From Wounds To Words: How Writing Guided My Healing Process
When my ex-husband, Micah, died in an accident, I had so many different feelings about it with no words to describe them. Sad to say, the first of these was relief. No longer could he stalk me and use our daughter as a pawn even though our relationship had died years ago. In an instant, that life was over for me and for her.
I felt bad for his family, formerly my family, although we didn’t stay in touch. They never believed me about Micah’s abuse, and after we were divorced, we just stopped calling each other. His mom was the one who called me when he died, and I had to pretend like it was the saddest thing in the world. Deep down, I felt totally free.
Unfortunately, I also felt extreme anger. Micah did so many things to hurt me that I wanted to hurt him back. Now, I’d never have the opportunity to decide whether I really wanted that to happen or not. Rage built up inside me a few days after his death and festered with nowhere to go. How could I be mad at a dead person? Easily.
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