He won, today...

I never saw myself as a victim.  Never thought I’d be sitting here battered and bruised, wondering how he snuck up on me again.  Again.  Sure, I’d been here before.  And yes, I guess I had been a victim.  But I’ve moved past that, left that life behind me.  I’m not meek.  I’m not scared.

I am strong.
I am in control.

I was strong.
I was in control.

Now here I sit, still wondering how I went wrong.

My assailant is a smart one.  He creeps in at such increments that by the time he’s on top of you, it’s too late.  He’s always with you. You’re just so close that you forget to notice.  You go blind to his strength.

For a time, he’d had utter control over my life.  I’d find myself huddled in a dark corner, terrified to move an inch and feel his wrath.  At good times, an ice pack would bring relief from the damage he’d done.  I’d hold it over my throbbing eye and offer up my prayers to the universe that this would all be over soon.  Breathe in four beats.  Breathe out four beats.  In with the healing, with hope of relief.  Out with the pain, the panic that engulfed my thoughts.

During the worst of it, his rage would be directed at me three to four times a week.  During the best, I’d get off easy and might only have to hide out one day during the month.  It became hard to explain to those around me.  Where was I?  Where did I go?  What was wrong?  Did I need help?

Yes.

And help I got.  With support, I armed myself with information.  I did my research.  I made a plan.  Slow and steady, without him noticing, I cut off his power over me.  It was over.

Until today.

I’ve been free of his wrath for eight months.  I’ve lived in a world where he can’t hurt me.  No pain.  No isolation.  No hiding out the next day.  I’ve been the one in control.

But today, today he snuck in.  Slow at first.  So slow I didn’t notice until it was too late.
I felt his presence early on, but shrugged off that nagging feeling.  Got myself to work.  Business as usual.  The feeling got stronger as the day went on.  But still I wasn’t worried.  Those feelings could be a multitude of things.  Life adds up.

And then all at once, I couldn’t stand it anymore.  He was upon me like a boa choking off my air supply.  His hands a vice around my head.  A grip that squeezed with all its might.  I couldn’t see anymore.  Couldn’t move.  Needed to sit. To breathe.  The pain was so strong I wasn’t sure I could hang on much longer.  The bile in my stomach threatened to rise.  To give away my weakness.  But still, I persisted.  I would not give in.  I would not let him win - again.

But win he did.  I surrendered.  Admitted defeat.  I packed my bags.  Abandoned my post.  Got in my car and drove home while I still could.
After eight months of solace, the migraine had found me.
He wins.
Today.