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?
Hey bulletproof…
What I meant by the winner is whichever we choose…was my response to Too Late statement that she wants to believe good will win against evil.
I guess my response was a bit illusive.
What I was saying was that within me… inside…I have a choice. There was a time that I chose to get caught up in a S, nearly lose myself – by being so caught up in him, his world, his ways, his thoughts….the whys the what ifs the how comes the only ifs…etc…in my eyes in retrospect I was choosing “evil” vs “good” “healthy” within me.
Once I finally chose “good” — I made a commitment to only focus on MYSELF, MY THOUGHTS, MY PROBLEMS, MY HEALING — in doing so — I feel I literally chose good vs evil. And so therefore good WON!!!! But had I not made the choice to make the changes within me and my surroundings and continued on the path of SELF-destruction at the mercy of his doings, and shortcomings, and dysfunctional ways and bad treatment of me — then in my eyes EVIL would have won in my life.
I cant control my childrens lives/choices. or anyone elses for that matter. I can only control my life,my choices, MY MIND, my thoughts, my goals my ways. Sure I had to deal with him and definitely failed along the way in choosing to be good to myself vs. losing myself to anothers ways and wanting to make him something he can never be – but while he is not in my presence – I can choose to limit how much I let him be a part of inside my head. What needed to be fed, was my spirit and soul — as well as the child within me — to grow strong and healthy and grounded again. Hope this makes sense…I chose to feed myself goodness and starve him of anything to do with me.
Too Late –
Im running out the door – but this is my thought.
DO whats best for you. Do what you would do “not knowing whether she is checking your site or not”… if you wish to add more thoughts do so.
Try not to get caught up in what “they are doing” or “thinking” – you are not playing a game or their game. This isnt about what move is next or best. Its hard to disassociate from that because thats all weve known with them …
but truth is when you do whats right for you – and commit to it – nobody can mess with you/what you do/what you believe in.
Its true you need to stay on your toes if contact is made – but DONT GET CAUGHT UP IN THEIR WAYS….
If you werent able to see whether or not she is checking in — what would you do. And since you know she is checking in (or is it possible he has her password and is doing it himself?????) doesnt matter – write to her from your heart. No harm in leaving what youve written thus far for a bit and then adding to it when youre ready. Adding goodness – nothing negative :))) have a good day!
LTL,
Thank you for the post. I when I read it, I wanted to say “Doh! I was caught in my old thought processes again!”
You’re right, I was worrying about what SHE was thinking, not what I was thinking.
I will never give up on my daughter. I love her and I want her back. That leads me to wonder “What can I say that will truly reach beyond his influence and into her heart?” That’s really what I want to post on my DeviantArt site … something that will touch her … something that will cause her to doubt his intentions. Something that will give her that “lightbulb” moment that I had when I realised what situation I was in. I don’t know if there is ANYTHING I can say to give her that clarity. Part of me even thinks that there is nothing I can say to accomplish that … but that’s what I want.
For that reason, it would help to know what she is thinking and feeling. If I know she is indifferent or unreachable, I wouldn’t even think of writing something.
Well … when in doubt, wait it out. That’s what I’ll do.
TL
TooLate, I’m with Erin on this one. You put out a very clear message about your feelings, what you were willing to do and your boundaries. It also put the ball in her court.
Part of the problem you are facing is that she is both a child, and undoubtedly a hurt one, and a prematurely aged adult, because of the sexual abuse. You want to care for and heal the child, but the you’re also dealing with a wary, probably very angry young adult who has every reason to be jumpy and ready to flee. If she flees from him, it doesn’t mean that she’ll stay with you. Especially if she perceives emotional pressure. Her inside life is very complicated now, and there is truly no way you can understand it fully.
So I’m suggested that the best thing you can do is give her space. Let her think about it.
And while she’s thinking about it, you think about what you’re actually willing to do, if she comes back. Start writing down what the rules of the house will be, privately not on the journal. Start thinking about how it will be for your son, and how you’ll help him deal with it, if she’s acting out (which she probably will be). Start doing research on healing from incest, and what kind of resources she’ll need, and what you can actually handle, in terms of payments and driving her around.
I know how much you care about her wellbeing, but it’s crucial that you consider your own limitations and resources in thinking about this. She has already shown that she’s willing to cast blame in your direction, and it’s possible you’re going to need family therapy. A friend of mine finally got her daughter back from a sociopathic father at the same age, and fortunately the courts mandated family therapy as well as therapy for her. There have been a lot of issues, and this provided a safe place for them to talk about them, and keep her steady about what was going on. The daughter has a long healing path ahead of her.
Your daughter will take a massive step forward when she identifies herself as a victim of abuse. You’ve put that idea out there. The fact that she keeps coming back means that she is interested in the ideas you put forth, some of them or all of them.
If you want to write something, write about these things. Considering how you would handle the return of another one of your children, if she ever decided to come back. Thinking about fair and safe house rules for a teenager. Thnking about what she might need. In other words, write about yourself, about your own life.
One of the things that was so powerful about what you wrote in that poem is that it was about you. And you sounded very steady and clear. Not like you were falling apart with worry, but that you had a plan. Kids need that kind of stability from their parents. Exposing them to our worries or strong emotions, especially about them, makes them responsible for us.
You don’t have to turn into a stone. You can express concern about her, and wanting her to be well and safe. Or your frustrations about not being able to do anything to help. And of course, your normal emotions about the rest of your life. But you don’t want to make her responsible for your feelings in any way. Think about how you would treat a cat that had been living wild for a long time, if you wanted to encourage it to become a domestic cat again. Calm, helpful, putting out food and not chasing it, until it came to you.
She has to make the decision to come into your world. You can only show her that it might be a better place than where she is.
Sometimes, just standing still and letting her get used to you is the most helpful thing you can do.
Kathy
ToLate,
You asked:
“What can I say that will truly reach beyond his influence and into her heart?”
That is probably a question that doesn’t really have an answer. If she is currently seduced by the illusion of him there is likely nothing you CAN say, that will reach her.
But even if she is indifferent or unreachable (right now) it doesn’t mean that there will not come a time where the words you write today, might mean something to her at a later time.
When she is “ready” to hear them.
The only thing you can do is to speak directly from your heart.
Nothing you can say or do will give her the clarity of doubting his intentions until she sees that for herself.
And if you focus at all on him and say anything negative about him, it might backfire as well. Because she will not understand YOUR intentions then, and think that you are trying to break them up. And that might make her cling to him even more. And have the opposite effect than you would want it to have.
It probably would be best to keep your thoughts and words to her more about…..How you will always love and be there for her, if she needs you. How special she is to you, and that will never change. Keep it about you and her and your relationship. Nothing about him.
toolate aka justintime:
I feel for you wanting her home, sane and safe. It is painful to know that we can search and search and not find the right words that will reach past this influence – because we want them safe and we want to hold them close to us again.
i believe that part of the pain, a part we can work toward changing, is from not accepting that we must do what we can and let go of the outcome. We can’t force anyone to see or be.
We can, make space for them in our hearts and lives, become aware of/ develop our boundaries for health and love, start to implement them in our lives, and focus on ourselves. this makes for the best possible ‘nest’, if and when they return.
You will need to be strong if she comes back, because she will come back with a stack of issues that reach the ceiling.
Love you, first and foremeost. I know that this goes against a lot of instinct – but they say, ‘put the oxygen mask over your own face first,’ for a reason.
wishing you peace.
one step
Thank you Kathleen, witsend, and one-step.
Once again I have learned a lot from your sound advice and explanations. I wish those answers came so easily to me, but they don’t.
Today I started writing in a little binder. I am writing my goals and aspirations for the future. I am describing why I chose those goals. I am listing my capabilities. I am writing about how I intend to reach those goals and the resources I will use. I have so many goals that I think it will help me to separate them and put them in black and white. It will help me to focus on them individually instead of the mass of chaotic thoughts that are continually whirring around my head.
I need to focus.
To strengthen the bond between myself and my daughter is among my goals.
I will do that by treating her in a way that Kathleen suggested. I can really relate to the wild cat theory.
When I was in the 7th grade, I was allowed to return to my father to live. My dad had to work all day, so I spent my summers alone in the country. It was a farm, but we were not farmers. We only rented the farmstead. Well, there were 2 dogs that were wild living on the edge of the property. One was brown and one was white. They were afraid of people and hid in a drainage culvert that went under the gravel road. Nobody could get near them, but I was patient. I remember how afraid they were of me in the begining. It seemed like forever before they let me even touch them. It took time, but they finally came to me. They became my best friends. They never trusted anyone else but me and would run at the site of others. We spent days in the summer sun together. They are fond memories for certain.
Time and patience.
TL
TooLate –
The single most difficult lesson for me to learn – is patience.
I dont understand why — but in my 40’s Im finally starting to practice it!
What a beautiful childhood memory you have of the 2 dogs. Thanks for the reminders:
Trust has to be earned. Patience is a virtue because it makes us better people! Except of course when dealing with a S/N/P/. Goodbye is a godsend in that case. Good nite ..
Toolate:
See what we have in our pasts to draw from…….
What a wonderful story to remember and how it so applies to today.
LTL:
I too was 39 when I even thought about patience…..and
realized how much i DIDN”T HAVE!
I learned itwhen the kids were kidnapped…..BIGTIME!
Sorry my posts have no spaces inbetween some words…..my space bar is not working right….same with my K key.
ISH!
learnthelesson
Gotcha! yes I totally agree that focusing on you and your life, your safety, and starving him of any of that is a great thing.
What I get confused with is…. now he is gone…out of the picture and here I am with my life and recovery from the impact of falling for the lies…people say oh he is gone now, forget him don’t dwell on it blah de blah….
I CANNOT FORGET IT…it REPLAYS 24/7 and people say you are feeding it, that is why it’s still alive, or you have post traumatic stress and you better try and stop it….I no longer listen to that because I am not feeding it, it is layered a certain way in my psyche and I believe every thought about it is now is unravelling and releasing the shock and it must take time that’s all. I would rather listen to my body and acknowledge the shock, the trauma and the pain than block it out ..and to think that by focusing only on the good things and blocking out the pain could mean it turns into illness or depression etc.
I DID NOT CHOOSE A PSYCHOPATH…I CHOSE A REALLY GREAT GUY AND HE TURNED INTO DUST….WHATS REAL?