Earl was a bastard, there is no nice way to say it, he was controlling, abusive, cruel and so much more. He was exactly the same man I married nine years ago today. On our wedding day he was more than just rude and an obnoxious jerk to my sister and a friend, he was violent and abusive.
He was also, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, my husband and I failed him and myself.
His illnesses took him from us, from me, long before his death April 10th of 2006. Gender Dysphoria, A co-dependant, abusive relationship with his parents, diabetes, kidney failure due to high blood pressure, which was due to the stress on his heart and soul of living so profound a lie.
I've "learned" to hate him over time, to "see" how this wasn't my fault, why I shouldn't feel ashamed and a waste of life. But you see this is the crux of the problem, feelings don't always make sense. I spent the better part of my adult life controlling, or trying to, my FEELINGS to the point that it nearly took my life too! I've "learned" that I did what I must to survive, to live, to "protect and serve" my own life. To for once, nurture my own heart, mind, body and soul, allowing myself to be first for a change.
It still isn't easy. I still LOVE that man who was so bad for me, to me, that I am damaged. Well past a "Christmas cake" I'm the old woman down the lane no-one knows and no-one misses. I hurt, so much, and so deep, that I worry I'll never be able to love again. I'm damaged so badly that sleep without tranquilizers and sleeping pills is just a rumor, something other people do, and the thought of allowing anyone too close to me makes my already cold blood freeze solid with terror.
The days pass, and endless stream of tomorrows to muddy with the pain of my heart and soul. The memories however seem to go on forever. All at once I hate this man who violated me, took my heart, mind, body and soul from me and made me unclean, and yet. If he were to walk through the door right now I'd probably go back to waiting on him hand and foot, taking his violence and abuse as if it were my penance for having sinned so badly in my last life.
Today would have been nine years . . . Nine years of violence and pain I am trying so hard to escape. Nine years of betrayal and death of dreams, nine years since I gave this man my heart, mind, body, soul and innocence. I hate him, I love him, and I feel every bit like a drug or alcohol addict must.
She was born with her mother’s habit,
You could say it’s in her blood,
She hates that she’s got to have it,
As she fills her glass up,
She’d love to kill that bottle,
But all she can think about,
Is a better life, a second chance,
And everyone she’s letting down,
She throws that bottle down,
One day, I hope, I pray, I will be that woman. I will throw down the bottle of pain and memory that poisons me.
Don’t give up hope,
Some people change,
Against all odds,
Against the grain,
Love finds a way,
Some people change.
Thank God for those who make it,
Let them be the light,
I pray one day I will be one of these people, that I'll have changed enough to allow Love back into my heart and life, that I'll be able to let someone close to me, to touch me, to hold me, to love me without recoiling in fear and terror.
The days continue to march on, and I'm still here. Slowly growing, changing, healing, and praying for more miracles in my life. The memories however remain, haunt me, taunt me, threatening to tear down what is left of me.
I just cannot give up hope, it is all that sustains me some times . . . Now however I need some Chocolate and some sleep . . .
Today would have been, was nine years . . . I miss him, I miss us, I morn for what might have been, and children thankfully un-born. I morn life . . .
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