Mourning that they might rip open unexpectedly.
Mourning that i will never be innocent again.
Mourning that i will remain a survivor no matter how hard i try to ignore that part of my past. To forget. To move on.
Mourning that i just want to be held, that i don’t want to be a responsible grown up right now who swallows the tears. I just want to cry. I just want to mourn.
Mourn the part of me he took away forever.
Mourning that i can’t read certain things without everything coming back.
Mourning that i am still afraid.
Mourning that he is still there, in my life.
Mourning that there is no care.
Mourning that society doesn’t care. It’s our own fault. We shouldn’t have married the guy. Or maybe we’re just making it all up. Can’t you take a joke?
Mourning that there is no ethics of care that really deeply cares that heals our wounds because it says he can’t hurt you anymore. Ever. We won’t let him.
Mourning that he still can. The courts don’t say “stop, enough is enough.” They just say file a petition.
Mourning that it never ends.
Mourning that i will never heal. The wounds are still there. I might not notice them. Until i read something about the ethics of care. And then it all breaks open.
I can’t be strong right now. I just want to cry.
Mourning the drain of energy.
Mourning that i will have to heal again. Again. Again. Again. And it’s never quite well again. There always will be a wound.
I am not quite sure if it was the juxtaposition of descriptions of deep caring – and the yearning for a caring society and the memory of deep non-caring and the knowledge that my ex can still abuse me via the courts in a system that obviously doesn’t care what damage it does. Whatever it was, reading a couple of chapters in Nel Noddings wonderful book Caring brought up a lot of pain that i thought i had long healed from. It is frustrating to realize that this will always be a part of me and that the wounds can break open unexpectedly.
And a day or so later, there was acceptance…