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?
Agree with One Step Myboys – you’ve made huge progress in a short time – great news about the lawyer – you can get through this! And already you are detaching and able to analyse the motives behind the manipulative communication – it all has an ulterior motive … usually to induce guilt, fear or trepidation in us. Don’t fall for it! Yay for you 🙂
My progress could not be without LF…I have read and read and read…to gain understanding and to take strength from all of you who have been through this too. It is such a huge help to know that I am not alone in this.
I would also be remiss if I didn’t credit my family and friends…how they have been there for me. I couldn’t ask for better.
But I can ask for a better man and the more I learn, the more I know I will not fall into the same patterns, so I will continue to read and read and read:)
Thanks everyone!!
Quantum Solace — the only reason I didn’t take my own life while in that hellish place with him was — I love my daughters. It is the only truth I clung to. And I knew, to kill myself would be to make a lie of that one truth. And I couldn’t do it.
Sometimes, we do wonder how we’ll make it through the day. And then we do. Maybe in pieces and tattered and torn. But make it we do. And then the next, we are not quite so much in pieces. And the next and the next until one day we realize, the pieces are coming together. We are feeling whole again.
Each day for me was a matter of reminding myself — what’s one thing I can do today to create more of what I want in my life? what’s one thing I can do that builds me up so that I can take another step forward.
Keep walking forward. Baby steps. Giant leaps. The size of the step doesn’t matter. That you are taking them — away from him and towards your own peace of mind, your own well-being is what counts.
Hugs.
Myboysmattermost name says it best — I too could not have stayed so focused on my healing if it hadn’t been for my daughters and my commitment to reconnecting. It was for me as well a relief to know — I was not alone — when I found my first online community of support.
Something I have learned is — no matter how much I know, I can still be ‘conned’. But, the conning is shorter lived. It’s impact not very great because I am AWARE. And with my awarness I know — no matter what someone else is doing, I am committed to doing my best for me and those I love. I am committed to living up to my highest good.
Take good care.
Hugs, Louise
M.L. and the rest of the ladies:
My problem is that I can’t move on because he has my daughter, first. It’s been 13 years since the separation and for me, it’s been like a category 5 hurricane. I can only catch my breadth when I hit the eye of the storm and then, he pulls me in again for another round. The first one (the divorce) was two years. Four years later, he was back at it for another year. He’s back for the third time and we’re at it for the 3rd month. After the second round, which I handled very well, I thought it was over and I had done it but I find myself falling to pieces all over again this time around. For me, it’s been 25 years altogether and psyche is taxed out.
I now have my son and at least I find solace in that. I can see the progress with him everyday and he gives me hope and brings me joy but I’m not there for him 100% and that tears at my heart too. If it weren’t for him right now, I wouldn’t have made it thru this last round. There are days when my chest hurts so much that I think it’s going to split in two.
Sadly, I now know that this is not the last of it. Even if and when this round is over, I’ll be back in the eye of the storm, preparing for the next round which should be in 2 years when my daughter turns 18. I’m at my witt’s end with this guy. I thought that when he got married, it would all end but the new wife seems to be every psychotic as him and now, SHE is the one putting him up to it so now I’m fighting two of them instead of one. I can’t get a break no matter what!
M.L., GREAT post! I remember the exact moment I was free, free to breathe, come out from under the covers, free to simply BE. It was a profound moment and like you, I can remember the exact time. I als identify with “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.” My realization of freedom was quickly followed by the reality of the messes he had left behind, no money or car, a house totally in chaos (he was an absolute slob) and a child I now had to help ease into the reality that his father would NEVER live with him again. I froze for awhile. Then I found LF and it’s been uphill ever since. Some days are all about nothing but cleaning up his messes and every day is about making ends meet, BUT I choose how my day will go, free of the constant verbal mental and emotional abuse.
2 days ago, he went to court for sentencing, having stolen my debit card months ago for money for drugs. I didn’t go and was advised NOT to go as he might go off in the courtroom. I will admit to fear of him showing up at my doorstep, ready for revenge, his favorite thing in the world. And then it passed. I was free.
I finally took the time to see what sentence he received. 98 days, 90 suspended. Drug classes, theft classes, drug testing, FIVE years probation. The BEST, the very BEST, however, was the last, NC WITH ME PERMANENTLY! So many on here are fighting for this and I have it! To those seeking restraining order, don’t give up! It will happen! I was told before I had this but they had to make it official in court. Will he follow it? That remains to be seen, but I have the police on speed dial on my phones now.
Quantum, I understand your feelings re: your daughter and your son. We had one child and I have permanent custody of him. I did that years ago as we never married. (There was a huge red flag waving that I actually paid attention to!) But it was still a 10 yr. relationship(?). My son gives me joy, solace and on some days a reason to get up in the morning. I, too, have watched him change since his father has been gone. He’s been through some rough times and yet, each day I see the growth in him.
Greeaaat…he married another psycho and your daughter is there? He married one of his “own kind”. I feel for you so much on this! I can’t imagine your emotions when it comes to your daughter.
I always try to remember these are but battles in a huge war and while I won’t win every battle, I WILL win the war. So will you! Hugs, Cat
Cat:
My son nearly died 4 years ago because of him. The stories I can tell you from that week in the ICU alone would make your hair stand on edge.
Yep. I always predicted that he would re-marry one of two types: (1) one just like him or (2) someone so physically battered & or down on her luck that he actually seemed like an improvement. Well, with my kind of luck, he found one like him. My son tells me that she even buys the porno for him now which he does in front of her, my daughter and her daughter.
My daughter is completely alienated from me and I fear that she too maybe suffering from the disorder. Him and the female P have told the kids that I’m in mental institutions for years at a time and that’s why she can’t see me and to call the police if I come around because I’m dangerous. My son was able to see thru that but my daughter, not so much. My two children are so different from each other. I always knew I could turn my son around (although we have a long, long road ahead of us) because he’s so docile and eager to please but my daughter is a totally different story. I’m not even sure there’s anything I can do for her at this point. She needed help since she was a baby and now, it’s been 11 years directly under his reign of madness.
I feel like I’m at the end of my rope. I can’t do this for much longer.
Quantum,
You CAN do this, even if it’s one small step at a time and sometimes the best thing you can do is give yourself pemission for a time-out. There are days when I’ve mentally put it all away in a closet and simply stayed in bed and just rested. My brain, body, heart and soul needed it. And then I felt much better and stronger the next day. It’s just something that’s worked for me.
I’m trying to imagine going through almost losing your son and at the same time putting up with him. I’ve been thu similar situations, though not as drastic and it’s hell.
Porn in front of your daughter and her daughter as well? Can this be reported? I’m concerned for your daughter as well. Telling them you were in an institution is just plain evil. I studied a new disorder(?) they are now talking about called PAS or Parent Alienation Syndrome. It’s quite interesting and might help you. There’s a link below.
http://www.paskids.com/
All of us are here for you. It’s one step, one day at a time.
Hugs,
Cat
Cat:
I’ve tried everything and nobody believes me. The police actually made a report saying that I’m bitter because I don’t have custody and was only making the report to gain leverage and blah blah blah – the fact that the cop making the report and the P dude are buddies who exhibit similar traits didn’t help much either. You see, in my case, whatever can go wrong does in fact go wrong. I tried Child Services, they labeled me “a bi-polar (their word not mine) who makes up stories to stir up trouble.” No matter what I do, they turn it against me. The judge in the case has also labeled me as a liar, unreliable and reckless, even threaten to take away from me the children’s college funds for which I had to fight him in court for a year the last time (after he stole not only the marital finances but the other accounts set up for the children). Ha ha!
Researching PAS is, as a matter of fact, what clued me in to Narcissism/Psycho/Sociopathy (I only stumbled upon it about a month or so ago, after 25 years of hitting my head against the wall not understanding). So, yes, I’m familiar with it and have consulted with a lawyer who says that I have a great case against him and her but…(always a but!), he wants $400 an hour to make a go of it. Again, ha ha ha! Nothing like paying someone in an hour what you make in a week.
And, oh, yes, the judge is accusing me also of alienating my son against him but doesn’t think anything of what they are doing to with daughter. My son, after seeing not only what he has done to him but also to me aftering living with me for several months now, has decided of his own accord to sever contact. The wife treats my son rather poorly (she is very abusive) and even kicked him out during the summer which is how he ended up with me.
It’s a long, twisted, tortured saga that never ends – not for me and not for the children either. I can’t do anything to move forward until I get out of this mess with the litigation which is looking worse and worse for me. I can’t even find a lawyer to take the case. The last one I spoke to charged me $125 for telling me that I “should have had a lawyer during the divorce.” Again, ha ha ha! How easy it is for those who haven’t been in that position to issue such advice so freely and easily. I told him to call me when he has been in my situation and we would reassess his advice.
ML – I too only survived due to the love I have for my two children.
I started to write more, so much more, but it has all been said.
I cannot tell you Donna, Dr. Leedom, Steve B, Elizabeth C, MLG, Kathleen Hawk, Oxy, ErinBrock and so many others who write or post here what a blessed relief it is to know there are people who get it and I am not insane. For so so long I thought it was me, I was crazy, there was something wrong with me…
I still remember the first time I laughed – really laughed and was having fun – I was away from the biggest monster, the one who brought me to my knees… I escaped my own home where I felt under seige and went on a trip to see a girlfriend and laughed and had fun and life was good again. It was a shock when I realized how long it had been since I had truly laughed – the taste of that and wanting more – the memory of that – helps me to make choices today…
I cannot tell you what a blessed relief it is to know there are people who get it and I am not insane. I am finding me – digging me out from under the nonsense. YAY for me and YAY for all of you.
Dear Louise,
Thanks so much for this article . It is one which I can relate to, and trying to find PEACE in the face of possible physical stalking and/or death is a difficult thing to do. It is easy to give in to our terror. Sometimes we let it go for a second or a day, or longer. I can’t recall the date or hour in which I decided to no longer live in TERROR, but to exercise CAUTION instead.
Maybe there are days I stay in the house because there is a possibility there might be someone to hurt me outside, but it is CAUTION not TERROR.
This past week I sort of DID give in to the terror for a few minutes when I realized that my best friend’s sister was in e mail contact with my egg donor, and if she slipped just once and let the egg donor know I was here in Texas, he knows my friend’s address, and I know that the egg donor would “mention” to my P-son that I was visiting here. It took a little while to get my peace back, but I have it back now, and I am still CAUTIOUS, but no longer in FEAR or TERROR.
I will protect myself with good decisions about that–whether it means staying in the house, or keeping my pistol by my side–but I won’t jump at every noise, I won’t let myself be filled with TERROR. The worst thing he can do to me is to kill me, and actually I faced CERTAIN death in an automobile crash once, I saw it coming, faced it, and realized in only an instant that death is NOT the worst thing that can happen to you. I don’t want to die, I want to stay here for now, but living in terror is much worse than death I think, I know for me it is.
Your story about the two wolves is one of my favorite stories and is so true. The one we feed is the one that prospers, grows and “wins.”
Can’t remember who said it but “the coward dies a thousand deaths, the brave man but one” is also a very meaningful statement to me as well. being “brave” doesn’t mean being unafraid, but if we are continually afraid, stressed out, shaking, living in TERROR we “die” each day because our life is taken from us. We must choose each day, each minute, what we feel and embrace.
Thanks again for your article. Love Oxy