Chapter One

My dissolution is finally over, I am numb. I barely function on a day-to-day basis. Sometimes it is hour-to-hour, minute-to-minute. I am so lost. I have no identity—no self-worth—no self-esteem; I have failed. I tried to fix us—him—me, and I could not. I try to tell myself I am better off; but I am scared to death—scared of the unknown— the future; what does it hold? How can I convince myself I deserve a better life when I barely exist in the one I am in? How can I forget or get past the memories of all the violence, abuse, rapes, sodomy, humiliation, the name calling, the degradation of my mind and body, the so-called love—the hate—the sacrifices—the feelings of being unwanted garbage; so much guilt.

I don’t deserve to be God’s child, but thank goodness my being saved long ago did not put me in a place I thought I deserved. My actions have not reflected God’s love, but His grace was there. His grace and love are here now, I just have to reach out, find it, hold onto it, and not let it go. I need something soft and gentle, holding me, lifting me up when I am down in the abyss. Are you there, God, to help me move on and find purpose in this cruel world? I need to cling to that, at least. I hope God is still there. I need Him now more than ever.

Can I ever trust a man again with my feelings, my body, my life, my interests, my goals—my vulnerability? I feel so violated. So betrayed. Bob took all of me and spit out the pieces. Pieces shattered beyond recognition. Would I ever find myself? If I did, would I even like myself? What am I made of? My self-esteem is shattered in tiny broken bits, scattered like leaves in the fall after a storm. I feel so worthless. From far back, many, many times pieces were torn from my soul. Would I ever fit them back together again? Would the scars heal? Can I ever believe I am worthy of love and respect and forgiveness? I need God’s gift of forgiveness. How will I ever know I have it? I need to forgive myself, too. How do I do that? Where do I look for answers? How do I protect myself from it happening all over again? How will I know if it starts happening again? Where will the warning signs come from? I don’t ever want anyone to control me again! Please help me make better choices. Help me trust my intuition and have an open mind, especially when someone warns me. I just didn’t listen to the people that warned me about, Bob. I was on a mission. I was going to be the “perfect wife.” for my “perfect husband.” Ha! That didn’t happen. Old Bob chose me, didn’t he, God? So did Charlie. I was their prey and their victim. I was a good one. I know You let us make our own choices regarding things of the heart. Help me in the future to make better decisions from logic and reasoning; not from my giddy, yearning heart. My giddy, yearning heart still loves him, even hates him for what he put me through. But there again, the hole is so deep, the wounds and scars are so vivid. Help me with time, Lord. They say, “Time heals all wounds.” I’m not so sure. My wounds and scars are really raw, sore, bitter and aching right now. Help me out of this darkness; please?

Every day was a battle with my inner most feelings; feelings of depression and rejection, yet I clung to the faint glimmer of hope. My mind was split in two. One side said, “You are worthless.” The other side said, “Keep going, at least for Caesar’s sake. He needs you.”

I thought maybe the wine would help me relax in the evenings; it did for a while, during the consumption, and then the memories came back; all the time—every night—every day. I was on another emotional roller coaster that never seemed to stop going up and down, day in and day out. So many times the darkness was so much more comforting than the light. I sat in the dark a lot in the evenings, going over and over so many things. So many wrong choices I made in my life. If it had not been for Caesar and Peaches, and the kindness of the MacIntyre’s, I really saw no need to go on in this life. I gave up hope of ever finding my daughter. Why would she have anything to do with a mother who abandoned her? I pray she had a good and a happy life, and good parents. Maybe when I am older I could somehow try in some way to find her, but I have no clue where to start. Another place in time— perhaps.