There is something really fascinating about hearing these kinds of stories. Not so much in the voyeuristic way. But it creates a movie of images for me that helps me understand you better…and helps make what our children experience more human than just talking about our ex’s as vampires.
I’m realizing I dont think I told many of my stories, I’ve just spoken about my feelings, reactions, states of mind, journey which is really whats important – for me, for you – but it doesnt create a very vivid movie of images does it? I mean the important thing is that each of us comes to make meaning of our experiences, of the time we spent, of the love we gave, of the hurt we nursed.
This thread is about ego hits, theres not ours. And thats the reason I dont think I’ve told many of my stories. I think I always have this sense in the back of my head he is watching. I dont mean to say I’m paranoid, I know he isnt in this moment I’m typing, or this week, or 3 months from now. But I have this sense there is a day, maybe a whole lot of days who knows where he will come looking for me, online or in real life because he’ll want to see what I’m doing, especially as it relates to him. What has she said about me? How is she still affected by me? Is she over me yet?
And I know, if I told some of my stories, especially the ones that might get him in trouble legally, or upset someone whose opinion he values, then I’m in deep trouble, and not just the screaming at me over the phone kind of trouble.
I think I still worry a little about my life. He said he could ruin someones life a number of times in front of me, and he meant it, and I dont doubt him. And when I think about it, the precautions I took, documenting everything, and giving it to a lawyer friend, only helps authorities look at him as the prime suspect if something bad happens to me, it doesnt REALLY help protect me.
In therapy last session the topic was me feeling like a soldier guarding the secret hideaway of the little girl, always on alert, hard, cold, flat, scanning the periphary for threats instead of being contactful with the vulnerable girl inside (or anyone else I have a relationship with now).
And I suppose in that way, he’s made me more like him…well, I have made me more like him in response to what he did to me over so long. I’m not running through the house turning all the lights on anymore, like Mariel and her family (but I did for years go through drills like that constantly everyday trying to avoid or brace myself against the next conflict and punishment).
Now, there are no more lights, theres only me locking my house down like a bunker.
I should have never come here and talked about how awful things were, how awful things still are, how awful he was and still is. I should never have told the secrets he made me swear I’d keep, to our therapist, my friends who studied with him, my lawyer/police officer friends. Because eventually he will find out, if he doesnt already.
Except…
theres a part of me that refuses to be locked down and silenced in a bunker. Theres a big part of me that knows I deserve to be free…from fear, from shame, from intimidation.
I’m just having a moment this morning, wondering if that makes me a hero to myself…or a vulnerable fool?
