, I am pretty sure that I wouldn't be here typing this right now.
I suppose that in the next few entries I will write more about this experience in more detail. I still am dealing with a lot of PTSD, and still asking myself what seems to be the never-ending question of "WHY"? and how can a person that you once loved so deeply, and loved you back, actually finds that evil within themselves to abuse another human being mentally and psychically.
I still wrestle with those emotions to this day and I still pray every day that they will somehow go away. But I believe Domestic Violence is like the death of a loved one. It's something that no matter what, you will never fully get over. Perhaps we recover, and heal, but we just never forget it. The wounds are just to deep, and wounds leave scars.
I can say this for sure, after almost 3 years that I am not in any place of forgetting what had happened to me. Yet, form an enormous amount of thought and dare I say "Prayer" I have come closer to "Forgiveness". Which was something that I also felt would be an absolute impossible thing to do. I am now more on the side of "victor" as opposed to "victim".
This is the part where the image of "Pandora's Box" comes in. Over the course of the past few years, why would I even want to come to this blog and explain all this? I don't have to explain anything to anyone, especially this.
Why would I want to open this box of pure evil and re-visit a flood of bad memories, fear and anxiety release itself out into the blog universe? Because, simply, I feel ready to do so.
In my journey to heal myself, I have learned, much to my dismay, that the only one who is really going to heal me is me. Despite the initial feeling that the whole world was going to come to my aid with a sympathetic ear and a warm place to feel safe again.
Leaving is just the beginning of many things that you would never see coming, Things and emotions that you didn't even know you could feel or existed.
I was very confused about two very standout things. The first one being, how could I have been so stupid? and why did I stay as long as I did?.
I had the will to "move forward". That word constantly seemed to be the "go-to" word for every single person that I had encountered after I left.
Sadly, it's so much, much more complicated than that.
I had felt I was finally on track and after months of moping around, sleepless nights and lack of showering, I was ready to go out and face the world and go and see a few friends. I got my hair and nails done. I got new clothes. I went to a party, and met someone new that very day.
It felt like all the pieces that had literally been knocked out of me, were slowly falling back into place.
But it was so far from that.
I left one hell and stepped right into another.
And here it we are, almost three years later.
Ironic How close it is to the date of my last entry to returning here, and that this Month is "National Domestic Abuse Awareness Month".
That's the "Pandora's Box" that I haven't had the desire to open and kept me from confronting and writing about the face of evil and abuse.
It was hard to come back here and explain the reasons why I had stopped putting entries in.
I can now. And I am grateful for that.
Photo: Curiously of ancienthistory.about.com
