Written between 2013-2014


Part 1:

Written before restraining order, when my life was divided into times when I either fled my home after an assault or to escape one, or chose to stay away for an extended period (as I did one summer) to recoup from a sexual assault:


I am writing after a sleepless night...I dread returning to a home that is not a home for me.  I dread rooms without peace.  A place where shadows mix with light, and the light is the voices and footfalls of children. And the shadows...they are the detritus of dark thoughts and dark intentions that derail youth.  What is a mother to do...this was the house she built for her babies...and this is the house that wounded them.  What is a wife to do when she is never understood, when she is resented for taking time away to strengthen herself. What is a woman to do when she gave everything for a family...and the family is broken.  I know the inner scars of my children with the same familiarity as my own c-section scar, a thin, white line that marks an emergency that cut through all my layers of muscle to yank out life before it was too late.  I know my children's needs, their vulnerabilities, their strengths, perhaps even their call, just as I know when they are hungry or sick, need a tender touch, or a boost towards the goal.


Part 2:

Written after Restraining Order, now able to live (somewhat) peaceably in my own home:

Today I am sitting on my daughter's bed in a quiet home.  It is a late afternoon in spring and I can hear the birds chirping in the maple tree outside her window.  The house has settled into a kind of peace.  I wouldn't say it is total because my mother-in-law lives in the apartment below and she resents the boundary I created for my family, the legal protection that removed her son from our home.  She no longer speaks to me and since I filed the emergency restraining order has managed to avoid interacting with me, even though we live at the same address.  In the last few months she's spoken with her grandchildren only a few times and if they want her attention they must seek her out.  She also owns the home (we rent the upstairs apartment) which makes it a very uncomfortable situation.

I am trying to get my life in order, find work while also continuing to push my writing out into the world, screenplays and a novel.  My children need frequent counseling appointments and support to finish up the school year.  Everything is trying to settle into a new order.  It's as if I re-broke a bone in order to set it right and the pain is great.  The healing process may take longer than expected too.  The outside world isn't always patient or understanding of the courage and perseverance it takes to remove abuse and fight for peace.  The road is full of potholes and unexpected fallen branches from the years of storms that ravaged our family.  We just have to keep going, despite the rough ride.

I doubt myself all the time...maybe that's normal, but I am going to keep on going, because the alternative, going backwards, is just not an option.