Showing posts with label difficulty crying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label difficulty crying. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

In the Bottom of a Hole (poem)

Trying to block out the piercing screams of yesterday
Some days it seems like an eternity away
Other days,
I'm in a haze,
And it feels close
Like the nose
On my face.
Reaching for a sense of who I am,
Of who I was before . . .
Was I somebody back then,
Or have I always been this empty shell?
I have no way of knowing,
There's no easy way to tell.
I think I remember a little girl
That used to be me.
That used to believe in goodness.
In beauty.
In truth.
But that was long ago.
Where did she go?
Did I bury her with the babies I lost?
Was that part of the cost - -
Losing my soul in the midst of the storm?
I wish I could cry.  I wish I knew why.
I wish I could understand the reasons
For year after year of those seasons
Of waking nightmares in a living hell.
I wish I didn't remember it so well.
I wish I knew how to navigate this road,
How to straddle the potholes that emerge
Without falling back into some bottomless pit
That has no end to it.
I wish to hell that none of it was real,
That I could stuff the agony I feel,
That I could make some sense of it all.
But I can't.
It's just more and more and more of the same.
More leg-spreading, gut-wrenching, mind-blowing pain.
More heart-breaking, soul-bending, self-splitting shame.
And to think that to him it was only a game!
So here I sit, not knowing what to do.
I don't know when all this "feeling" will be through.
Do I hide? Do I fight it?
Is there any way to right it?
Will my mind forever be a shattered mess?
Is there any way to navigate this?
How do I let it go?
How can I just say it happened. It sucked.
And then walk away.
As though it didn't matter.
As though it didn't shatter
Every part of my soul.
I'm really struggling to see
What the point's supposed to be.
I don't want to be a victim.
I don't want to let that dick win.
But I feel so stuck here . . .
Like I'm in the bottom of a hole
That I'll never crawl out of.


Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Remembering (freewrite)

I was having trouble sleeping tonight because I was going back and listening to audio recordings of 3 years ago just before we left my abusive ex-husband.  What WAS I thinking? Talk about a recipe for insomnia . . .

I guess I was doubting myself, yet again ... asking myself "was it really that bad?" ...

God, I wish life made sense ... ever ... and I wish it didn't have to still hurt so much.

I need to cry, but I can't. The tears are right at the edge of my eyes. I can feel them there, searing, stinging, burning, begging to be allowed to fall. But they can't. They won't. Yet.

So many people around the world have suffered and ARE STILL suffering much more than I have/am. What right do I have to complain? None.

It's not even so much the guilt of how I know others have and are suffering worse, it's that I keep questioning why any of this has happened. I suppose I sort of know the answer to that -- my own poor choices when I was young and stupid led to this. So, in a sense, I have no one but myself to blame. I chose to date him.  I chose to sleep with him.  I chose to bear his child.  I chose to marry him.  I chose to stay with him.

But then sometimes I look at my children, and I see them suffering once in awhile, struggling to figure out the difference between "good daddy" and "bad daddy." I see them struggling with questions they can't answer ... and I don't have the answers either. And then I think, "Lord, it isn't fair. They have done nothing to deserve this. They didn't ask to be born into this nightmare. They are innocent. Punish me, if you must, but they've been through enough already."

The tears begin to silently overflow. I can envision him over me, pinning me down, sneering at me, saying: "Quit your crying. What do you have to cry about? Oh, that's right. You're a horrible worthless mother. Piece of shit -- MY piece of shit."

And I tried so hard not to cry. I really tried. Most times I didn't cry. The physical pain I could deal with. But his words cut so deep, and those words I couldn't escape. I FELT like a worthless mother. After all, what kind of a mother cowers in fear and can't keep the house tidy and running smoothly? What kind of a mother gets so distracted that she can't keep track of simple things like which days which kids have gym class and need to pack shorts? What kind of a mother can't potty train her children? What kind of mother can't keep up with the laundry and dishes? A horrible, worthless mother.

But I love my children & they always knew that. And everything I did, I did for them. And when I cried, it wasn't for me, it was for THEM ... For the mother they should have had, for the home they should have had, For the LIFE they should have had...

But I was too weak. And I was too scared. So I just rolled over and took it, because it's the only thing I knew to do. And when I cried, I heard:

"Enough with the crying. You're always so dramatic. How am I supposed to enjoy myself with you crying like that? Roll over so at least I don't have to look at your ugly fucking face. And if you gotta cry, for crissakes keep it to yourself. Shut the fuck up, I'm almost done and then you can have your fucking pity party."

What is WRONG with me? Why would I have thought so little of myself as a human being that I would have given him the keys to my soul just because he said I was smart and beautiful? Did I really need to hear that so much that I was willing to sacrifice EVERYTHING to be with him? And how could I have let myself get so beaten down emotionally & spiritually that I let it continue for so many years & simply accepted it as "God's will?"

I told myself if only I was a better wife, if only I was a better mother, things would be different. I've read back through my prayer journals, and over the years the same phrases are repeated again and again:

-Lord, help me be a better wife.
-Lord, help me be a better housekeeper.
-Lord, help me be a better mother.

Did I honestly think that if I magically became the perfect woman, that everything would be okay? How could I have let him brainwash me like that? How could I have absorbed HIS reality and made it my own ... to the point where he didn't have to put me down because I put myself down?
 
I know I have worth because I am a child of God. But right about now, I don't feel very worthy of anything. I can look back & see how far the Lord has brought us over the last 3 years, and I thank Him & praise Him for that, but I can't even accept compliments or simple words of encouragement without awkwardly minimizing them or explaining them away ...

I'm so exhausted and longing for rest. And I "hear" my Savior say, "cast your burdens on me."
So for tonight, I'll try to do that ... Thank you, Jesus!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

I Wish I Knew (Acrostic Sonnet)

Why did my tears escape the concrete dam?
How could I just relax and let them fall?
Am I so out of touch with who I am
That I don't know the things I feel at all?
Do I believe I'll never see the end
Of all this pain that's turned my heart to stone?
If I could have one wish, I'd like a friend,
Lest I forever live my life alone.
Of course, this wasn't how my life was planned.
No matter what I fear, I know I must
Go forth and grasp tomorrow by the hand,
Forget the past, and somehow learn to trust.
Of all the things I wish that I could feel,
Right now I wish I knew that love was real.