Wednesday, 2 July 2014

When I get it wrong

I want to write a post to say to other victims that it’s okay to get things wrong and it’s okay to not always feel positive.

I want to tell you you are not alone.

This blog is about my progress, it’s about healing, it’s about moving on.

But that journey isn’t a straight road. In fact it’s not even a long winding wiggly road.

It’s a road with big pitfalls you might trip over or even fall in. It’s a road with sticky patches of mud you get trapped in, feel you’ll never get out of and think you’re going to drown in. It’s a road with tangley brambles that snare you, scratch you and cause you pain. It’s a road that often goes dark and you get lost on, that loops back on itself making you feel you’re not moving towards your destination but are in fact going backwards. It’s a road you often have to sit still on for a while and catch your breath and look back how far you have come even though you can see how far you still have left to go.

I get a lot wrong. I fluctuate from listening to good advice to acting on instincts and screwing up. Some days I don’t want any contact, others I find myself firing off angry emails to him demanding answers for why he abused me (seriously just don’t do this) I have periods of calm, of happiness and joy but then suddenly I’ll wake up one morning and think “how did my marriage end up like this?” Sometimes I think about the good times, I think about the times we laughed together, I think of curling up on the sofa watching NCIS Los Angeles and laughing at how rubbish it is, I think about how I’d cook him his favourite meals, or how on a Saturday night he’d cook steak and we’d watch a movie. I think about how, when he was being tender he’d touch me or hug me. Sometimes I miss him. I really miss him. And sometimes I think about that and I regret my choices and I cry and cry and cry. Yes I sometimes miss, regret leaving and cry over a man who abused me and my children. It makes no sense, my friends and family find it really difficult, they just cannot understand it, and this makes me feel alone.

Other times I think about him screaming at my children, I think about him terrifying my son. I think about how my son would scream and run and hide in his bedroom and how sometimes he’d chase him up there and pin him to his bed. Then I get angry, I get really really angry and I lose all sense of rational thought. I send him angry emails, I lay into his friends for supporting someone like this, I tell his girlfriend what she’s getting into, I scour his facebook page and find myself turning into an angry, bitter vindictive ex: the kind of person I don’t want to be.

I feel bad sometimes that I write a blog about healing because I feel like I am not healing. I feel I am a hypocrite if I talk about focusing on the future, or placing all my hope in Jesus now, because oftentimes I am not doing those things.

But they are my goal. And sometimes I achieve them. And when I don’t; when I’ve had a rough time or have done something stupid, when I’ve wallowed in self-pity or I’ve allowed anger to control my actions I know, I always know, I have a God I can return to, who says “I will NEVER leave you or forsake you” NEVER. Even when I say “screw you God this man hurt me and I’m gonna hurt him back” or when I feel like he’s not there and I’m all alone with my grief, even in these dark dark times he doesn’t leave me. He nudges me, he finds ways to let me know he’s still there, even though I sometimes ignore that nudging, and when I stop my wallowing he’ll still be there. Like the father who puts his best robe on his prodigal son, he’ll welcome me back with open arms and re- clothe me in robes of dignity. He’ll forgive my impetuousness and my stupidity, he’ll dry my tears, and he’ll love me and remind me I’m his daughter. No matter how long I travel on this road, no matter how many detours I take, how many pitfalls I not only encounter but cause for myself, I won’t walk it alone, ever. And neither will you.

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