When I broke up with James (a story for another day) and after I got a temporary order of protection against him (yes, another day), followed by an order of the court (way another day), I spent hours and hours in the backyard pulling weeds. It was nearly the only thing I could to bring myself to do beyond the basics of making dinner, doing dishes, laundry and such.
My son and daughter helped me put together two raised beds that we filled with green, lovely hope.
Tomatoes, tomatillas, edamame, lettuce and a pumpkin in this one. I guess we weren’t counting on them getting so big.
Basil, cilantro, sunflowers, bee balm, pineapple and salvia.
I’ve been told that after ending an abusive relationship, the survivor is left in a state of complete confusion, as I absolutely am. I don’t always know which end was up as I was so used to my every part of my life being controlled and manipulated. I can barely remember who I am or what I like or how to fill any quiet time. My backyard has become a refuge and a place to get lost and remember, well, me.
I am grateful for every day that I have lived James-free but the hurt I deal with can be unbearable at times. (Yes, I have found myself crying uncontrollably on the floor.) He did real and lasting damage to my head and to my heart. Understanding that this was his intention all along only adds to the pain. Knowing he’s off finding his new supply, as all good sociopaths do, makes me sick. I try very hard not give in to these feelings, though. I will keep planting and work to remember the girl I once was.