The tentacles of abuse are far-reaching and know no bounds. Even when you leave the situation and the person. A rational person moves on with life, but the abuser can’t let it go. Like an octopus hiding under a rock, slipping and sliding from one dark, dank rock to the next, spraying black ink to murky the water of anyone or thing threatening to expose them, so behaves the abuser. The abuser is a master of disguise, camouflaging into it’s surroundings, as the tide rolls in and out, they can go unnoticed for years. They change with the landscape, seemingly innocuous, yet they are all venomous and sometimes deadly.
How many times have you heard someone say, or perhaps you have said it, “wow, he seemed like such a nice guy.” He volunteered at church, led youth groups, and was always willing to lend a helping hand”(as long as the other hand was holding you down). You never know what goes on behind closed doors or under that dark rock. The octopus, lending many helping hands but keeping one tentacled arm securely wrapped around you. The tentacles with suction cups that resemble voracious mouths ready to swallow you alive. And if they are threatened with exposure, they jettison away leaving you covered in ink, unclean, violated and often re-victimized.
With so many reaching far tentacles, they use what they can. When control slips, children, and the courts are the easiest to manipulate and these tentacled tools are used to keep you firmly in place. The poor helpless octopus, caught in the net, we start to feel sorry for this wide-eyed pitiful creature, unwilling to believe that it might have a dark side, after all, they can glide through the waters with mesmerizing grace and agility. We don’t want to admit that a monster may be in our midst, a monster that we lunch with, that we invite to parties, that we engage in business deals, because what does that say about us.
Daily we see our beloved television icons, who greet us with good news in the morning, exposed as predatory octopi. Their co-workers claim, “we didn’t know, we heard stories, but couldn’t believe” we embraced a tentacled monster. We also hear those same people chastising those who suffered and were silenced as the tentacles of abuse tightened. Commenting why after all of these years are the stories being told. Why? Because their ghastly arm always taps at you, letting you know you can’t hide. Their arms wrap around your loved ones, threatening to squeeze if you tell. The suction cups suck the life out of you, and one quick bite incapacitates and/or intoxicates, leaving you paralyzed with fear. You run, but you can’t hide, only they can hide, their tentacles of abuse in plain sight.