My posts and the comments of the last few days have got me thinking again as they often do.
Apologies to you all. Fasten your seat belts and put your helmets on, you’re about to be audience to my ramblings once again.
I went back into the days and times, which I don’t like to do, but I feel I must for the sake of this blog and for information’s sake. Always having been a thinker, it’s not surprising I guess. Oh, I just don’t think though, I ponder and then when you think that a matter couldn’t be pondered anymore, then I turn it over again and look at it from another vantage point. I’m a little bit nutty that way. So suffice it to say, that when a decision needs to be made or a thought needs to be voiced…I have thought about it long AND hard and it’s very likely been rattling around in my brain for a good long while. I’m always surprised when an thought or concern comes out of my mouth it’s not accompanied by a dust bunny or two.
But I digress, you’ll find I also have a habit of this. It’s like I have A.D.D. or something related….”oh my, would you look at that pretty flower?) Anyway, you get the picture.
I was trying to decide when the day was that I actually took back by rights and my choice to choose how the ball was going to bounce. Incidentally, conscious choice is what I’m talking about because believing you have control over many other aspects of life is something akin to a grand illusion. After all, the control freaks in our lives were the ones walking around on two legs and mucking around with our emotional and physically well being, right? Any way, enough of that. This isn’t a pity party.
Was it the day that he brought his mistress to the hospital to see his baby girl born early and the nurses told me in neo-natal even though he denied ’til he was blue in the face? – Nope, I cried and told him that was a lousy thing to do in the face of his stony denials. Finally ‘fessing up to taking a “client” there. Yeah okay, a client, and at that time of night…sure, sure….and pigs fly!!
Was it the day that I saw him drag her back to her car by her hair and shove her across the driver’s seat where she landed in a heap on the passenger seat? – Nope, shocked and horrified, but still somewhere in my rationale of the whole scenario, I thought there must have been a reason for his actions. Truthful answer, but makes me ill to know that somewhere, somehow, I might have justified his horrible treatment of his mistress, just because I was uncomfortable with her. Rotten, but there I’ve said it. So it wasn’t that day.
Was it the day that he made my daughter and I go to get paternity tests because he had been caught in a lie with his mistress about his whereabouts and his dealings with me? – Nope, it was a down low, dirty rotten thing to do, considering he had (and knew) he was the only one I’d been with…ever. But did that stop him? A resounding NO! And what of that day? I let him know it was awful, I told him to tell his mistress to take the test results and shove them up her ***. Oh, and he had to hold our crying daughter while she got poked by some totally unnecessary needle. JERK. I’m sorry to say that was not the turning point either.
Was it the day when I threw my wedding rings and told him I wan’t nothing more to do with him. Stay away from me! Followed by him grabbing me by the throat and pushing me against the hallway railings so hard that I had bruises from the railings and from his hands? – Nope, I wish I could say it was, but it wasn’t. I told him to get his hands off of me. That he’d be sorry if he ever touched me that way again. I guess I made my point, but that wasn’t the day.
Was it the day when having just got off of the phone with him upstairs and was crying, my daughter came up the stairs and discovered me crying (one of the only days that I didn’t hide my tears from her when she was little) – Nope, not then either. She crawled up on the bed and took my face with both of her hands and said to me in the most compassionate and caring voice that a 2 year old can muster and said “That ***** is a bad man!” (she was still calling her father by his first name at this point in her life). I really think that she must’ve hit the nail on the head with that comment…but did I listen? did I make that choice then? No, sadly I did not.
Was it the day when I told him I was selling the house that he was supposed to have moved in with us, together as a family again, because I was moving? – Possibly. Even when he threatened that day and we had to stay at someone else’s home that night, I stood my ground. Yes, I think that might have been it.
When I ponder my ponderings, I think that we are defined possibly by our small choices along the way. Whether we’re hindered by them or emboldened by them, is possibly not the thing that we should be spending a lot of time considering. It’s what we learn from them in the long run that makes all the difference in where we’re going. Regrets, I’ve had a few….as the song goes. It’s taken me a while to realize that my steps out of his life were taken baby steps at a time. Small realizations coming to fruition over time and space.
Tiny baby steps, but then that was my choice. Perhaps not the easier way or the most efficient, but my way and on my terms. Free and clear.
In a way, my relinquishing of control brought my freedom to control. In a weird way. Once I decided that he didn’t have control and wouldn’t anymore, I relinquished my control (if you can call it that) over his part in my life and once that happened….that’s when I really started to live again.