Justice, but only on TV

I watched an episode of “Saving Grace” last night on Netflix streaming. I’m new to the show — I don’t have TV, so I don’t see much in the way of current programming.

On the episode I watched last night, the main character of Grace (a cop in Oklahoma City) — played by Holly Hunter — confronts the retired priest who sexually molested her as a child. She’s tempted to kill him, she’s so angry. Instead, she sort of torments him for a while. She elicits a confession out of him, not just about the abuse he inflicted on her but on several other children.

She arrests him, he hires a lawyer and gets out on bond.

Within about a day, someone shoots and kills him on the street. We learn at the end of the show that he was killed by another now-grown child who was abused by him, not by Grace.

Although she is pretty dang happy about him being dead.

I don’t wish anyone dead. I do wish for justice, though. I won’t get it. Instead, my daughter and I will continue to live with the after-effects of horrific abuse, trying as best we can to move forward each day.

Trying, trying, trying to listen

It is SO difficult for me to listen to my own inner voice. It’s as if she vanished the day the abuse started, and I simply can’t find her again.

Sometimes I think I hear her, and then she fades like smoke.

This is the most frustrating thing I have dealt with since finishing the trauma therapy, is not being able to tune in my own voice long enough to get a sense of what I really want and need in my life.

Instead, I find myself going back and forth between ideas and never settling on anything, mostly because I just don’t know what I want. Even when I get very still and quiet, I STILL can’t hear myself.

DAMN it.

Out of my comfort zone

I did what I said I would do, which is confront someone — my husband, actually. I told him how I was feeling, and he listened. More importantly, he heard me. I hope we can rectify the situation in which we now find ourselves. He told me everything will be OK, and I really want to believe him.

On the WaterfrontLast night, I went out of my comfort zone again. I attended a fun outdoor movie event (pictured here) with some women I met through a friend. I had to fight against feeling guilty for being out at night without my husband. It’s really hard for me to tell where this feeling is rooted. I think it’s rooted, still, in the domestic violence I dealt with in my first marriage. But I am trying very hard to improve — save, really — my current marriage, and I keep wondering if time away from my husband is a good idea, even in small doses.

The thing is, I really enjoyed myself last night. And it wasn’t because my husband was at home, and not with me. It was just ME, enjoying myself and being in that moment, which is so difficult for me to do.

This may sound silly, but I don’t want to end up feeling like Terry Malloy in the movie: “I coulda been somebody.” I want to be somebody, too.

Another lesson for me

As a survivor of domestic violence, and one who has been through trauma therapy, I have to be aware of a lot of my behaviors. I need to recognize when, for example, I’m subjugating my own needs in order to avoid conflict.

That’s what I’ve been doing lately. I didn’t realize it until yesterday, after a heated discussion with my daughter. She wasn’t angry with me — she was angry about something else that involves me, though. And I realized that, in part, my own behavior has been contributing negatively to this situation.

So I need to rectify it. I need to be brave enough to confront someone. I’ll do it with love, care and respect. But I absolutely must assert myself and not try to bend and twist myself so someone else is more comfortable. In this particular situation, the cost of that “comfort” is too great, for me and even for the other person. It’s damaging our relationship, not helping it.

Wish me luck.