8 Weeks

She crept slowly up the steps attempting to subdue the bursting feeling of her bladder. She turned the key in the front door. “Thank you Jesus!” She screamed on the inside. “No struggle from the top lock!” The door swung open smacking the wall on the other side of it; making a loud noise she overlooked. She even threw her purse on the couch more aggressively than usual. Her focus was on making it to the bathroom.

Aaahhhhhh… Suddenly she was satisfied by instant relief. The Queen, so serene sitting on her throne of grace, but soon all tranquility would cease. The door of the bathroom was now open, and in its way was a curdled face with squinting eyes.

“What the FUCK is wrong with you?!” It was him, the angry one. He couldn’t flip a coin the way he wanted to that day, so instead he was flipping out on her.

“Huh?” she responded quite confused. “Don’t fuckin’ huh. You heard me! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Comin’ in here slammin’ doors and shit?!”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I ––” She was interrupted by a slap across the face. “Don’t be sorry. Be careful,” he tersely stated. For the use of his fingernails he wore them long and dirty. Blood dripped from her lip, but he continued to show no remorse. She held back the tears to finish what she was saying. “I really didn’t mean to. I was just trying to hurry up and get to the bathroom.”

“You’re so damn stupid.” He retorted. “Why would you wait so long to go to the bathroom anyway?! Who does that?! So fuckin’ stupid! You probably peed yourself walking up here too. Matter fact; get your ass up and get in the shower. I don’t need you cookin my dinner with no pissy pants on.”

The bathroom door slammed shut. She didn’t know whether to scream or cry, but she refrained from either in fear of getting slapped again. What a day: Her stomach had woken her up before her alarm clock. That evening she left the office of an angry boss to come home to an angrier husband. So angry he hadn’t noticed the inanimate object on the bathroom rug. She turned the shower on; not only to appease him, but to relax herself. On the way in she stopped to face her reflection. “You need to make a choice,” she told herself. “You only have 32 weeks left.”
Though people can be mean and evil to us for no apparent reason, we can not be mean and evil back. The Sanctuary Model teaches us that in order to heal from trauma we must remain Nonviolent. Being Emotionally Intelligent when triggered by a traumatic event saves us from responding negatively to our negative feelings. It’s okay to feel and have emotions. What we do with our feelings and emotions either brings pain or positive change.

Continue to be who you are in this world no matter what anyone says or does. At the end of the day, you’re the only one responsible for loving you.

Eleanor told us that no one can make us feel inferior without our consent.

I love you all.