For years, this is the question my friends ask. It is so hard to explain. Like another writer, I have had my share of angry tantrums, the desire to leave, the utter frustration of being in a broken relationship. Why do I stay?
Not a show-off, but I’m educated, I have a good job, money in the bank. I have friends, contacts, colleagues from around the world. Why do I stay?
It is the drip. For years, I have been dripped on by my spouse and his family (from whom we live across the street) that while I’m educated, “it is only a community college degree.” Drip drip drip. While I have a good job, “Anyone can be a nurse.” Drip drip drip. Money in the bank, “If it wasn’t for my income, you’d have nothing.” Drip drip drip. Reared four decent children, “Not one of your children will amount to anything.” Drip drip drip. The constant drip wears your protection away, leaving raw fear.
Yes, people can say mean things, and you can rise above the nastiness. When you feel as though you are the only candle in the wilderness and everyone is trying to blow out your flame, and the one person who should protect the flame is also trying to blow it out, you lose confidence. That is why I stay.
I’m not angry anymore. I just simply don’t care. I love my children, and don’t want to lose them. But, I don’t care about this person to whom I am tied for the rest of my life, until I can get up whatever it takes to walk out the door. Walking out the door takes confidence, which I do not have.
Working as a nurse takes confidence, and my daily routine revolves around forcing myself to believe I am a competent nurse. Walking into a house, when I know I’m too stupid to help, well, it makes my knees shake. After being in the room for a while, realizing I am able to do my job just fine, the feeling lasts for a while. Until I get to the next house and feel the same incompetence. Accolades do not help, I feel as if I’ve managed to manipulate something or someone, or that I’ve tricked them into thinking I’m competent. It’s a big charade that will come crashing down, and soon.
Walking out the door requires competence. The knee-shaking fears of incompetence keeps those feet planted firmly in the house, even knowing it’s the wrong place to be. Knowing there is no life here for me.
When someone asks a friend, “Why do you stay?” maybe realize that abused people have to stay, because they do not have the confidence to just leave, until that day finally comes. For me, that day will come. Until that day comes, please be gentle with me and understand that while I want to leave, I cannot. Not just yet.
