It's the first evening of english literature, while I'm never worried about classes like this, the last thing I want to do is arrive late to the first day.
At the moment it's starting to look like I'm arriving late to the first day.
I got the four small humans where they needed to be, snuck in boyfriend kisses, got a caffinated beverage (or two) and was on my way. Bookbag is packed. Hair is brushed. No make-up. I can't look someone in the eye when mine are watering from misguided drops of mascara or eyeliner.
I park at the far end of campus. When you get too close to the start time everything close to the building turns into a war zone. I'll run to make up my time before I'll pay for a college rage induced fender bender. They can have it.
A sigh of relief rushes over me as I get through the double doors. Officially inside. Unfortunately I've forgotten that the honor society I'm being inducted into next week is doing a meet and greet for the hour leading up to my class. There are 6 minutes left. I still haven't found my new classroom. Exasperated, I accept my fate. I cannot just walk by this advisor to then face him next week. I am wearing red pants...I doubt my stealth. I remember Mr. Frisbee from his emails. The fact that his last name mirrors that of the novelty beach toy also helps to stick it to my brain. It was a crash meeting, but he seems pleasantly surprised that I took the time to say hello and already knew his name. He gives me a little black box. I am undoubtedly welcome. I walk down the hallway just long enough for him to not see me hit a dead sprint. Three minutes left to have my ass in that seat of that classroom I still haven't found.
Low and behold, the mechanic and campus police are around the bend. While it's not mandatory to stop and say hello, I feel obligated. Through crap weather, or sketchy people out in the parking lots, I can honestly say that these are the good guys. Intrigued with the mail jeep last semester they approached me, asking if I was there on work business or personal business. They couldn't believe someone with federal experience would want to come to college, especially when I have to drive through the worst of the north weather to get there. I am too young to be a mail carrier forever I laugh. If they only understood. Very few have time for that story though.
We exchange our friendly welcome back jokes. It is good to see friendly faces. During the evenings of my government class last semester I would see the mechanic weaving in and out of empty rooms. Typical maintenance I'm sure, nothing horrible, but it always made me feel sad. You'd never know it in a conversation, but to watch someone when they think they're alone, you pick up the details. I think he missed someone. I know I do when I'm here all week.
Room 215. I've made it with one minute to spare. Little did I know that chaos was about to ensue. I should've realized it once I figured out the girl seated in front of me was the actually professor of the evening. She finds that it's easier to analyze people when they are surrounded by a group of their peers with no apparent supervision. Not bad...dual Master's degree with honors woman. I'm fairly impressed with the work she puts into depth reading. We play two truths and a lie. I actually giggle inside, who plays this?!? The 19 year old boy in the back of the room lies about his favorite color, the girl next to him lies about how many sisters she has. I am a train wreck of truths. Which happens to make you a Queen at this game.
I have four daughters, I'm at risk for a terminal illness, I've been to rehab.
Maybe I should've worn the make-up.
Strangers are more likely to believe I've done drugs than had babies.
"There's no way you're that old." (Maybe I should've counted the twins as one)
We analyze poems about suicide and depression. The class, all in all, will be a success. I can work with this. She ends class and I finally have time to open my little black box from honors advisor, Mr. Frisbee. It is simple. The shine makes it beautiful. I attach it to my Jeep keys and throw my ever growing book bag over my shoulder.
This was worth the rush. My life is worth the rush. People, as a whole, are worth the time.
I wanted you to know-
I doubted myself today. For about fifteen minutes. I still managed to get myself together and not lower into the black abyss of what life used to be day in and day out. I've said it before and I'll say it forever.Verbal abuse IS domestic abuse. Physical altercations count as well but, when those happen you could call for help and they give you a fancy stack of pink papers to use as justification for restraining orders.
My cellphone is the only place he can go now to tear me apart. I tried to warn the others. I then got accused of jealousy. The abuser never changes. Only the victim. It's a cyclic chain of abuse. I hope they know it's not just them. It was me too.
My college major is in government. I am not learning for the money. I am learning for the people. Our people. I believe that if you're doing your job in society honestly then there's no way to get rich off of such a career field. Women need help. Good men need protection. But there are so many girls living in situations you'd never want to see them in if you were their parent. My girls deserve better. My friends deserve better. I don't even know her, but the woman sitting next to me on the train deserves better.
I try to lead an open life so that you'll feel like you can too. I do not need anyone following me that doesn't genuinely want to. Being a source for the enemy makes you a traitor. Nobody likes a traitor. Besides maybe other traitors.
People only have as much power and credit as you decide to give them. I am overjoyed to be back. To be honest I don't even know how I ever lived that way or why. I promise my life is not simple and rainbows and butterflies don't shoot out my windows every morning. But if I can recognize what's right and what's wrong I'm hoping that it will give you the strength to do it too. While I have an incredibly busy life to live I am still dealing with a narcissist. Your abuser doesn't have a problem with his anger. He has a problem with your anger. One of the basic human rights he takes away from you is the right to be angry with him. No matter how badly he treats you, he believes your voice shouldn't rise and your blood shouldn't boil. The privilege of rage is reserved for him alone. When your anger does jump out of you, he is likely to jam it back down your throat as quickly as he can. Then he uses your anger against you to prove what an irrational person you are. Abuse will make you feel straight jacketed. You will start developing physical or emotional reactions to swallowing your anger. Such as, depression, nightmares, teeth grinding, emotional numbing, eating and sleeping issues, all of which your partner will use as an excuse to belittle you further and make you out as the crazy, insane one.Do you remember the story about the dog that got put to sleep?
As a puppy and through it's young life, the man kicked it daily. It became so frightened that even the man walking into the room caused the dog to soil the floor. After a couple years though the dog finally started to grow tired of this. When the man pulled his steel work boot back to kick the dog, the dog lunged and grabbed hold of the back of his knee. He latched on with all his might and what spirit he had left until the warmth of blood soaked his jowls.
The owner literally chucked the dog into the bed of his truck and drove him to the nearest vet. Taking no time to tend to his wound during his rage spree, he used it as evidence that this violent, nasty, rotten dog needed to be put down as a service to the public. He denied ownership of it. He had no idea where it came from, or why it chose to attack him. Seeing how he never properly cared for the dog it didn't even have a record, let alone the proper shots and treatments. No one claimed the dog on the radio. His three days were up. With a heavy and confused heart, the vet inserted the death cocktail. He seemed like such a nice dog. It is too bad that he had to bite that man.
"Not today, life.
I will not be a victim today."
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