ellie-mae11 - Tumblr blog

[ellie-mae11]

One of my biggest fears is that I've become like him. I don't want to ever stop being giving, empathetic, and trusting. Those strategies that I learned to use to survive-i don't want it to be who I am. I don't want to be with people, friends, family, or romantic partners, who I feel like I have to hide my feelings from, who I have to either agree with or argue with, who I tell what they want to hear just to get through the day. Isn't that my own kind of manipulation? Living a life that is a lie, emotional dishonesty, emotional distance? And in the end, flat out lying to survive. Lying so that I could make my escape plans, so that I could talk to my friends. It's not who I want to be. But it's who I had to be for a while. And maybe that makes me bad too.

[ellie-mae11]

I got gas today. Seems simple and inconsequential. But I went to THE gas station. The one that played a part in my getting out. They let me use their phone when mine was dead and I didn't have a charger or my wallet. I would have otherwise had no way of calling anyone for help. I had no money to buy a charger because he didn't let me have my things when he left that weekend. Not my phone charger, or my wallet, or even my medicine. Not that I could have made a purchase without him knowing about it. He always knew every time I spent money anywhere. The fact that I was spending money on a charger would have been okay. But the fact that I would have been spending money at a gas station across town wouldn't have been. He would have wanted to know what I was doing there and how I had gotten there. An entire series of events had to work in my favor for me to go see the property that day. But they DID work in my favor, albeit with a few bumps in the road and several miles of walking around an unfamiliar town. So here I am, 4 months later with a new rental lease and a new lease on life- safe and sitting in the gas station parking lot and wondering if that employee still works there-the one who broke the rules and let me use the phone. If I thought I could recognize him, I'd go in to thank him. I was scared that day-everything is a blur. But I will always think of that as MY gas station.

[ellie-mae11]

It’s been a little hard these past few days with it being the holiday season and being away from from my kids.  But I think that all things considering, I am doing pretty well.  I have been so blessed.  I have an amazing family and really great friends.  I am so grateful to be surrounded by people who know me for me and for some reason, still love me anyways.  I joined a Facebook support group for survivors of emotional abuse.  Honestly, I mostly just ignore the notifications because it’s a little hard to see so much of what my life used to be like.  But one thing I have noticed today is that a lot of people are struggling with missing their abuser this time of year.  And that’s what prompted me to write this post.  I am really lucky.  I DON’T miss him.  I feel like I stayed so long and tried so hard to do everything I could to make things be good that by the time I finally left, there weren’t any good feelings left for him.  I don’t want him to be miserable and unhappy, but I also don’t want him to have anything to do with me and my life anymore.  And for that, I am really grateful.  On top of all the hard things happening right now, that is one emotional battle that I do not have to fight.

[ellie-mae11]

True Love

I used to believe in fairy tales.

Not the kind with magic godmothers

Or forever long hair that united lovers.

But I believed in falling in love.

In a power so strong that life lost meaning without it.

I believed that a person could feel like time stood still

With just a smile from a special someone.

I thought that falling in love was the ultimate goal of life.

It turns out I was right.

My one true love is me.

[ellie-mae11]

I never would have been beautiful enough.

I could have spent all of my time at the gym.

I could have stopped eating.

I could have straightened my hair every day

And always waxed my legs.

Do my make-up just right.

Spend more money on foundation

Remove every mole you hated so much.

Grow my nails out.

Wear jeans all day with frilly tops and high heeled shoes

With my toenails painted cute.

I could have smiled at all the right times

And shown just the right amount of emotion.

Turned into the perfect trophy wife.

It never would have been enough.

Because while you wanted all that,

You also wanted someone to cook and clean.

Give you back rubs every day,

Do my work and yours,

Take care of the kids.

Pull all nighters to get it done

But then never be tired.

Someone to vent to but never vent.

Never have feelings

Someone to agree with you all the time

Without opinions of my own.

Someone to do what you said without question.

I never would have been beautiful enough.

I tried.

It didn’t make me pretty.

Or more worthy.

Or a better wife or person.

It didn’t make me more love-able.

It didn’t magically make you adore me.

Or want to kiss me or hold my hand.

It didn’t make you stop yelling.

All that happened was that I lost myself trying.

[ellie-mae11]

It's the little things that make life.

The sound of the birds as they sing out their greetings.

Leaves rustling in the breeze- whispering the secrets of all things seen.

The way clouds change color with every movement of the sun-lazily floating adrift, painting patterns for children to decipher as they giggle in the car.

The first dandelion of the season, and the last, and every one in between. Grown up reminders to slow down and dream of things to come. Wishes floating away on the breeze, off to a place where dreams come true.

The green of the ferns as they grow along the river-teasing of something exotic.

The heat on my skin and the orange on my eyelids as I bask in the summer sun.

The deer, the moose, the geese, the eagles that I get to watch on my drive everyday.

The mountains-so majestic and bold-that shine brilliantly in the morning light.

The dancing colors of cardinals and finches as they scavenge from tree to tree.

The squirrels that play as they work-not a care in the world.

Rabbit prints in the snow-a silent declaration of their presence in the early morning dawn.

The tranquil sound of the river as it meanders across stones and plants.

The sound of a lone cricket as he belts out his forlorn cry for a companion.

The feel of the winter bite on my nose tip-a reminder of the magnificent power of nature.

Watching the sparkle of snow as it floats ever so softly in front of the street lamp.

Dancing lights in the night sky and the feeling of total awe and wonder at the vast greatness of the world.

A message from a dear friend who had no way of knowing I had a bad day.

A hug from someone I trust.

A smile from a stranger.

An invitation to go out.

Sometimes the little things are the big things.

And I am grateful for the little things in life.

[ellie-mae11]

You Can’t Have Both

When I sang along to my favorite songs

You told me I couldn't sing about break ups.

When I danced a little silly as I washed the dishes

You made fun of the way my body moved.

When I joked with my friends the way that girls do

You told me that I was embarrassing myself.

When I talked about you because you're part of my life,

You told me that I had to stop.

But if I didn't talk enough about the good that you do

You told me I needed to start.

If I didn't dress up for you, you asked me why not.

If I wore too much make up, you said I looked better without.

And when at last I went silent,

You told me you wished I was the person I was when we married.

[ellie-mae11]

The Underneath

I found a box today.

It was rusted, old, and worn.

It looked quite insignificant-

Dirty, putrid, forlorn.

I wondered who would keep such a thing?

This massive waste of space.

The splinters, stains, and peeling paint-

A look to incite disgrace.

Upon closer inspection, I find a lock

Made of carbon steel.

The back, engraved with harmful critiques,

And the feelings invoked seem so real.

The sayings sear my heart like fire

With an ache sharp and deep in my side.

I want to leave, but feel urged to stay.

What are those words meant to hide?

I feel drawn to this great mystery.

Something pulls at my soul deep within.

I think I must know or forever will wonder.

At a truth so great it was hidden.

So with utmost care, I begin my quest

To unearth the tale of the chest.

Layer by layer I peel off the wood

'Till I'm slivered, sweaty, and need rest.

And finally when the last piece is gone

I saw something most peculiar.

Another box within the box,

Looking only slightly better.

I seek for the lock and this time find none.

The box has no opening.

My search is in vain, and I feel a great loss

As the contents remain unseen.

I look for a crack, a dent, or a split.

Anything to get in faster.

The more that I search the more that I see

The box is sealed with layers of plaster.

And as I slowly scrape away

It's almost as if I remember

The years over which this box was made

Crafted with calculation and anger.

My fingers turn raw but I feel I must learn

Why this feels like a familiar story.

Though learning is hard and causes me pain

I think it's not fiction-it's memory.

When at last I peel back the last piece,

Using the utmost care,

What I see leaves me feeling confused.

There are mirrors everywhere.

Each one reflects another

An illusion made to deceive.

What is real and what is not?

I can't seem to find my reprieve.

Feeling dizzy and a bit overwhelmed

I seek for something once known.

If I can break through this shifting image

I think the truth will be shown.

Slowly, one-by-one,

And with exceedingly great pains

I pluck the glass away 

Until only one remains.

Suddenly, the image is clear,

And it's beauty beyond compare.

With years of lies and illusions stripped free

It's clear to me what is there.

One mirror left to reflect the truth.

I see eyes and a smile carefree.

The magnificent treasure hiding inside

Are all the lost parts of me.

[ellie-mae11]

Reminders from my 14-year-old self. I think I forgot who I was for a little while. But she was still there all along.

"She strides into the room,

confident, optimistic, and proud.

Enthusiastically, she chooses her seat.

She takes a moment to look around the room and smile at

each person looking her way.

She loves herself and every moment life has given her.

She is you."

[ellie-mae11]

Friendship

I can’t express how grateful I am for the special friendships I have in my life.  I spent years emotionally isolated from those who love me most.  And now, as I am enjoying the freedom to re-establish those relationships, I am filled with so much and gratitude.  They knew things weren’t right.  They all knew.  And instead of giving up on me, they were all there waiting to support me when I was ready for it.  Things are hard right now.  But for the first time in a long time, I feel like I have unlimited support through the hard things.  I feel like I have a safe place to be me, to be human, to struggle.  And the people who are important in my life just love through it instead of making me feel worse for my imperfections.  I don’t have to be perfect.  I am enough just how I am.  I wrote this poem today with these thoughts in mind.

The clap of thunder rumbles on.

A flash of angry light.

Rain pelts down in frantic sheets

Punishing all in sight.

The sorrowful moan of lonely wind

Tells a tale of loss.

Dark transcends as light is blocked.

The joy of day is lost.

A house well built with finest wood

Stands against the storm.

Hours of labor and meticulous work

Yield a house strong and warm.

Inside, I toil as chaos abounds.

I work with inner calm.

Outside, the storm rages on.

Inside, my home is my balm.

The storm is life-it happens that way.

A constant onslaught of hard.

Cruel people, the hurt, the endless pain

Leaves us broken and scarred.

The house-my friends, my family

The people who care about me.

Relationships carefully cultivated

Become my sanctuary.

So life rages on-angry and fast.

I still hear the thunder and rain.

But my shelter, built of friendship and love

Keeps me healthy, happy, and sane.

[ellie-mae11]

Anxiety!

So...I had a little break down today.  Over the smallest thing.  And it’s dumb that it has to even be a thing.  For so many years, I was told how I was supposed to be.  What I was supposed to think and feel and what I was allowed to talk to other people about.  Every time I was sick, tired, or less than perfect, I was treated as though it were a reflection of my worth as a person-as a mother.  I was never enough.  I was treated like an inconvenience.  Like he was the hero for taking care of his “invalid” wife and disabled children all single-handedly.  So today, my dog (guys, I got a dog!) bit her tongue while I was out on a walk with her.  Which is unfortunate, but not a big deal, right? Well, I sat down and cried because I felt like I did something wrong.  Because if HE were here, he’d be calling me an incompetent dog abuser. Just like he did with our children.  I can hear his voice in my head.  I can hear the words.  Because it’s what he did to me for years.  I know that I have a long road ahead of me-learning to trust myself again, learning to listen to the voice of my Father in Heaven instead of HIS, and learning to love all of the good things about myself while working on the things I don’t love so much.  But for the first time in 11 years, I get to be the one to choose what those things are.  And that is an amazing step forward!

[ellie-mae11]

It Continues

From where I stand now, I look back and see all the ways that I could have planned my escape better.  But the truth is, no matter how I got out, no matter the depth of my planning, he still would have found ways to continue to hurt me.  Even now, he is grasping at every means possible to continue to control me--He loves me and misses me.  I’m abusive and manipulative.  Will I give him another chance?  Will I go to therapy with him?  Oh, just kidding, I assaulted him and he is afraid for his safety.  I am a good mom and a beautiful person.  I cheated on him.  I know none of it is true.  But the lies hurt.  And thus, he continues to control me.

[ellie-mae11]

Creative Rants

I’ve always enjoyed writing as a form of self expression.  I stopped writing for a long time.  Usually, I would write something that I felt very proud of, only to read it months later and feel like it sounded really dumb.  I still do that...read old stuff and feel like it sounds childish.  But I don’t care anymore.  Writing is one of the healthiest ways to deal with the heavy feelings.  So I want to share something I wrote when I was going through a particularly rough time.  Although, I probably refer to many moments in my life that way.

The Mask

A porcelain face

Lined with lace

Poised in grace.

The perfect sheen

Squeaky clean

And always seen.

The face decor

Smiles galore

Who needs more?

Put it there

Wear everywhere

Have no care.

Mask in place

Silent race

To save face.

Porcelain face

Stuck in place

My hiding space.

Worn just right

No seams in sight.

Life’s almost right.

Mask of mine

My lifeline

Says I’m fine.

Place with care.

Leave it there,

But I’m nowhere.

Here to stay.

Can’t take away

The fake display.

A porcelain face

Made to chase

Away disgrace.

Neatly tied

There I hide

The tears I’ve cried.

Claims I thrive

Bur merely survive

Barely Alive.

The perfect fraud,

But all applaud

My facade.

There to placate

While I suffocate

In this mask I hate.

[ellie-mae11]

Exhaustion

Imagine telling the mother of a newborn that being tired everyday is a sign that she is mentally ill-depressed.  Imagine telling her that she needs to get on medication to treat those symptoms.  She should also go see a sleep medicine doctor since she's waking up in the night.  If she takes a nap during the day it's further proof that she is unwell.  If she is ever irritable or grumpy it's further evidence that she is sick, unstable, and needs medication.  Imagine the mother of a newborn being told this every day by the person who is supposed to love and support her the most.  She is giving everything that she can.  She already doubts herself as a new mother.  She is adjusting to living on a completely new schedule that no adult could possibly thrive on.

Imagine the mother of 3 special needs children-none of whom sleep well.  She is waking up with them between 4 and 6 times a night.  Every night.  And usually, they don't go back to sleep right away.  She is essentially caring for a newborn baby.  Except the baby doesn't grow out of this sleep cycle and it continues for years.  Imagine the tired mother, constantly told that something is wrong with her for feeling tired. Constantly told that she is unstable.  And when she requests a nap instead of a doctor, she's told that she is neglecting her own health and criticized for not going to the doctor-for being tired. She is so sleep deprived she can hardly function.  And this, of course, is further proof that something is wrong with her.  Would you start to doubt your self worth?  Would you start to believe the voice of your husband, who vowed to cherish and love you always?  She did.  I did.

[ellie-mae11]

Church

My entire life, church has been really important to me.  The center of my life.  I was taught that it was important to not only go to church every week, but to live those beliefs in between church attendance as well.  And at church I was taught the importance of honesty, virtue, kindness, and tyring live as Christ did.  I have been asked more than once how my relationship with God is after all I have been through.  It is a hard question to answer.  My feelings towards God have not changed.  I love Him.  I need Him.  He is my Father.  I trust that things will get better.  My relationship with myself has changed.  My relationship with others has changed.  My trust in the goodness of others has faltered.  And my church experience as a whole has changed.  

I used to LOVE the interactions that I had with others.  Being around other people who believed as I did was important to me.  I valued the relationships that I developed in the women's group at church.  But slowly, all of that changed.  As my interactions with others became more and more controlled, it didn't feel good being around others anymore.  I knew that I would have to regurgitate every detail of every conversation or else risk the wrath of him.  And when I did remember enough details of my conversations to satisfy him that I had not lied about something or left something out, then I had to pass the next test-did everything I said or didn't say meet with his approval?  Did I make him look good enough to my friends?  Did I accidentally say too much about our home life?  Our family dynamics?  It became constant anxiety to try to keep the perfect facade-the perfect balance of saying enough but not too much.  And then, of course, there were the times when I was coached on what I was and was not allowed to say to people.  I had to lie to the people I loved and cared about to keep the image I was supposed to keep.  And that felt awful to me.  I hated lying.  It wasn't me.  It wasn't who I had been taught to be.  

So here I was going to church every week and I was living a lie.  I didn't feel worthy to be there.  It became harder for me to want to go.  Sometimes I would fake being sick and stay home just to escape the incongruency of my life.  And also because it was a break from him.  He could tell people whatever he wanted to tell them about our lives.  He got to look the charming hero with all three boys at church so his ill wife could rest.  And I got a break from him and out of the fire of his constant grilling.  In a way, it served us both well.

But now I'm free and I'm so excited to be going to church without him every week!  I am free again to be me, to tell my truth, to make friends, and to never fear that having friends will anger him.  So how is my relationship with God?  He's my best friend, and I believe things are about to get a whole lot better!

[ellie-mae11]

Hi! My name is Ellie Mae-okay, it's not really Ellie Mae. But I'm totally uncomfortable with putting my name out there with my story. I decided a long time ago that if I was going to become famous one day, my pseudonym would be Ellie Mae. I'm not famous. But my pseudonym is still Ellie Mae. My friend suggested that I start this blog sort of as a creative outlet that can be geared to a more specific audience than using Facebook-again, totally uncomfortable! I have never written a blog before and I have no idea what I'm doing! I decided to title my blog "April's Showers Bring May's Flowers" because I have another friend who I often like to talk garden analogies with. We like to remind each other that the stormy, overcast, hard days bring the needed moisture for beautiful things to grow. And so it is in life. Even though it really doesn't feel like it sometimes-like, a LOT of the time!

Life has been pretty rough for me the last several years. But whose hasn't!? So that's not really anything unique. I have found myself at a place where I am need of serious healing. I have amazing friends and family. I am so incredible lucky in that way. But it still hurts. I feel like throughout life, I have genuinely tried to be a good person. But I'm not perfect. I found myself married to somebody who, over time, began to control every aspect of my life. The details aren't important. The important part is that I escaped. Very recently. As I was sitting in church on Sunday-sort of agonizing over some of the hurtful things that have been said and done to me, I had a feeling of peace come over me. I know my own truth. I know who I am and who I am not. I can stand at peace with myself and God knowing that I am a good person and did everything that I could. So I wrote this poem. I call it "My Time.”

My time to rise.

My time to shine.

Now I've escaped you.

Tell your lies.

But my story's mine.

You can't change what is true.

Build your ego.

Scapegoat me.

Whatever pulls you through.

But people know

Who want to see

The truth of me and you.

So tell your lies.

You fool yourself.

No longer can fool me.

It's my time to rise.

To love myself.

You can't take my dignity.