Domestic Violence, oh how trendy
You’ll never find a snake where a mouse didn’t already dwell. Maybe we should stop pointing out all the snakes and figure out when we allowed ourselves to become the mice that attract them.
I Deserve to Live
It has been too incredibly long to simply leap into things without acknowledging that I stopped writing.
I stopped writing.
There.
While this blog has been candid to a fault, so much so that it’s put me in a position in which I have had to defend myself and go on the literary lamb, I do not regret anything I’ve ever said here. What I do regret is that at one point, under the instruction of my then-husband, going in and edit/removing quite a few posts to his satisfaction in order to portray him in a more flattering light, as the other option I was given was to delete my entire blog, a place I’ve come to scream and wallow safely for so many years. For this, I sincerely apologize. I was a coward for a very long time. I feel like saying that does not absolve me of it, but it certainly does score me a point or two for the whole “admitting I have a problem” segment of whatever bullshit therapy this serves as for me. So not that I have so many eyeballs with baited breath awaiting my every post, but if you read this, and for whatever reason care, I’m sorry. I will never, ever, EVER, for any reason, dilute or whittle down any part of myself for another person in my life. I fucking swear.
What triggered Susie-Psycho to whip out the ol’ laptop, you ask? Are we manic? Are we needing to vent? No.
In fact, we are, very simply, saying goodbye to something. Officially. We are bidding a codependent fool farewell.
I found a journal today. A journal I started before I met a man who would, because I would allow him to, destroy my life. I found solid evidence of something I already knew and that was that several years ago, at 27, I lost myself entirely. Even as I blogged away, trudging through the darkness, seeming to have at least some grip on who the fuck I was, I was completely absorbed in a very brutal, sick relationship. I read every page of it. It wasn’t much because upon it’s discovery, like all of my other outlets, it was no longer mine, but his, and everything in it from that point was written to cater to and outcry in regards to his ego.I struggled all afternoon about destroying it, even though it also harbored so much insight on just how warped my reality was at the time, made sense of the madness that would swallow my family, my life, my complete sense of self, and I decided that it would only prove that I didn’t have the courage to face what I had done. I allowed another person to absorb me, because I was so desperate and pathetic that I was willing to accept whatever bullshit version of love I was able to make it in my mind. In doing so, I hurt my children. I brought a serpent into our home that struck not once, but four times. I will never forgive myself.
So what this is, is not only an apology or an admission but perhaps a bit of a plea. Please, I beg you, no matter how lost you are in your storm, know that they all end, and do not settle for anything short of what you deserve. I follow that with an affirmation that we all need to say to ourselves, whether we believe it or not, until we do, and that is “I deserve to live.”
Charming Aberration 