Why Is the Abused Person Confused?

If I Could Explain

If I could explain to someone else

The way this feels to me

This whole mess, this relationship,

I would say something like:

Everything is foggy

There’s a buffer between me and reality

I’m closed off

I’m confused

I’m aching and yet numb

No motivation

I’m just trapped

And it must just be me

Because it must be all my fault

Because he justifies it all

Every time I get clarity

His reasons fog the picture

He talks and talks

I’m afraid to voice my own

My own opinion

— He’ll get mad —

My own fears 

— He’ll scoff or blame —

My own perspective 

— Oh, that’s not valid —

My own… truth

— But no, that’s not true —

I’m just hormonal

I’m just sick

I'm too emotional

I just don’t get him

His past makes him too complicated

I just don’t understand

But the least I can do is agree

And not bring anything else up

That would set off the volcano again

That volcano I fear —

The lava:

He’s a victim

How could I say such a thing

I misjudge him

I hurt him

How could I be so judgmental?

How could I misread him so badly?

How could I have so little compassion for him

and give it to everyone else?

How could I be so disloyal to him when I’m loyal to the ones I love?

He’s on the outs

He’s the victim

He’s crucified

And now I’m joining in.

I just don’t understand. 

The volcano wounds me

The lava just keeps flowing

It comes from nowhere predictable

Just the smallest comment from me

Or a tiny conviction I feel called to make:

And I have wounded him deeply

I’ve made him mad

He’s had to leave the room

Shake his finger in my face

Shut me down.

He can explain it all

Why don’t I love him the way he loves me?

The way I love others?

He has a hard time communicating — can’t I give him grace?

As he picks at all my words

Interrupting (but heaven help me if I interrupt!)

And I feel the conversation veering from control —

It’s always in his control.

Conversations don’t belong to me

They’re not mutual

I don’t get the same voice he does

Because I never say it right.

Why can’t I communicate just right with him?

If I only knew the words that would explain

That would help him see how he bruises me and others

How he talks down to people, disrespects them while saying he holds the highest respect for them

If only I could communicate perfectly to his personality

Then he would understand what I mean!

He would see the truth!

He wouldn’t be angry!

We wouldn’t spend hours going in circles

Veering out of known territory

And I wouldn’t feel so… terrified.

Because I do.

I don’t realize it until I listen to my body

And then I know:

This isn’t normal. 

Conversations with other people 

Don’t make me shake like a leaf

Don’t make me feel foggy-headed and desperate

Don’t choke my throat

Don’t have me questioning every word I say

Trying to find one that he will like and not tear apart.

Then I learned: 

This isn’t communication

It’s not my fault.

He’s not safe.

That’s why I feel this way.

Anyone in this conversation would feel this way

Because they’re not safe with him

When he’s on a roll

When he’s defensive

When he’s decided

It’s done.

I cannot possibly communicate perfectly.

He’s started from the premise:

He is right. I am wrong.

The end.

There is nothing I can do

Because he always has another argument

He must be right in this moment

He’s decided this time

And he can do this much longer than I can

Because he’s fueled by fear and control.

I just want to communicate.

He thinks he needs to hold the reins

And I’m just a bucking horse

In his eyes.

I’m calm —

But he sees a person who needs tamed.

I’m earnest —

But he sees an argument he must win.

I’m speaking truth —

But he sees a person challenging his person, his authority, his morals, his intelligence

And that is unbearable to him.

Because he does not trust You.

He says he does!

That’s what makes this so confusing!

He exhorts others to trust You fully!

He judges those who don’t!

There is such conviction in his voice!

But his actions, his arguments, the way he guilts me say:

He does not trust You 

Not here.

Because he cannot abide a gentle rebuke

Or me explaining someone’s actions that he doesn’t like

Or even a point of view he thinks challenges his own.

I’m being disloyal to him, not loving him, 

If I explain that someone is not the way he judged them.

He takes that as personal attack, me wounding him, choosing my friend over him.

When I write it in black and white

When I tell you, my friend,

Or You, my God,

I see:

This is not normal.

These circular, winding, wacko conversations

Are not communication.

They are avenues to abuse

Avenues to prove himself to be who he wants everyone else to see him as.

He says not to worry about what others think of you 

He judges others for living that way

And yet…

When I bring up a way he is fearing others

He justifies it.

He has a good reason, see?

This is why I feel crazy, my friend.

It’s easier to believe him

He sounds so convinced!

He is, you see?

He is not lying intentionally 

He is self-deceived.

He truly believes what he says

But that doesn’t make it true.

He’s not who he portrays himself to be.

But that’s almost impossible to see in the moment.

You believe him — everyone does! 

So do I —

Until I realize that

I can follow the twisting trails of crazy self-justification and blame-shifting

Blame his childhood and enemies

Feel sorry for him

Try ever harder to say things that won’t set him off

Just avoid the topics that will spark the volcano

Believe what he says about himself even when it doesn’t match what he does

Or

I can take Occam’s Razor (which he taught me)

That says the simplest answer is probably true:

His actions and words don’t match.

He is hypocritical.

He thinks he is entitled to a different standard than others.

My experience with him is the experience of abused people with abusers.

My body is not crazy when it tells me I’m not safe with him,

With shakes and stomach clenches and fast heartbeat and throat closings.

It doesn’t do that with safe people.

I could be crazy and his tangled web of explanation could be right

Or he is simply abusive with an idol of control.

So here I am, my friend,

Confused, yes

Continually doubting myself, yes

Always wondering if I’m doing the right thing by setting boundaries, yes

Begging God to steer me right, yes

And aching.

Aching, aching.

For freedom.

For lightness.

For safety.

For peace.

For… healing.

Because my wounds aren’t just physical 

— Autoimmune flareups with digestive issues,

Chronic pain, jaw clenching, teeth grinding, sleep problems —

They’ve cut into my mind as well.

Not just fear 

— That takes me out of my every day as I relive past situations, 

often right in the middle of a conversation that my toddler has to call me back from,

“Mommy? Mommy?” 

“Where was I? I’m sorry, baby, I was somewhere else.” — 

Not just trying to figure out the truth and going back through the interactions that left deep confusion or anger

Not just that and more. 

No, the hardest slice in my mind right now

Has scar tissue that I will have to cut out and start over raw:

I view healthy people as weak.

Compassionate, listening, humble leaders as weak.

The people he looked down on — 

I do, too.

This makes me weep angry tears more than anything else.

How do you heal a viewpoint?

How do you reroute a brain to see godly leadership as strong and good?

How… do you change the very lens through which you see?

I mourn this.

I mourn the hard, long road ahead.

But God, You can bring beauty from ashes,

And You can change hearts and minds.

You do it all the time.

You’ve done it with me!

So do it again, I pray.

Give me motivation for the hard work ahead

Give me Your eyes

Isn’t this what I need

— A brain perspective overhaul —

For most things?

Mainstream lauded ideas that go against Your word

Church misinterpretations of Scripture

“Christians practices” that aren’t that 

You have to give me Your eyes, reroute my brain, for those, too

So…

I surrender it all. 

Take my brain

Wounds, lacerations, scar tissue, issues upon issues, hardness of heart pathways

And redeem it. 

Make it Your own territory, owned and ruled by You.

This is what I want.

Thank You that there is hope.

Your hope is not futile or empty

Your hope is real

And I know that when You promise, You fulfill.

I know my best is right here in my lap.

I know You are good.

So thank You.

Thank You for taking me as I am

Lead me back to You ever, I pray.

Photo credit: Jakub Kriz on Unsplash.com 

If this poem resonates with you and you need to talk to someone, you can call the hotline on this website (a crisis hotline that offers free help. You can also search for help centers or hotlines in your area). Feel free to comment below as well if you'd like me to pray for you or connect with you. You are not alone, no matter how alone and/or ashamed you feel. That's normal, and God meets you where you are.

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