Follow up to the poem
Four Walls and a Roof poem

Have you ever struggled so hard (when you finally broke free of your captivity) that going back to your mental/emotional abuser and enduring his treatment seemed cope-able than struggling?

What I mean by stuggling is that things just weren’t looking up for me in 2012.

From the moment I left him and fled to the shelter and the horrible experience I had had there, till what came next from sleeping in my car for a few days and when my rickety old car with no air conditioning or heat, finally breaking down, things didn’t get any better. However, I still kept my head above water and treaded on.

It was like this dreadful dark box of solitude that he’d forced me to seclude myself in had become an evil spirit that followed me to Austin which is where I ended up when I left Mr. Hyde. And that dark box of solitude was just going to keep haunting me forever.

© she
Artwork by


2 thoughts on “DARK BOX OF SOLITUDE

  1. the fear and the struggle of afterwards…..is why many never break free……or maybe go back……….it is very complicated…….no two experiences are the same……..but why make peace with something unfortunate, that is not even your doing…..even if it is……why not choose to struggle through it……….fight a war or your choosing…….for better or for worse…….maybe i do not know what i am talking about………but this is life and no two people face the same things……make the same choices………..as life goes on……so should the fight…..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That’s right, no two people face the same choices or the same things. Not all situations or outcomes are the same. I wrote a poem about this exact topic ( geez, I seem to write a poem about everything regarding abuse, huh? hahaha!)
      Anyway, novelistbaba, I returned because after being gone for 10 months, my son was drastically affected, which I learned that most children are when parents separate or divorce) I’d already felt the guilt for leaving him behind with this type of man. People kept preaching how I should do what right for me. Well, I’d been debating for years if leaving my son behind was what was tight for me, but not him and it was already bad enough that I hadn’t had a job, or even a place to go. I fled to a shelter for peets sake. My son chose to stay where he was. I mean, I couldn’t kidnap him.
      It had already taken my five years just to build up the courage to do what I did.
      Then..I came back. My son needed his mother.


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