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My Profile
Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
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10:15 p.m. - 2010-08-05
Today was a little rough. Physically sore from having those bits of me snipped off. And from, believe it or not, sleeping so hard. Something about not moving for 10 hours while off-loading all the stress I've been carrying around�um, no. Bod not happy. Group today was a toughie too. We've been doing some heavy lifting emotionally anyhow and then someone popped off with that glib "If you were abused you will be an abuser." I went OFF. Do not ever spout that crap at me. I don't beat my kids or prostitute them or cut them down or starve them to buy drugs or dish them any of the other horrors I got served as a kid. That airy, idiotic smug assumption about the inevitability of the abused becoming the abusers pisses me right the hell off and I will not let it go unchallenged. Groupies and counselors both got a smoking blast from the last person they ever expected it from�LA the conciliator. LA the turn-taker, hand-holder, all around smoother and soother shot flames from both nostrils, belched more fire from her mouth and left the room a smoldering pit. So there was that. When Mick got home he did for me so, so well. A fixer by nature and by gender his whole being screams to go riding in and make it all better right now. And this he couldn't fix. He did what I needed, which was hug and listen. He was thoughtful with his replies and didn't let his discomfort and need to wipe my nose, hand me a cookie and blithely assure me he'd made it all better get in the way of giving me what I craved. Mick was the strong hugging arm and non-judgmental ear I had to have. That's true love, kids. And love me he does. Mick wants to be my hero or die trying, and I'll bet sometimes he thinks dying would be easier. Easier than being still and quiet and there for me. Not when every fiber of his being is ramped up and aching for a dragon to slay, a bad dude to knock down, a tangible hands-on solution that he can lay at my feet so the hurt will go away. Several hours later� A steak dinner. The ritual buying of hardware and books. Weeping in Barnes and Noble as per usual (This time it was 'Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day'. I really need to stay out of the kids' section at B&N.) A peaceful ride home in the gloaming. Snuggles with kid and man. An episode of 'Adventure Time'. Much better. As a matter of fact it's�
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