This is the story of when he was last here (May 2015). I will write what I am able to here and there. This visit was followed by starting a blog and meeting all of you wonderful, supportive friends. It also started a wave of anxiety and panic that I have been trying to recover from for the past year. Thank you for your support and caring!
The visit part 2
Flying down the hall felt surreal, a swift reminder of why I had made few attempts at standing tall, holding dearly to the parts of me that still remained. Years spent groveling, kowtowing and doing whatever was needed to keep this turbulent storm under control had now spiraled into an unstoppable rage.
My cheek had narrowly missed clipping the bedroom door as I tripped and stumbled aimlessly down the hall. His hand grabbed my shirt again and forcefully threw me further into chaos. The warm and gentle brown eyes that had left an indelible mark on my heart, were now blank, cold and formidable. It was a look I had learned to fear, biting my lip and scratching pieces of ragged skin on my cheek had become the only way to stop unwanted tears that mockingly fell to the floor.
Bits and pieces of fear, strength and panic coursed through my mind as I gathered myself, preparing for reality to meet fiction in one swift moment. I ran haphazardly trying to keep my feet steady on the floor, feeling the fury that followed close behind and knowing that the moment had finally come. Years of anxiety and terror had now come to a conclusion and all at once my heart felt as if it would sink and I would give up, crumbling into the person he had ascribed to me.
As I toppled into the living room a strong determined voice called out, a young thin figure, wet hair dripping onto the floor stood before me. She raised her voice and shouted boldly, years of being told to stand, wait and silently watch now discharged into words, “What are you doing!! STOP!