I think back to the days when life was supposed to be free and easy. The time when innocence was sweet and gentle. That time was so long ago that it eludes my memory. Many of my early memories shattered that innocence. Fear, intimidation, violence shaped much of my world. This was a time when the people I would look to for protection, were either eerily silent or they were the perpetrators of my nightmares. I cant remember the exact moment my friend arrived but I do remember the feeling of strength that he imparted on me. He was a blessing I prayed deeply for. Someone to protect me from the big bad world. He supplied the courage to endure the pain and not crumble under its oppressive weight. In the beginning he made me high with confidence and it let me feel that I could take on all(almost) my enemies. For a time my life was made right. No longer would I be the victim, his support had made me impregnable. He was my Friend and shield. There were glimpses of the other side of his personality which confused me though. I recall the time when I lashed out at others who I deemed inferior. I was able to reconcile this because I had now become more popular. I seemed to have the respect I had so long desired. People were no longer picking on me, they actually liked me, or so I thought. It took some time but eventually the people who liked me before my friend had come along, no longer wanted any part of me. They seemed truly nervous or scared to associate with me. Again, I was able to ignore the signs that my new found friend may actually be a foe. Daily we worked together, me on the physical and he on the mental. I was sharpening my skills as a fighter and rather than just using them for defense I now initiated more contact. I was a spear, powerful, deadly. I exacted revenge on individuals from the past and shared my new found power with some new people. It has been many years since my friend entered my life, though he is still here we rarely hang out anymore and when we do it is usually on our own time. I now hang out with some new friends. :)
I listened to this on the way home today and thought it was appropriate for the post. Enjoy.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Interesting perspective. Hope you have found some peace....
Lisa
Lisa
I have had peace for years. Thanks for the concern though. :)
My mother is dying. In my life she was the eerily silent. My father is gone. His last words to me were to grip my arm fiercely and tell me that he'd always been on my side. I never felt that. The last time that he hit me, I was 43 years old and he gave me a bloody nose in front of my children.
My mother is, as I said, dying, and my husband and I went to see her at the hospital. It began, don't you known. Almost right away. It was my fault. I was unforgiving. She went on and on about all the things that I was wrong about. I didn't argue with her. There's no point, and it is what she wants. I walked from there feeling as if I'd done my duty.
Later that night, while we were talking about something else, my husband suddenly said, "You know, I needed to be there today. You always told me how she went on, but I never saw it before." And he gave me a hug.
I'm just curious. Were you able to salvage the relationship, or was it broken?
Debby
Thanks for sharing. My father died when I was a baby. My abuser was my older brother. He committed suicide at 25yrs old, a long time ago. In a bizarre way he apologized when I was 20yrs old. He started a fight with me and I ended up beating the crap out of him. It wasnt until years later I realized he didnt really fight back. I guess he knew no other way but the violent way. Go figure. I am still on the mend. Thanks again.
Post a Comment