OTC 9.1: Control
on_thecouch 9.1: Control.
I haven’t had much control over my life-not until the last few years, anyway. And even then… It’s only just lately that I’ve really started to feel in control. Of myself, anyway.
Which, really, is the important thing. Because I can’t afford to not be in control. Of myself.
Go ahead-call me a control freak. Maybe I am. Can you blame me? I spent fourteen years so controlled by my mother that I didn’t dare make a decision without her approval. Even just deciding what to have for lunch was beyond my ability. I hated it, but that’s how it was. Mom home schooled me so she could enroll me in every kind of class imaginable. It’s a good thing she did that, instead of teaching me herself, because I don’t even want to think about what my social skills would have been like otherwise.
It’s weird, I know, but Mom losing custody of me was both the best and the worst thing to ever happen to me-at that point in my life, anyway. I was so lost and scared that I got angry and started blaming and hating her. Not exactly fair, but your parents are supposed to protect you-to take care of you. And my mother had apparently failed so entirely at it that a judge deemed her unfit. I didn’t have any control over that decision either, and yeah, it turned out for the best, but at the time the fact that someone I had never met, who didn’t know me from the next blonde teenager, could come along and completely rearrange my life? I didn’t have a whole lot of love for DHS, let me tell you.
I know it could have been worse. I mean, at least they let me stay at Elias instead of putting me in foster care or a group home, but-I’ve lived in a boarding school since I was fourteen. Year round. I’d like to say that at least I’ve had some stability and security here, but that’s not the case, either.
You want to talk about Marcy, don’t you? I’d rather not.
…She was the first adult I trusted, after they put me here. I mean-come on. I took an arrow through my shoulder and went to three teenage boys instead of going to an adult, what does that tell you? I let Bart--when he was still Impulse--make a decision about my medical care. After Mom and DHS, I just didn’t trust grown-ups. Except Marcy. Not at first, obviously, but after a while… She was easy to talk to. I know that’s the point, seeing as how she was my therapist, but-I liked her. Mom was never good at giving at advice or listening or being supportive, but Marcy was and after everything, I kind of latched onto her. Imprinted like a baby duck or something. Cassie called her my surrogate mother once, and-I guess that’s kind of what it was like.
In terms of therapy, that probably wasn’t the healthiest thing, but that’s not one of my regrets-and I have plenty of those.
Which… kind of brings me back to that control thing. I lost it.
The thing is-could I have stopped what happened to her? I knew she was having problems with her boyfriend. I knew she wasn’t thrilled about the engagement. I was there, waiting for my session, when she broke it off with him and-I heard the way he screamed at her and lost his temper, and I saw how upset she was. I should have-I don’t know. I didn’t know how dangerous he was, but she did. I should have told someone. If I had, maybe he could have been stopped. Maybe-well, anyway. I didn’t, and he wasn’t, and he killed her.
I wasn’t even there. I was off with Young Justice. If I’d come back just ten minutes sooner…
I saw what happened-the bastard videotaped it, the police found it and they were watching it. I don’t even remember what happened after that. I really don’t. I remember the video. Perfectly. I wish I didn’t, but I do. And then I was in the woods and...
I wish I could say I didn’t know what I was doing. I wish I could say that I would have made the right decision at the last second.
I can’t. I knew what I was doing. I don’t know where my common sense-my morals-my brain was, but-I wasn’t out of my mind. I made the decision to follow them into those woods, and I made the decisions to do the things I did in there. I wanted to hurt them. I didn’t even think about right or wrong or justice or the fact that if I hunted them down and killed them, I’d be as bad as them.
When I found him, all I could see was what he did to Marcy. All I wanted to do was-the same thing to him. And I did.
I let go of the arrow.
Cassie has told me a million times that I need to stop thinking of it that way. That Kon was there and he caught the arrow and I walked away, so I should let it go and get over it.
I can’t do that. Because if I let myself forget what I did-I risk forgetting why I had to quit. And I had to. I let go of the arrow. I aimed an arrow at a man’s heart and I let it go.
The worst thing is that I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew that by letting go, I would kill him. And-I wanted to.
If Kon hadn’t been there… If he hadn’t shown up out of nowhere and caught that arrow in midair-the first time he’d ever done that, too. All that time we’d spent playing at it and he never caught one, but he caught that arrow? Thank God. And the stupid baseball analogy he gave me. Taking back a pitch. I hate baseball.
But it was exactly the right thing to say. I don’t think I will ever stop being grateful to him for that day. I don’t know if I ever told him… God, I miss him.
Anyway. That is why I won’t ever be Arrowette again. If I’m being honest, I’m terrified that I’ll lose control like that again. I can’t say with absolute, 100% certainty that I will never lose control like that again. That if, God forbid, I’m ever put into a situation like that again, I won’t cross that line. I did it before. I don’t trust myself not to do it again.
I think about Kon, and Bart. If I were Arrowette, if I’d been there when they-could I have done anything to stop it? Probably not. But would I have chosen revenge over justice after they…
I don’t know.
Which is why I won’t risk it.
I haven’t had much control over my life-not until the last few years, anyway. And even then… It’s only just lately that I’ve really started to feel in control. Of myself, anyway.
Which, really, is the important thing. Because I can’t afford to not be in control. Of myself.
Go ahead-call me a control freak. Maybe I am. Can you blame me? I spent fourteen years so controlled by my mother that I didn’t dare make a decision without her approval. Even just deciding what to have for lunch was beyond my ability. I hated it, but that’s how it was. Mom home schooled me so she could enroll me in every kind of class imaginable. It’s a good thing she did that, instead of teaching me herself, because I don’t even want to think about what my social skills would have been like otherwise.
It’s weird, I know, but Mom losing custody of me was both the best and the worst thing to ever happen to me-at that point in my life, anyway. I was so lost and scared that I got angry and started blaming and hating her. Not exactly fair, but your parents are supposed to protect you-to take care of you. And my mother had apparently failed so entirely at it that a judge deemed her unfit. I didn’t have any control over that decision either, and yeah, it turned out for the best, but at the time the fact that someone I had never met, who didn’t know me from the next blonde teenager, could come along and completely rearrange my life? I didn’t have a whole lot of love for DHS, let me tell you.
I know it could have been worse. I mean, at least they let me stay at Elias instead of putting me in foster care or a group home, but-I’ve lived in a boarding school since I was fourteen. Year round. I’d like to say that at least I’ve had some stability and security here, but that’s not the case, either.
You want to talk about Marcy, don’t you? I’d rather not.
…She was the first adult I trusted, after they put me here. I mean-come on. I took an arrow through my shoulder and went to three teenage boys instead of going to an adult, what does that tell you? I let Bart--when he was still Impulse--make a decision about my medical care. After Mom and DHS, I just didn’t trust grown-ups. Except Marcy. Not at first, obviously, but after a while… She was easy to talk to. I know that’s the point, seeing as how she was my therapist, but-I liked her. Mom was never good at giving at advice or listening or being supportive, but Marcy was and after everything, I kind of latched onto her. Imprinted like a baby duck or something. Cassie called her my surrogate mother once, and-I guess that’s kind of what it was like.
In terms of therapy, that probably wasn’t the healthiest thing, but that’s not one of my regrets-and I have plenty of those.
Which… kind of brings me back to that control thing. I lost it.
The thing is-could I have stopped what happened to her? I knew she was having problems with her boyfriend. I knew she wasn’t thrilled about the engagement. I was there, waiting for my session, when she broke it off with him and-I heard the way he screamed at her and lost his temper, and I saw how upset she was. I should have-I don’t know. I didn’t know how dangerous he was, but she did. I should have told someone. If I had, maybe he could have been stopped. Maybe-well, anyway. I didn’t, and he wasn’t, and he killed her.
I wasn’t even there. I was off with Young Justice. If I’d come back just ten minutes sooner…
I saw what happened-the bastard videotaped it, the police found it and they were watching it. I don’t even remember what happened after that. I really don’t. I remember the video. Perfectly. I wish I didn’t, but I do. And then I was in the woods and...
I wish I could say I didn’t know what I was doing. I wish I could say that I would have made the right decision at the last second.
I can’t. I knew what I was doing. I don’t know where my common sense-my morals-my brain was, but-I wasn’t out of my mind. I made the decision to follow them into those woods, and I made the decisions to do the things I did in there. I wanted to hurt them. I didn’t even think about right or wrong or justice or the fact that if I hunted them down and killed them, I’d be as bad as them.
When I found him, all I could see was what he did to Marcy. All I wanted to do was-the same thing to him. And I did.
I let go of the arrow.
Cassie has told me a million times that I need to stop thinking of it that way. That Kon was there and he caught the arrow and I walked away, so I should let it go and get over it.
I can’t do that. Because if I let myself forget what I did-I risk forgetting why I had to quit. And I had to. I let go of the arrow. I aimed an arrow at a man’s heart and I let it go.
The worst thing is that I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew that by letting go, I would kill him. And-I wanted to.
If Kon hadn’t been there… If he hadn’t shown up out of nowhere and caught that arrow in midair-the first time he’d ever done that, too. All that time we’d spent playing at it and he never caught one, but he caught that arrow? Thank God. And the stupid baseball analogy he gave me. Taking back a pitch. I hate baseball.
But it was exactly the right thing to say. I don’t think I will ever stop being grateful to him for that day. I don’t know if I ever told him… God, I miss him.
Anyway. That is why I won’t ever be Arrowette again. If I’m being honest, I’m terrified that I’ll lose control like that again. I can’t say with absolute, 100% certainty that I will never lose control like that again. That if, God forbid, I’m ever put into a situation like that again, I won’t cross that line. I did it before. I don’t trust myself not to do it again.
I think about Kon, and Bart. If I were Arrowette, if I’d been there when they-could I have done anything to stop it? Probably not. But would I have chosen revenge over justice after they…
I don’t know.
Which is why I won’t risk it.