Grown up and STUCK...

I've grown out of the abuse. Every day I am reminded how amazing life is without my abuser. I have a new love that treats me better than I have ever been treated. I didn't believe it was possible to find someone so loving and attentive. I didn't believe he existed. And yet, he's here and he chose me ❤️. I'm happier than I've ever been. 

My heart breaks for my kids who, unlike me, can't escape the abuser. I watch as they deal with the same shit they always had in their life. The neglect. The harsh words. The rejection. And just like he always was, only good when someone is watching. Only good when there's something in it for him.  
I watch as they struggle to hold on to that little bit of hope that he'll change. Cause he's their Dad. I see him manipulate them. Use them. Things they aren't seeing because of their own trauma bond. 
He uses his accident to lure their empathy. "I almost died" and they fall for it. Like I did. He was diagnosed with cancer and gets chemo once a month and the cycle starts all over again. "Poor me". He'll tell them he's dying and turn around in the same breath and say the chemo is working.
This pattern is nothing new to me. I endured it for 25 years. Back and forth. Up and down. Pulled and pushed. I can't save them. They think my warnings are resentment towards him for what he did. His last act of narcissism towards me. The discard. As cruel as it was, as painful as it was, I have moved on. It took me a year and a half to get over that. I had to heal. And after doing so, I have been blessed with a beautiful love story. 
But my kids? 
They are adults and yet... children. Children that were never allowed to be children. They never had a Dad. They grew up in chaos and distress. They live a lie. And I can't save them like they couldn't save me. 
My kids are in an endless prison they can't escape from. STUCK. 

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