Slingshot to Freedom

I remember it like it was yesterday, watching leaves fall, as vehicles zipped by on the motorway. Like everything else had a place to go, a purpose to adhere to, but me. There I stood, pondering and questioning life. The clouds overhead were dark, resonating with my mind. Each thought felt like a ball on a ping-pong table.

I would read different non-fiction, mindfulness, self-help guidance. Often the answers illuminating the pages would be thoughts of happiness and sunshine. Yeah right – even these clouds mocked me. The wind would gush around, reminding me how I forgot my jacket. Yet almost there was nothing to feel cold about.

The more I would think or even try to, or the more I would attempt to feel, I would instead be hit by a wall of frozen fear and inability. Numbness robbed me in every way possible. Any thought of escaping the edge of frozen misery would then be drained by disillusionment and a depressive desire.

My strongest ability was once motivation, yet even now the only motivation was to avoid. Although part of it was there, I could easily walk out onto that motorway – would anyone bother to stop? Would the agony of this life finally be finished?

It didn’t matter. Everything I did was surrounded by self-doubt and questioning. Who was I? No idea. I don’t even recall who I once was, let alone what I am doing now.

Time would almost stop as my thoughts would return to the sweet chubby cheeks, and vibrant blue eyes, with wildly blonde hair. His eagerness to face the day gave me a drop of hope.

Although I felt like a bird captured, tortured with wings removed, and kept in a cage away from the action. Where was my baby bird?

Countless times this would happen, I would be ‘allowed’ time away from the chaotic state known as living in an abusive marriage.

This was one of those times when I wasn’t going to be questioned on what I did, what I was planning on doing, who was I with. At least I wouldn't be questioned right now. I will when I return. Heaven forbid I was with anyone.

A moment that should have reminded me of freedom yet mocked here on the walkway overlooking the motorway. Why have I been allowed a momentary escape – without my wings, yet my baby is still there in the clutches of danger? What kind of person am I? Is this really self-care?

Little by little gaining grains, even seeds of advice from others who paid attention for all of a few seconds. I manage to keep a small reserve tank of motivation and energy to formulate a plan to leave. I needed to find my wings, my rights, my confidence. Like lost treasure, these items were crucial to my survival and protection over this dear child.

It didn’t take much; I was back in the cage. Questioned relentlessly, accused, monitored. Tears ran down my cheeks, as I fell to the confined safety of the corners in the kitchen. Cuddling myself – surely I should feel some sort of comfort? Relief? Something! My poor baby would find me like this questioning if I am ok? His sweet voice and concern frustrated me further. It is not the duty of a toddler to check in on their Mother. I shouldn’t be here!

That was the moment I realized the cupboard walls created a corner behind me. Visualizing a slingshot it needed to be pulled, it needed the resistance, the anguish, and tremor before it could fly. I finally saw how I was being pushed in my mind into wall after wall. Taking on the damage like some warrior in a video game. Push after push, absorbing it - yet never healing from it.

All I needed to do was to propel forward.

Suddenly I felt like the stone in the slingshot. Or a contestant in the Ninja Warrior T.V show. Even a person trained in parkour. I would be able to bounce off these walls into the future.

There was a freedom insight. And it was almost too easy to touch, to gain hold of, to be within. There was safety beyond. I could grab my child by the hand and say “Come, we are leaving. It will be a whole new world, a whole new adventure.”