24 Days Into a New Apartment...

Now, I am living across town, 24 days into a new apartment. I live among the boxes that hold every single thing that I own or have owned since I was only months old. Some say, too young to remember, but I do. Outside, I hear church bells and a train crossing tracks, the birds singing, and cars passing by. Before, I used to hear only silence in my isolated place out in the woods, out behind the "owner's" large house. Upstairs, I hear a couple and their children - strangers to me. Blessedly, strangers. I joke with friends that their hobbies seem to be practicing their elephant walks, and midnight fetch with their two small dogs. The noise is so welcome after 3 years of utter silence and isolation brought by the pandemic and the owner's heavy restrictions.

I got out of 3 systems of high control. Even now, writing that brings tears to my eyes, a sick feeling in my stomach, and my mouth starts to water from the lump in my throat. Will I vomit, or will I not? Not today.

These three systems were therapeutic, work related, and a high control 12-step new age environment that also encompassed my living situation for all but two of the past 25 years.

In each of these situations I was encouraged to think of myself as powerless, untrustworthy, incapable, and obedient. I was dominated and coerced into subordination, primarily by women, never by men - directly. I was encouraged to distance myself from my family and friends and to become wholly dependent on the systems and a god.

What prompted me to leave was experiencing several coinciding traumatic events which kept me in the company of my family, and away from work, therapy, 12 step meetings, and from my living situation. During that time, I realized just how deadly powerlessness and subordination can be - literally. When I came back to my life, I was livid. I ended my long term therapeutic relationship and began taking martial arts classes. When I hear people talk about powerlessness now, I think "Fuck that noise!"

It has taken me 2 additional years to free myself and two other women from our abusive, culty work situation, and the entire pandemic to free myself from a living situation in which I rented from a dominating and restrictive 12-step member who began threatening suicide during the pandemic.

It took four days of hauling boxes to move, and I gave only a few days notice. It felt and feels dramatic, and yet as I write this I know that I worked tirelessly to get out for long before I started furiously packing.

~Michelle