Theresa
Bio
I love to write about life and feel very creative when I write; almost like my writing is cathartic, like my writing is jounaling, and therapy for anyone that cares to share my crazy thoughts.
Stories (4)
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if the walls could talk
If walls could talk, they would be crying, they would be bleeding from watching your abuse over the years. The walls would ask me “Why do you stay?” Are you a coward, is it the trauma bond, do you need to go “no contact?” If walls could talk they would be saying how confused they are about my behavior, “Why do you stay with an abuser, do you not have enough money to leave, do you not have a plane ticket out of here?” If walls could talk, they would breathe a sigh of relief when you go to work, they would say “Thank God, that man is gone, and you know he is nice to everyone else but you, it is the charisma of a narcissist.” If walls could talk, they would be so confused, asking me questions like, “Why are you so kind, why are you so confused about your situation, is the trauma bond really so addicting, is the intermittent reinforcement of abuse really so tough to break?” If walls could talk, they would tell me about courage, they would breathe deeply and tell me they are on my side, they see me, they see everything. The walls see everything that is hidden from the outside world. The walls say, “I see what is happening, I see the real man that is so scared of abandonment, that he needs to isolate you. I see the man that was so hurt in his childhood, he is now hurting others. I see the man that says he loves you, but everything needs to be his way. I see the man that is so controlling that it is like an obsession to be in control. I see the man that uses coercive control to manipulate your words and actions!” I see the man that threatens to commit suicide every time you threaten to leave, and still you stay. Am I like the ladies in the widow fantasy where most women want to leave, they just stay because it is easier, they have more money and sometimes they can relax when they are by themselves. Am I like the women that act like they have it together when actually they are hiding what their life is really like. They are hiding the emotional abuse that is rained on them so often, they almost do not notice it, it is ignored and tolerated, but why we ask ourselves? Is it the culture of women to be abused and raped and used, why is this, is testosterone that strong, can’t we fight and win this battle of the sexes, can’t we start destroying them the way they are attempting to destroy us? I feel stronger now just knowing that revenge is a sweet thing. When your health suffers, I smile to myself, and say Karma is a bitch isn’t it. The universe is finally rewarding you for all the pain you have caused me. The divine universe is on my side, and now you are a weak thing that will easily be destroyed. I feel so angry, it is so cathartic putting my pain on paper, I am releasing all of my pent up rage that is slowly destroying me and still I stay and I do not know why I stay. I don’t feel love, I feel a sense of safety sometimes, and sometimes I feel so abandoned, lonely and isolated. I am always looking for something, some way to escape. I am like the bird that is afraid to leave her cage, and what a beautiful cage it is, everything in its place. Married to someone with OCD is unbelievable and I always have to put things away, which is not my nature. If I was by myself, the walls whisper, you could have a bunch of cats sitting in your lap purring, you could let your house get messy and not worry about anyone. You could have your plants everywhere, comforting you with their greeness. If you were by yourself, you could breathe better, there would be no fear of doing something wrong, saying something wrong. I remember, I left a man once and he said, “Why are you leaving, I am happy.” That still makes me smile, it explains a lot.
By Theresa3 years ago in Confessions
