Getting the Hell Out - A Memoir is about my successful pursuit of happiness after escaping a life besieged by sexual (my early childhood), physical, psychological and financial abuse.
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For as long as I could remember, Isis and Suchus never voluntarily used our landline or house phone. It was a deeply entrenched and controlling house rule that was instinctively obeyed. So strictly was the rule followed that my children subconsciously ignored the sound of the phone ringing altogether.
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With a familiar chime, an incoming text was announced. Careful not to disturb the teenaged occupants of my room, I reached for the phone charging on the night stand. At 7:13pm, one glance confirmed the sender to be Dolus who after eleven hours of travel conveyed a singular, hollow message, "Here." Only, "Here." Not even a, "How are the kids holding up? Please tell them that I love them so very much." Just, "Here."
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Approximately 7 years ago, before I began working with a therapist, the speed at which I was loosing myself to absurdity increased exponentially. It seemed that I was being told I was crazy in a rather orchestrated manner. I began to think I was crazy. Was I crazy? I couldn’t be. I just couldn’t be.
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Societal norms tend to suggest that a men are all powerful beings capable of ignoring both physical and psychological pain. The only problem with such convictions is that they are clearly debilitatingly false and dangerously life threatening. If you don't believe me, then conduct the following non-scientific, yet "common-sensey" experiment. Just ask a man, any man, if he would deliberately jump into a twenty foot deep, dark, inescapable, swampy pit filled with hundreds of starving fourteen-foot alligators.
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Dolus left our rather tidy beige garage for the last time shortly after 8:30am on Sunday, February 14, 2021. He drove away to officially begin his new life of marital separation in his recently acquired, black, 1990’s era Japanese sedan. Importantly, the official story was that Dolus was relocating in response to his organization’s requirement that he transition from remote to onsite work. His physical presence was needed to fulfill the tasks of his recently acquired, high profile position. According to Dolus, they would no longer extend the courtesy of working from home. His parting became an intentionally and agonizingly drawn-out…
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Of course he would officially exit my life on Valentine's Day. It was his mother’s birthday! Given what I'd always felt was an enmeshed relationship between my soon to be former husband and his mother, it seemed I was being treated to their thoroughly rehearsed and vengefully petty theatrics. It was an understatement to say that my increasingly confident non-compliance and so-called disrespect, along with my audacious and unauthorized reconnection with my family after ten years of self-inflicted (an oddly encouraged) estrangement, had placed a target on my back.
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Happily Ever After Abuse is excited to announce its social media presence. Yay us! It’s a baby presence at the moment, but when it grows up, it’s going to help lots, and lots of people find their way to the same calm, peace and tranquility referenced in the short video below. Please like and subscribe if you see something you like! Enjoy!
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It’s on its way. Stay tuned!
