My old way died today. I'd been resisting it, though I knew it was coming. Of course it would happen right after Easter.
I've been working slowly, but dilligently on what I forsaw as the the most difficult of portion of my project, hitting walls every time I sat down to write.
Last night I uncovered the why behind the walls during a long, teary conversation with Oliver.
My project involves domestic violence awareness.
I had not acknowledged the ongoing verbal abuse I've been expreiencing these last ten years, and even into last weekend.
Before then, I acknowledged it,but last weekend? Am I not trying to show people the way out? The way of prevention?
I did not even see it in my own life. How discouraging.
Today, I wrote about the ongoing struggle I have with my relationship with abuse. It is difficult to acknowledge that I have a relationship with abuse. One that I avail myself to. I am one decision away from cutting that portion of my life off forever, and I find myself questioning if I can do that--if it is right.
Let me repeat that. I am questioning if I am capable of removing myself from abuse, and if it is the right thing to do. I pity my abuser. He is weak, sad, and sick. I am angry with myself.
I recognized my own behavior parralleling the behavior of a victim of abuse before I recognized his behavior as abusive. In fact, I needed Oliver's timely insight to help unlock my ability to even see that this man was verbally assaulting me. It is a constant attack on the spirit.
And I continue to lay the blame on myself.
This is the behavior of a victim of abuse.
But I don't want to be a victim. I see that I made myself available for too long. There is only one thing left to do.
About a month ago, I was talking with a collaborator on the project about how the public minimizes the impact the abuser has on the abused, and just how difficult it is for abused peoples to get away from there abusers, to stay away, and then to not be victimized again.
Entering into this project has led me down into the belly of my discomfort. It has asked me to light a fire there, and do what I've avoided all these years. Cut out the cancer.
Why is that so hard?
It's not in my nature to kill things. Even ugly, corrupting, destructive things. It's dirty business. I'll confront and be dramatic and basically do anything to make the situation livable without actually killing the source of the problem. I've expended an incredible amount of energy trying to keep the situation livable. Why? Fear...of what comes next, of hurting others....and guilt.
It's not sustainable, though, and today I ran out of fuel.
I don't know what comes next, all I know is that the old way has to be over now. I'm in the in-between, and that feels dark, scary, like death. I've been here before. Each time just before a new breakthrough, each bringing me a little closer to liberation, but this time is different, and I don't know how long it will last.
I know that my desire to embrace what is on the other side of this: allowing the parts of my identity that I've been afraid of to surface, and to retire the old way of thought and function is stronger now than my fear or laying old connection to rest.
Right now I'm in a space of acknowledging what's dying. It's a tunnel to walk through. I've walked it before. I am between cycles, still terrified of the repercussions of going ahead with what lies ahead of me.
This needs to end today, though. Any doubt I may have about my ability to see this through comes from what he taught me about myself which has nothing to do with the reality of my capabilities and strength. It will never be any different.
How did it take me ten years to get here?