Not All the Woods Are Dark

The trouble with children of abuse is that they get stuck.

Here is a lovely young woman, barely 22, who has made being a bitch an art. She is one part 2 year old who has a temper tantrum when she doesn't get her way - one part defiant adolescent who thinks the world owes her a living - one part angry and battered victim with an exaggerated sense of her own self worth - and one part lost, trapped and dead ended. The part of me that doesn't want to slap her well into next week wants to hug her. The part of me that knows a little about her past wants to shake her to her senses about her future. The conflict in her ignites the conflict in me and in the end I detach from her, unwilling to put my own emotional health at risk. She will find her way or she won't and nothing I can do or say will make a difference. She is stuck in an unhappy and bitter place but it is her choice to stay. It's an intriguing sideline that while she is so arrogantly confident about her value as an employee - too indispensable and entitled to bother with being pleasant or on time, too hostile to be liked or follow orders - her personal self esteem, barely there to begin with, has slipped even lower. In the workplace, she fancies herself in charge, better than the people she works with or waits on, above the rules. At home, she slips into a far different role - fearful of being alone, bargaining for attention, desperately seeking approval. No matter that she is neglected, demeaned, and exploited - she is stuck, held fast by her own choices. It doesn't occur to her that she could change her mind and choose differently.

No road is endless, there are always turns and bends and crossroads and opportunities to change direction. Not all the woods are dark and stuck is more a state of mind than a place - one patch of sunlight will lead to another and soon you'll be out of the woods altogether.