I have been very quiet… here.
I have spent the summer months planning for my future and laying the groundwork to ensure things roll out ahead of me as close to just-the-way-I-would-like-it-to as possible. Aside from that, much of my time has been spent looking back; because well, it is close to impossible (or at the very least inadvisable) to make plans to move ahead without understanding and reckoning with (some of) what has happened in the past.
I have written a post about legacies; the reality of the foot and finger prints we invariably leave on lives. Especially those that share our DNA. Even without my posting I know you know. So today, I will not take up the precious moments you fling my way in reading this by regurgitating old news; instead I will lay bare and memorialize some of the realities of my own familial life. As always, I do this in the hope that my “mess” does a few things: (1) makes you smile knowing that either you are not the only one experiencing something similar or, brings comfort knowing someone else’s shit is just a tad more fucked up than yours. Or, possibly, hopefully some word or string of words line up and resonate just so, allowing for clarification, illumination or resolution.
It’s good to be back. So, let’s address this.
I have shared with you also the abusive demon I have had to face; the man I married who subsequently tried to kill me. The man I (publicly) thanked for his actions; because but for his, I would not now be experiencing mine. So, we’re done with him… for now. Another demon I have decided to confront however does not have stranger-dna; this one is so very much closer to home. And thus, more dangerous.
Now, before she pats herself on the back thinking she is badder than me or stronger than me because I referred to her as “dangerous” let me make it clear to both you and her – the ONLY thing she is, is more evil than me. So today I would like to start the conversation of, “What do we do when the place – home- where one is supposed to feel the safest, is chronically compromised? Truly. What do you do when you lock your doors at night and know that you have just locked the devil in?”
This goes against everything we have been taught to depend on; to believe in. Most of us bought and believed in the fable that the ‘boogie-man’ is out there; from some no-name place and with a face that is yet to become familiar. In none of our nursery rhymes or fables did anyone tell us that danger or evil could look so much like you, sound so very much like you, sleep in the bed next to you. That you would never have to struggle to remember what they looked like.
So what do we do? Well first, pray. Seriously. Ask God for not only protection for yourself and the other innocents, but be sure to ask Him for protection and mercy for those that may opt to try to “come for you”. You see, God, my God is the personification of the protective parent – He loathes when someone messes with His children! After you have done that, some may say, ‘Well, you have “given it to God” so leave it there and walk away.” Sound advice. And, in most times I would absofuckinglutely agree. But sometimes… sometimes you, okay I, just need people to know. You see, abusive/manipulative/vile/destructive behavior gets its fuel and gains momentum from fear or silence. I am neither afraid or will be silent.
I am always personal when I take the time to write; why write if not to share one’s honesty? Sometimes, like today, it is necessary to dig even a bit deeper; please forgive me. Sometimes the grit needs to come out and like Alicia Keys, we need to step out unmasked. My family is riddled with imperfections; that I can handle. What I reject wholeheartedly is behavior that manifests from a thoroughly rotten core.
Praying for all the innocents as well as the victimizers. May God have mercy on your soul.