The Lies of the Enemy

Another day begins with a dark sky, chill air and the sounds of road crews busy making the streets passable, drivable. Scents of coffee fill the air as the blaring of the train horn reverberates through this small town and I sit in contemplation once again. I sat for some time sifting through the layers in my mind and what I would share this morning.

You see, the lies of the enemy, physical and spiritual, sneak into the confines of my thoughts and stir up the peace I have worked hard to attain. Peace despite the attacks; despite the betrayals, despite the cheating, the verbal, mental, emotional and physical beat downs.

Peace despite the continued delusion and mental issues the abuser displays daily in his own life and world round him.

Peace despite the heinous hypocrisy I see written across his world.

Peace despite the need to hurt, maim, torture and disturb that peace.

Gone this morning....are any feelings of warmth and love for someone who so clearly needs to duplicate the things I did when we were together. The need to display the very things he scoffed at, made fun of and now does himself.

Gone this morning....are any thoughts of redemption for the monster that lives a short distance away and yet vast are the miles and miles that separate, when speaking of honour and character.

The man...the monster....the legend in his own mind, and only in his own mind.

Grief would say that he was worth....well... worth something.

I invested time in a human being that best represents the ugliness within, the ugliness without and the blackest of hearts.

I invested time in a person who only understands the need to feed his own ego, feed his dark and perverted desires that border on jail-able offences.

I invested time in an individual who knows only selfish pursuits....even those that others would say are kind deeds, I would speak that the kind deeds are done to gain accolades and feed the ego once again. Nothing is done that doesn't have a plan behind it, a goal in mind beyond lending a helping hand.

All too often I saw him scoff at, get angry at, laugh at those who took the help.

All too often I heard him say 'never again' for those particular people. He despised them, even while using the moment to elevate himself. The contempt, the thought that they were somehow lesser than because they accepted the helping hand.

You notice here that I do not use the term 'man' to describe the monster I ran from. Not a man, rather a monster, disguised as a man.

Nothing is done as a man...everything is done as a child....thought of as a child and carried out as a child.

Petty, small minded, mean child in a mans body. The Childs mind has been corrupted and distorted and twisted until it is no longer recognizable. He allowed his pain, his trauma as a young boy to twist him into the monster he is today. He allowed the pain to propel him onto a path of hurting others before they hurt him, all in a bid to give pain back to the ones he called parents. Everything is done in revenge for the horrible memories he sustained as a child within that household.

We, the discarded women littering the path of his life, were handy punching bags for the pain and anguish still present within.

He, seeks justice...seeks recompense for the child that lives in his heart and in his mind.

He, seeks pleasure to distract from the pain and ugliness inside...seeks validation for his shrivelled up...ego.

A dark, bent, gnarled and hardened ego.

Please hear my heart this morning dear friends....I believe in redemption....I believe in second, third, fourth chances...and I believe in a God who loves seventy times seven into infinity. He never gives up....and thank God for that.

However...for this lone woman sifting through the dross, through the litter, scattered and battered, throughout my heart and mind... I have given up on thoughts of redemption for the monster that lives down Drury Lane...

One day....I believe this with all my heart and it grieves me greatly...

....one day I will run into the abuser and see an old man, deadened by a life of bitterness and resentment, still seeking happiness and never finding it. I will see someone so far past hope as to already be in the dirt, in the ground.

And it saddens me yet again. It saddens me that such a beautiful child of God could come to such an end, by his choice and his choice only.

The choice was made 40 years ago to never feel the agony of being a victim, ever again.

Instead, the choice was made to make others the victims...

The victims of his rages....

The victims of his harmful conduct...

The victims of his betrayals...

The victims of his lies....

The victims of his cheating...

It does not matter that the current supply has nothing whatsoever to do with his past hurts, his past grievances...no, you are a tool and a tool is all you are dear hearts.

A tool to ease his pain until you no longer do.... until the veil is ripped from his face and you see the monster that lives inside. You are no longer a useful tool when he can no longer convince you of his goodness, of his greatness, of his god-likeness....you may laugh but my particular abuser called himself god, called himself my god.

Oh how the mighty have fallen...fallen to copying the creative things I put time and effort into, the creative things I loved and lived for...They have no other recourse, as there is nothing within the monster that could be called spontaneous or creative.

I am so sorry my friends...the grief of realization, of truth is as a blade to the gut.

It burns, it seers....however, in the end...it heals. It cauterizes the wounds sustained while in battle with the abuser. It is the harshest of medicines....truth.

Go with God today dear friends and hold fast to hope, to truth and live again.