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?
Bulletproof –
People sometimes dont understand unless theyve experienced it firsthand.
I agree with you that you need to go thru the stages and phases of recovering and healing from a toxic relationship. Be sure to monitor if its affecting your ability to function from day to day – long term. Once in a while we all need to take a day off and regroup. But I let it affect my ability to function – thats when friends and family really can be life-savers. My gf actually said to me is this the way I want her to remember me… disheveled, in my room all the time, curtains drawn and giving up on life?? She said that she was willing to be there and listen to me talk about him and all that I went through with him and ruminating- over and over again but at some point I had to be there for myself. Slowly but surely the pieces of my puzzle started to come together. I got to the phase/stage of focusing on me.
At some point, once I went through all the raw emotions and pain and anger and blame I said Wait a minute here….I chose a really great guy who turned out to be a jerk and a cheater and liar and manipulator. So why did I choose to stay AFTER it became clear to me that I was being mistreated and taken advantage of?? Or worse why did I still want him around?? I focused on me and found my answer and I changed that part of ME. For me personally that part of our toxic relationship had to do with ME – not him
I chose a really great guy who turned into dust. THAT IS REAL. THAT IS THE TRUTH. But whats also real is Im damn lucky hes no longer around. He was toxic to me.
Listen to your body acknowledge the shock the hurt and pain and go easy on yourself. There was both good and bad in my toxic relationship. What I had to do was address both – come to terms with both – put them in a place of peace /understanding and think more about me and my life and the changes I wanted to make in how I choose a guy – and stick to my boundaries and earning trust — as well as treating myself with love and kindness as I went through the healing process.
Youre right in that its unhealthy to block out the pain — and its healthy to work through it and ask questions !!! ( to yourself, here at LF, with your closest friends, through reading books,etc) And heres the hard part – listen to your honest open answers! And take others into consideration too. It helped me a lot.
Dear bulletproof, your so right, its really like the layers of an onion, except that each “skin” we peel off causes more pain to emerge, and we haveto walk thru that pain and process it, before our unconscious mind will allow us to go to a deeper layer, or skin. If we tried to heal all at once, I think wed go stir crazy.Eventually I suppose we reach the core or centre of the “onion”, and maybe by that time we will have dealt with and processed the worst of it. But only if we STAY No Contact. The reason is that{and I found this to my cost!} each time we re-contact the spath,even by looking at their facebook page, for example, we pick off the scabs that are still trying to heal over, and we bleed all over again, our blood pressure may go up, our adrenaline pumps harder, we stress out, we feel sick, guilty, ashamed, fearful, all over again.It IS unhealthy to ty to block the pain, its like a pressure cooker, sooner or later we will blow our stack!!Love, and {{HUGS}}Gem.XXBy the way , dont be too hard on yourself, the process takes as long as it takes, and I think our subconscious is aware of this.
Dear Bulletproof,
I find to that my own SHAME about how I LET myself be duped by TRIVALIZING the bad behavior of others toward me—over and over and over again—allowed them to continue to abuse me. Facing that SHAME and guilt about my own involvement in poor choices is a hard hurdle for me to get over and STAY over.
I also realize that just because I “diagnosed” and “dealt with” “bad situation/person A” doesn’t mean I will deal well with “bad situation/person B”—one of the things I learned in training animals is that you can “habituate” them to all kinds of things they do not like, like being put in harness and making them pull a load, they get USED TO IT. And if you put on one kind of harness and get them used to having it on them and pulling a load, you can put a totally DIFFERENT kind of harness on them and get them to pull or work differently. They GENERALIZE from one type of thing to the next kind and accept it as “okay.” So, I see that even if I throw off one kind of “harness” I may not even realize that I am ACCEPTING another kind of “harness” from another situation or person.
A friend of mine attempted to train some Mexican wild steers to work as oxen, and these animals were genetically “flighty” and “anxioius” because the “calm” ones that didn’t run at the first strange sound were weeded out of the gene pool over many many genrations of predators in the wild. He started with them about about 6 months of age and they were as wild as “DEER.” He would put the yoke on them each morning and let them drag a chain and they would do all kinds of “crazy” things to try to escape from his corral. They would fling themselves into the fence trying to jump out. Any sound from the highway of a car passing would send them into terror.
After months of just letting them walk around in the yoke and drag a chain, he started hooking up a plastic bucket with a few rocks in it, and they went bonzo again, and then they got used to THAT bucket, but if he hooked up a metal bucket with a different sound, they went BONZO again as they did not easily GENERALIZE their harness or thing they were pulling as being “okay”—he eventually got them trained and where they were calm enough to take out in public without any big risk of them going bonzo from a new sound, but it took a couple of years of every day and patient training to accomplish this. Even still, they would not work for anyone except him (and most oxen will work for ANY person as they know that any PERSON is alpha to Oxen, but these steers were only beta to that ONE person so would “try out” any new person to see if that person was alpha or not.) Of course when a large ox wants to “test” you out, you lose. The purpose of the early habituation (training) is so that they will NEVER even get the idea to “test” their drovers, ANY drover, any person. Once they are subservient to people, habituated to various noises and stimuli, nothing you do can make them “revolt” or try to break out of harness or refuse to do your bidding.
I think sometimes we are habituated to abuse just as the oxen is habituated to be subservient and not rebel, so even though the people who “work” us put new things on us, or even different people do abusive things, we are like the patient oxen and don’t even try to rebel, no matter how much pain or abuse we are loaded down with.
While I never “abused” my oxen, because I started with them as 2-3 day old calves who looked to me as their “alpha” and source of all good things, as I put heavier and heavier loads of them (never overloading them with loads too heavy for them to pull) I have seen people who would over load an ox or a horse/mule and then beat them because as hard as they tried, they could not pull it. This results in the animals just “hunkering down” and accepting their beating as their just deserts, not knowing they CAN rebel.
I see so much of this in myself too, I was habituated to being subservient to the “family role” I was assigned as a child. My early training over came my desire to rebel against the pain of being “over loaded” and then beaten/punished because I could not pull the load—any time I tried to rebel, the punishment got worse, and I eventually gave in and gave in and gave in. I am sure that even today my egg donor thinks that I will “give in” and put myself back into the yoke for her, which I will never do for HER again, but I am also having to learn and RE-learn that I don’t have to get into the yoke for ANYONE. I can pull my OWN wagon, and others can and should pull theirs.
Oxdrover – I relate to a lot of what you are saying here… but that you are feeling; quote: “SHAME”. pisses me off. You Rock. You have insight and understanding through real life experiences that most dont. You have helped so many people just by expressing yourself honestly. I hope you dont let any new awareness of yourself set you back. xx
I love this: ‘I can pull my OWN wagon, and others can and should pull theirs’.x
Dear Blue, Thank you sweetie. The feelings of “shame” or anything else don’t have to be related to REALITY. We can FEEL an emotion when there is no “justification” of that feeling in reality.
I saw an interesting cable TV show when I was at my friend’s house about the brother of the Unibomber. He turned in his brother to the law and felt ASHAMED of doing that. He also felt ASHAMED that his “family” had harmed the victims and he personally went to each victim or victim’s family and APOLOGIZED for the pain “his family” had done to them.
The bomber, on the other hand is MAD at his brother for “ratting him out” and refuses to “reconcile” with his brother.
Many of us ASSUME the SHAME of our loved one’s behavior, and it is a FEELING that we have to work through. I even feel ASHAMED of FEELING ASHAMED if that makes any sense.
Obviously, the bomber’s brother is assuming the SHAME for his “family” and has been programmed from youth somewhat as I have been I think, that FAMILY “honor” is something to be protected. It isn’t just the individual person who should feel shame for himself, but shame should be felt for the bad acts of ANY family member. I know that is not true, now, but still I FEEL ashamed of my P son, ashamed of what he did. I don’t accept BLAME for it, but the SHAME of it still rears its ugly head in my FEELINGS. If that makes any sense at all.
Yes, we CAN to some extent take control of our FEELINGS and compare them to REALITY and so on, but it is a CONSTANT fight to do so for me. I work against it each day, FEELINGS VS REALITY.
The “road to healing” is a bumpy one, Blue, and sometimes we think we are sailing along and everything is lovely and out of “no where” some FEELING will rear its ugly head, or we will get a NEW INSIGHT into something or someone and feelings will run STRONG, and we have to work through this.
I got triggered by the upcoming parole hearing, hiring an attorney, going through all the letters my P son wrote to the Trojan Horse, listening to the taped conversations where they were plotting against me, reading the letters where they were plotting how to manipulate me, etc. Then, right smack dab in the middle of this son C pulls some crap and gets caught LYING TO ME and I just “lost it” for about a month, but I did try to take care of ME and I went to spend several weeks with my best friend, and just being there with her, watching TV, trolling through junk shops and antique stores, walking out on her ranch in west Texas, etc. and just being in a different setting where I could BE ME…she knows the REAL me and likes me ANYWAY! LOL We’ve been best friends for nearly 30 years even though we only lived close to each other for a couple of years. She knows both my kids since teen years, knew my husband, was here when he died, knew and loved my step dad and now knows what my egg donor has been all about and accepts it, rather than trying to get me to “let’s all play nice and pretend it didn’t happen” with my egg donor. She knows me, and the situation, inside out. She’s been there for me in the roughest of times and the best of times. Our “best friend” bond runs very very deep! I know that I can go there and stay as long as I need to stay whenever I need to—-and vice versa. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for that woman. As long as I have a biscuit, she has half of it if she needs it.
The time I spent down there let me ruminate about the upset with son C and to SEE that there is a PATTERN, not only to his behavior, but to mine as well. I can’t change the patterns to his behavior (and poor choices) but I CAN and MUST change my own pattern of POOR CHOICES, where he is concerned. Unfortunately, I held on to fantasy views about our relationship that were NOT VALID. While I convinced myself I was setting boundaries with him, in fact, I was ENABLING him, and accepting that about MYSELF was more difficult than accepting that he LIED TO ME over something so TRIVIAL, then became angry with me when I confronted him about his lie….and refused to “man up” about it. He isn’t a psychopath, but he sure is not the man I had fantasized he was, the son that warmed my heart with his repentence and his validation that I had been right about his P brother and his grandmother’s enabling….it is just more of the same pattern of him making bad choices and hitting bottom of the hole and me pulling him out, and as soon as he gets out of the hole, he skips off into the sunset claiming I pushed him into the hole in the first place and had nothing to do with him getting out of it.
I’m a sucker for a “convincing” apology from family especially because I WANT to believe it is sincere, and I’ve fallen and fallen for his “apologies” over and over after he has devalued me time and time again in favor of either his grandmother or his P brother, or his P-X-wife or the Trojan Horse Psychopath who was screwing his wife in such a blatant way that even the neighbors knew it was going on as did his brother D and I.
Every time he has “turned against” me in favor of a P, it has bitten him in the butt BIG TIME, but he has NOT learned, he is the perfect DUPE because for some reason or the other, he has some sort of “need” to devalue me except when he NEEDS me, then I am his “hero” then I am “the world’s best mom” and so on.
My late husband used to say to me “I need you because I love you, not love you because I need you.” I’m not sure where he heard or read that, but it is the way love should be. Unfortunately, my son C seems to love because he needs me and if he doesn’t need me, the love and respect isn’t there.
I’ve been CONNED again, and damn it, it makes me want to bash myself in the skull with the BIG CAST IRON SKILLET until like MaryJo B., I GET IT THROUGH MY THICK SKULL!
I’ve written “wise” articles here telling others how to fix their own lives and hearts, and I can’t get my own chit together. Now how hypocritical is THAT!
ps. I feel like the 25 year AA guy who went out and tied one On!
‘The “road to healing” is a bumpy one, Blue, and sometimes we think we are sailing along and everything is lovely and out of “no where” some FEELING will rear its ugly head, or we will get a NEW INSIGHT into something or someone and feelings will run STRONG, and we have to work through this.’
true,true, true!xxx
I recently realized I had gotten myself into yet another situation that was not good for me and had spent far too long pussy footing about – because thats what I DO. with a P/N/S or just plain old anyone. Like you I guess, I know it is my bad, and that it REALY has to stop. I have to stop painting on pretty pictures! I also have to ‘step away from the family’ because it isnt one. It never was. I can’t fix it. let it go.
I wish i had better words to say – I want to say things like: you know you’ll get though all this horrible chit right?, that this is a learning opportunity,that you shouldnt beat yourself up, that your self awareness is a gift but I think that I should shaddap and just send you big loves:)xxx
I am so glad you have a friend like this; I have such a friend, we’ve been friends since we were seven and I can completely relate to the feeling of ‘being allowed to be me and still liked’ when I am around her… and shouldn’t I always be ‘me’…. food for thought.
Dear Blue,
Yea, I WILL get through this chit, and yea, I will pull myself out of the holes I stumble into. Over all, I am VERY blessed, and I know this….look at all the problems in the world, how many people don’t even have clean water to drink, or a roof over their heads and all the other terrible problems in the world. I watched the news tonight and someone in NY was talking about the steps they were taking to keep homeless people from freezing to death at night in the winter.
One of my son’s scout leader friends just got back from a trip up to Canadian border where they slept out in -20 degree weather—in special sleeping bags etc. but try doing it in 32 degree weather without a blanket—so I need to spend more time counting my blessings and less time throwing a pity party for myself. I think I will go crawl into my nice Temprapedic bed with my thick, fluffy warm comforter and my 16 pound mobile foot warmer. A little funny. While I was gone I couldn’t take “Bud” with me and he sleeps at my feet under the covers, so I had to have my son sleep in my bed (and I had to show him how to “fix” Bud’s place) so Bud could wake him up in the morning to go pee—my son cracked me up telling how Bud kept adjusting position during the night and keeping him awake! LOL He said, though, that if I ever go away again for so long I have to take the dog WITH ME! LOL
I did bring everyone a gift back home though, a cute cat toy for the cat, a “vintage” Boy Scout book for D, and a toy for Bud!
Glad you also have a close friend who “likes you in spite of yourself!” LOL That is a wonderful gift from the universe! (((hugs))) That kind of friendship makes life worth living!
We lost our little hot water bottle at Christmas:( BUT she had a fair innings – she was a 16 year old rescue moggie:)x My son would have to sleep really still because any movement would set her off purring as loud as she could and trying to kiss kiss him and doing that kitten pummeling with the paws thing, but to not let her in would mean her shoulder barging the door and making unearthly yowls all night!xxx I hope you are having a good sleep and that tomorrow is brighter for you Oxy. (((hugs back)))x
Oxy, you are an inspiration to me. I have learned A LOT from your “wise” writings, and they are wise. You DO have your chit together, it’s just some of the people around you who DON’T. But when it comes to our hearts, wow, that is just totally another story, isn’t it, especially with the posts I read about parents who have gone NC with their children, it makes my heart ache. My heart aches for my own daughter just because she lives so far away. Sometimes it’s hard just to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but we seem to do it. God said we are supposed to live an abundant and joyful life thru Christ, but I seem to be missing out on this. I need the joy, what am I doing wrong… besides just rambling on and on here like a nut case as usual????