Happy Halloween

It’s funny, Ed loved scary things.  Scary movies, scary books, Halloween parties and dances, getting dressed up, going to haunted houses and on haunted hay rack rides. 

I spent years and years being scared all the time.  Scared that Ed would scream at me.  Scared that he would be in a foul mood.  Scared that we would fight over something I couldn’t control.  Scared that he would file another worker’s compensation suit.  Scared that we wouldn’t have money for groceries.  Scared that the gas or electric would get turned off and I wouldn’t have the money to turn it back on.  Scared that the car would give out and we wouldn’t have money to repair it.  Scared that even after finishing college Ed wouldn’t have the initiative to get a job.  Until I started talking about my fear in therapy I really didn’t realize that I was so scared all the time.  We lived precariously on the edge of poverty and Ed was so unhappy with his life and his decisions that we were probably in very real danger. 

Now that I’m free of that life I don’t really like scary things anymore.  Being frightened by a movie doesn’t do it for me since I survived such terrifying things in real life.  I wonder if Ed is still interested in those kinds of thrills.  Or if maybe, just maybe, Nancy has given him a taste of the treatment that I endured and scary isn’t fun anymore.


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