For about a week now, I am having the same recurring nightmare. With minor variations, but the same thing every night. I am back with my violent ex-husband. He is being violent. My daughters are with me, sometimes my son too, but always my daughters, they are little, they are wearing pretty little nightgowns. I have to get them to safety. Through tremendous peril. In my dreams, I haven’t gotten out yet. I wake up and look around and thank God from the bottom of my heart that I got out. That I have a nice, honest, clean life. I am no longer sharing a bed with someone who steals from me, sabotages me, and tries to kill me.
Twenty years later. I think it took twenty years for my psyche to know that I am safe enough to think about this. And that’s OK. I am safe enough to think about this. I am feeling well and secure and not terribly afraid.
I cannot believe I lived through that experience. I remember one time shouting “HELP” out the window because he would not let me leave. That night, he had already broken my wrist and caused other, less serious, injuries – but he wasn’t done with me yet. I finally broke away, got out of the house, and walked miles on a dirt road before someone took pity on me and drove me to the hospital.
Today my life is a dream of paradise compared with this hell I lived.
Thank you Lord!
I will sing of your mercies O Lord, for ever; with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations. For your merciful love was established for ever, you faithfulness is firm as the heavens. — Psalm 89:1-2