Episode 7 My Punishment In The House Of Domestic Terror....

I chat openly about starting my journey to healing...

and read a chapter from my Memoir...Another Reconciliation...

I would absolutely love to hear from you.....

Email... sleeplessingranada@yahoo.com

Thank You for listening ... episode 8 to follow shortly

Transcript

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Hello and a huge big Scottish welcome. It's another Scotcher here today. I'm sitting at my dining table sipping ice cold sparkling water and my mind is at peace. This is episode 7 of Sleepless in Granada. In this episode I'll be chatting about my healing journey. Each and every time I hid my true self and how I really felt, every time I didn't speak up and ask for what I really needed, every time I choked down my anguish, my pain and my tears, I realise now that this was self-abandonment. This is how I protected myself. At the time, I thought I was so weak, but I wasn't. I was scared. In fact, I was terrified. Would I be rejected? Was I asking too much? I was terrified of feeling. Yes, feeling. All that pain that I kept buried way down deep inside, these patterns began in childhood when I didn't get the love and attention I craved, the safety and validation I needed. I protected my little heart by shutting down. This was my coping mechanism that I used to protect my soul, my feelings, my needs, myself. My healing journey began when I started walking towards all these parts of myself with compassion, care and wonder. I listened to that beautiful, amazing little girl inside me, the inner child I had abandoned for so long. I thought that when I grew up, I could leave her behind. I didn't realise that she was part of me, such an important part. Her purity of mind, her innocence, her exuberance, joy, happiness, her laughter and inquisitive nature. She remained quietly in the deepest dark at recesses, waiting, waiting quietly and patiently for me to come back and reclaim her and tell her You're enough, my darling child. You're enough. She didn't deserve this pain. She deserved peace of mind and safety. A determination formed within, and I was going to make sure she got them. My peace of mind began in pain. Before it pacified me, it unraveled me. I could no longer run from my pain. It was so fucking sore. I learned to sit with it. I embraced the inner child. I listened to her. She cared not for perfection. She simply wanted to hear me laugh again, to slow down, to feel again, to believe in myself again and come home. Her pearls of wisdom filled my soul and made me smile. Peace finds you when you least expect it, when you stop running from yourself. Peace is not something you find, it finds you. One day it just happens, you just wake up and it's there. I'm now connecting with my authentic self. Each morning I now look at the woman in the mirror and I tell her, I can do this. I notice that her green eyes are sparkling and alive and that alone makes my soul sing. And now a short piece from Charlotte Freeman. A dear friend sent me this years ago when I was in so much pain and it's called Growth. Isn't it weird how you can experience situations throughout your life that are so heartbreaking or stressful that you can't ever imagine being okay again? Then a few weeks or months or even years later you notice that the days go by without thinking about those times. You can laugh and you can smile and you can go about your day and realise you're so much stronger and happier than you thought you could ever be again. Those bad times might always be in your mind and in your memory or in your heart but somehow you feel at peace with your past and the memories that come don't punch you in the heart like they used to. You realise that in fact you're strong and everyone was saying you were at the time and that you would in fact get through what you went through. Isn't it just amazing how much we can change, how much we can learn, and how much we can grow? And finally, a chapter from my memoir. Another reconciliation. It was our wedding anniversary and I thought it would be extra special to surprise him with a grand gesture. It was more than just a token. It symbolised my hope for us to reconnect, to experience something new and exciting and to enjoy each other's company. I saw billboards all over town advertising Cirque du Soleil. I'd been to see this show several years previously in Las Vegas and they were incredible. For anyone who hasn't heard of them, they're a world famous hybrid circus of acrobats and dance without the exotic animals. That month I had great sales on Vinted, the second hand clothing online platform and decided to splash out on the best front row seats. I didn't mention it to him and was super excited on the morning of our anniversary. I got up extra air Thank you. His reaction literally took my breath away and shattered my elation. What the fuck? How much did these cost? He lashed out like a venomous snake, a real bat at the furious tone in his voice. I stammered, telling him the cost. For fuck's sake, that money could pay the electricity bill. Cancel the tickets now. I told him that I couldn't because I had purchased the tickets online and they had a no refund policy. You and your fucking big ideas. Not a pot to piss in and you spend 300 euros on tickets to a fucking show. The insults just kept on coming and coming. My heart sank. Disappointment and disgust washed over me. I was bereft. His words cut me to the bone. Overwhelmed and confused, I left the room. I tried to stem the flow of hot, wet, sticky tears that appeared from nowhere. I had tried and failed to explain that I thought it would be great to do something exciting, to have fun, like we used to. Before, before, all my pleas fell on deaf ears. He was now in rant mode. I could still hear him from the kitchen downstairs. The tears fell unobstructed. I was again invisible, shrinking, shrinking, shrinking. I craved my cocoon's comfort, where I was suspended, weightless and safe. And now, here was the punishment I received for displeasing him in the house of domestic terror. It was a sweltering 32 degrees in the bedroom. He had turned the aircon on to heat mode. As I sat on my bed, sweat trickling off the tip of my nose, the brutal temperature was like an expansion of the emotional and physical trauma he had just unleashed on me. He controlled the aircon from his mobile. I asked him to please turn the aircon back on, but he refused. Each bead of perspiration that formed was a reminder of his total control. I was suffocating up here in my room. Downstairs on his part of the room, it was cool and comfortable. I turned the heat off from the control panel and the settings back to aircon. He had the remote and switched the heat back on from his mobile. The power play of his cat and mouse tactics was so fucking exhausting. His cruelty continued throughout the day and into the next day too. His actions left me numb, confused and discarded. He tore me apart, devoured me and relished as my significance diminished until all that remained was my quivering, darkened heart. I traced my sweaty fingers across the fragmented edges, but still it beat. My spice for life and for living, now gone. He stole my mind like a thief in the night, yet I continued to love him. I loved him so much. How could this be even possible? I was powerless. I wept like a small child and I mourned the loss. I sank further and further into the safety of my black abyss. Down, down, down. I ran into the loneliness that shrouded and comforted me like a soft winter eiderdown. A few days later, when I emerged from the safety and tranquility of my bubble, I felt stronger. I called my friend and told him I had two tickets for the show. Would he like to attend? Yes, he squealed in delight. The tickets for the show were never mentioned again. I don't know about you, but my way of numbing myself from trauma is to walk or to swim. I decided that I was going to swim every day to build my strength and stamina. I'm not a strong swimmer and was out of practice. I began swimming 10 lengths daily and quickly built up to 120 lengths after two weeks. I was in the pool for hours at a time. It was an escape from my reality, my way of taking back control. Every time I lowered myself into the pool, I felt a mixture of vulnerability and sheer determination. I could feel his eyes boring into my back. He sneered. at my swimming strokes. Then the degrading comments and the snide remarks began. With each comment, it stung me deeply. Every insult sliced through me like a sharp blade. You aren't breathing properly. Your arms aren't outstretched. Close your fingers for fuck's sake. Your leg movements are ridiculous. And on he sneered. Move it, move it, move it. For God's sake, you look like something from the fat club. This was his derogatory way of describing my aqua aerobic class. If you're going to swim, at least give it some vigour, he yelled. Come on. Although I was crying inside, I didn't let him know. Despite his attempts to undermine and thwart me, I swam on and on. The pool was my sanctuary. With each stroke, not only did I tread water, but I pushed him away too. I remember after being berated for about five or six days, I stood up after completing 50 lengths and said, Well, come on then. If you can do better, show me I dared. Come on, do it. He dived into the pool and emerged breathless after only five lengths. I tried to stifle my laugh. You narcissistic prick, I muttered under my breath as I continued to swim. And so my existence continued. My world of imagination took over. My dreams for the future were boundless. It saw me through my darkest days and even darker nights. I continued to make plans to leave, recording all his abuse and journaling. I miss the woman who used to live here, you know. She was so full of energy, so vibrant. She was such fun and spontaneous too. Her laughter was never far from our mouth. She was kind and a great friend and confidant. The kitchen was her stage. She danced and sang terribly out of tune as she prepped the day's meals. Her off-key notes had all and sundry laughing out loud, covering their ears to stop their ears from bleeding. She would twirl and shake her booty. She didn't have a care in the world and she didn't care who saw and who heard her. She was in her happy place. She even taught the dogs to sing, you know. I loved her and her child. She radiated joy and happiness. And then one day she was gone. She vanished into thin air without warning. She didn't tell me where she was going or if she would ever return. I could never find her. I searched for her high and low and I missed her so, so much. I often wondered if we'd meet again. It was a very lonely time for me. I was isolated and very alone. Unbeknown to him, I began to hide supplies. If he did an inspection, he would indeed see that we were running short of this and that and everything. I became very good at the art of deception. I was in survival mode, on high alert at all times, constantly on edge, anxious and afraid. Yet inside, my strength continued to grow. I was planning yet again to divorce him. Thank you for listening. I would love to hear from you. Email me at sleeplessingrenada at yahoo.com. Episode 8 to follow.