Get up from there, on your feet!
Whatever do you mean by control?
Oh, you mean self-control.
This morning on Anderson Cooper's new daytime talk show....
While watching with a client as I clobbered dust bunnies and window smudges...
They spoke of exactly the kind of marriage that leads abused folks to murder.
I did not think so much of my own hellish marriage, as I finally had the good sense and courage to leave and have mostly recovered from whatever battle wounds were inflicted, but she, my sweet, sweet Granny. She, after 50 years of marriage has not yet discovered the joy, beauty, and freedom of what it means to not be bullied on a daily basis.
Last week, when he raised his fist at her in front of me, in front of my children... I had visions of horror coursing through my mind... and I wonder if she's ever had them too. I wonder if it will eventually lead to that devastating phone call "He's finally done it, she's dead." Or if she will ever stand up for herself, and make it out of there. I know she wants out, but I think she still has faith in his capacity to change. We have Christianity to thank for that sort of endearing commitment.
How can I blame her for not standing up when I didn't either. I just ran away.
I just ran away like the frightful, cowardly little girl I was two decades ago. Like I did from my husband. Like I always do.
So after two weeks of extraordinary bliss, light, wakefulness, and productivity I have again fallen. I have not let him take from me that joy, but I stole it from myself when I refused to fight. So then what do you mean by control? I have as much control in this as I ever did. Happiness is still lingering someplace near the superficial shores of my existence, but I'm deep sea diving into unknown waters. Unexamined territory. Always a new discovery, always a struggle to get there and return alive.
She will never leave him. This will not go away.
So into and out of and around myself I go,
to find the strength and courage to finally tell this terrorist "NO!"