Am I a hypocrite?

Is it wrong for me to not feel ready to just "forgive and forget?" I teach my children that they should forgive others. I go to church and sing in the choir about God's redeeming love. It's not that I can't or won't forgive my DH for all that he's put us through. I guess on some level I already HAVE forgiven him, in that I don't harbor bitterness or feel the need for revenge. I don't hate HIM as a person ... I just can't forgive what he has DONE.

Besides, I think to myself, isn't REPENTENCE a necessary component of forgiveness? If he were to come to me and say: "I know I've hurt you deeply, for so many years, and in so many ways. I've made up my mind that I will never hurt another human being like that for as long as I live. I know I don't deserve it, but could you find it in your heart to forgive me?" then maybe I would FEEL more "forgiving" towards him.

BUT HE HASN'T! To the contrary, he continues to proclaim his "innocence." Not only so, but he adds insult to injury by blaming ME for the "issues" that our children are having, by telling my friends that I'm "crazy" (although fortunately they know me well enough to see right through his lies & don't believe him), and by CONTINUING to abuse me through his manipulation of the legal system. WHY SHOULD I FORGIVE HIM?

Is it WRONG for me to feel this way? Am I a hypocrite for harboring such hatred for the things this man has said and done? I don't know. I don't have the answers. They say time heals all wounds ... I don't know if that's true. If it is, in my case, it's going to take a lot MORE TIME ... because I'm just not ready to let him off the hook yet -- not when he isn't even willing to face the reality of what he's said and done.

New Artwork - Weeping Willow

I'm sure everybody has heard this phrase at least once or twice in their lives . . . find a "happy place" . . . whether it's in a movie, or from a therapist, or what have you.

Personally, I have always visualized a tree that I used to love to climb in as a child. It was a weeping willow tree down by the creek. It was always so peaceful . . . and somehow I knew that nothing could bother me there. The gentle breeze, the fresh air, the sound of the birds singing . . . yeah . . . that's where I want to be about now!

A Piece of Work (Acrostic Sonnet)

You bait and switch and try to make believe
Our past is somehow still controlling me.
Until it's clear what you did made me leave, 

All of your childish games fool nobody. 
Run off to court, tell all the lies you want.
Each time you speak, it's clearer you're insane.  

Are you so sick you BUY the crap you flaunt? 

Perchance the tons of beer have fried your brain.
I will not stop protecting my kids now.
Each time you hurt them, you are hurting me.
Consider yourself lucky that somehow
Eternal Father still has yet to see. 

Or has He seen and chosen not to act?
For if that's true, than justice is a myth.  

What you have done will haunt you, that's a fact.
One day your sins are something He'll deal with.
Remember I am stronger than you think.
Keep lying to the world; go have a drink.

New Artwork - Comfort

My therapist told me last week that I need to imagine what it would have been like if someone would have comforted me after the abuse, to imagine what "comfort" would look like to me. I told her I wasn't really sure, but that I'd always imagined how nice it would have been to be wrapped up in my mother's arms and cry on her shoulder, to have her say "it's okay, it's not your fault," etc. So this picture/project is very different from most that I've done recently in that it is more positive and potentially inspirational.

What I would say to survivors of abuse is this -- maybe there wasn't anybody there to rescue you way back when. Maybe you were afraid to tell anyone. Maybe you DID tell someone, but weren't believed. Whatever the case may be, it's NEVER to late to be comforted . . . even if you have to do the comforting YOURSELF.


In my case, I'm simply trying to learn to nurture that part of me, my "inner child," so to speak . . . to hold her and reassure her that everything's okay now, that she's special, she's safe, and she's LOVED.

Not Alone (Sonnet)

Black hole of nothingness down deep inside;
Tough questions without answers plague my mind.
But all the same, I smile and try to hide
The pain I don't want anyone to find.
I'm really not sure what it is I fear
Might happen if I open up and share.
I guess I'm worried no one wants to hear,
Or worst of all, they wouldn't even care.
My only solace, Jesus walks with me.
He wipes my tears, and lately there've been lots.
He simply holds me close, and lets me be.
He doesn't mind my wayward, rambling thoughts.
Though none on earth could fully understand,
I'm not alone, for Jesus holds my hand.

Me as a Milk Cow

This is me about 5 years ago.  My husband would stand and moo at me and tell me what a good milk cow I was.  He made me milk out breast milk to put in his coffee every morning.  My children would be in the room at the time.  What saddens me the most is that it didn't seem to phase them a bit.  I guess they thought it was "normal" or something?  I never realized how sick he was until I got out of the relationship.  Over the years, he just wore me down, told me I was crazy, that I was imagining things, that he "owned me" and that as a "good wife" I was to "submit and obey." 

Truthfully, I think it would have hurt less if he would have hit me as opposed to the constant mind f*cks (no other nice way to put it).  He would hide my keys so I couldn't get somewhere on time, and then at the last second, after I'd been looking frantically, they would suddenly "appear" in plain sight somewhere I'd already looked before and he'd just laugh and say, "You're so f*cking blind and stupid. You probably walked past them a thousand times and just didn't seem them.  You'd lose your own head if it wasn't attached.  You are so stupid!"

I really wish I could feel some anger towards him -- I think it would be healthy.  But right now, all I feel is the incredible hurt and betrayal.  And I don't understand how I even survived with my sanity intact (for the most part). 

Some more of my art (random)

Some more of my art (dungeon)

Some more of my "art" (Dancers)

Some more of my "art" (Caged)

Some of my recent "art"

This one is I guess how I felt being pinned down my my husband and f*cked up the

a$$ whenever he wanted and how I would just feel my soul shriveling up into nothing

and sort of float away into Never Never Land.

I guess you could call this kind of a "self portrait" of sorts . . .

I settled (Sonnet)

I'm an example of what not to do,
A living portrait of who not to be.
Whatever you do, for your whole life through,
It's best if you never emulate me.
I let all the wrong people gain my trust,
I let others dictate who I'd become.
I gave up my dreams, let my talents rust,
And wasted time trying to please ev'ryone,
Til I was a shadow without any voice,
And numbness was my only true feeling.
I settled for living without a choice,
Til my soul died and I was left reeling.
If you have the chance to live and fly free,
Let go of all your doubts and simple BE!

This too shall pass (Sonnet)

Just hold it all in for a little more
This too shall pass, it always does.
What doesn't kill me makes me strong, I'm sure.
I'm not the frightened shadow I once was.
I know the answers lie somewhere within,
If only I knew where to look for them.
I simply don't know where I should begin,
Do I start with today, or way back when?
I'm holding on for dear life, won't let go
Of all that I've accomplished up til now.
I simply wish there was a way to know,
A guide book that could tell me what and how.
As fascinating as my mind can be
I wish it wasn't such a mystery.

A Dark Abyss (Sonnet)

Hanging, banging pipes lead farther down below.
Musty odors, mildew stains, a dark abyss.
I'm duty bound to work, and this I know
That I must manage, fight my way through this.
Eyes straight ahead, I struggle not to see
The shadows lurking 'round me on each side.
Why is it this has so affected me,
And dredged up all this pain I tried to hide?
Is it the sight, the sound, or just the smell
That takes me back; oh why can't I forget?
Why does my body transport me to hell
So vividly I somehow feel it yet?
I try my best to stash this back away
So I can make it safely through this day.

Keep Your Excuses (Acrostic Sonnet)

You said that I provoked all that you did,
Or blamed your drinking, called it a "disease."
Under your spell, I did what I was bid;

A stupid slave, I served you on my knees.
Recalling how you hurt me makes me ill.
Each mem'ry makes me want to vomit more.

Just thinking of it makes me shudder still,
Unleashes something I'm not ready for.
Some days I think I've fin'lly broken free,
Then once again your face or voice breaks through.

Subjected to your torment endlessly,
It may take years to heal from "loving" you.
Coercion is the same as brutal force.
Keep your excuses; I'll take my divorce.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie (Acrostic Sonnet)

Let's just pretend you never heard it said.
Except for knowing, talk won't change a thing;
There is no point in digging up the dead,
So just ignore the feelings it might bring.
Let's just imagine I don't care at all.
Expect life to go on just as it should.
Energy's wasted tearing down that wall,
Perhaps if I were stronger, then I could
Investigate the agony I feel,
No doubt I'd understand a little more.
God knows the guilt and sorrow are still real,
Despite how deep I've buried them before.
On top of all I'm dealing with right now,
Great pain may simply push me to the edge.
So maybe it is best if I somehow
Leave it alone, and climb down from this ledge.
It's not that I'm avoiding this -- not true ...
Except the fear of what pain's made me do.

What is me? (Sonnet)

What are these shackles wrapped around my soul
So tightly that I cannot draw a breath?
This struggle deep within to keep control;
It wears me down til I have nothing left.
Try as I might, I cannot seem to find
The words to fit the feelings that abide
Within the cloudy regions of my mind.
What if there's nothing left of me inside?
Am I composed of places that I've been,
Or am I made of things that have been done?
What if I find in going back again,
A maze I can't explain to anyone?
Who am I, what is me, do I belong?
Have I been masquerading all along?

Think Again (Acrostic Sonnet)

How can you say that you can understand
And how could you believe you know my pain?
Voice lacking thought, your words like vomit ran,
Entered my shell, I really can't explain.

You seem to think that somehow you know me,
Or feel the things I've felt, or that you know.
Until you've lived my life, you cannot see

What things are hidden that I never show.
Are you so blinded by your own belief,
Left bitter by the wounds within your heart,
Kept fettered by your own remorse and grief,
Each thing I say, you twist and tear apart?
Do you realize the way the things you say

Insult me so and minimize my pain?
Next time you try to wish my past away

Make sure you stop and think, then think again.
You cannot really know what I've been through,

So don't pretend you're just the same as me.
How can you think that I'd confide in you,
Or trust you when yourself is all you see?
Each time you judge me, if you really care,
Step back and ask yourself, "Have I been there?"