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4/14 Interactive Board: Codependent Partners

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7/20: Dr. Irene on cognitive behavior therapy and mindfulness

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12/29 Interactive Board: There Goes the Wife...

11/4 Interactive Board: A New Me!

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9/8 Interactive Board: My Ex MisTreats Our Son

5/1 Interactive Board: I feel Dead - Towards Him

4/26 Interactive Board: Why is This So Hard?

4/19 Interactive Board: I Lost My Love...

4/7 Interactive Board: Too Guilty!

Doc@DrIrene.com

My Story: A Poem for Him

 My Story:  Your ALT-Text here My Poem for Him

March 17, 2005

It has been one year and two months since I left the man that is the subject of this poem.  It certainly hasn’t been easy (even ending up in detox, facing demons I could not run from).  I was an Administrative Assistant to the National Retail Division at the Head Office of “ An extremely successful and well known all inclusive travel and cruise Line”.  I worked for less than a year with women who were VP’s, National Directors, Managers, Receptionists, Accountants, Call Takers, President’s Assistants and Executive Assistants.  Their understanding and support gave me the courage to help myself. 

Everyday I was reminded of the potential they saw in me.  I had left before this time……to a shelter.  Clothes and money were delivered to me anonymously from these women.  I went back to my husband after that week and was met with even more understanding at work.  No judgements only discrete offers of support.  Direct supervisors worked with me recognizing my efforts in the balancing act that I was slowly losing.  Weeks later, gentle reminders helped me make up my mind.  Although this was the “job of a lifetime” I wasn’t really making a contribution.  Tasks I could “handle” should have been completed easily but every call from my husband made my head spin. 

On a good day he called twenty times (literally) to say “hi” or tell me what he’s done…..on a bad day: thirty to fifty times, fighting and when I refused he’d keep repeating how bad it would be when I got home.  One time he claimed to have thrown my clothes outside and when I got home he had laid them all out to pretend that he had just brought them back in.  (He did not tell me that until AFTER he finished his tantrum)  His famous words were that since I wouldn’t “discuss” our problems right then and there (while I was at work) on the phone then I was choosing work over him.   The day finally came when I realized the choice was not my job or him…….it was him or ME. 

These women helped me choose me.  Monica.

 

The last time I saw you I turned and ran away

Did you see me? you never did say

My jewellery was gone that is what you said

I finally had enough the light was now red

 

You were waiting to cross watching all others around

I did a 180, my feet hitting the ground

Up the elevator, praying, yelling,  “Let me in!!”

Open the doors that locked, keep me away from him

 

I panicked and cried didn’t know what to do

Couldn’t go home keep pretending for you

But I can’t take the bus and chance you won’t be there

Last time on your knees you made everyone stare

 

Creating a scene, the scenes you used to hate

For my tears or “crying” only me did you berate

You can take the train wherever the bus can go

Found out how much Did I have enough? No.

 

How much are you short? A co-worker said

Opened her purse and gave me the bread

Didn’t know me well but heard enough about you

From the last time I left what you put people through

 

Stopping on the street, the people from my office

To make me come back my pride it would cost to “us”

A week later came back but we both knew

It wasn’t for the job and it wasn’t for you

 

I needed time, things to figure out

Took important things out of our house

What can I take to work on the sly

What if you catch me, what is my lie?

 

So things I dry clean those were good

But now you have a cleaner, in our neighbourhood

Three panties, two pants, two sweaters, three shirts

Mom and Dad’s gifts God this hurts!

 

And so I left never went back

A year has passed my walls didn’t crack

Stronger now than ever before

For once I control my own front door

 

Whether I’m in or out only I  will decide

No more on the porch freezing because I cried

Violence gone from my home now a safe place for me

I know living with you this would never be

 

Started on the floor three bags to my name

Kept up hope through all the pain

Took me four months to get my place

The strength I felt could be seen on my face

Seven months later it strengthens me still

And everything I own demonstrates my will

  

God bless you lovely lady. And God bless your good friends. Dr. Irene