July 14, 2025 • 33 mins
My Healing Journey Is Torturous.
Admitting to Being A Victim of Domestic Violence...
The Most Painful Thing I Have Ever Gone through...
Addicted To Self Loathing..
Mourning The Death of My Former Self..
I Would Absolutely Love to Hear From You..
email me sleeplessingranada@yahoo.com
Thank You for Listening..
I would Absolutely Love To Hear From You..
Email.... sleeplessingranada@yahoo.com
Anonymity guaranteed..
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
SPEAKER_00 (00:00):
A huge big Scottish welcome.
This is my podcast, episode 9.
It's another glorious, sunshiny,happy day here in magical
Granada.
The sky is the deepest turquoiseblue and there isn't a cloud to
be seen.
I've just gulped down a glass oficy cool water.
Ah, that's better.
I'm sitting here on my terraceand I'm reminiscing.
(00:23):
I used to earn foreclosure andnow I know...
I am all the closure I'll everneed.
It's not about him saying sorryor getting the answers to why
did you torture and abuse me?
Why?
Why?
Why me?
His punishing silences, thechoices he made, the humiliation
and his trying to break me, hislack of respect, accountability,
(00:47):
love, empathy, his lack ofunderstanding for my needs.
This is all the closure I need.
Once my eyes opened to this,that was it.
I stopped looking for itanywhere else.
I was the closure.
I realised that closure isn'tsomething that he could give me.
It's when I finally woke up andsaw that he was lacking in all
(01:09):
areas of my world.
This screamed to me louder thanany of his words ever could.
By moving on and removing allaccess to me, that was
empowering in itself.
This incredible peace of mindthat I now feel after my
breakup, I think it's just mynervous system resting And it's
now saying thank you, thank youso very much for finally having
(01:33):
the strength to look after me.
The power of silence.
My silence protects my dignity,my energy, my body and soul.
This is my invisible shield andit changed the dynamics in our
breakup.
I noticed that when I healed myboundaries and non-negotiables
were endless.
Protecting my heart, body, mindand soul as I've already said.
(01:55):
This was my response.
and I had neglected me for thelongest time.
Now I was awake.
I mean, really awake.
When I think of all the years Ispent trying to explain how I
felt, my energy levels werefloored.
When he sliced through my soulwith the precision of a
surgeon's cold knife, I stillcame back for more.
(02:18):
Again, again, and yet again.
Perhaps this is what youdeserve, whispered the dark
voice in my head that taunted mybeing.
As a child, I was I was leftalone to figure out and deal
with my emotions self-isolationbecame my friend when struggling
or when I was sad solitudewrapped her arms around me this
was my way of protecting myselfthe way I coped with pain and
(02:42):
fear it's all learned behaviorwe don't even know that we're
doing it I carried it about onmy hunched shoulders never
feeling there was any safe placeto actually put it down it's a
horrific burden for a child tocarry for goodness sake I was
only a little girl a beautifullittle girl my load is now light
(03:03):
my shoulders no longer hunchedover I embrace and welcome my
new life my new world it's nevertoo late to start over and I'll
tell you it's bloody wellpainful unbelievably so at times
but I learnt patience withmyself I learnt to sit in my
pain honestly it doesn't lastforever Was it Rumi that said,
(03:28):
Today I'm wise, so today I'mgoing to change myself.
Something along those lines.
This is what trauma bond is.
When trauma took over my mind, Icouldn't function, I couldn't
think straight.
Now that I'm healing, I'velearned to lean into my trauma.
I learned to listen to my body.
I let it consume me, wash overme, envelop me.
(03:52):
I let it be.
Peace will come.
The voices in your head thattorture you and tell you lies,
those voices will quieten down.
You'll no longer feeltongue-tied and trapped in your
own voice.
It's a process, a long process,but honestly it is worth it.
Saying no and setting boundariesprotects you emotionally,
(04:14):
physically and mentally.
I no longer have to explain myevery word, thought or action.
No is a complete sentence.
Somehow my tremendous Winterdidn't hear it.
Why didn't he listen?
Ah, was it because I always saidyes, yes, yes, when inside every
fibre of my brain screamed no,no?
(04:34):
It's scary the first time you doit.
Life after healing from traumais painful, so fucking raw.
I had to learn to sit with allthe grief and that was often
very overwhelming.
I grieved the beautiful,intelligent little girl who so
often was dismissed unheard andunseen.
(04:55):
I grieved the teenager and theyoung woman so full of hope and
optimism.
I grieved the mother and Igrieved the life I didn't have.
I grieved the terrible way Ibehaved towards myself.
I didn't deserve it.
All that pain I'd daily dumpedonto myself, it was just
downright awful.
But I knew I had to go throughit all.
(05:16):
I was an addict, addicted toself-loathing and all that went
with it.
And like all other addicts, Ihad to get with the program.
I learned to sit with myfeelings.
Slowly at first, I just held myown hand.
After more than five decades ofavoiding suppressing and
disassociating At times I feltcompletely numb, frozen in
(05:36):
grief.
This showed up in my sadness, mydeep, deep sadness.
Although I didn't realise thisat the time, it's the most
difficult emotional thing I haveever worked on.
But believe me, believe me, it'sworth it.
It's the only way you can heal.
I couldn't grieve withoutfeeling.
Grief without feeling is simplyliving in survival mode and this
(05:57):
I had done for decades.
Slowly at first, I learned tolet it go.
I put happy positives notes allover my house and I bought two
huge chalkboards and pinned themto my kitchen wall.
I wrote all my ugly thoughts onone and all my beautiful
thoughts on the other.
At first the ugly intrusivethoughts covered the board and
(06:20):
the lovely positive thoughtswere scarce.
When I changed my mindset andbegan questioning all my toxic
thoughts incredibly my thoughtpattern changed.
The toxic board to the This dayonly has two words written on
it, and you might have guessed.
It's fuck you.
My happy board is so full, I nowhave post-it notes covering
(06:42):
every inch of it.
This has helped me in so manyways.
My trauma was a stubborn bitch.
She didn't want to go.
She didn't want to leave me.
But in the end, I had to serveher her eviction notice.
The poisonous lies, the voice inmy head whispered, that fucked
up my mind, body and soul wentwith her.
(07:03):
And just like that, I began tobreathe again.
And whenever toxic thoughts camea knocking at the door, I
learned to take deep breaths.
I began to feel again.
My soul began to zing.
I began to feel again.
actually feel.
I was no longer numb.
I had energy.
(07:24):
My zest for life and my raucouslaughter hardly ever left my
side.
These new friends were amazing.
Soon the black thoughts andfeelings were only brief
visitors.
I never invited them in and theynever stayed long.
I had all of these new positivepals all around me now, buoying
me up and encouraging me.
(07:45):
But like everything else we doin life, the more we practice
the more we generally improve.
Apart from my singing, that is,I have to confess, I still sound
like a strangled cat, but Idon't care.
I love singing.
When he was my favourite human,I told him all my secrets, but
he used them and wielded themlike the sharpest axe.
(08:07):
One of his favouriteput-me-downs was, oh, tubby bear
seconds again.
I'll explain.
I had told him when my dad hadbeen brutally murdered, I
couldn't cope.
and I went into a dark, darkplace.
I developed an eating disorder.
It was the only thing that Ifelt I had any control over.
When we were eating, he wouldsay over and over again, is that
(08:31):
tubby beer seconds you'rehaving?
Although I told him repeatedlythat I didn't like this, he
laughed and said, can't you takea fucking joke?
We both knew it was no joke.
It took me years to have a loveaffair with food again.
Being left-handed, I was alwaysvery clumsy and every task I do
looks awkward.
For fuck's sake, can't you evensweep up My God, that's not the
(08:56):
knife you use to cut bread.
Goodness sake.
Onions you're cutting, flippin'heck.
Can't you do anything properly?
Oh my God, give it here.
I used to swallow down all theblame.
My throat would constrict asthough I had a hard-boiled
sweetie stuck in my airways.
Why was I so fucking stupid?
(09:17):
When things were good betweenus, when he love-bombed me, I
used to tell the voice in myhead, things aren't so bad.
When things are good, they'rereally good.
They're great.
(09:53):
Feeling very low, I calmlyreplied, I am brave, I have
courage, I am strong and I amresilient.
I refuse to be silent anymore.
Self-loathing isn't unlearned byisolating and cutting yourself
off.
I faced this demon with suchbravery, such courage and I
(10:14):
often thought afterwards, was itlove?
Was it lust or was it justanxiety disguised as passion?
The answer remains a mystery tome.
Becoming the best version of mewas sore, very sore.
There were days when I had toforce myself to get out of bed,
to brush my hair, brush myteeth.
I had to force myself to eat andshower.
(10:36):
It felt as if I was dying.
The pain was so incredibly sore.
It's a breakdown.
It's the death of the old me,the death of my marriage, the
realisation that my relationshipI mourned.
Not him.
but the thought of all thethings that would now never
happen.
I questioned everything.
The pain was unbearable.
(10:56):
At times I missed him.
I wanted to call him, butsomething, something deep, deep
down stopped me.
Just when I thought I wasgetting there, bam! Just like
that out of the blue, I'mspiraling backwards, backwards,
backwards.
Fuck! And then I pick myself upoff the floor and it's baby
steps again.
Three forward, four back.
(11:17):
Four forward, two back.
I got there.
I'm Free! I'm at peace and it'sso fucking fantastic.
I feel so very, very proud ofmyself.
And do you know something?
I never did break the no contactvow I made to myself.
I stopped worrying about whatfamily and friends thought of
me.
The breakdown of my marriagedidn't define me, nor the
(11:39):
torment and horrific abuse thatI had suffered for over a
decade.
That didn't define me either.
I began focusing on me and whatmade me happy.
And slowly my heart began tosing again And my soul felt at
peace.
I embraced my flaws and myweaknesses.
I welcomed my weirdness.
And now I look at myvulnerability as power and
(12:01):
strength.
I simply became me again.
And it felt amazing.
And now, a chapter from mymemoir, Abandoned, The Long Walk
Home.
It was just another glorious,sunlit Saturday afternoon.
Quintessential Spanish weather.
The sun beamed down, casting...
her welcoming glow over the lushrolling local countryside.
(12:24):
The sky was turquoise blue,cloudless and still.
The birds sang cheerful songs inharmony.
I never grew bored of myspectacular Andalusian mountain
views.
I felt excitement brewing.
We were going on an adventure.
We were turning a corner.
Could this save ourrelationship?
(12:45):
I was ever hopeful.
Showering quickly, humming tomyself as I put on my prettiest
hot pink floral summer dress, Ifelt sexy and feminine.
I applied my lipstick and dousedmyself in my favourite perfume.
Today was going to be justgreat, I repeated again and
again and again.
The woman in the mirror staredback at me.
(13:07):
I chose to ignore her sad eyes.
Today I just told her, shut up.
I ran down the spiral staircase.
I hugged my dog's bye-bye.
I can hear him gettingimpatient.
The tap, tap, tap of his carkeys on the glass table.
A familiar as he cleared histhroat was a sign that I must
(13:32):
hurry.
Nothing, not even hisirritation, would spoil this
fabulous day.
And then we were off.
I reached for his hand and gaveit a tight squeeze and said, I
feel really happy and optimistictoday.
I ignored the way he brushed myhand away.
I need to concentrate on theroad, he snarled.
(13:52):
We drove to one of our favouritespots and grabbed a table in a
quaint little restaurant thatthe locals favoured.
It was in the middle of nowhere,undulating terrain and the
vibrant olive trees all plantedin straight, neat rows stretched
as far as the eye could see.
It was breathtakingly beautiful,so peaceful and quiet.
(14:15):
We settled into a quiet cornerand ordered the speciality,
arroy negro, black rice, and twoice cold beers to go along with
it.
No menu was required in thisplace.
Long trestle tables, coveredwith white paper filled the
floor space.
The restaurant was filling upfast.
I have always loved peoplewatching.
(14:37):
The waiters brought jugs ofTinto Verano.
That's red wine, ice andlemonade.
Ice cold, fresh water, freshlymade bread and olives adorn
every surface.
The aroma of fresh fish comingfrom the open kitchen was
delectable.
Plate after plate of paella andassorted tapas flew out of the
(14:59):
kitchen.
the fresh and delicious dishesreflected the region's
scrumptious, wholesome,bountiful produce.
The atmosphere was passionate,exciting, and happy.
The beer, wine, and animatedconversations flowed.
Its rustic charm and vibrantatmosphere enhanced my feelings
(15:19):
of optimism for the day.
Lunch in Spain is a great event.
Entire families, including thegrandparents, have now
descended, and the tables arefull of excited squads Spanish
locals, all gathered to enjoytheir weekend ritual, the simple
pleasure of sharing food andbeing together.
(15:40):
Salud! Salud! is heard above theclinking glasses and the raucous
laughter.
A few elderly gentlemen wearingbattered Panama hats to shield
their weather-beaten faces hidfrom the sun under the giant oak
tree at the end of the openterrace.
They shared stories of timesgone by as they sip beer and
(16:02):
smoke heartily from theirunfiltered cigarettes.
Their gravelly, hoarse voicesand guffaws of laughter fill the
air.
Children of all ages dartbetween and under the white
plastic tables playing tag asparents and adults catch up on
the week's events and gossip.
Grandmother's clucking tongue ofdisapproval soon quietened the
(16:26):
few unruly children whosheepishly returned baby
octopus, gracias I thanked himpeople travelled from all around
(17:04):
the region to sample the simplebut tantalising dishes suddenly
I felt very hungry and mystomach growled in protest I'd
only had my ritual morningcoffee I devoured the tapas and
the rustic fresh bread relishingthe heavenly sensations now the
main event was here the ricedish nom nom nom nom what a
(17:24):
perfect way to spend ourSaturday I gushed I continued
chattering on surrounded by theundulating rough, unspoiled
countryside.
Our secret little havenencapsulated the true heart of
southern Spain.
Suddenly I was aware that I musthave said something to annoy
him.
The atmosphere changedinstantly.
(17:45):
The silence between us was thickand heavy.
I tried to deflect it.
I tried to make small talk.
I racked my brain, trying topinpoint the exact minute it all
shifted.
What has I said?
What had I done?
Had I misunderstood one of hisjokes?
Was my Tone of voice wrong?
I hadn't realised I had crossedthe line.
What's wrong?
Are you okay?
(18:06):
I croaked.
The warmth of the afternoon sunseemed to fade.
I shivered involuntarily.
I tried reaching for his hand,but he pushed me away.
Hatred shone from his darkhooded eyes.
Somehow they mirrored his black,cold soul.
He looked like a giant kestrelabout to swoop.
My shoulders hunched, I bunchedmy hands into fists as if my
(18:30):
body went into lockdown.
I swallowed down hard, my mouthnow dry like sandpaper.
It was as if a black mist hadascended.
What's wrong?
I stuttered again.
I had been in this situationway, way too many times before.
I readied myself for the tsunamithat was about to begin.
(18:50):
The tension was building.
The hairs on my arms and theback of my neck stood to
attention.
Please God, I implored silently,please God, let this pass.
My entire being stiffened.
I quickly looked up at him,trying to make eye contact.
I saw contempt.
It was so real that it took meaback and I gasped.
I tried to smile and silentlypleaded with him, please stop.
(19:14):
He rolled his dead eyes,clenched his heavyset jaw and
pursed his thin chapped lips.
Then Then the throat clearingbegan, a sound I had come to
dread.
We're leaving now, he snarled.
It was clear that I had onlyfuelled his fury in my need for
(19:34):
clarification.
I was terrified, paralysed withfear, and what was to come?
He summoned over the startledwaiter, waving his arms about
alarmingly.
His aggression and arrogancemade my heart beat faster still.
The bill, please.
He unceremoniously threw someeuros down on the table, stood
(19:56):
up and muttered somethingillegible.
Move it, move it, move it now,he roared.
People at nearby tables stoppedtheir conversations mid-flow,
mouth-scaping.
Wait for me, I'm not ready yet,I begged.
He had already stormed out ofthe restaurant.
I clambered into my lightweightcardigan, face crimson with
humiliation as I struggled togather all my things together.
(20:18):
The weight of shame bore down onme, intensifying the stares from
the other patrons, their gasps amixture of surprise and pity.
Their glances felt like piercingdaggers.
My hands trembled as I stuffedmy sunglasses and phone into my
bag.
Each move Or was it compassion?
(20:44):
Tears prickled at the corners ofmy eyes, but I blinked them away
fiercely, refusing to let thismoment break me even further.
I felt every pair of eyes burninto my back as I did the walk
of shame.
Everyone around me blurred as Ifocused on the situation and the
task ahead.
My heart raced as I tried tocatch up and not be left behind.
(21:07):
I was so embarrassed, I wished Icould die.
I wanted to scream and lash out.
The pain was physical,heart-hammering, throat
constricting, stomach in knots.
I wanted him to understand themental torture he put me
through.
All I wanted was love andkindness, empathy and affection.
I wanted my mum.
(21:27):
I was five years old again.
I wanted my mum so badly.
I remain silent becausethroughout our fractious
relationship, my thoughts andopinions never received any
validation.
When I tried to express how Ifelt, my words stuck in my
throat like a hard-boiled sweetas he hurdled humiliation and
(21:47):
cruelty in my direction.
Stop your whining, baby talk.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, poor you,always about you.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, poor, poorgirl.
Shut the fuck up and get out ofmy sight, you Fucking cunt! Why
were my feelings soinsignificant?
Did he not understand theturmoil swimming around inside
(22:08):
me?
Of course he knew! My innervoice screamed.
And at no time were my opinionsworthy.
I was the invisible housemate.
I had no voice.
My presence irked him.
I was an irritant, a problem.
I was never his equal.
I was never enough.
When I attempted to expressmyself, his impenetrable walls
(22:32):
of defence were so thick that Icould never reach him.
I pined for understanding,attention and love.
I fucking hate you, I screamedat him, but only in my head.
He terrified me.
I felt the tears of indignationstart to form.
He was now approximately 100metres ahead of me, striding
angrily towards the car.
(22:54):
I could tell from his demeanourthat he hadn't calmed down I
quickened my pace I had to tryand appease him somehow wait up
wait up I yelled his name overand over he didn't turn round
nor did he slow down he focusedon getting into the car fear
made me shake uncontrollably Itrotted along silently I was
(23:17):
numb you'd think that I wouldhave gotten used to this sheer
and utter humility by now Inever did.
The humiliation and shame washedover me.
Each time it happened my scabbedover wounds burst open wide,
leaving me exposed andemotionally wounded.
(23:37):
I had no self-respect and nodignity.
I felt the silent scream form inmy throat.
I wanted to lash out.
He was still barking orders atme.
Fucking move it, move it, moveit now or I swear to fuck I'll
leave you here.
Our eyes held for just a second.
(23:58):
There was no empathy, love orkindness in them.
He reached the car, jumped in,secured his seatbelt.
The engine roared again andagain.
He was revving again and again.
I could tell he was still livid.
Surely he'll not leave me here.
Surely he won't.
He knows I've no money.
(24:19):
The car engine roared one moretime.
Blind panic crushed my chest.
The fear of abandonment bubbledup inside me.
Please don't leave me here.
Please don't leave me.
I whispered it to the wind.
He'd sped off, screeching alongthe open dirt road.
All I saw was dust and he wasgone.
(24:40):
Would he see the error of hisways, I asked myself in hope.
His conscience would surelyspeak to him, and he'd come back
and get me.
Surely he would, right?
Then that sinking feeling in mysoul deepened.
I knew, I knew he wasn't comingback.
Yet I waited, hoping against allhope that I was wrong.
(25:02):
I really was when it came tohim.
The perfect surroundings onlyhighlighted my terror and
torture and still I sat on anearby wall, heart pumping out
of my chest, not quite believingthat he had driven off and
abandoned me.
He knew I had no money.
Disbelief and denial coursedthrough my veins and the sun
(25:22):
continued to beat down on myfair Celtic skin.
At least I've got Factor 50 inmy bag, I told myself.
I looked long and hard at thedusty dirt track that would lead
me to home.
Malicious intent is intolerable.
In the middle of nowhere, 20kilometres from my home, it was
(25:44):
baking hot and I had no choicebut to begin the long journey
back.
Thankfully that day I haddecided to wear my sturdy
walking boots.
I would undoubtedly need themnow and still the sun continued
to beat down relentlessly.
I grudgingly set off on my longjourney.
I was still ever grateful thathe would turn around, come back
(26:04):
and get me.
The heat haze danced before me.
With no pavements or safe spotsto walk I had to manoeuvre
around the uneven pitted drydirt track.
Cars and scooters zipped past medangerously close at times.
I felt very exposed andvulnerable.
I could die here I shouted andmy body would never be
(26:27):
discovered.
I began to have very darkthoughts and on and on I
trudged.
With every step my heart sunkfurther.
I tried to remain positivefocusing on my boots rhythm as
as they pounded the dirt road.
My tears felt like saltinescrystals.
I wiped them away angrily.
No more, I whispered to the hazyhorizon.
(26:49):
The breaking of me was so gentleat first that I didn't even
notice.
A simple quiet undoing, pullingat tiny fragments of my soul.
He stole all the colors from myrainbow.
The realization that there wasno pot of gold, only black days
and darker cold nights.
This fact hit me so hard, it waslike a runaway train.
(27:14):
He shattered the very core of mybeing.
Would I ever be able to put allthe fragmented shards back
together?
I was alone.
Me, myself, and I.
And on and on I plodded.
The sweltering heat wasoppressive.
I felt so for long.
Suddenly, from out of nowhere,laughter gurgled in my throat.
(27:37):
Was this an unconscious reactionto the preposterous situation I
was in?
It was a tense, nervous laugh, arugged sound that didn't quite
harmonise with the stillness allaround me.
I had no need to stifle it.
No one could hear me.
My guffaw had caught me offguard.
Was this sheer insanity?
(27:58):
Had he finally succeeded inbreaking my spirit?
Had I become a bystander in myown life?
And my strange laughter onlyaccentuated my loneliness.
How bizarre.
How fucking bizarre.
There was no sign of life in me.
An empty shell.
I was barely human.
Robotic.
An automaton.
(28:19):
I was bereft and utterly alone.
Sweat had formed on my upperlip, amplifying my panic.
I was absolutely terrified.
On and on I walked.
The crunch of gravel underfootwas the only sound.
The weight of my dire situationpressed down hard.
I no longer desired thismiserable existence.
(28:40):
I was living with a verydangerous, volatile man.
I needed to escape his clutches.
I forced myself to concentrate.
I had to think clearly andregain control of my life.
First of all, I needed a plan.
The idea of contacting theprofessional bodies who
understood my situation now madesense.
(29:03):
My mind went into overdrive.
When I got home, I would findthe list of organisations that
help people like me.
This was a step in the rightdirection.
I deserve support.
I deserve a life.
This is not your fault, my innervoice screamed.
I am a victim of domesticviolence.
(29:26):
Oh, I fucking hate that wordvictim.
As soon as the words formed inmy lips, I was overcome with
such shame that my eyes filledwith unwanted tears.
I angrily pushed them away.
This is not your fault.
You have nothing to be ashamedof, the voice in my head
continued.
I had to confront the reality ofmy life.
(29:49):
Asking for help was brave.
It's a sign of strength, notweakness.
Guide me to a clearer mindset, Ibegged.
My strides were now moreconfident.
And I had a quiet determinationabout me.
Positive thoughts exploded likeatoms in my brain.
I'm leaving him.
I'm leaving him, I told the roadahead.
(30:09):
I scanned the horizon and Ilooked into the future without
him.
A tiny smile started across mysad face.
Conviction was setting in.
I would no longer be a prisonerof his abusive, unstable and
cruel mood swings.
Enough is enough.
I just won't tolerate it.
I simply won't.
I've had enough.
(30:31):
Oh, that old chestnut, one ofthe voices laughed.
Haven't I just heard that onebefore?
Oh, shut up, shut up, I said.
I removed my invisibleblindfold.
and I could see clearly for thefirst time in a long time.
My chains of sadness and sorrowno longer chained me.
Unbound and unafraid, my spiritsoared.
(30:53):
In my mind, I once again madeplans to leave him.
I'm really leaving him thistime.
A kaleidoscope of assortedemotions coursed through my
aching body.
I imagined scenarios and futureconfrontations, and on and on I
walked.
Butterflies were swarming in mytummy.
The warm summer wind whipped atmy fine wispy wet hair.
(31:16):
I felt moisture drip down myspine.
My throat was dry.
I was parched and I desperatelyneeded to quench my thirst.
And now I was on the final legof this long journey.
I'd been walking for over twohours with little or no shade in
the blazing sun.
I was exhausted.
Up and up the long and windingroad I trudged.
(31:39):
As I put my key in the door, thedog squealed delightfully at my
return.
As I walked through into thekitchen there he was already
seated at the table beer inhand.
Where have you been?
Can I get you a drink?
Shut up and sit down I orderedhim.
but this was only in my head.
My emotions were all over theplace.
(32:01):
Just when I'd been on the brinkof breaking the shackles,
freeing myself from his controland manipulation, my
determination and resolve wanedyet again.
I felt trapped within theconfines of my gilded prison.
The thought of backing down intohis systematic routine again
felt terrifying.
(32:22):
My reality resembled a barrendesert.
No oasis existed and no love andkindness grew here.
Memories blazed through my mindlike reels of a long-forgotten
film playing on repeat, repeat.
My poor, tormented heart was anoverfilled balloon.
teetering on the brink ofbursting with unexpressed
(32:43):
emotions.
Anger and sadness, longing andhope collided within me.
I felt lost and overwhelmed yetagain.
I understood that it was okay tofeel this way, that these
emotions, wild, tangled andfiercely overwhelming.
I realised I was in mourning.
I was mourning the death of ourrelationship.
I was mourning the fact that hedid not love me or even like me.
(33:07):
I was mourning the love that wasmostly in my head.
I was mourning the tomorrows,the adventures and the memories
that never would be.
Thank you for listening to thisepisode of Sleepless in Granada.
Please email me atsleeplessingranada at yahoo.com
(33:27):
I would absolutely love to hearfrom you.
A huge big Scottish welcome.
This is my podcast, episode 9.
It's another glorious, sunshiny,happy day here in magical
Granada.
The sky is the deepest turquoiseblue and there isn't a cloud to
be seen.
I've just gulped down a glass oficy cool water.
Ah, that's better.
I'm sitting here on my terraceand I'm reminiscing.
(00:23):
I used to earn foreclosure andnow I know...
I am all the closure I'll everneed.
It's not about him saying sorryor getting the answers to why
did you torture and abuse me?
Why?
Why?
Why me?
His punishing silences, thechoices he made, the humiliation
and his trying to break me, hislack of respect, accountability,
(00:47):
love, empathy, his lack ofunderstanding for my needs.
This is all the closure I need.
Once my eyes opened to this,that was it.
I stopped looking for itanywhere else.
I was the closure.
I realised that closure isn'tsomething that he could give me.
It's when I finally woke up andsaw that he was lacking in all
(01:09):
areas of my world.
This screamed to me louder thanany of his words ever could.
By moving on and removing allaccess to me, that was
empowering in itself.
This incredible peace of mindthat I now feel after my
breakup, I think it's just mynervous system resting And it's
now saying thank you, thank youso very much for finally having
(01:33):
the strength to look after me.
The power of silence.
My silence protects my dignity,my energy, my body and soul.
This is my invisible shield andit changed the dynamics in our
breakup.
I noticed that when I healed myboundaries and non-negotiables
were endless.
Protecting my heart, body, mindand soul as I've already said.
(01:55):
This was my response.
and I had neglected me for thelongest time.
Now I was awake.
I mean, really awake.
When I think of all the years Ispent trying to explain how I
felt, my energy levels werefloored.
When he sliced through my soulwith the precision of a
surgeon's cold knife, I stillcame back for more.
(02:18):
Again, again, and yet again.
Perhaps this is what youdeserve, whispered the dark
voice in my head that taunted mybeing.
As a child, I was I was leftalone to figure out and deal
with my emotions self-isolationbecame my friend when struggling
or when I was sad solitudewrapped her arms around me this
was my way of protecting myselfthe way I coped with pain and
(02:42):
fear it's all learned behaviorwe don't even know that we're
doing it I carried it about onmy hunched shoulders never
feeling there was any safe placeto actually put it down it's a
horrific burden for a child tocarry for goodness sake I was
only a little girl a beautifullittle girl my load is now light
(03:03):
my shoulders no longer hunchedover I embrace and welcome my
new life my new world it's nevertoo late to start over and I'll
tell you it's bloody wellpainful unbelievably so at times
but I learnt patience withmyself I learnt to sit in my
pain honestly it doesn't lastforever Was it Rumi that said,
(03:28):
Today I'm wise, so today I'mgoing to change myself.
Something along those lines.
This is what trauma bond is.
When trauma took over my mind, Icouldn't function, I couldn't
think straight.
Now that I'm healing, I'velearned to lean into my trauma.
I learned to listen to my body.
I let it consume me, wash overme, envelop me.
(03:52):
I let it be.
Peace will come.
The voices in your head thattorture you and tell you lies,
those voices will quieten down.
You'll no longer feeltongue-tied and trapped in your
own voice.
It's a process, a long process,but honestly it is worth it.
Saying no and setting boundariesprotects you emotionally,
(04:14):
physically and mentally.
I no longer have to explain myevery word, thought or action.
No is a complete sentence.
Somehow my tremendous Winterdidn't hear it.
Why didn't he listen?
Ah, was it because I always saidyes, yes, yes, when inside every
fibre of my brain screamed no,no?
(04:34):
It's scary the first time you doit.
Life after healing from traumais painful, so fucking raw.
I had to learn to sit with allthe grief and that was often
very overwhelming.
I grieved the beautiful,intelligent little girl who so
often was dismissed unheard andunseen.
(04:55):
I grieved the teenager and theyoung woman so full of hope and
optimism.
I grieved the mother and Igrieved the life I didn't have.
I grieved the terrible way Ibehaved towards myself.
I didn't deserve it.
All that pain I'd daily dumpedonto myself, it was just
downright awful.
But I knew I had to go throughit all.
(05:16):
I was an addict, addicted toself-loathing and all that went
with it.
And like all other addicts, Ihad to get with the program.
I learned to sit with myfeelings.
Slowly at first, I just held myown hand.
After more than five decades ofavoiding suppressing and
disassociating At times I feltcompletely numb, frozen in
(05:36):
grief.
This showed up in my sadness, mydeep, deep sadness.
Although I didn't realise thisat the time, it's the most
difficult emotional thing I haveever worked on.
But believe me, believe me, it'sworth it.
It's the only way you can heal.
I couldn't grieve withoutfeeling.
Grief without feeling is simplyliving in survival mode and this
(05:57):
I had done for decades.
Slowly at first, I learned tolet it go.
I put happy positives notes allover my house and I bought two
huge chalkboards and pinned themto my kitchen wall.
I wrote all my ugly thoughts onone and all my beautiful
thoughts on the other.
At first the ugly intrusivethoughts covered the board and
(06:20):
the lovely positive thoughtswere scarce.
When I changed my mindset andbegan questioning all my toxic
thoughts incredibly my thoughtpattern changed.
The toxic board to the This dayonly has two words written on
it, and you might have guessed.
It's fuck you.
My happy board is so full, I nowhave post-it notes covering
(06:42):
every inch of it.
This has helped me in so manyways.
My trauma was a stubborn bitch.
She didn't want to go.
She didn't want to leave me.
But in the end, I had to serveher her eviction notice.
The poisonous lies, the voice inmy head whispered, that fucked
up my mind, body and soul wentwith her.
(07:03):
And just like that, I began tobreathe again.
And whenever toxic thoughts camea knocking at the door, I
learned to take deep breaths.
I began to feel again.
My soul began to zing.
I began to feel again.
actually feel.
I was no longer numb.
I had energy.
(07:24):
My zest for life and my raucouslaughter hardly ever left my
side.
These new friends were amazing.
Soon the black thoughts andfeelings were only brief
visitors.
I never invited them in and theynever stayed long.
I had all of these new positivepals all around me now, buoying
me up and encouraging me.
(07:45):
But like everything else we doin life, the more we practice
the more we generally improve.
Apart from my singing, that is,I have to confess, I still sound
like a strangled cat, but Idon't care.
I love singing.
When he was my favourite human,I told him all my secrets, but
he used them and wielded themlike the sharpest axe.
(08:07):
One of his favouriteput-me-downs was, oh, tubby bear
seconds again.
I'll explain.
I had told him when my dad hadbeen brutally murdered, I
couldn't cope.
and I went into a dark, darkplace.
I developed an eating disorder.
It was the only thing that Ifelt I had any control over.
When we were eating, he wouldsay over and over again, is that
(08:31):
tubby beer seconds you'rehaving?
Although I told him repeatedlythat I didn't like this, he
laughed and said, can't you takea fucking joke?
We both knew it was no joke.
It took me years to have a loveaffair with food again.
Being left-handed, I was alwaysvery clumsy and every task I do
looks awkward.
For fuck's sake, can't you evensweep up My God, that's not the
(08:56):
knife you use to cut bread.
Goodness sake.
Onions you're cutting, flippin'heck.
Can't you do anything properly?
Oh my God, give it here.
I used to swallow down all theblame.
My throat would constrict asthough I had a hard-boiled
sweetie stuck in my airways.
Why was I so fucking stupid?
(09:17):
When things were good betweenus, when he love-bombed me, I
used to tell the voice in myhead, things aren't so bad.
When things are good, they'rereally good.
They're great.
(09:53):
Feeling very low, I calmlyreplied, I am brave, I have
courage, I am strong and I amresilient.
I refuse to be silent anymore.
Self-loathing isn't unlearned byisolating and cutting yourself
off.
I faced this demon with suchbravery, such courage and I
(10:14):
often thought afterwards, was itlove?
Was it lust or was it justanxiety disguised as passion?
The answer remains a mystery tome.
Becoming the best version of mewas sore, very sore.
There were days when I had toforce myself to get out of bed,
to brush my hair, brush myteeth.
I had to force myself to eat andshower.
(10:36):
It felt as if I was dying.
The pain was so incredibly sore.
It's a breakdown.
It's the death of the old me,the death of my marriage, the
realisation that my relationshipI mourned.
Not him.
but the thought of all thethings that would now never
happen.
I questioned everything.
The pain was unbearable.
(10:56):
At times I missed him.
I wanted to call him, butsomething, something deep, deep
down stopped me.
Just when I thought I wasgetting there, bam! Just like
that out of the blue, I'mspiraling backwards, backwards,
backwards.
Fuck! And then I pick myself upoff the floor and it's baby
steps again.
Three forward, four back.
(11:17):
Four forward, two back.
I got there.
I'm Free! I'm at peace and it'sso fucking fantastic.
I feel so very, very proud ofmyself.
And do you know something?
I never did break the no contactvow I made to myself.
I stopped worrying about whatfamily and friends thought of
me.
The breakdown of my marriagedidn't define me, nor the
(11:39):
torment and horrific abuse thatI had suffered for over a
decade.
That didn't define me either.
I began focusing on me and whatmade me happy.
And slowly my heart began tosing again And my soul felt at
peace.
I embraced my flaws and myweaknesses.
I welcomed my weirdness.
And now I look at myvulnerability as power and
(12:01):
strength.
I simply became me again.
And it felt amazing.
And now, a chapter from mymemoir, Abandoned, The Long Walk
Home.
It was just another glorious,sunlit Saturday afternoon.
Quintessential Spanish weather.
The sun beamed down, casting...
her welcoming glow over the lushrolling local countryside.
(12:24):
The sky was turquoise blue,cloudless and still.
The birds sang cheerful songs inharmony.
I never grew bored of myspectacular Andalusian mountain
views.
I felt excitement brewing.
We were going on an adventure.
We were turning a corner.
Could this save ourrelationship?
(12:45):
I was ever hopeful.
Showering quickly, humming tomyself as I put on my prettiest
hot pink floral summer dress, Ifelt sexy and feminine.
I applied my lipstick and dousedmyself in my favourite perfume.
Today was going to be justgreat, I repeated again and
again and again.
The woman in the mirror staredback at me.
(13:07):
I chose to ignore her sad eyes.
Today I just told her, shut up.
I ran down the spiral staircase.
I hugged my dog's bye-bye.
I can hear him gettingimpatient.
The tap, tap, tap of his carkeys on the glass table.
A familiar as he cleared histhroat was a sign that I must
(13:32):
hurry.
Nothing, not even hisirritation, would spoil this
fabulous day.
And then we were off.
I reached for his hand and gaveit a tight squeeze and said, I
feel really happy and optimistictoday.
I ignored the way he brushed myhand away.
I need to concentrate on theroad, he snarled.
(13:52):
We drove to one of our favouritespots and grabbed a table in a
quaint little restaurant thatthe locals favoured.
It was in the middle of nowhere,undulating terrain and the
vibrant olive trees all plantedin straight, neat rows stretched
as far as the eye could see.
It was breathtakingly beautiful,so peaceful and quiet.
(14:15):
We settled into a quiet cornerand ordered the speciality,
arroy negro, black rice, and twoice cold beers to go along with
it.
No menu was required in thisplace.
Long trestle tables, coveredwith white paper filled the
floor space.
The restaurant was filling upfast.
I have always loved peoplewatching.
(14:37):
The waiters brought jugs ofTinto Verano.
That's red wine, ice andlemonade.
Ice cold, fresh water, freshlymade bread and olives adorn
every surface.
The aroma of fresh fish comingfrom the open kitchen was
delectable.
Plate after plate of paella andassorted tapas flew out of the
(14:59):
kitchen.
the fresh and delicious dishesreflected the region's
scrumptious, wholesome,bountiful produce.
The atmosphere was passionate,exciting, and happy.
The beer, wine, and animatedconversations flowed.
Its rustic charm and vibrantatmosphere enhanced my feelings
(15:19):
of optimism for the day.
Lunch in Spain is a great event.
Entire families, including thegrandparents, have now
descended, and the tables arefull of excited squads Spanish
locals, all gathered to enjoytheir weekend ritual, the simple
pleasure of sharing food andbeing together.
(15:40):
Salud! Salud! is heard above theclinking glasses and the raucous
laughter.
A few elderly gentlemen wearingbattered Panama hats to shield
their weather-beaten faces hidfrom the sun under the giant oak
tree at the end of the openterrace.
They shared stories of timesgone by as they sip beer and
(16:02):
smoke heartily from theirunfiltered cigarettes.
Their gravelly, hoarse voicesand guffaws of laughter fill the
air.
Children of all ages dartbetween and under the white
plastic tables playing tag asparents and adults catch up on
the week's events and gossip.
Grandmother's clucking tongue ofdisapproval soon quietened the
(16:26):
few unruly children whosheepishly returned baby
octopus, gracias I thanked himpeople travelled from all around
(17:04):
the region to sample the simplebut tantalising dishes suddenly
I felt very hungry and mystomach growled in protest I'd
only had my ritual morningcoffee I devoured the tapas and
the rustic fresh bread relishingthe heavenly sensations now the
main event was here the ricedish nom nom nom nom what a
(17:24):
perfect way to spend ourSaturday I gushed I continued
chattering on surrounded by theundulating rough, unspoiled
countryside.
Our secret little havenencapsulated the true heart of
southern Spain.
Suddenly I was aware that I musthave said something to annoy
him.
The atmosphere changedinstantly.
(17:45):
The silence between us was thickand heavy.
I tried to deflect it.
I tried to make small talk.
I racked my brain, trying topinpoint the exact minute it all
shifted.
What has I said?
What had I done?
Had I misunderstood one of hisjokes?
Was my Tone of voice wrong?
I hadn't realised I had crossedthe line.
What's wrong?
Are you okay?
(18:06):
I croaked.
The warmth of the afternoon sunseemed to fade.
I shivered involuntarily.
I tried reaching for his hand,but he pushed me away.
Hatred shone from his darkhooded eyes.
Somehow they mirrored his black,cold soul.
He looked like a giant kestrelabout to swoop.
My shoulders hunched, I bunchedmy hands into fists as if my
(18:30):
body went into lockdown.
I swallowed down hard, my mouthnow dry like sandpaper.
It was as if a black mist hadascended.
What's wrong?
I stuttered again.
I had been in this situationway, way too many times before.
I readied myself for the tsunamithat was about to begin.
(18:50):
The tension was building.
The hairs on my arms and theback of my neck stood to
attention.
Please God, I implored silently,please God, let this pass.
My entire being stiffened.
I quickly looked up at him,trying to make eye contact.
I saw contempt.
It was so real that it took meaback and I gasped.
I tried to smile and silentlypleaded with him, please stop.
(19:14):
He rolled his dead eyes,clenched his heavyset jaw and
pursed his thin chapped lips.
Then Then the throat clearingbegan, a sound I had come to
dread.
We're leaving now, he snarled.
It was clear that I had onlyfuelled his fury in my need for
(19:34):
clarification.
I was terrified, paralysed withfear, and what was to come?
He summoned over the startledwaiter, waving his arms about
alarmingly.
His aggression and arrogancemade my heart beat faster still.
The bill, please.
He unceremoniously threw someeuros down on the table, stood
(19:56):
up and muttered somethingillegible.
Move it, move it, move it now,he roared.
People at nearby tables stoppedtheir conversations mid-flow,
mouth-scaping.
Wait for me, I'm not ready yet,I begged.
He had already stormed out ofthe restaurant.
I clambered into my lightweightcardigan, face crimson with
humiliation as I struggled togather all my things together.
(20:18):
The weight of shame bore down onme, intensifying the stares from
the other patrons, their gasps amixture of surprise and pity.
Their glances felt like piercingdaggers.
My hands trembled as I stuffedmy sunglasses and phone into my
bag.
Each move Or was it compassion?
(20:44):
Tears prickled at the corners ofmy eyes, but I blinked them away
fiercely, refusing to let thismoment break me even further.
I felt every pair of eyes burninto my back as I did the walk
of shame.
Everyone around me blurred as Ifocused on the situation and the
task ahead.
My heart raced as I tried tocatch up and not be left behind.
(21:07):
I was so embarrassed, I wished Icould die.
I wanted to scream and lash out.
The pain was physical,heart-hammering, throat
constricting, stomach in knots.
I wanted him to understand themental torture he put me
through.
All I wanted was love andkindness, empathy and affection.
I wanted my mum.
(21:27):
I was five years old again.
I wanted my mum so badly.
I remain silent becausethroughout our fractious
relationship, my thoughts andopinions never received any
validation.
When I tried to express how Ifelt, my words stuck in my
throat like a hard-boiled sweetas he hurdled humiliation and
(21:47):
cruelty in my direction.
Stop your whining, baby talk.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, poor you,always about you.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, poor, poorgirl.
Shut the fuck up and get out ofmy sight, you Fucking cunt! Why
were my feelings soinsignificant?
Did he not understand theturmoil swimming around inside
(22:08):
me?
Of course he knew! My innervoice screamed.
And at no time were my opinionsworthy.
I was the invisible housemate.
I had no voice.
My presence irked him.
I was an irritant, a problem.
I was never his equal.
I was never enough.
When I attempted to expressmyself, his impenetrable walls
(22:32):
of defence were so thick that Icould never reach him.
I pined for understanding,attention and love.
I fucking hate you, I screamedat him, but only in my head.
He terrified me.
I felt the tears of indignationstart to form.
He was now approximately 100metres ahead of me, striding
angrily towards the car.
(22:54):
I could tell from his demeanourthat he hadn't calmed down I
quickened my pace I had to tryand appease him somehow wait up
wait up I yelled his name overand over he didn't turn round
nor did he slow down he focusedon getting into the car fear
made me shake uncontrollably Itrotted along silently I was
(23:17):
numb you'd think that I wouldhave gotten used to this sheer
and utter humility by now Inever did.
The humiliation and shame washedover me.
Each time it happened my scabbedover wounds burst open wide,
leaving me exposed andemotionally wounded.
(23:37):
I had no self-respect and nodignity.
I felt the silent scream form inmy throat.
I wanted to lash out.
He was still barking orders atme.
Fucking move it, move it, moveit now or I swear to fuck I'll
leave you here.
Our eyes held for just a second.
(23:58):
There was no empathy, love orkindness in them.
He reached the car, jumped in,secured his seatbelt.
The engine roared again andagain.
He was revving again and again.
I could tell he was still livid.
Surely he'll not leave me here.
Surely he won't.
He knows I've no money.
(24:19):
The car engine roared one moretime.
Blind panic crushed my chest.
The fear of abandonment bubbledup inside me.
Please don't leave me here.
Please don't leave me.
I whispered it to the wind.
He'd sped off, screeching alongthe open dirt road.
All I saw was dust and he wasgone.
(24:40):
Would he see the error of hisways, I asked myself in hope.
His conscience would surelyspeak to him, and he'd come back
and get me.
Surely he would, right?
Then that sinking feeling in mysoul deepened.
I knew, I knew he wasn't comingback.
Yet I waited, hoping against allhope that I was wrong.
(25:02):
I really was when it came tohim.
The perfect surroundings onlyhighlighted my terror and
torture and still I sat on anearby wall, heart pumping out
of my chest, not quite believingthat he had driven off and
abandoned me.
He knew I had no money.
Disbelief and denial coursedthrough my veins and the sun
(25:22):
continued to beat down on myfair Celtic skin.
At least I've got Factor 50 inmy bag, I told myself.
I looked long and hard at thedusty dirt track that would lead
me to home.
Malicious intent is intolerable.
In the middle of nowhere, 20kilometres from my home, it was
(25:44):
baking hot and I had no choicebut to begin the long journey
back.
Thankfully that day I haddecided to wear my sturdy
walking boots.
I would undoubtedly need themnow and still the sun continued
to beat down relentlessly.
I grudgingly set off on my longjourney.
I was still ever grateful thathe would turn around, come back
(26:04):
and get me.
The heat haze danced before me.
With no pavements or safe spotsto walk I had to manoeuvre
around the uneven pitted drydirt track.
Cars and scooters zipped past medangerously close at times.
I felt very exposed andvulnerable.
I could die here I shouted andmy body would never be
(26:27):
discovered.
I began to have very darkthoughts and on and on I
trudged.
With every step my heart sunkfurther.
I tried to remain positivefocusing on my boots rhythm as
as they pounded the dirt road.
My tears felt like saltinescrystals.
I wiped them away angrily.
No more, I whispered to the hazyhorizon.
(26:49):
The breaking of me was so gentleat first that I didn't even
notice.
A simple quiet undoing, pullingat tiny fragments of my soul.
He stole all the colors from myrainbow.
The realization that there wasno pot of gold, only black days
and darker cold nights.
This fact hit me so hard, it waslike a runaway train.
(27:14):
He shattered the very core of mybeing.
Would I ever be able to put allthe fragmented shards back
together?
I was alone.
Me, myself, and I.
And on and on I plodded.
The sweltering heat wasoppressive.
I felt so for long.
Suddenly, from out of nowhere,laughter gurgled in my throat.
(27:37):
Was this an unconscious reactionto the preposterous situation I
was in?
It was a tense, nervous laugh, arugged sound that didn't quite
harmonise with the stillness allaround me.
I had no need to stifle it.
No one could hear me.
My guffaw had caught me offguard.
Was this sheer insanity?
(27:58):
Had he finally succeeded inbreaking my spirit?
Had I become a bystander in myown life?
And my strange laughter onlyaccentuated my loneliness.
How bizarre.
How fucking bizarre.
There was no sign of life in me.
An empty shell.
I was barely human.
Robotic.
An automaton.
(28:19):
I was bereft and utterly alone.
Sweat had formed on my upperlip, amplifying my panic.
I was absolutely terrified.
On and on I walked.
The crunch of gravel underfootwas the only sound.
The weight of my dire situationpressed down hard.
I no longer desired thismiserable existence.
(28:40):
I was living with a verydangerous, volatile man.
I needed to escape his clutches.
I forced myself to concentrate.
I had to think clearly andregain control of my life.
First of all, I needed a plan.
The idea of contacting theprofessional bodies who
understood my situation now madesense.
(29:03):
My mind went into overdrive.
When I got home, I would findthe list of organisations that
help people like me.
This was a step in the rightdirection.
I deserve support.
I deserve a life.
This is not your fault, my innervoice screamed.
I am a victim of domesticviolence.
(29:26):
Oh, I fucking hate that wordvictim.
As soon as the words formed inmy lips, I was overcome with
such shame that my eyes filledwith unwanted tears.
I angrily pushed them away.
This is not your fault.
You have nothing to be ashamedof, the voice in my head
continued.
I had to confront the reality ofmy life.
(29:49):
Asking for help was brave.
It's a sign of strength, notweakness.
Guide me to a clearer mindset, Ibegged.
My strides were now moreconfident.
And I had a quiet determinationabout me.
Positive thoughts exploded likeatoms in my brain.
I'm leaving him.
I'm leaving him, I told the roadahead.
(30:09):
I scanned the horizon and Ilooked into the future without
him.
A tiny smile started across mysad face.
Conviction was setting in.
I would no longer be a prisonerof his abusive, unstable and
cruel mood swings.
Enough is enough.
I just won't tolerate it.
I simply won't.
I've had enough.
(30:31):
Oh, that old chestnut, one ofthe voices laughed.
Haven't I just heard that onebefore?
Oh, shut up, shut up, I said.
I removed my invisibleblindfold.
and I could see clearly for thefirst time in a long time.
My chains of sadness and sorrowno longer chained me.
Unbound and unafraid, my spiritsoared.
(30:53):
In my mind, I once again madeplans to leave him.
I'm really leaving him thistime.
A kaleidoscope of assortedemotions coursed through my
aching body.
I imagined scenarios and futureconfrontations, and on and on I
walked.
Butterflies were swarming in mytummy.
The warm summer wind whipped atmy fine wispy wet hair.
(31:16):
I felt moisture drip down myspine.
My throat was dry.
I was parched and I desperatelyneeded to quench my thirst.
And now I was on the final legof this long journey.
I'd been walking for over twohours with little or no shade in
the blazing sun.
I was exhausted.
Up and up the long and windingroad I trudged.
(31:39):
As I put my key in the door, thedog squealed delightfully at my
return.
As I walked through into thekitchen there he was already
seated at the table beer inhand.
Where have you been?
Can I get you a drink?
Shut up and sit down I orderedhim.
but this was only in my head.
My emotions were all over theplace.
(32:01):
Just when I'd been on the brinkof breaking the shackles,
freeing myself from his controland manipulation, my
determination and resolve wanedyet again.
I felt trapped within theconfines of my gilded prison.
The thought of backing down intohis systematic routine again
felt terrifying.
(32:22):
My reality resembled a barrendesert.
No oasis existed and no love andkindness grew here.
Memories blazed through my mindlike reels of a long-forgotten
film playing on repeat, repeat.
My poor, tormented heart was anoverfilled balloon.
teetering on the brink ofbursting with unexpressed
(32:43):
emotions.
Anger and sadness, longing andhope collided within me.
I felt lost and overwhelmed yetagain.
I understood that it was okay tofeel this way, that these
emotions, wild, tangled andfiercely overwhelming.
I realised I was in mourning.
I was mourning the death of ourrelationship.
I was mourning the fact that hedid not love me or even like me.
(33:07):
I was mourning the love that wasmostly in my head.
I was mourning the tomorrows,the adventures and the memories
that never would be.
Thank you for listening to thisepisode of Sleepless in Granada.
Please email me atsleeplessingranada at yahoo.com
(33:27):
I would absolutely love to hearfrom you.
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