My favorite sound these days
Is the whoosh of gentle air blowing in and out. Or not so gentle.
Your Breath. Louder. Make it RATTLE even.
The signal that the worst is over.
I can allow my nervous system some calm.
To Relax.
To Settle.
To Be still.
No longer on high alert.
You are safely asleep.
I am safer than I was. For now.
The sun will rise soon.
Another work day.
Another school day.
What will you do?
Will you sleep?
Will you wake up feeling ill?
Will you hate yourself even more?
I hope not.
Or will you still cling to your anger?
Please, God, I really hope not.
When will my real husband return?
You are an imposter.
I don’t like you. I don’t want you.
I did not choose you.
You are hurtful, and angry, and selfish.
You think only of yourself.
Why does he keep opening the door to you?
Why does he invite you into my life?
And our children’s?
Why does he continue to allow you to terrorize me?
How many nights should I tolerate being called a bitch and a witch and all manner of nasty names? Sarcastic comments, gaslighting… I did not sign up for this.
Why does he think we deserve this?
Does he think I deserve this other version and the meanness he brings?
I know with certainty that I do not.
That person is the worst parts of his father and step-father rolled into one.
He knows that pain. The nasty treatment of the people who should love you best.
Yet he keeps subjecting me to the torment.
He thinks I am strong.
He gets angry when I hold up the mirror.
He gets angrier when I tell him I can’t do this anymore.
He doesn’t take me seriously.
Why would he when I’ve enabled it for so long?
“In the name of survival, we get used to this”
But I’m not surviving anymore.
I’m barely holding on.
I’ve been treading water for so long,
But now…I feel the tug on the underneath.
I want to sink down and never bob back up if this is the reality I have to return to.
I want to never see his bleary red eyes.
I want to never hear his slur.
I’m disgusted by the pseudo baby-talk affect.
He doesn’t even try to hide it - because he can’t.
I want to never need to hold my breath, waiting to see which version of him I get today.
Please, just keep snoring.
The gentle whisper or the strong rattle breath that tells me this cycle is nearing the end for the night. I hope.
Unless a dog barks.
Or a teenager comes bounding loudly into our room.
Or he has to pee.
Or he is cold. Or hungry. Or…or…or…
Because it’s all about HIS comfort.
HIS trauma.
While he is self-medicating to avoid facing up to his unprocessed truths,
While he is avoiding his trauma,
He is adding to mine.
That’s what I’ve been told.
Who do I turn to?
Trauma-informed therapist.
Al-Anon
Protect my own mental health, my own sleep (what a joke!)
Smart Recovery for Families.
Options.
Options that won’t guide me in what I really want.
Options that I don’t have the bandwidth for.
They won’t tell me how to help him get better, just how to cope.
I’m already an expert at coping.
At being everyone else’s rock.
So another night has passed, like so many before.
Like how many to come?
Trying to protect him from himself.
Trying to shield the children from the worst of it.
I have lied to them so so so many times.
Protecting them. From him.
From his mean, nasty, over the line, not-ok
-to-say-to-your-teenage-children remarks.
Protecting him. From their response if they knew just how bad things have gotten. Or, worse, if he crossed a line that he can’t uncross.
Trying to manage his alter-ego while we both neglect me.
No one protects me. I put myself in the line of fire repeatedly for the sake of everyone else.
I can’t do this anymore.
It’s killing me.
I love the real you. I want YOU back for good.
I hate the version of you that I get on nights like this.
Why? And how can I help you stop letting that vile, hurtful, hateful doppelgänger in?
You tell me you still have love for me.
This isn’t love.
This is pain.
The louder the snoring, the more relaxed I can let myself be.
There is a measure of relief, knowing you have finally fallen into slumber.
And yet, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to fall.
Like a skittish cat.
I can’t relax.
I can’t trust.
I can’t believe your words.
Because they are always lies.
I wish I knew the words to make you leave for good.
Leave me with my husband. Please.
Leave me with love, and partnership.
Just leave.
And don’t come back.
I beg you.
Leave my husband alone.
You’ve stolen my best friend and left me stranded in this world.
I can’t be strong forever.
You are breaking me.
You need to let him be.
Let me be.
You angry demon.
Fuck. All. The. Way. Off.
Dear Lord, please give him the strength to resist his demons, to put the needs of his wife and children above his own comfort, to do what he needs for himself and not what he wants, to love himself best of all, and to see his own worth.
Please. Just keep snoring.