To the world, you are one person...but to one person, you are the world!

�It's not going to happen!
2004-12-16 at 12:15 am

I really like this "order of protection." It's a safe place to hide, and deal with only what affects my immediate life.
MIL's call today just threw me for a loop. After all I have been through and still have ahead of me, the last thing I really want to do is deal with the knowledge that finally, after consulting with lawyers all week and learning that he has indeed REALLY fucked up, he now has regrets. And loves me, loves the kids, wants to fix things, blahblahblahblahblah. In a nutshell, four days later, he is hurting. I have so many thoughts on this one phone call, so many different ways to view things!
She explained how he is feeling right now. It's all to be expected, every abuser has his little "honeymoon period" with regrets...but it doesn't change anything. It doesn't erase the marks- not physically or emotionally. It won't undo the trauma to a little girl who cried through it all, and can't forgive or forget. It doesn't fix all that has been broken, either by his hands or his words. And even if it could temporarily be set aside, the evil would remain and only roar its ugly head at some other point in time.
He has lost the same things that I have, and then some. It only stands to reason that he wants them BACK now, and is willing to try almost anything to bandage the open wounds to try to heal them. The reality is that what is lost for me can never be replenished, no matter what.
I'm not sure what hurt more, his hands on my body in anger, or his accusing eyes as he beat me verbally with nonsense. Above all of it, the greatest pain came from what he did to my daughter. I am still reminded daily that her wounds are fresh, her heart is damaged and she is frightened. She wants to be held like she did as a newborn baby...constantly, tightly, and closely. Only by Mama. The tired circles under her pretty little eyes cast a shadow over her beautiful, delicate face, bringing her usually sunny, little girl features into a stressed and exhausted expression. She doesn't sleep well when she does sleep, and going to bed is more upsetting to her than ever because she does NOT want to be alone. Tonight, falling over herself and crying because she was so tired, she had to be put to bed a bit earlier than usual and cried her eyes out for her little sister, who wasn't ready for bed that early. In the night, I will feel that familiar warmth as she once again quietly slides into my bed next to me and lies her little head on the pillow where her father used to sleep. She won't make a sound, fearing I will wake and put her into her own bed- although I don't anymore. Instead, I pull her tiny body near mine and kiss her soft head as she drifts back of to sleep. She will wake every morning and mention her anger, fear, or question our situation to see if things are still the same. She will be near me throughout the day.
I can't even begin to think of the pain HE is feeling when I am surrounded by hers.
I can't help but notice how conveniently timed his sorrow is- not until after he was counselled by lawyers and police of his status did he have regrets that went beyond his actual physical outburst. He knows what he did was wrong, but I am certain that only includes the violence, not the paranoid accusations. Had he never touched me, he would still feel vindicated and justified in his feelings. Throughout our marriage, there always had to be some sort of DRAMA, usually concocted in his own mind and frequently directed at my poor behavior as a wife. How he ever could have married someone with so many fatal shortcomings eludes me. I can only begin to understand how tolerated me for so long and finally could no longer resist the urge to beat it out of me once and for all.
The last time, I was a spendthrift. I destroyed him financially, blowing money left and right so that he had no choice but to work constantly. He could not settle himself down enough to actually listen to me, he could only remain quiet for a moment, allow me to speak, yet not hear a word I said. He had no idea what it actually costs to run a household with two very small children, both in diapers at the time and one who was still eating baby food! He had his sister step in to control my life that time, which enraged me even more. Finally, it came to a head and he shoved me around and threw me by the hair and I left for several days. I should have stayed gone the first time, and Kelly would never have had to live the experience that she did last Sunday night.
No, I don't want to concentrate on his hurt. I am finding little "silver linings" in my dark cloud every day, as minor and non-life altering as they may be. Little things that cause me to feel constant stress have been virtually eliminated. A box of Oreo Double Stuff cookies, the girls' favorite, lasts more than an hour in the house now. Any little treats can be relied on to be in the cupboard when they deserve one, not used as a diabetic free-for-all when he has neglected to manage his diabetes, gone too low, and eaten every tasty thing in the house to bring himself up, upwards of 300-400 or better at times. A gallon of milk lasts two days, instead of two gallons almost every day. Dishes find their way to the dishwasher now, thanks to the world's most wonderful babysitter who amazed me by showing me that I am not the only person on the planet who can play with the kids, get them to bed, clean up the mess by putting toys AWAY instead of piling them in a corner, and actually putting the dirty dishes IN THE DISHWASHER instead of a heap in the sink with loose food still on them! Hell, she even empties the clean dishes from it FIRST! I really thought no one else knew how that "magic box" worked!
Here I sit, at midnight, journalling away without anybody conjuring up wild thoughts about what activities I am doing online. I would also be downloading adorable dance pictures I took yesterday, if I could find the camera. (I think I left it at dance class, damn it.) When I am done here, I will probably read ALL the posts on the April Babies board, and Parenting after Infertilty. I can post replies, join discussions, and who knows- maybe a live chat with my trash-talking Mommy pals! No one is here to accuse me of looking at PORN, having an affair, or other such nonsense.
My heart may be broken but my spirit is not. My home may be broken but my faith is not.
MIL plans to call back tomorrow. I really don't want to take that call, and I may not. I told her I didn't see any alternatives to the choices I have been forced to make, and nothing is going to change that by tomorrow morning! Abusers don't fix things, they can't. They may regret, but in time, that old rage and paranoia finds its way back again, and the next time I may not be so lucky. The next time I will NOT be so lucky- I am certain it will be even worse, it always is. Textbook case of an abuser, it gets more violent each time, and he has proven that in his own case already. The next time, the girls will be even older, with deeper scars. The next time will NOT come. I will not allow it to. They mean far too much to me.
I live in fear right now. I know the rage that boils inside him, even through his current ache of loss. It's a matter of time until he hates me completely again and blames me for every pain in his life. He will snap again, I can only pray to God for protection, and use some common sense. This is no way that anyone should have to live, it really isn't.
Poor MIL. She sees his tears and genuinely wants to help put back the broken pieces of our marriage and make things right again. She just doesn't understand. In the begining, there is love, hope and trust. When the good has been whittled away for so long, and there isn't anything left, you can't bring it back.
And you certainly can't afford to try!

Last Five

Nostalgic Mama - 2005-08-21
Fitting, I suppose- though a bit outdated? - 2005-07-24
Pathetic Wondering - 2005-05-30
Brain-Dead Carnie - 2005-05-22
The Bedbugs Bit Me - 2005-05-16

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