Today has been a difficult day. I was hoping that I would wake up and have this surge of power and confidence. I am learning that just as Rome wasn’t built in a day, neither will my buoyancy. Several times I have stopped in my tracks and wondered, “Is this just a dream?” Then the twins pull on my pant’s leg and Chloe brings me a movie to put in. No, there is no waking up and life just being different. I have a journey to experience, I have pavement to place towards a better future.
Tomorrow brings anxiety as my heart races just at the thought of appearing in court. My appetite poor and stress melting weight, I continue to feel this urge to vomit. Nervousness is an understatement. Tears well until my vision is blurry while reciting my concern to the judge in my head. I have become terrified of a man I love deeply.
I began to question myself, “Am I doing the right thing?” As I begin to surface repressed experiences, the answer is yes. Still, to this day, my heart beats out of control and the fear freezes my body as I remember the day that he demonstrated an act of abuse towards a past relationship. I will never forget how he placed his hands upon me and his right knee on my chest and simulated the jumping on that person’s upper body. I cower as I relive the night of August 21, 2008. He charged at me and ripped a cigarette out of my mouth, then proceeded to tear the entire pack into shreds. He stood above me as I curled into a ball and sobbed with fear. He screamed, “There now what are you going to do?” I remember the degraded feeling I had when he spit on me. I responded to his disgusting behavior with, “You don’t deserve what you have.” He doesn’t deserve me.
With the cycle of domestic violence the aggressor has a cycle as well as the victim. Constantly I am struggling with maintaining my position and not getting sucked into my “faith phase.” This is where I believe he has opened his eyes and will begin to follow through on his once empty promises of breaking the disturbing pattern. Multiple times I have put myself back together and decided, “Ok, one more shot…one more chance.” What are the odds? I consistently hear that the chance of a full recovery without slipping back is slim. An outsider can without a doubt recognize this. While carrying an intimate roll in the situation as his partner I may see that it is 99 to 1, but I have that one.
Where do I go from here? Endurance to focus on the reason I am here will keep the insight up front. This apprehension wasn’t developed over night; it wasn’t formed by one incident. Embracing my fear and realizing that I don’t deserve this will pull me through. Upholding the approach of taking it one day a time will allow each inquiry of my personal strength to be an elated achievement.
I can do this…I can survive!
Goodnight….
~Nina~
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