Clarity

I think it was the "you can trust me" statement that washed clarity over me like a bucket of crystal clear water dumped over my head.

The morning had been tense last Thursday. My new high-schooler would be riding the bus to school and would be leaving the house after me for the first time. I had given her her first key to our home on the previous day. STBX had already been hovering around. The day before, when we all left at 7:30 AM, he showed up at 7:00...I was still in my pajamas.

Thursday morning, I was to leave at 7:00 with my younger daughter and leave my older daughter home until she left for her bus stop at 7:30. I knew that STBX would possibly show up at 7:00 instead of 7:30 to wait at the bus stop with her. That would create the possibility of him wanting to wait inside the house with her for those thirty minutes. I knew in the deepest part of my soul that this was something I was not going to allow to happen. I also knew that I would not let my daughter be the one to have to deliver the news to him. I was going to have to face the moment.

He stood inside my tiny foyer as I held the door open with my keys in the lock. I had already told him that DD1 would be leaving at 7:30. DD2 was already in the van waiting for me. He neither made a gesture to walk out the door or to sit on the couch with DD1. As usual, he was waiting for me to be the one to make the first move...so that he could appear innocent and take no blame for whatever decision had to be made.

I'm not sure which corner of my psyche summoned such emotionally correct words, but this is what came out, "I'm not comfortable with you staying here while I'm not home." Calm...cool...and collected. He responded, "C'mon, let's just make this easy for DD1. This isn't going to be a habit. It's just for today. I just want to sit here with her until it's time for her to leave and then make sure she gets on the bus safely." This, to me, felt like he was insinuating that I was the one making things difficult for our child. I was the one causing trouble. Classic.

I shook inside and deliberated over what would be best for DD1 and what I could live with. I negotiated in my head, considering letting him stay but telling him that he was not to leave the living room. I quickly realized what a ridiculous request that would be, as it would only invite him to snoop around imagining there must be something that I did not want him to see. I also saw that my DD1 was just fine sitting on the couch talking with her friends on her phone. My girl was handling things just fine, and what would be best for her would be to begin getting used to her new normal, which would consist of being home alone for thirty minutes in the morning and leaving the house safely and on time, locking all doors and turning off lights, stove, oven, etc.

So what happened next was that my insides shook, but my mouth could not come up with any other words other than, "I really don't feel comfortable with you staying here while I'm not home." Then came the moment of truth for me. His reply was, "I think you can trust me..."

This is where the bucket of crystal clear water poured over my head. He could not have said anything more wrong to me. I'm not sure where the trigger comes from, but a person with whom I haven't developed a trusting relationship telling me that I can trust them just sends me running in the opposite direction. Maybe my stepfather used to say that to me.

At that point, it became very easy for me to reply to him, "Actually, I can't. If I could, I would feel comfortable with you staying here." I didn't shake, and I didn't yell. I was composed and matter-of-fact. He looked at DD1 and told her that he would be waiting outside for her. I even had the presence of mind to say thank you after he said that to her.

Outside, he asked in disbelief, "Why are we still married?" (As if, I thought, what a question). "I have no idea", I replied, got in my van and drove away. Inside I still quivered, but I knew that I would recover. I knew that I had done exactly what was right and exactly what my soul could live with. I was immensely proud of myself for not letting someone else manipulate me into a zone of absolute discomfort.

For His Pleasure

"It's bathing suit season", I told him, "and I've been having flashbacks". Flashbacks of beach days with my stepfather and of things he wanted me to do...for his pleasure.

For his pleasure, he wanted me to sit a certain way when no one was looking, open my legs and allow him to see some pubic hair coming out of my bathing suit. Ugggh!! It was embarrassing, humiliating, frightening and shameful. Sometimes I didn't do it. Sometimes, I didn't open my legs right...sometimes, I didn't sit right...sometimes, I shaved before going to the beach...and he would be angry.

It was the shaving that brought on the flashbacks. I am now an adult, and I shave before wearing a bathing suit...like other adult women do. But this season, shaving is bringing back his intrusive memories. I am in my shower and back at the beach at the same time. I am an adult and a 12-year-old at the same time. I try to be present and push back the memories, but they return.

So I had to say something in counseling yesterday. I told my therapist everything and knew that by just being capable of verbalizing this story, I had come an incredibly long way. I felt like I owned my voice.

But I also had physical sensations after revealing my thoughts. When I was finished, my heart was pounding and burning with anger. I felt a rage for nor being allowed to enjoy the beach with my siblings, for being made to stay back alone with him while the others went in the water. Remembering makes me want to vomit. I am enraged for having to display myself for his pleasure.

Last night I slept in long-sleeved fleece pajamas. I felt the need to be cradled and caressed only by the softness of the fabric. I wanted no part of me exposed to the air or anyone's hands. In this manner, I slept well and safe.

Kate Spade is Dead

Kate Spade was found dead in her apartment two days ago. She had committed suicide. I learned of her death at the end of my therapy appointment. As I was pulling up my calendar to schedule my next appointment, I saw a push message from Google News (I really should have those settings fixed).

I was stunned to see the news, but I was at the end of my appointment and continued with scheduling the next visit and left. I didn't learn of her suicide until that night, and this is what saddened me and scared me.

I would not know Kate Spade from John Doe if I had not recently listened to a podcast where she was interviewed regarding how she built her business and line of Kate Spade bags. I assure you that I have never owned a single Kate Spade bag...or any other designer bag...it's not my thing.

After listening to the podcast, I was not any more likely to purchase her products, but I was impressed by the way she took an idea and a need and through hard work, struggle and perseverance, turned it into a very successful business. I didn't know her personally nor did I follow her closely, but she was A-OK in my book of women entrepreneurs with a ton of courage.

So hearing that she struggled with depression and took her own life after so much professional success kicked me in the gut. I hate it when people die, but a suicide sends me spinning. I think it's the "there but for the grace of God" feeling that I get. I hurt deeply for the victim, because I know what it feels like to be in that place. I am also incredibly scared because I wonder what stopped me that didn't stop them. Why she and not me? What's to say that I wouldn't find myself in that exact place in the future? I hope not.

So I Fell

I cut last night...which basically means that it's time to sort my shit again. Not that I'm not continuously sorting shit (aren't we all?), but things have started to get overwhelming. So I resorted to my old go-to method of relief...escape.

I hate to think of cutting as my "go-to method". I tell myself that it isn't. It isn't. It isn't. I just had a fall last night...that's all. There have been so many other times when I have been strong and when I have chosen differently. There have been so many other times, especially recently, when cutting hasn't even been part of the list of options. This is how I like to see myself - someone who doesn't consider self-harm as a possibility.

I just fell last night. Somehow I felt that I deserved to hurt and that the sting would quiet the screaming in my head.