I guess that is basically what my blogging has been.  Stream of consciousness writing as I come too in the morning. Not new thoughts or contemplations.  Just the need to rehash again.

Easter is my least favourite religious holiday.  Holiday.  We make a holiday out of sadistic remembrances of torture.  We get a day off to remember.  Then two days later (not three) we get all happy because the torturing though it killed, didn’t.  And we bow down to the man tortured because no one will ever know the pain he knew and he did it to pay for the sins of you and me.  Are you a terrible sinner?  Some would say I am just for the stream of consciousness I’m going through now.  Aren’t you mocking the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Zoe?  Am I?

Easter Sunday to me seems like the honeymoon phases of an abusive relationship.  On Friday the abuser whips the snot out of you because you are such a bad person and you made him/her do this because you are so bad.  Sunday all is forgiven because the abuser wakes up and makes up with you and you are so relieved you spend the day feeling like a brand new person, born again.  A new birth.

You put on a smile, relieved that today you won’t get verbally taunted or physically abused.  You get to forget for now that it ever happened and you hope as you’ve never hoped before in this whole new hope you have that you’ll never ever have to go through such pain again.  Resurrected.

Then you wake up Easter Monday.  Most of the hoopla is over and you start the day all over again, looking reality in the face.  The fear starts again, and the abuser reminds you who is still in charge.  And that glorious hope you enjoyed for a time?

The blood and gore, those pictures, I can’t look at them.  I see and hear abusers taunt the abused and say, ‘This?  See this?  This is what you did to me!’

The abused stands back and usually never leaves the abusive relationship.  They stay thinking they can fix  it all.  They stay believing if they leave they will lose everything.  They stay trying again and again to make it right.  To change for the better.  To make the abuser happy.  They hang their heads, withdraw, and hope against hope the abuse will stop.  There will be a reprieve come December.

Thank goodness for religious holidays.