The Berklee School of Music Singer/Songwriter, part 9

It takes what it takes.

I know, that sentence is about as obvious and maybe as lame as "It is what it is," but, people continue to use it nonetheless.

It's also kind of like when you're looking for something you can't find, and someone else is in the room, and when you finally find it, you say to that person, "It just figures! It was in the last place I looked!"

Well, duh.

Okay, I've generalized enough. What did "it" take, you may be asking, and what is the "it", anyway?

My relationship/engagement with Jason is finally over - and it took him physically assaulting me last night and me getting a restraining order today for it to finally be over.

Your reaction may be kind of like what normal people say when they see somebody drink too much all the time and not stop, despite all the horrible consequences he suffers. "Why can't he just control himself?" Or, "I don't see why he doesn't just stop drinking! Can't he see what he's doing to himself?"

Abusive relationships are kind of like that, too. Women like me - women who were raised in abusive, alcoholic/drug-addict homes - tend to repeat the cycle and can't seem to stop. Even when we're aware of it, getting out is just so hard. But again, it takes what it takes.

The nice abuser-hater lady at the TRO clinic gave me a poem today for me to read, along with a bunch of numbers for domestic violence support, as she was doing my paperwork. She had all ready asked me all the pertinent questions, and I had described how Jason had slammed me into walls and choked me on the bed, that I had to kick him off of me to get out  - and that's the reader's digest version of an assault that actually lasted 30 minutes and left me traumatized (again). I had brought in pictures I had taken of my cut lip and bruised neck and chest - Exhibit 1, photos A and B.

The woman was very kind to me. She had a bulletin board on her wall covered in thank you cards from other women she'd helped through the Volunteer Lawyers program. "This is your third bad guy, huh?"

I knew I had gotten two restraining orders before; I had completely thought about the third one. "Actually," I said, "More like my twentieth, if you wanna know the truth." And that wasn't even the truth. More like 30. "Only" three were bad enough though to have to have gotten restraining orders. It's kind of like that whole last-place-you-look, thing. Obviously I hadn't found a "not bad" guy yet.

I was pretty embarrassed. At first I felt like I had to defend myself, but she stopped me. "Don't worry; we have a lot of resources for women like you, so this doesn't happen again. At least this time it was only 7 months." She handed me a brochure with a bunch of domestic violence phone numbers, including a 24-hour hotline I can call if I think I'm going to go back to him. "Did I give you the poem the last time you were here?"

I couldn't recall, or if she did, I didn't remember reading it. So she gave that to me, too:

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN 5 SHORT SENTENCES

By Portia Nelson

I.

I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.

II.

I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I'm in the same place but it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

(And that was where I was like, "Just walk down a different street!" But it kept going, of course...like we do...)

III.

I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in... It's a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

IV.

I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

V.

I walk down another street.

(The grammarian in me says, "Hey, that's not five sentences"...but the word "sentence" is to not be taken grammatically literal, but more of a..."period" in one's life, if you will.)

So...

Here I go. Walking down another street. If I fall into a deep hole on this one, it will be my fault.