Kingdom of Isolation

We are in the bathtub again.

We can hear him screaming threats and slamming our belongings against the walls, but he leaves us alone.

He never bothers us in the bathtub. It’s our only safe space. 

My brain is in overdrive – think, think. Do we have a way out tonight? But I already know the answer is “No.” We would have to pass him to exit the house, and the fully loaded Glock is still strapped to his back. We are stuck. I try not to obsess on the feeling of hopelessness and instead refocus on the kiddos. 

Finn is so scared – visibly shaking with fear. He always gets the bulk of his father’s anger. He is always too much of one trait and not enough of the other – too weak and too pathetic but never strong or brave enough. His father will never understand him because their hearts are so different. I try my best to protect Finn from the harsh words but it’s becoming more difficult every day.

Then there is Remi. Sweet Remi Mae. She is only 3 years old, but I know she is soaking up the chaos like a sponge. She looks at me with wide eyes wincing with every loud noise.

I try to become louder than the commotion. I grab my phone and start playing our Disney playlist on the edge of the bathtub. The song, “Let It Go,” begins to fill the room. “A kingdom of isolation and it looks like I’m the queen” – how appropriate but I am not the queen. I am the mother who is barely surviving at this point living in a home that looks like a kingdom to others but feels like hell to us. 

Another loud thud and both kiddos cling closer. I start to sing in my worst and silliest voice. This always makes them smile. I remind them – “This is the way the song is supposed to sound but Elsa cannot hit all of the high notes like your mama.” I get a little giggle from Finn and a side eye from Remi. I fill the tub with more water and bubbles trying to drown out the sounds from the hallway. I add more toys to the water – we have an entire basket of distractions in the shapes of our favorite Disney characters. We try our best to pretend. 

“Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know” – I am beginning to think Elsa knows the truth behind our façade. If only the rest of the world knew and could see our pain. Maybe we would be able to get help to escape. Instead, we are trapped inside our own brains. The only three humans who know the truth. We cling to each other for safety.