Abuse Hides in the Dark. Turn on Your Light.

I’m Always Saying Something Stupid

woman with her finger over her mouth giving the 'be quiet' sign, presumably before you say something stupid

The boys and Will are outside changing the oil in the car. I’m in here sneaking a cigarette. Yuck. I want to quit, but quitting seems to be adding to this depressing way I’ve been feeling. It’s probably the winter blahs because I really don’t have anything to complain about.

[I remember Will constantly telling me that I didn’t have anything to complain about. I’d say I was lonely or tired or sad and he would get angry and tell me “You have it so fucking good and you don’t even know it! You don’t have a damn thing to complain about!”]

My smoking I don’t like. I get lonely around here sometimes, but instead of being happy when Will comes home, I usually end up saying something stupid. [Why would I only blame myself, I wonder…having no friends or contact with adults other than Will (isolation) adds to my willingness to believe his perceptions over mine.]

He has been very helpful and loving. He took care of the kids Sunday when I was the sickest. He has overlooked a hundred things I’ve only done halfway.

I want to go to the doctor and talk about how I’ve been feeling, but the $10 co-pay doesn’t seem justified. Maybe I should talk to Will about it on the way to his dad’s today – I don’t know. [The depression is getting out of hand. I’m considering bringing up my feelings to Will again. That hasn’t worked out well for me in the past. And $10? Really? It’s a doctor visit for crying out loud.]

I love my boys but I feel like I’m not doing it right. I love Will but feel the same way. I should write to my sister too. I miss her. [Feeling I can’t “do it right” comes from my abuser’s constant nit-picking and condemnation.]

this post is an excerpt from Kellie Jo Holly's book