Low Desert

Like dominoes or snowballs rolling downhill, I am yet another day behind:  cause and effect. 

Another court day…wish I could say I was the lawyer and not the person being represented.  Listening to other women asking for orders of protection is scary.  “He ran my current boyfriend over with his car.  He beat me.  He tried to molest my child.  He can’t know my work address; that’s been a problem in the past,” this all from one woman.  How did I end up here amongst these tragic stories? 

I’m trying to force myself to eat.  What if he’s (my husband) there today?  What if he’s not?  What if they reverse the order of protection?  I’m moving on, but what if he’s not?  I don’t think you know that depths of hell you’re in until you’re out.  I can’t go back, my feet are to the path now.  I need to “keep on keeping on.”  I’m in sore need of a miracle.

How many forkfuls is enough to stave off a migraine and get me to the end of the day?  Five?  Six?  I doubt that.  Better than none, I suppose.  Maybe I can keep shrinking until I disappear from sight.  Maybe I can shrink to nothing and then I’ll be freed.  Maybe I am right and it’s meant to be.  I want to be, because it’s easier to cope then.  But maybe my friend is right and there is no fate.

Am I being punished for my choices then?  Do I deserve it just a little bit?  I drank and stayed out late with him, played hooky with him, shirked responsibility with him -- poor choices.  But he had to know that “a baby changes everything.”  He says I changed, but I’ve always been the same.  Some days I’m just more or less obvious.