At 9:12 am on May 21, 2003, the only peace I knew was the unsettling desire to die, the constant throbbing of the voice screaming at me to let go, give in, give up, give over my life to the darkness that consumed me. I wanted to end it all. To have the turmoil and pain and fear of living with an abuser die with me.
At 9:13 am on May 21, 2003, everything changed. Everything shifted and my world as I knew it ended. A police car drove up and I stood watching as two officers stepped from the car.
At 9:14 am I followed the officers into the room where my abuser lay sleeping and watched them arrest him.
They took him away and I sat in a chair in a room I did not recognize, captive in a body I could not feel. I was catatonic. Frightened. Terrified. I had 72 cents in my pocket, a few clothes and my dog, Ellie, who had journeyed through that four year, nine month voyage through hell beside me. She was my ballast but with his arrest, I was cast adrift. I clung to her fur, cried into her shoulders but still fear eroded my being, clawed at my heart, tore my world apart.
In my fear that this horror that I was enduring would be the rest of my life, I didn’t know where I’d find myself. I didn’t know where I’d come ashore. I only knew, I had run out of options. Run out of running away, of hiding, of being frightened and alone.
I called my sister and she and her husband came to get me. We drove the hour from the small town where I had been hiding out with my abuser for 4 months, into Vancouver. They didn’t ask me questions. They didn’t prod and poke. They didn’t dig into where I’d been nor share their fear and anger. They let me sit in silence in the back seat of their car and I was grateful.
My abuser was gone but still I felt the tendrils of his control lapping at the shores of my consciousness. I felt the fear of his absence from my life ripping at the delicate thought of freedom seeping into my mind. The enticement of peace from his abuse and anger seepped quietly into a tiny corner of my heart and began to take up residence.
It was the first peace I had known for months, years even. The first sense of peace I’d let in since meeting the man who’d promised to love me ’til death do us part, and then set about making the death part come true, sooner rather than later.
And in that moment of peace, sitting in the back seat of my sister’s car, Ellie beside me, I watched the countryside roll by and wondered, where had I gone?
It would be many months before I found an answer I could live with, but in the intervening weeks, I would dig deep into my psyche to uncover the truth about what had happened to me. In my digging, I would discover there was one choice I could make, every moment of every day — to be or not to be filled with peace — peace of mind, a peaceful heart, to claim a piece of calmness within my day.
Peace didn’t come cheap. It came with great effort. With a constant reminder of the question, “What do I want to create? Harmony or discord?” “Is what I am doing creating more harmony in my life? Or less?”
And when the answer was, ‘less’, I would ask myself, “What can I do to restore peace of mind, right now, in this moment? What am I willing to do to have more of what I want in my life?”
He was arrested in May. By July I was working, rebuilding my life. I had one focus and that was to heal myself so that I could help my daughters heal. And constantly I reminded myself, my peace of mind comes when I know that what I am doing creates more of what I want in my life and less of what I don’t.
And peace came. It drifted into my being like fog rising from the ocean shores upon which I walked at night with Ellie. It came. Dressed up in a gossamer gown of morning dew resting upon the delicate petals of the flowers strewn across the garden in a joyful disarray of colour. It seeped in, shrouded in the night falling sweetly upon the end of day. Peace came and I became filled with peace of mind.
And then, the phone call arrived. It was a hot summer’s morning in August. I was getting ready to walk to the Seabus that would carry me across the bay to the downtown core. I was getting ready and peace of mind slept unaware of the moment about to arrive. The phone rang. I answered it and listened to the disturbing words of a police officer.
“Conrad has escaped from jail. We don’t know where he is but we assume he’ll come looking for you… Just thought we should warn you.”
And in one moment, my peace of mind evaporated. My sense of well-being vanished.
I started to shake. To cry. To be consumed with the fiery fringe of fear lapping at my heart, sending its beat into erratic rhythm.
My mind began to race. What if… no way… but then he could…
I shut the windows. Locked the door. And still I feared.
I wanted out. I didn’t want to let go of my peace of mind.
I took a breath. Refused to be scared. I got Ellie’s leash and called her to my side. “Let’s go for a walk,” I said.
The thought of the great outdoors enticed her. She didn’t care about my peace of mind. She just wanted to go for a walk.
And so we walked. Out the front door, through the gate, down the street. A left and then a right, across the avenue, along the trail leading into the woods. My sanctuary. My respite. My peaceful place.
I took a step into the forest’s tranquil embrace. A leaf rustled on the ground. A twig snapped.
Fear erupted. Peace escaped.
Suddenly, behind every branch, he lurked. Every rustle of leaf was his footstep. Every step took me closer to a deadly encounter.
I lasted less than two minutes in the woods before I bolted.
Peace was no longer possible. Terror reigned.
I raced down the street, back towards my sister’s home where I was living. I raced with Ellie loping beside me. It’s a game, her upturned face seemed to say. Can we play?
No, I cried. No time to play. We’ve got to get home. Home to the safety of a locked door, drawn blinds, darkness.
And in the comfort of my room, lying on my bed, Ellie watching me from the floor beside me, I cried and I cried.
How dare he steal my peace of mind. How dare he erode my tranquility.
“He doesn’t have to,” a voice somewhere in the darkness of my mind whispered. “You don’t have to let him in.”
“It’s not my choice,” I cried.
“You always have a choice,” the voice admonished.
I took a breath. A choice? A peaceful choice? The voice was right. I always have a choice.
To live in fear or peace?
Which would I choose?
There is a story of a First Nations elder who tells his grandson about the two wolves that live within each of us. One is black. One is white, he tells his grandson. And always, they are fighting to gain control of our being.
“Which one wins?” the grandson asks.
“Whichever one you feed,” replies the elder.
I fed the black wolf that day. I fed it my hard won peace of mind, my sense of well-being, my comfort. I fed what I had worked so hard to achieve and still it was hungry. It wanted more.
I had so little to give. I could not give it what I cherished most.
I took a breath and let my breath feed oxygen to the white wolf where it sat waiting at the doorway to my mind. With each breath I stoked the fires of my passion to live with peace of mind residing deep within me, a calm, clear lake of tranquility resting at my core.
I took a breath and chose to let go of fear and step into courage. I chose to let courage drive fear out, as I drove clear of the darkness.
I claimed my peace of mind and stepped out into the sunshine of the day, confident in my choice to live fearlessly in the rapture of now. I took a breath and slid effortlessly into the grace of being free to choose more of what I want of my life, letting go of what no longer serves me.
The question is: Which wolf will you feed?
I’ve made too many mistakes to ever trust my judgment again. The only reason why I married the monster to begin with is because I didn’t want to be alone. Sad thing is that those were the loneliest days of my life. Then I embarked in another relationship that was just as devastating in many ways. And, not satisfied, I followed it with another disaster. After that, I just casually saw a couple of jerks who each turned out to be worse than the one before. Finally, about 2 or 3 years ago, I called it quits altogether. I have to say that things have been better and more peaceful. I’ve pretty much been alone all my life just needed to get used to the idea that is how’s going to be. No more dreaming, no more hoping. Soon enough, my son will be gone too and then it will be me again. Always me. Just me.
TooLate:
I think it was on this thread, where you were talking about how you felt where after being rejected by your husband sexually for the last 8 years you went out and had a fling. I can so relate.
My S-ex had me on a starvation diet. Now I see the pattern — hot and heavy up front, then start withholding, then put out when there’s something you try to get from your partner…rinse…repeat.
A couple of months before the end I had taken him to my family’s villa in MYkonos. I had made it very clear that this was our last chance to get things back on track. Silly me thought — there are no distracions — no TV, no phones, just beautiful beaches, times for us to get reacquatined in person and in bed. No, it was the vacation from hell. Starting with his riping off my neighbor’s villa the day we arrived, right to the bitter end.
When we came back I knew I had to end this, but wasn’t quite there, yet. So, I went with him to his brother’s wedding. And the next night was my wakeup call. I finally saw how he was manipulating me when he had a tearful breakdown in a bar over the fact that his father had announced — supposedly the night before at this brother’s wedding – that before the week was out he was going to be disconnecting S-ex’s brain dead mother from life support. In that moment I realized that no parent would say that to a kid.
So, the following weekend when S-ex was supposedly visiting his mother, I went out to a bar. At the time I was 51. I look 41. And this adorable 25 year old came up and told me I was the most handsome man in in place.
And you know what? I took him home with me. And I had a great time. Like you, I wasn’t proud of what I had done — although Lord knows why since S-ex had cheated on me right and left. But, what I’ve come to see was that I needed to provie to ME that I was still sexually attractive. That MY sexual needs counted for something. Oh, yeah. a friend of S-ex’s was in the bar that night — so I’m sure word made it back to him. But, I no longer cared at that point.
After I ended it with S-ex I was so numb. I didn’t think I could love again. I didn’t think I could feel again. I didn’t think I ever wanted sex again. But, I gae myself some time and space and you know what? I did. I met a great guy 7 months ago. He is kind, respectful, loving — and yes, the sex — to quote Shirley Maclaine as Aurora Greenway in “Terms of Endearmen” is “FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC.”
So, stop beating yourself up. You are human. Like all humans you need human contact. And to feel attractive. And sexual. And all those other human emotions. Let it go. More to the point, I can guaranty you that your S-ex has been out there cheating on you for 8 years or longer. So, sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander as far as these subhumans are involved.
Quantum,
Time will tell. None of us have a crystal ball. All we can do is take one day at a time and create our own happiness.
I no longer dream in terms of fairytales, just it terms of realistic goals. If its my life journey to be alone – then you best believe Im going to make the best of it. Im coming to a place where I dont NEED another to be happy – but sharing with likeminded kind caring people is always welcome in my life.
Like so many of us I went through a living hell with a bad man. And I will be first to admit when I was caught in the throws of it, the confusion, the pain, the lonliness there were no words anybody could say to get me out from the place I was in. But when I was ready to listen and learn and take chances with new choices – I saw life in me and around me again.
I understand how youre feeling today. In fact if we go through the archives back a few years ago – you will see a much different person in my painful angry disappointed in life posts. It gets better. It gets worse. It gets better again. And then eventually it gets easier and our choices begin to shape our destiny.
learnthelesson:
Overall, I haven’t had a happy or an easy life. Thru it all, I’ve come to the realization that the only time when I can achieve relative control and some resemblance of peace is when I’m alone. Somehow, I think that’s the message life has been trying to send me all alone, that I need to stay alone, I have to stay alone and things will be okay (and, no! don’t ask me to define okay) but okay for me and for what the rest of my life has been like. Right now, all I want is for the monster to back off and go away so that I can finish my job with my son. If I can save one of them, at least, my life wouldn’t have been a complete waste. And still, I so fear for my daughter. If that poor child has to go thru only half of what I’ve been thru in my miserable existence, I’d never forgive myself. I know I course my parents every day of my life for having put me on this hell called Earth.
Quantum,
I have had my share of ups and downs…as a young child Ive witnessed one of my mothers many partners come out of the shower on Christmas day with his wrists slit and spent Christmas morning sharing the front seat of the ambulance ride with my sister…Ive spent a lifetime without my mother…Ive made bad choices with partners for myself – Ive been used and abused — Ive been displaced and disconnected various times of my life – and this doesnt begin to go into detail of some fairly miserable existence of my own. Yet it doesnt begin to compare to so many others here- and comparison is not what being here is about – but what I have chosen to do is find the light in my life again – and find reason to believe -in myself – for my children – for myself. Like you do for your son and hopefully for yourself. I too have been through therapy (altho I HATED it) and I too have wondered why I was born — told by my mother early in life that I was an accident. 🙂
Ive put my children through some very trying times as their mom, a severe depression and lack of valuable nurturing. Ive told them each that I am only human and have experienced making some bad choices in my life and suffered through a depression. I cant give them back the few years they lost because of my choices (and I live with that guilt everyday) but what lessens it is giving them my best every day that I can now. And going forward instead of backward when I was ready to.
You are NOT the reason your daughter is where she is in her life. You will always be there for her, near or far, but in the end she must choose to save herself before anyone can reach her. That held true for me. That is one thing we all have in common – we have the choice to save ourselves. One day at a time. One choice at a time. Its never too late at any age.
Im sorry this is hell on earth for you now. I hope and pray something gives soon enough and things turn around through your commitment and dedication to your son and YOURSELF.
Matt:
How did you cope with the loss of morals? I am not judging you, seriously, I am just curious.
When I was young, my parents divorced. My father never told me, but I always knew, that my mother was having affairs. I was very close to my dad and it hurt me to know that she did this to him and to us (her children). It was painful and it was HER fault in my eyes. I never spoke to her for 15 years. At a young age, I swore to myself that I would NEVER EVER have an affair.
I am now 43 years old. In all of my 43 years, I never EVER considered such a thing as an affair … until last year. It was the last source of pride I had in myself … that I had never had an affair.
To me, it’s not enough to say that I deserved it or that I needed it. I can’t even accept that I was driven to it. I feel as though I should have had the strength and decency to end one relationship before begining another. I cannot rationalize my affair the way my Spath husband so skillfully rationalized his misdeeds.
I had the choice, and I chose wrong.
This thing I did is my fault. The man I chose was single and had been for several years. He never once made any suggestion that he was interested in me sexually. I was the one that made the first move. I was the one without conscience. Sure, I could blame my Spath husband for the years of neglect and rejection, but I still feel that the real truth is that I let my morals go with of own free will.
I have nobody to blame but myself.
I don’t think that the affair I had defines me as a person. I see it as a mistake. A wake-up call that there IS something wrong with me and my life. Not permanently wrong, but wrong at the moment. I can choose to never have another affair again … but I have to accept the fact that I did do wrong.
I can’t undo my wrongs. I can only try to forgive myself and be MORE determined to become the person I want to be.
My father was a wonderful man and father. I love him to this day … even though he has been gone for many years. He is the most wonderful person that ever came into my life. The time that I had him in my life was far too short. I often wish I were just like him (Beard and all … LOL). He would have never had an affair … and I hate to think of being less of a person than he was.
I know that my father would have been disappointed to know that I had an affair, but I also know that he would have forgiven me very easily. He loved me unconditionally.
I feel shame. It is a feeling that doesn’t set well with me.
It would be easier to accept and forgive my misdeed if the repulsion over such action hadn’t been so firmly ingrained in me for so many years.
How do you cope and accept that you made a serious mistake? A mistake that you had been determined to avoid your entire life?
I am certain that my husband is aware of my affair. Even more than that, I am sure that he shared my email confessions of my misdeed to my children. I feel that I not only have to forgive myself, but I have to somehow explain my shame to my children. How will they ever respect me? They do not see the wrongs that my Spath husband has done, but I am certain that he has given them every detail of my misdeed.
It’s a situation over my head. I was never trained to cope with deceit and lies and confessions of misdeeds. I’m over my head.
Do you understand what I am saying? Please tell me if you can.
Kimberly
TL – I know this is addressed to matt but I hope you dont mind if I comment. This is what I am thinking:
I am sure I am not the only one who discovered that their boundaries and baseline morality were not as rock solid as maybe we imagined in our pre-spath existance.
The humilliation I feel at MY OWN behaviour has been really, really difficult to deal with.
I went from feeling like I was a thoroughly wholesome person, to feeling like I was a really bad person. The truth is that I was neither of those things wholly at any point in time.
We are human and when we see what we percieve as crappy behaviour we feel revulsion. And we should. because were good men and women.
and when we do what we percieve ourselves as a crappy thing we feel bad. And we should. It might even keep us awake at night. And it does because were good men and women.
and because you are not a sociopath you dont run out of chances to learn from your mistakes,or correct them, and you dont run out of chances to do better under the same circumstances next time.
Maybe ‘forgiveness’ isnt the right word for you as it implies that you are letting yourself off for something you feel you shouldn’t – how about ‘acceptance’ of what happened, but that it’s not something that defines who you are or how you are going to continue to live your life.
It does take work to accept yourself, warts and all. Do you think you could discuss it with a councillor? I know sometimes there are no funds for such things.
Matt: I wrote “How did you cope with the loss of morals? I am not judging you, seriously, I am just curious.”. I’m sorry … i did not word that well. It implies that I think you were morally wrong. I had no intention of letting it come out that way. Please accept my apology. I was just wondering if you had problems coping with your own view of yourself after the affair since that is what I am going through.
Blueskies: Thank you for your comment. I think it is the acceptance of myself that I am having problems with. While i was married to my Spath, I became someone I had never intended to become and acted in ways that i would not have acted if I had never met them. Their rationalizing rubs off, I think. I do have to work at accepting myself … and no, it’s not easy.
Kimberly
TooLate:
“I don’t think that the affair I had defines me as a person. I see it as a mistake. A wake-up call that there IS something wrong with me and my life. Not permanently wrong, but wrong at the moment. I can choose to never have another affair again ” but I have to accept the fact that I did do wrong.”
You are right. It was a wake-up call. And that is how I view it. Because like you, I have never cheated on a partner and vowed I never would. I have come to realize that my picking up that guy that night was being driven not only by S-ex’s lack of attention, but by all the anger, indeed fury that I had towards him that I had been cramming down.
Like you, I wasn’t happy with myself the next morning. But, I finally woke up and realized that I had my wake-up call and now I had to save myself.
None of us is perfect. We all make mistakes — although I have to say that in the case of S-ex, my biggest mistake was tolerating his abuse and lies and cheating for as long as I did. When I told a friend of mine who is Chilean about the whole mess including my one-night stand and my guilt over it, he said “Climb off the cross, darling. Somebody else needs the wood.” I think you need to do the same.
REgarding your children, I grew up in a house where my parents constantly pulled the kids into their marital messes. If your S-ex did that by sharing the emails, etc, shame on him. I would not go dragging your kids into this mess by expressing your shame or anything else. If they approach you about it, then discuss it with them AFTER you have figured out where YOU are on the whole thing. But, there is nothing to be gained by pulling your kids into this mess.
Kimberly – Just as your father would accept you as well as the err of your ways UNCONDITIONALLY — you too, can join him in accepting all things about you – with unconditional love — FOR YOURSELF.
The difference between a disordered/evil person — is they not only have no remorse or regrets over what theyve done or mistakes theyve made- but they also dont look ahead with any fear..
This is not the case for you and so many good decent people in the world who have made mistakes and WANT TO LEARN AND CHANGE AND GROW FROM THEIR MISTAKES.
Its ok to give yourself some unconditional love and accceptance. That you are human and you were in a bad place. You recognize it. Thats HUGE!!!!!! You want different for yourself now! Thats wonderful!!! You want to come to peace and acceptance with your past and find that unconditional love and acceptance that you are dealing with it, not living in denial or being deceitful about it or writing it off as just a mistake. You are owning it – and can put it behind you when you are ready.
You dont have to be so hard on yourself. Easier said then done, I know…But the journey you took full of turmoil pain and confusion is finally leading you to a good place – and to the person you want to be. That can truly only happen to the good giving caring respectful decent souls of the world. The others have no concept of that place.