Telling my story:
There has been such a big part of me that has wanted to pretend that my past never happened. That I have been single this whole time and never got married and that the five and a half years was just a bad dream.
Then I wouldn’t have to face anything and I could just pick up life where I left off.
It is not that simple.
I have discovered that burying my story deep inside has ramifications. I feel as though I have become numb. I have shut off my emotion. I feel that I have less empathy than before. I often feel disconnected from my emotions.
I learnt to become almost robotic in my marriage to Pete, my first response to ANY incident that occurred and the ramifications of it (broken wall, personal items of mine that were smashed/ripped up) was to say “that’s fine.” My family didn’t believe me at first when I said that I didn’t raise my voice or respond in anger back to him.
The Christine that they knew was quite feisty and extremely verbal. With my family growing up I had no problem ripping into my siblings on occasion when I was disappointed or hurt by something. But with Pete I quickly learned that this was impossible, dangerous even. If I voiced a disagreement this would be countered by him saying that he was going to “kill himself.” Whereupon I would speedily take everything back.
I have begun to realise that there is deep, deep, pain buried inside my soul that I have blocked off. I need to grieve for what is past. For the first time in a long, long time I find myself desiring to cry.
And I am not talking about ordinary crying – a few tears rolling down my cheek; I need to weep, wail, shout and scream for the abuse that I suffered.
One of the main reasons I have not wanted to cry is because I am afraid of what it would look like to let go of my tight, rein of control over my emotions and give in to my grief and pain.
Control is what I clung to when everything was going wrong. I would start to diet (as in skipping meals) and this gave me a sense of control. I controlled my emotional response to his rampages by taking deep breaths and accepting what was to come as though it was completely fine and normal. Control made me feel as though I could physically impact and change my response to my unpredictable, chaotic world.
Letting go of this control scares me. I am scared to discover what my own emotions look like. I never expressed anger at him the whole time we were together, I never told him face to face how much he hurt and wounded my soul. All of that anger lurks somewhere inside and I am afraid at how ugly it may look.
I don’t know if any of you have been in this place. I wanted to share in the hope that it may encourage you to look deep within your own soul and see if there is stuff in there that you desperately need to get off your chest.
Let us break free together, let us share our stories together.
My plan is to write my story down, potentially from the beginning, but at the very least I need to write down each episode in its rawest form, holding nothing back. And I am sure that in this process, my tears will fall and wet and stain the pages.
Tears of healing, refreshing rain that will ease the storm within my soul.
I love the song by Keith Urban “Tonight I wanna cry”
Even though I don’t advocate being completely drunk as a beneficial way of expressing emotion, I love the words in the chorus where he says “And I thought that being strong meant never losing your self-control.. but to hell with my pride, let it fall like rain, from my eyes. Tonight I wanna cry.”
“Tonight I Wanna Cry”
Alone in this house again tonight
I got the TV on, the sound turned down and a bottle of wine
There’s pictures of you and I on the walls around me
The way that it was and could have been surrounds me
I’ll never get over you walkin’ away
I’ve never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I thought that bein’ strong meant never losin’ your self-control
But I’m just drunk enough to let go of my pain
To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain
From my eyes
Tonight I wanna cry
Would it help if I turned a sad song on
“All By Myself” would sure hit me hard now that you’re gone
Or maybe unfold some old yellow lost love letters
It’s gonna hurt bad before it gets better
But I’ll never get over you by hidin’ this way