The Undoing

Empty. Blank. Gone. All that remained was broken fragments of a life that once was. Horrifying memories and emotions of constant struggle seemed to define my very existence. Gone were the days of busy school nights and saturdays used to create memories. This new reality was bitter, draining and painful. Who was I becoming? Looking in the mirror my reflection was one only seen in nightmares. Dark circles, disheveled hair, unkempt clothes and a thin frame. I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me. A friend kept me company through these days of utter despair and after while mentioned to me that seeking professional help was necessary because they had no more comfort to give. My situation was not improving and day after day I laid awake in my own agony. Drowning. Before this I experienced loss on a great level, my parents were deceased since I was a child, in 2010 the father of my oldest children was murdered. So I’m no stranger to heartache but this was crippling. Most of my life, my peers and family would comment on how strong I was but in this state all I felt was weakness. Where had my strength gone? How would I reclaim the belt of resilience? I didn’t even know how I had gotten to this point. I knew that I wanted to be better for my children and because I was lost in a constant fog, I took the advice and sought help, professionally. After my initial consultation which to this day remains a blur, the therapist recommended that I be admitted to an inpatient mental facility. Somehow, I remember driving to the facility. I was alone. I was afraid. I kept thinking “does this mean I’m crazy”... “what did I say that would warrant this treatment”. At that time, inpatient treatment seemed like an extreme measure. Something reserved for the truly insane. I guess these were the faint whispers of the old resilient me. I didn’t feel genuinely insane, I felt victimized. I felt like I had been targeted by an unseen force. My breaking was the result of my mistrust in a person who I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Within the safety of my own home, he behaved like a shadow in the night, violating my trust with every evil deed. These were the images that kept me debilitated because I was left alone in the very home he used as a place to bring misery to my family. I didn’t even go home to pack for my inpatient stay. I couldn’t bear to cross the threshold of my front door and stomach the stench of abuse, deceit, fear, embarrassment and grief. This became the decor of my once lively, love filled home. I couldn’t believe that I had been rendered blind to his deception. Me, the tiger mom, who would never leave her children and yet I was not capable of protecting them although I was no more than a few feet away from them. This was the conversation I was having with myself as I drove in a zombie like state to my only possibility of recovery. I was unsure how this would turn out but I was more afraid of the damage that would be done if I didn’t go because in the absence of hope, all I could see was pain. Intuitively I knew I was at war but I didn’t know then, I was fighting for my soul. And so this was the beginning of “The Undoing”.