The Cycle of Abuse

Rage. Blame. Accusations. Controlling. Bullying.

Confusion, panic, guilt.  Pain.

Punishment.

Resentment. More pain. Finding ways to cope until it's over.

The Apology.

Immense relief that he is back to his old self, and all is right with the world again.

Fear. Guilt. "I'm sorry, I love you, I don't want to hurt you."

Love.
Love?

April 8th, 2012

Easter Sunday.

It is almost a year to the day that “J” and I broke up. I can remember sitting on my patio last Easter and realizing the promise that my life still held. Despite the devastation I felt from that break up I looked out into my yard, across the horizon at the lush green trees, felt the breeze at dusk, and I knew things would be ok.

I’ve been to hell and back this past 2 years; the first one being an emotionally numbing blur, only finding strength in my late night walks at the track and budding friendships; the second year being one grueling, heartbreaking test after another it seemed. But somehow I made it through to the other side. Well not somehow, with God, with friends, with therapy, with hope. And the journey to the “other side”-- life after an 11yr emotionally abusive, painful marriage-- can be scary but exciting all at once. And now, here I sit a year later, and I feel the same promise that I felt a year ago. …. I just looked out into the same horizon, from the same spot on my porch, and things are ok. I whisper thanks to God for bringing me to this place.

Easter Can Be Full of Promise

I’m sitting here on my porch at the end of Easter Sunday thinking about how I just made it through another holiday post separation/divorce; and this particular holiday comes two weeks after a heartbreaking end to another relationship.

I feel the evening breeze on my skin and through my hair. I watch the leaves and tree branches dance in the wind; dusk is setting in. I see my cat running across the pasture to come home, I watch the guard light flicker on, and somewhere in the distance I hear a car on the highway.

A million thoughts run through my mind...him, how I miss what we had, how he ultimately betrayed me because of feelings for an old love, and now the acceptance that it wasn’t meant to be. I think of my future, and I feel so unsure. I say prayers of thankfulness that I yet again overcame one more of life’s hardships; thankful for friends; and finally… thankful for feeling hope and promise that great things can come.

I Really Don't Know

Everyone says you have to love yourself before you can be in a meaningful, healthy relationship. Ok, got it. But how do you do this? People keep saying “you gotta love yourself first Jenn”, but they don’t follow it up with instructions or examples. I mean that may sound weird, but really how do you go about loving yourself? I like myself. I think I’m a great girl with good qualities, a lot to offer in a relationship. But the cold truth is that I will put up with the dumbest shit from men, and suffer for fear that I won’t find any better. And apparently that’s the big neon sign everyone keeps trying to point me to that says “you don’t love yourself enough”.

Jenn’s dating history 101: Only one “almost boyfriend” when I was 17 followed by a few guys that I just “talked” to. No one stuck around, no one respected me. My future ex-husband came along when I was 19, and was the first “good” guy so we got married. My therapist refers to the relationship as emotionally abusive. What I didn’t understand during my marriage was that emotional abuse and verbal abuse are two different things… which I’m embarrassed to admit now that I didn’t know, and certainly didn’t recognize in my own marriage. I just knew that I felt 20 kinds of crazy after most of my conversations with him, and that everything was always my fault; even when it was logically impossible. Following separation I entered another relationship that lasted only months, and even though it all seemed very different, I was ultimately shit on.

So all of that brings me back to the present. Here I am, almost 32 years old, two beautiful children, a career, a good sense of humor, and a loving family. Yet I feel empty. I think if I were really this prize package that people try to get me to see then the men would be lining up, right?? I mean that’s what makes sense to me. But there aren’t any men; there never really have been. So to me it’s like the proof is in the pudding. No men = I’m not a prize to be won. Shit…then again maybe that’s the girl who doesn’t love herself talking. How do you separate wanting to share your life with a man, and not wrapping your self-worth around finding one?

Diary of a Depressed Woman

More collections from my "memos" app on my phone:

4/15 @ 11:52pm: I think the worst sadness is when you can't manage to shed a single tear.  And the pain just sits heavy in your heart. With no release.

4/16 @ 6:39pm: I stare monotonously at the TV.  Not really watching, but trying to focus.  Hard to watch anyone else have any emotions at all when happiness was ripped from my fingers.

4/18@ 5:34pm: Gaining a new perspective seems to be the only way out.

4/21 @ 2pm:  Sometimes I feel really lost.

The Aftermath

I see everyone around me and I smile, and nod, and speak when spoken to.  I can do my job with my eyes closed.  I sit at this desk, and I stare at my computer.  I see the news and hear of natural disasters, I hear about other’s tragedies, and somewhere in the back of my mind I think “see? My life could be much worse”.  And then I silently thank God for my blessings, especially the well being of my children.  The clock rolls around to 5:00, I make the drive home, saying silent prayers to keep me strong, and help me move on from what I thought was total happiness.  I get my children; I somehow manage to busy myself with house cleaning while they play.  Then we go through the evening routine of dinner, showers, teeth brushing, and bedtime.  By 8:00 I’m longing for my bed, the comfort of my dark cool room, under the covers, just me.  I cry into my pillow, I vow not to listen to country music too much right now, as used to be part of my bedtime routine, I say prayers, and wait for my sleep aid or anti anxiety medication to kick in.  I feel the drowsiness and calmness overtake me, and I have no worries, my mind is free and clear for those few moments, and my heart doesn’t hurt for those few moments of the day.  I wake up in the morning and start it all over.  I get up.  I breathe.  I walk. I do what I’m supposed to do.  With a dull ache in my heart and a gnawing in the pit of my stomach….knowing that love and happiness slipped out of my life not once, but twice.