Hello world, I now know what it means sitting in a cell. I sat in one for a few hours yesterday, yes an incident of domestic violence. But hmm, sometimes you need to let your anger and frustration out and not suck it up till you snap. Your mental health also comes at a price so it seems.
I lost my cool because I was provoked, but I am responsible for my choices. I made one, conscious it could lead to the cops being called for a final resolution in civilized terms of the impasse. Well, as I tweeted yesterday afternoon as if by instinct and anticipation: “to make a pig a pet, you might as well have live in the pigsty”. In other words, speak their language. It hurts that I had to stoop that low, but it soothes that he got my message. I wouldn’t be physically or emotionally abused again especially when it concerns my sons.
There has been quiet some understanding especially from quarters I least expected, and some ‘surprises’ too. But all is well that ends well, my sons and I got back home safely by midnight yesterday.
This nightmare may not be over, but I know now for sure I have to stop for a few years in thinking they boys could have a relationship with their dad. He is not there for them one bit, packs them up as soon as I send them his way, and sends them to his village until 48 hours to schools resumption.
Now, a few lessons and maybe someone going through something similar may be inspired or motivated who knows:
1) The cell is a sad place no doubt, but your state of mind even while locked up is the determinant. I was so serene, not because I am a lawyer but because I knew there was going to be an outcome and some formal engagements made with regards to the boys and our respective relationships with them or each other;
2) Kids can get traumatized, but talking with them during and after the ordeal is more reassuring than trying to blackmail one person to them, sheild them, scold them or even ignore them. I was fortunate maybe because the boys asked for, to get them with me in the cell;
3) life is to be lived, emotions and feelings are to be felt in the process and handled how best we can. The choices we make to navigate through this all have consequences. We shouldn’t seek to stuff up our anger and frustration, but let them out in the least damaging way. I have resorted to writing, venting, crying, shouting, etc but yesterday I felt only a stronger statement was going to help me. Sadly, I only saw damaging property as a satisfactory way of making that statement. I stopped when I felt I had made a clear enough one.
4) Make peace with what you are dealt: I was prepared to sleep in that cell and make myself as comfy as possible. Indeed, I dozed off while he was giving his one hour long statement, narrating even what was of no relevance to the case at hand, dating as far back as 2008. I was done in 15 minutes. I was so serene even the cops were surprised. All the poems and posts I have written this week seem to have been leading to last night’s saga…I also thought of the poem where I wondered if for the sake of peace was a one way street.
And so all, I hope I haven’t scared anyone with my write up, I write to put this unfortunate incident behind me and to inspire someone who knows. even if only my sons for posterity…
Have a nice week and happy labour day in anticipation to my Americana peeps in the house…