Where I Am Now: An Honest Look

 

This week marks the 2nd anniversary of my divorce to a man I was married to for 22 years. My divorce came on the heels of pervasive abuse in my marriage, directed toward myself and my children. As a survivor of domestic violence, I am highly sensitive to the experiences of those of us victimized and manipulated in power dynamics characterized by chronic confusion and fear, making it seemingly impossible to discern a way out. Thanks to our remarkable nervous system, we adapt to endure unconscionable circumstances. And not just survive, but also thrive in a system of abuse, embracing gratitude as a means of resilience. No one will be any wiser if we smile and yield -- it's a survival tactic. Do not let on that you are being hurt, as it only invites further abuse. My situation was such that my system instinctively shielded me without my conscious awareness.

The aftermath of leaving a long-term abusive relationship feels crippling. I left my marriage with c-PTSD, a body that was numb, a system that was dysregulated, and massive amounts of confusion as I awoke to the reality of my circumstances. Domestic abuse is severely consequential. I found myself grieving a marriage that felt like a lifetime, confused with feelings of both missing my ex-husband and intense rage toward him, which existed simultaneously. Add to that the confusing and baffling messages from others excusing my ex-husband's behavior. Isolation, loneliness, powerlessness. These are all part of my experience. As a mother of children who were not only abused by their father but witnessed their mother being harmed, I internalized my rage and directed the blame toward myself. I believed that I was weak, foolish, and fragile. I felt incapable of protecting both myself and my children, leading me to question the kind of mother I was.

I have done tiresome work toward healing. The journey has required that I face my demons, that I reprocess very difficult and terrifying memories, and also surrender to uncertainty. Alongside the pain, I am learning that my work is to embrace my choices with self-compassion. To honor the parts of myself that couldn't see a way out, that didn't trust herself enough to own her power.

Part of my healing is also to embrace the difficult moments without trying to change them. This week has been challenging. Mother's Day brings up feelings of inadequacy that are difficult to ignore. I haven't resolved how to reframe Mother's Day yet. Right now this day serves as a reminder that I am navigating this parenting thing alone. I have fears about how I will manage moving forward as a lone caregiver of a child with significant needs. How do I embrace these challenges without overlooking my own pain and fears? I haven't found the solution yet, but I trust that one day I will.

Last night I sat out on my patio watching Master Charlie sit quietly. I observed what looked like him enjoying the sensations and sounds of the wind. It was touching.

A few nights ago, I observed Freeman during a game of D&D mastering his wordsmithery and expressive gift of creativity. I was amused and moved.

Yesterday in a moment of vulnerability, Grace asked me for a hug and was willing to allow me into her world where I cried with her in her pain. It was a tender moment.

I won't dismiss these moments, nor will I ignore the accompanying pain and fear. They exist for a reason. Perhaps this is an integral part of the healing process -- acknowledging and bearing witness to every last bit of it. I am committed to my healing journey; I am evolving. I am learning.

Until my heart is moved to write again,

Peg