Bad Romance

I woke up from my nap today literally singing Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance. I had been dreaming strange things, but nothing frightening or bad. My brain is still processing the death of my exhusband and this song came out just as I was having my awakening after surviving the horrors he put me through. For the last few years it has been a comfort to me in ways, because I do not live down to the lyrics. The catchy tune was there to be a stress reliever when I needed it. It was my anthem to not return to the abuse, to not trust his platitudes through my door, and that the fears that I felt were valid. It was the musical reminder that I had survived.

I have been thinking today about all that I have survived. I cannot list it because my hand, recently injured but healing, won’t last that long and while my health has never recovered from his abuses and never will my mind has. Without knowing he was dead I had begun to push myself, because I decided to live. I went to the mall we used to frequent. It was his favorite place and I needed things. Instead of just getting what I needed and bolting I went through the entire mall and had fun with it with my carer. I even went into the bookstore. We made a day of challenging my PTSD while rewarding the impulse. I found things I would have bought online for four times as much, which for me is a reward. Apparently frugality is all I need? Frugality and dolls.

In those struggles and the darkest moments when I couldn’t even go out my own front door, I found my willingness to live. I was never willing to let him imprison me in this home because of fear. It wasn’t about him winning, but it was about being alive. I felt free of him before I knew he died and the freedom feels all the sweeter because I overcame those emotional things that I could. I will never sleep with my door unchained or unlocked, but I will go out more. Being afraid is exhausting.

I may date again, I may not. All I know is that the end of that last Bad Romance merits a playing of the song one more time. I am trying to remember why I fell for him and I can. That easy charm, saying the things I needed to hear on an emotional level and even the cats liking him. I wonder where that man went, but even him I do not mourn. I find myself mourning for his children. Not because of their father dying but because of the pain I know is in their lives. In the end though, it is a party at my house. Ra ra ra!

Advertisements

2 Comments

  1. Songs can be very cathartic. Pink’s song “There You Go” came out just before I got a divorce, and I used to sing it at karaoke all the time because it made me feel better. My ex wasn’t so much physically abusive (although he did slap me, and punch walls) as emotional and psychologically abusive. Right until the day we were legally married, he was super charming. The minute we married, he started in with the slut shaming and the hurtful remarks about my body type. He also lied about important things like wanting children.

  2. I do not think you should downgrade your abuse, because at least to me being hit just once is once too many. I am glad you survived and I love that song. That is one of my “I am a powerful woman and I will not take your shit” songs. That is the actual name of the playlist. I do not understand why but a lot of abusive men lie and hide who they are until they are married. I don’t quite get what makes things change in marriage other than the difficulties of actually divorcing but I doubt that is it.


Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

  • Polls

  • Ye Olde Archives of Fury

  • Top Rated

  • Top Clicks

    • None