Abuse and The Life That Never Was Because of the perfectly placed words and kindness of one person, and later the hand of God changing the rest, that the one thing said here applied to my life until yesterday; I was hoping that I could get out of the prison in my own mind and come back to life, but I didn’t understand neither the cell door, nor the lock on that door. I was convinced to convict myself for 13 years of marriage of something that the false witness, or better yet, the jailer that I was to marry, knew I was incapable of doing. But it didn’t matter to her as long as I stepped into the prison of believing it and living as a failure that she could control, a tool, and not as a man. I confirmed yesterday that she never intended, even before we were married, to let me be either be a true husband or the happy father I could have been; robbed of a life and a lifetime of memories before they could unfold. They were not intended to. And so today; I am man emerging from a near 27 year long solitary confinement, inside my own mind, and due to the pain of it, of a 27 year self imposed exile from my own life, and literally from my true myself, and the rest of my family for someone I was told that I actually wasn’t and couldn’t have been. As I emerged I changed incrementally over these many months. But then two weeks ago God answers my prayers , shook me, showed me, and then revealed the truth of my captivity. My eldest son was the first to hear yesterday, and the first to tell me, I’m glad you finally see the man I know you are, not the one she prevented from being. A good man who was made to believe in a version of himself that didn’t really exist. His story and that of my younger son is very similar to mine, especially the younger, which reminded her of me, and whom I protected for years on end. It’s no wonder my essays and words sound as they did for years – they were letters from a prison; messages in a bottle. Adept at making a case against the injustices in the world, but unable to free myself. Today I have me back after this 27 year sentence for a something that did not exist in the first place - my belief that I failed at something that I wanted to be real, but never knowing that I was to never going to be allowed to see it; to be a real, happy, fulfilled, loving (without bracing or wincing) and loved husband and father. She knew it, but she made the illusion stick, and always kept it just out of reach. No wonder I’ve dreamed of having second chances with a new family, and to bring my kids with me into it, to prove that I could be the opposite of what she said. A do over where I get to be dad again, and let the kids see what its like to have a normal, loving family with me in it and a woman who loves me. The real infamy here is that I didn’t have to prove a thing against a prison she manufactured out of thin air, but I didn’t know it was out of thin air until yesterday. And so more brokenhearted years went down the drain while I struggled. Im never going to get back those years of my life back and so theres a reason I tear up when this Glen Campbell song plays about not being able remember or miss his life in this video because of Alzheimers, since I cant remember mine either --because it prevented from happening. It has to happen in order to be able to remember it. I dont have years and years of photographs and memories with my kids. Only a smattering. Or years of photographs and memories with my family. Look at the thousands of photographs over the last 25 years and Im not there except once in a while. Most of the ones of me, I am actually ashamed and pretending to smile. Theres a picture of me and my eldest son at Christmas, Im smiling, but what no one saw we being berated and insulted for 10 minutes about the video camera, the clothes and the shot. I deleted her yelling at me so no would ever find it by accident when shed play them for guests. Only I knew why theres a abrupt jump in the taping. Erasing is a very fitting word. Its as if I never existed. Its as if I was shoved into not existing before I could. Its what she wanted, and I believed, and it was the daily pounding that I was convinced I deserved. All an illusion she created that I would be a nothing, except to line her pockets. And there you have it. If you want to know whats in the heart of man whose life was stolen before it was allowed to unfold, this is it, except without the Alzheimers. I cant remember my life like this one because I never really had one like it. And because of that, to my closest friends and family, I am apologizing and will be apologizing for thinking something was real when it wasn’t and for reasoning like it was real when it wasn’t like some obscure philosopher living in exile on an island, laboring to decipher and solve what happened to his life. And apologize for not having figured it out sooner and living the contradiction of being so smart in stopping bad ideas in the world outside my window, but not smart enough to cut the counterfeit chains around my wrists. Standing outside now, I pray to God to help get to know this freed version of myself soon, because the walls I lived within for so long, was all I knew. The video is also what abuse and believing it can cost anyone. Abuse is a disease very much like Alzheimers. It gradually robs you of you and your life and its memories, but with abuse, real and good memories never get to form in the first place. It prevents life from unfolding with full, rich, meaningful memories of it. As you watch and listen to this beautiful song, look carefully; I have no memories of this togetherness, and neither do my sons (we talked). Time for me to move on from victim or survivor. Time to stand up for the freedom of others.
Posted on: Mon, 13 Oct 2014 14:21:01 +0000
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