As I sit here contemplating how the heck I'm going to pay my rent in the next seven days, it brings me to a topic I'd like to share.
Although I may sound cynical today (please, if you were in my shoes, I wouldn't blame you for your negative thoughts), I really do have all my faculties and know exactly what I'm talking about.
I recently spoke to a class about domestic violence. As I stood at the front of the class, I managed to catch myself off guard. The realization that I've been going through this nonsense with my kids father, for 13 plus years, is absolutely absurd. It's a never ending path of torture and torment. Let this be a lesson to all you young women out there who stay with an abusive man for love. I'm living proof that love only gets you so far. My situation is as bad as I think it can get. I say as bad as "I" because this literally is the worst. We've lived in a DV shelter but even at that point there was always a hope that things would get better. I had a means to support the kids and I. Today, I have NO means. There's no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. No miracle job that's waiting for me. No NOTHING. This is it.
I'm digressing a bit from the actual purpose of my post this morning. Finances and your future have a lot to do with the type of man that you choose to date/marry. If I had looked a little closer at my ex and not focused so much on "I LOVE HIM". I wouldn't be in this situation. So here I sit, in a state away from my family, forgetting my faith and holding resentment toward the man that put me here. I try not to stereotype individuals but I'm going to put myself out there right now and say, if you're with a man that will abuse you, chances are he'll be a deadbeat father. Very rarely does a man who abuses his woman, have enough common decency to take care of his children. If he'll beat you, degrade you and take your money, why would you believe that he'll give you that money back in order to support his children. Abusers are selfish. They don't think about their victims. Their victims being you and your children. He's thinking about what makes "HIM" comfortable. What meets "HIS" needs. His needs are for you to obey him. He wants to know where you are. When you'll be home. Why it took so long. He wants to know who called you. He's comfortable knowing that he's taken you away from your own life. He's alienated you from your friends and family. He even, in certain circumstances, has taken the love of your children from you. I'm still fighting for my children's respect. If I had a dollar for every time "HE" told them they didn't have to listen to me because I was a bitch, I wouldn't be sitting here days away from being evicted from my home.
All I'm trying to say is that there's so much more at stake than losing the love of a man. It hurts. The effects are never ending. I know we all want that fairy tale life but you have to be strong enough to see through the deception. If you sit and ask yourself if the drama is worth it, you've all ready answered your question by asking it. There's no amount of drama worth your life. A man that loves you won't degrade you. He won't hit you or walk all over you. Love is beautiful. He'll be kind and generous. He'll be loving and compassionate.
As I've said in the past, I'm on my journey to finding my relationship with God. I'd like to leave you with this...
Scripture says love others as you would love yourself. We women do not think we are worth loving so we become doormats so that we can gain acceptance. This only makes the man who has been taught to disrespect women all of his life all the worse in this behavior. It is like adding fuel to a fire already lit by his behavior. We women have to come to the realization that the ultimate Father in heaven does not want his little girls hurt and would not condone this kind of treatment so we must not condone it either.
"Forgive them Father for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34)
“Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, For this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, Including every hidden thing, Whether it is good or evil. (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14)
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
How do I live again?
I've had hundreds of questions running through my mind for several months now. How do I stop blaming myself? Stop blaming myself for my error in judgement. How do I stop blaming myself for not seeing the warning signs? How do I stop blaming him and forgive him? Him! Why in the world would I want to forgive him? The answer is simple. So I can live.
I sit in my meager apartment and struggle to find the resources so I can provide my children their basic necessities. I left my home, family, job...everything I knew to start over. It just doesn't seem fair. I was the one beaten. I was the one abused. I was the one sexually assaulted. Why am I the one away from my home and the people who love me? Why am I struggling? The anger that wells up inside me is beyond comprehension. I feel it in every fiber of my being. At one point I probably would have said I hated him. Hated him for every bruise, broken bone, sleepless night and tear I cried. If you ask him, he'll probably say all of this is in my mind. He can't recall what I'm talking about. It's funny how we can't recall what we want to forget. Why would he have to recall anything? He doesn't have an ounce of shame or regret. He doesn't miss his kids or even care that he has children that are on the brink of homelessness. He doesn't care that I can't provide my rent money or electric money this month. He doesn't care that Christmas is coming and I can't buy the kids gifts. Why would he? He's free to live another day. Free to inflict the same pain and agony on another woman...possibly another woman like myself. Someone who thinks the world of him and gets nothing but abuse for all her love and devotion. Maybe I'm wrong...maybe not. There was a me before me and there will most likely be a me after me. I beg for clothes and money to pay my bills and he sits, jobless, and waits for a handout from a unsuspecting female. My son needs sneakers and I rely on the kindness of others to provide them. I should be able to make a phone call and say "Hey, can you send me some money because blah, blah, blah." Shoulda, coulda, woulda...but can't. I kick myself for picking him as a my husband.
I wanted to live again. I wanted to wake up and not hurt anymore. How can I make that a reality?
My anger and misery over shadowed my ability to live. If I wanted to move on, I'd have to forgive. I can't sit here and tell you that it's easy because it's one of the hardest things to do. I lived a life of physical and emotional abuse for 13 years. All those years that I wasted defined me as a person. They made me untrusting and skeptical. They made me angry and they made me hollow. I began searching for something to help me through my pain and anguish. I found God. All the emotional pain that I had buried in my heart was replaced by a profound love that I found with God! He will never abuse me. He will never forsake me. He will never leave me beaten, battered and bruised. He will never call me names. He will never leave me helpless and lonely. Most of all he will always be there for me in my time of need. He knows me and knows exactly what I need in my life. He loves me unconditionally...I am one of His children. Just as I love my children, He loves me. Just as I provide for my children, He will provide for me. All I need to do is keep my faith in Him. To most it sounds silly...to some it sounds foolish...to me, it's what saved me from my aching heart.
I sit in my meager apartment and struggle to find the resources so I can provide my children their basic necessities. I left my home, family, job...everything I knew to start over. It just doesn't seem fair. I was the one beaten. I was the one abused. I was the one sexually assaulted. Why am I the one away from my home and the people who love me? Why am I struggling? The anger that wells up inside me is beyond comprehension. I feel it in every fiber of my being. At one point I probably would have said I hated him. Hated him for every bruise, broken bone, sleepless night and tear I cried. If you ask him, he'll probably say all of this is in my mind. He can't recall what I'm talking about. It's funny how we can't recall what we want to forget. Why would he have to recall anything? He doesn't have an ounce of shame or regret. He doesn't miss his kids or even care that he has children that are on the brink of homelessness. He doesn't care that I can't provide my rent money or electric money this month. He doesn't care that Christmas is coming and I can't buy the kids gifts. Why would he? He's free to live another day. Free to inflict the same pain and agony on another woman...possibly another woman like myself. Someone who thinks the world of him and gets nothing but abuse for all her love and devotion. Maybe I'm wrong...maybe not. There was a me before me and there will most likely be a me after me. I beg for clothes and money to pay my bills and he sits, jobless, and waits for a handout from a unsuspecting female. My son needs sneakers and I rely on the kindness of others to provide them. I should be able to make a phone call and say "Hey, can you send me some money because blah, blah, blah." Shoulda, coulda, woulda...but can't. I kick myself for picking him as a my husband.
I wanted to live again. I wanted to wake up and not hurt anymore. How can I make that a reality?
My anger and misery over shadowed my ability to live. If I wanted to move on, I'd have to forgive. I can't sit here and tell you that it's easy because it's one of the hardest things to do. I lived a life of physical and emotional abuse for 13 years. All those years that I wasted defined me as a person. They made me untrusting and skeptical. They made me angry and they made me hollow. I began searching for something to help me through my pain and anguish. I found God. All the emotional pain that I had buried in my heart was replaced by a profound love that I found with God! He will never abuse me. He will never forsake me. He will never leave me beaten, battered and bruised. He will never call me names. He will never leave me helpless and lonely. Most of all he will always be there for me in my time of need. He knows me and knows exactly what I need in my life. He loves me unconditionally...I am one of His children. Just as I love my children, He loves me. Just as I provide for my children, He will provide for me. All I need to do is keep my faith in Him. To most it sounds silly...to some it sounds foolish...to me, it's what saved me from my aching heart.
Matthew 6:14–15
14 For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. 15 But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
The Vicious Cycle of Abuse
When I sit here and think about the 13 years I spent with my abuser, I can't help but think of all the wasted time I can never get back. I've just recently gained a new found appreciation for live as I've been faced with my own mortality.
I often contemplate my life and all the years I could have or should have changed something, however, no matter how hard I try I'll never get those lost years back. In 2007 I was diagnosed with a genetic disorder that causes cancer. Well, I was technically diagnosed the next year but everything starting falling apart back in 2007. It's been such a hard struggle and I still can't look at myself and figure out how I've made it this far.
I'll never speak ill of my parents and I love them dearly, however, growing up, it wasn't peaches and cream. We often struggled to make ends meet but my parents always provided our necessities. We never went without food, clothes or a roof over our heads, however, before my mother met my step father it was a much different story...
I have vivid memories of my mother being physically abused. I have a vision that plays over and over in my head. My mother was standing in our bathroom and this man (who shall remain nameless) walked into the bathroom and started arguing with her. He had a can of vegetable in his hand and threw them at her stomach. I don't remember much after that as I ran away as fast as I could. I remember so many fights and arguments. It seems that was a staple in our home. As well rounded children we grow up with a positive expectation of what life should be but what happens when our perception of normal isn't really normal? Normal to a child that grew up in an abusive home isn't normal to one that grew up with love, understanding and compassion. We learn what we live. When I grew up and met my abuser, I knew in my heart it didn't feel right but I let it go because it's what I remember as a child. This was the way it's supposed to be. Domestic Violence is a vicious cycle that needs to be stopped. It's up to us, as women, to say, no more. If we don't want our daughters to be abused, then we need not be abused. If we don't want our sons to be abusers, then we bring them up on righteous path. We all have the ability to break the cycle.
How do we break the cycle?
The first step is to recognize the abuse. Domestic abuse can be anything from verbal abuse (calling you names and/or threatening you) to physical violence (kicking, punching, pushing). It can also be something less obvious as jealousy or alienation (alienating you from family and friends).
The next step is to tell someone. Tell anyone; your friend, neighbor or doctor. It may be hard to open up at first but you'll feel so much better afterwards. Don't be afraid or ashamed.. This isn't your fault and people want to help you.
Third step is to create a safety plan. Call a women's shelter or domestic violence hotline for advice. Make the call at a safe time when the abuser is not around or from a friend's house or other safe location. Pack an emergency bag that includes items you'll need when you leave, such as extra clothes and keys. Hide it or leave the bag with a friend or neighbor. Keep important personal papers, money and prescription medications handy so that you can take them with you on short notice. One other very important piece of information. A lot of abusers threaten to take your children. One thing that helped me throughout my journey was keeping every piece of information regarding the abuse. I kept police reports, phone and hospital records. I had my boss keep records in my personnel file just in case I ever needed proof of something. I was able to go to family court and get full, legal custody of my children. The courts will help you. Most courts, if not all, have domestic violence advocates to help you through the process. Lean on them for support. Know exactly where you'll go and how you'll get there, even if you have to leave in the middle of the night.
Of course these are only suggestions but they worked for me and my children.
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-SAFE or 800-799-7233. Call the hotline for crisis intervention and referrals to resources, such as women's shelters.
I often contemplate my life and all the years I could have or should have changed something, however, no matter how hard I try I'll never get those lost years back. In 2007 I was diagnosed with a genetic disorder that causes cancer. Well, I was technically diagnosed the next year but everything starting falling apart back in 2007. It's been such a hard struggle and I still can't look at myself and figure out how I've made it this far.
I'll never speak ill of my parents and I love them dearly, however, growing up, it wasn't peaches and cream. We often struggled to make ends meet but my parents always provided our necessities. We never went without food, clothes or a roof over our heads, however, before my mother met my step father it was a much different story...
I have vivid memories of my mother being physically abused. I have a vision that plays over and over in my head. My mother was standing in our bathroom and this man (who shall remain nameless) walked into the bathroom and started arguing with her. He had a can of vegetable in his hand and threw them at her stomach. I don't remember much after that as I ran away as fast as I could. I remember so many fights and arguments. It seems that was a staple in our home. As well rounded children we grow up with a positive expectation of what life should be but what happens when our perception of normal isn't really normal? Normal to a child that grew up in an abusive home isn't normal to one that grew up with love, understanding and compassion. We learn what we live. When I grew up and met my abuser, I knew in my heart it didn't feel right but I let it go because it's what I remember as a child. This was the way it's supposed to be. Domestic Violence is a vicious cycle that needs to be stopped. It's up to us, as women, to say, no more. If we don't want our daughters to be abused, then we need not be abused. If we don't want our sons to be abusers, then we bring them up on righteous path. We all have the ability to break the cycle.
How do we break the cycle?
The first step is to recognize the abuse. Domestic abuse can be anything from verbal abuse (calling you names and/or threatening you) to physical violence (kicking, punching, pushing). It can also be something less obvious as jealousy or alienation (alienating you from family and friends).
The next step is to tell someone. Tell anyone; your friend, neighbor or doctor. It may be hard to open up at first but you'll feel so much better afterwards. Don't be afraid or ashamed.. This isn't your fault and people want to help you.
Third step is to create a safety plan. Call a women's shelter or domestic violence hotline for advice. Make the call at a safe time when the abuser is not around or from a friend's house or other safe location. Pack an emergency bag that includes items you'll need when you leave, such as extra clothes and keys. Hide it or leave the bag with a friend or neighbor. Keep important personal papers, money and prescription medications handy so that you can take them with you on short notice. One other very important piece of information. A lot of abusers threaten to take your children. One thing that helped me throughout my journey was keeping every piece of information regarding the abuse. I kept police reports, phone and hospital records. I had my boss keep records in my personnel file just in case I ever needed proof of something. I was able to go to family court and get full, legal custody of my children. The courts will help you. Most courts, if not all, have domestic violence advocates to help you through the process. Lean on them for support. Know exactly where you'll go and how you'll get there, even if you have to leave in the middle of the night.
Of course these are only suggestions but they worked for me and my children.
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-SAFE or 800-799-7233. Call the hotline for crisis intervention and referrals to resources, such as women's shelters.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Through the Eyes of a Child
As a single mother I hold a lot of guilt about the way I handled my marriage. In all my "rational" thinking, I always stayed for the sake of my children. I never wanted them to be fatherless or feel abandoned.
The painful effects of an abusive relationship reach so much farther than the emotional or physical wounds we feel as the primary victim. It also affects our children, friends and family. In my situation, although I felt the blows, suffered the physical injuries and took the brunt of his abuse, my children were forever traumatized by his actions.
I'd like to step away from being the primary victim in this blog and put emphasis on seeing this through the eyes of a child. I always say I have no regrets in my life, however, if I could change anything about the way I handled my relationship, it would be for the sake of my children. I'm going to tread lightly here because my oldest daughter will most likely read this. The last thing I want to happen is for her to feel embarrassed by anything I write. I'd like to say my oldest daughter is the person that gave me the strength and courage to leave my abuser. I never thought I was strong enough to stand up for myself. After one physical altercation my daughter, she was 12 at the time, put herself in harm's way. She put herself between her father and I. She looked at him and said, "You're not going to hit my mother. Leave her alone". I think it probably shocked him more than me because this was a child that he systematically and emotionally broke down and made feel like she was a nothing. After that incident, I remembered thinking, if my child can stand up to her father and not be afraid, why can't I? I made the decision to leave that night. Although it took me a little while to get my plan together, the decision was made that no matter what, we were leaving for good. So Tish, if you're reading this... I know I've told you before but I love you and thank you for showing me that I could do this. You were such a rock throughout this whole ordeal. So young but so intelligent and brave. {{hugs and kisses}}
My children had to grow up way before their time. I know my babies are still little but I feel like they and I missed out on so much because I let this man take away my mind and body. He took from me the things I needed to care for my kids properly. My kids had a shell of a mother and not the mother they deserved. My daughter deserved to be hugged and kissed. She deserved to have sleepovers and pizza parties. She never got any of those things because I was ashamed. I didn't want anyone to know what our life was like behind closed doors.
Children suffer so many effects after witnessing family violence. Things such as low self esteem, feelings of loneliness, not fitting in, anxieties and/or feelings of guilt from not being able to stop the violence. We as adults handle stresses in different ways but can you imagine being a vulnerable child and watching your Mommy, the person who is suppose to love you more than anything in this world, being physically and/or verbally abused? The thought is heartbreaking.
My daughter doesn't trust me and feels like I'm incapable of handling my own personal life and relationships with men. She feels like she always has to protect me and her siblings. She never knew what her role was in our family. We don't share hugs and kisses and sometimes can't tell each other our feelings.
My 7 year old son suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and/or ADHD. We don't know which is the case as the symptoms of both run hand in hand. He has a hard time communicating his needs and wants without the use of violence and name calling. He struggles in school and is always seeking approval. He often lashes out and says he wishes he was never a part of our family.
My 5 year old son is the most sensitive of all my children. He cries at the drop of a dime. He always gives kisses and hugs and will tell me every day that he loves me and he's happy I'm his mom. He's very creative and weird (LOL in a good way. Ask any one of my kids and they'll all say he's such a weird little boy). Once in a while he'll make a remark about something he's remembered in the past. Just the other day he asked me, "Mom, do you remember when our dad in New York broke your car?" He was referring to an incident when I tried to leave and their father pulled the battery cables out of the car so we couldn't go anywhere.
My 4 year old son is emotionally detached. He's shy and afraid of everything. If you kiss him, he giggles and I think it's because he doesn't know how to handle emotions such as love and happiness. He's developmentally delayed and is more on the wave length of my youngest daughter. He's timid and very weary of people.
My 3 year old daughter I think is the only one not affected by the violence as she was too young to remember. I left my abuser when she was just an infant. I see her and I see all that is good in this world. She looks at life through the eyes of an innocent 3 year old. She doesn't know violence and has never seen Daddy hit Mommy. She tells everyone that they're beautiful. She wakes up in the morning and tells me how pretty my hair is and how gorgeous I look. So precious and sweet.
As you can see, the effects of witnessing family violence last a very long time. We've been removed from the situation for three years and my children still deal with the memories daily. Instead of using our children as excuses for staying in an abusive relationship we need to make them the number one reason for leaving. Children are helpless no matter what their ages. They look to us to make the right decisions for them. I promise you, the hardest thing to do, is to look into the eyes of a child that you should have protected and see all the damage that's been done because you didn't.
I've asked a very dear friend of mine to contribute to this topic. I've asked her to write something from the eyes of a child who lived through the nightmare of domestic violence. I feel her input will greatly impact many of you that read this blog. Hopefully within the next week I'll be able to share her story with you all.
I'd like to leave you all with the following:
Mark 10:13-16
13 And they were bringing children to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. 14 But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. 15 Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” 16 And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.
Proverbs 22:6
6 Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.
The painful effects of an abusive relationship reach so much farther than the emotional or physical wounds we feel as the primary victim. It also affects our children, friends and family. In my situation, although I felt the blows, suffered the physical injuries and took the brunt of his abuse, my children were forever traumatized by his actions.
I'd like to step away from being the primary victim in this blog and put emphasis on seeing this through the eyes of a child. I always say I have no regrets in my life, however, if I could change anything about the way I handled my relationship, it would be for the sake of my children. I'm going to tread lightly here because my oldest daughter will most likely read this. The last thing I want to happen is for her to feel embarrassed by anything I write. I'd like to say my oldest daughter is the person that gave me the strength and courage to leave my abuser. I never thought I was strong enough to stand up for myself. After one physical altercation my daughter, she was 12 at the time, put herself in harm's way. She put herself between her father and I. She looked at him and said, "You're not going to hit my mother. Leave her alone". I think it probably shocked him more than me because this was a child that he systematically and emotionally broke down and made feel like she was a nothing. After that incident, I remembered thinking, if my child can stand up to her father and not be afraid, why can't I? I made the decision to leave that night. Although it took me a little while to get my plan together, the decision was made that no matter what, we were leaving for good. So Tish, if you're reading this... I know I've told you before but I love you and thank you for showing me that I could do this. You were such a rock throughout this whole ordeal. So young but so intelligent and brave. {{hugs and kisses}}
My children had to grow up way before their time. I know my babies are still little but I feel like they and I missed out on so much because I let this man take away my mind and body. He took from me the things I needed to care for my kids properly. My kids had a shell of a mother and not the mother they deserved. My daughter deserved to be hugged and kissed. She deserved to have sleepovers and pizza parties. She never got any of those things because I was ashamed. I didn't want anyone to know what our life was like behind closed doors.
Children suffer so many effects after witnessing family violence. Things such as low self esteem, feelings of loneliness, not fitting in, anxieties and/or feelings of guilt from not being able to stop the violence. We as adults handle stresses in different ways but can you imagine being a vulnerable child and watching your Mommy, the person who is suppose to love you more than anything in this world, being physically and/or verbally abused? The thought is heartbreaking.
My daughter doesn't trust me and feels like I'm incapable of handling my own personal life and relationships with men. She feels like she always has to protect me and her siblings. She never knew what her role was in our family. We don't share hugs and kisses and sometimes can't tell each other our feelings.
My 7 year old son suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and/or ADHD. We don't know which is the case as the symptoms of both run hand in hand. He has a hard time communicating his needs and wants without the use of violence and name calling. He struggles in school and is always seeking approval. He often lashes out and says he wishes he was never a part of our family.
My 5 year old son is the most sensitive of all my children. He cries at the drop of a dime. He always gives kisses and hugs and will tell me every day that he loves me and he's happy I'm his mom. He's very creative and weird (LOL in a good way. Ask any one of my kids and they'll all say he's such a weird little boy). Once in a while he'll make a remark about something he's remembered in the past. Just the other day he asked me, "Mom, do you remember when our dad in New York broke your car?" He was referring to an incident when I tried to leave and their father pulled the battery cables out of the car so we couldn't go anywhere.
My 4 year old son is emotionally detached. He's shy and afraid of everything. If you kiss him, he giggles and I think it's because he doesn't know how to handle emotions such as love and happiness. He's developmentally delayed and is more on the wave length of my youngest daughter. He's timid and very weary of people.
My 3 year old daughter I think is the only one not affected by the violence as she was too young to remember. I left my abuser when she was just an infant. I see her and I see all that is good in this world. She looks at life through the eyes of an innocent 3 year old. She doesn't know violence and has never seen Daddy hit Mommy. She tells everyone that they're beautiful. She wakes up in the morning and tells me how pretty my hair is and how gorgeous I look. So precious and sweet.
As you can see, the effects of witnessing family violence last a very long time. We've been removed from the situation for three years and my children still deal with the memories daily. Instead of using our children as excuses for staying in an abusive relationship we need to make them the number one reason for leaving. Children are helpless no matter what their ages. They look to us to make the right decisions for them. I promise you, the hardest thing to do, is to look into the eyes of a child that you should have protected and see all the damage that's been done because you didn't.
I've asked a very dear friend of mine to contribute to this topic. I've asked her to write something from the eyes of a child who lived through the nightmare of domestic violence. I feel her input will greatly impact many of you that read this blog. Hopefully within the next week I'll be able to share her story with you all.
I'd like to leave you all with the following:
Mark 10:13-16
13 And they were bringing children to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. 14 But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. 15 Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” 16 And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.
Proverbs 22:6
6 Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Sharing Intimate Memories
Since starting this blog I haven't really shared to much of my actual survival story. I'd like to take this time to open up and let you all in..... There's some language and violence that follows.
I met my abuser many, many years ago. It almost seems like an eternity but it's funny how it all feels like yesterday. I won't really go into how we met but more or less tell you about our life together. My abuser, from the outside seemed like such a warm, caring and genuine person. To most who didn't know him, he was a great father and husband but to me, he gave evil a face.
Our relationship, like most other abusive relationships started out like a fairy tale. He made promises to always love and cherish me. Then everything started to change. Those words of love turned to words of hate and disdain. You're ugly, worthless, pathetic and useless. He slowly took my self esteem and made me really feel ugly and worthless. One thing that I've learned from my experiences is that my abuser masked his own inadequacies by lashing out and calling me all the names he secretly felt about himself.
Before I move on with my story, I compiled a small list of warning signs that the person you're with is abusive:
1. Shows extreme jealousy and wants to keep the woman isolated.
2. Has an inability to cope with stress and shows a lack of impulse control.
3. Has a poor self-image and blames others for problems.
4. Shows severe mood swings.
5. May have a history of abuse in his own family and may have been abusive in courtship.
6. Presents a history of personal and/or family discord; unemployment, cruelty to animals, abuse of alcohol or other substances, and other unexplained behavior.
In hindsight I can say my abuser exhibited every one of those behaviors and for reasons I still can't explain, I never paid attention. I always say I wouldn't change any of my life's experiences because I was shaped from those experiences, however, I wish I saw the warning signs and listened to those who tried to warn me.
As I stated earlier, the abuse I suffered started out as verbal. I was called names like slut, whore and bitch. I was called worthless if he came home and the house wasn't clean. He never took into consideration that I had worked all day. I was useless if I didn't get up at 2:30am and cook him dinner because he didn't bother to show up when I made the kids dinner. I was always fat when I wanted to eat and should have been thankful he even wanted to look at me.
Verbal abuse gets old very fast and quickly turns to violence. I remember the very first time my abuser was physical with me...It was shortly after we had gotten together. He was talking on the phone with his sister and I interrupted him by asking a question. He slammed the bedroom door in my face which I thought was extremely rude. I opened the door and as soon as it was opened far enough where he could see my face, he punched me and knocked me to the ground. I don't know why I was so shocked because the warning signs were there. I was speechless and hurt. I think I sat there for what seemed like hours, holding my face. I knew he was shouting obscenities at me but they were blocked out by the disbelief. I probably should have shouted back or lost control but the only thing that came to my mind was to withdraw myself. Be quiet because he may hit me again. Don't cry because he'll just tell you, you deserved it . Don't look at him because he'll show no remorse. I went to work the next day with a black eye. That was the first time he sent me flowers. I like to call them the "I'm sorry, I'll never do it again" flowers. I wish I could sit here and say it never happened again but that's not the case. It happened hundreds of times afterwards.
If I look at myself in the mirror I can point to a scar and tell you exactly the time I got it. I have two scars on my elbow where I had two different broken bones. Each was caused by my abuser throwing a bowl at me. I have one on my right leg where he threw a set of keys at me. Another one located on the back of my arm where he dug his nails into my skin because I wanted to get away from him.
The most serious of them all was caused by a night of heavy drinking and drug abuse. The night that left me badly beaten and bloody....
My daughter was staying at my parent’s house and I was home alone. He came home at 2:00 am paranoid because of the crack in his body. He woke me up out of a sound sleep by punching me in the abdomen. He was screaming at me because he saw my boyfriend running out the back door. My boyfriend? I didn't have a boyfriend. I didn't even have friends. Bitch I know he was here. I saw him, you lying whore. I knew you were a slut. I see it all over your ugly face. I'm not a whore. I don't cheat on you. I love you. Please don't do this. I've been home waiting for you. Please don't hit me. Please leave me alone. Bitch I know. I know all about your boyfriend. I feel his fist hit my cheek as the pain rushes down my face. I felt the blood pouring from the broken cartilage in my ear. I could taste the blood in my mouth from the split lip. I could feel the air leaving my body as he closed his hands around my throat. I hit the floor. The pain from his boot pierced my back. I tried to crawl to the bathroom...If I could just get to the bathroom, I'd be safe. Oh God please help me. Please help me. I'm going to die. My baby needs me. Please help me. Make it stop. Make him go away. If there's a God please make it stop. Blood was everywhere. I thought I was screaming for help but I couldn't hear anything but the ringing in my ears. Why wasn't anyone helping me? Didn't they hear me? The gaping wound on the side of my head, left when he struck me with a trophy, was pouring blood. My arm hurt so bad... I couldn't fight back. Blow after blow...punch after punch. I couldn't escape. I asked God to please make sure my daughter was taken care of because I knew this was going to be my last day on this earth. It was as if my prayer was answered. As quickly as his drug induced rage began, it stopped. I lay on the floor in a pool of my own blood, afraid to open my eyes. Where was he? What was he doing? I needed to escape. I opened my eyes long enough to see him peeking out the window. Something in the window must have caught his attention. The paranoia from the drugs had a grip on him. This was my chance. I gathered every ounce of courage I could muster and ran to the front door. Thank God it opened. I ran outside, no shoes, no coat, in nothing but a t-shirt. I screamed as loud as I could... Running down the street, battered and bloody...HELP ME!! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!!! HELP!! HELP!! I ran to my neighbor’s house. I pounded on her door for what seemed liked forever. Oh please open the door. Oh God please let her open the door. Hurry! Please! He's going to come. He's going to find me. Please! When the door finally opened, I remember seeing her face. She looked as if she had seen a ghost. I whispered to her, "Please help me". I don't remember much after that. I remember waking up and seeing lights; ambulance, fire department and the police. When I was asked who did this to me, the only thing I could say was... I don't know.
After all is said and done, I sit here with tears in my eyes as I relive the most terrifying moments in my life. It's still very hard to come to grips with the denial I felt at that time. Although this was almost 10 years ago, the emotional pain I feel is unbearable. I could have died that night. Instead of thinking about me and my child... I thought of him. I don't want to see the man I love in jail. It wasn't that bad. I'm still here. He promised never to do it again......
Matthew 24:13
"But the one who endures to the end will be saved."
I met my abuser many, many years ago. It almost seems like an eternity but it's funny how it all feels like yesterday. I won't really go into how we met but more or less tell you about our life together. My abuser, from the outside seemed like such a warm, caring and genuine person. To most who didn't know him, he was a great father and husband but to me, he gave evil a face.
Our relationship, like most other abusive relationships started out like a fairy tale. He made promises to always love and cherish me. Then everything started to change. Those words of love turned to words of hate and disdain. You're ugly, worthless, pathetic and useless. He slowly took my self esteem and made me really feel ugly and worthless. One thing that I've learned from my experiences is that my abuser masked his own inadequacies by lashing out and calling me all the names he secretly felt about himself.
Before I move on with my story, I compiled a small list of warning signs that the person you're with is abusive:
1. Shows extreme jealousy and wants to keep the woman isolated.
2. Has an inability to cope with stress and shows a lack of impulse control.
3. Has a poor self-image and blames others for problems.
4. Shows severe mood swings.
5. May have a history of abuse in his own family and may have been abusive in courtship.
6. Presents a history of personal and/or family discord; unemployment, cruelty to animals, abuse of alcohol or other substances, and other unexplained behavior.
In hindsight I can say my abuser exhibited every one of those behaviors and for reasons I still can't explain, I never paid attention. I always say I wouldn't change any of my life's experiences because I was shaped from those experiences, however, I wish I saw the warning signs and listened to those who tried to warn me.
As I stated earlier, the abuse I suffered started out as verbal. I was called names like slut, whore and bitch. I was called worthless if he came home and the house wasn't clean. He never took into consideration that I had worked all day. I was useless if I didn't get up at 2:30am and cook him dinner because he didn't bother to show up when I made the kids dinner. I was always fat when I wanted to eat and should have been thankful he even wanted to look at me.
Verbal abuse gets old very fast and quickly turns to violence. I remember the very first time my abuser was physical with me...It was shortly after we had gotten together. He was talking on the phone with his sister and I interrupted him by asking a question. He slammed the bedroom door in my face which I thought was extremely rude. I opened the door and as soon as it was opened far enough where he could see my face, he punched me and knocked me to the ground. I don't know why I was so shocked because the warning signs were there. I was speechless and hurt. I think I sat there for what seemed like hours, holding my face. I knew he was shouting obscenities at me but they were blocked out by the disbelief. I probably should have shouted back or lost control but the only thing that came to my mind was to withdraw myself. Be quiet because he may hit me again. Don't cry because he'll just tell you, you deserved it . Don't look at him because he'll show no remorse. I went to work the next day with a black eye. That was the first time he sent me flowers. I like to call them the "I'm sorry, I'll never do it again" flowers. I wish I could sit here and say it never happened again but that's not the case. It happened hundreds of times afterwards.
If I look at myself in the mirror I can point to a scar and tell you exactly the time I got it. I have two scars on my elbow where I had two different broken bones. Each was caused by my abuser throwing a bowl at me. I have one on my right leg where he threw a set of keys at me. Another one located on the back of my arm where he dug his nails into my skin because I wanted to get away from him.
The most serious of them all was caused by a night of heavy drinking and drug abuse. The night that left me badly beaten and bloody....
My daughter was staying at my parent’s house and I was home alone. He came home at 2:00 am paranoid because of the crack in his body. He woke me up out of a sound sleep by punching me in the abdomen. He was screaming at me because he saw my boyfriend running out the back door. My boyfriend? I didn't have a boyfriend. I didn't even have friends. Bitch I know he was here. I saw him, you lying whore. I knew you were a slut. I see it all over your ugly face. I'm not a whore. I don't cheat on you. I love you. Please don't do this. I've been home waiting for you. Please don't hit me. Please leave me alone. Bitch I know. I know all about your boyfriend. I feel his fist hit my cheek as the pain rushes down my face. I felt the blood pouring from the broken cartilage in my ear. I could taste the blood in my mouth from the split lip. I could feel the air leaving my body as he closed his hands around my throat. I hit the floor. The pain from his boot pierced my back. I tried to crawl to the bathroom...If I could just get to the bathroom, I'd be safe. Oh God please help me. Please help me. I'm going to die. My baby needs me. Please help me. Make it stop. Make him go away. If there's a God please make it stop. Blood was everywhere. I thought I was screaming for help but I couldn't hear anything but the ringing in my ears. Why wasn't anyone helping me? Didn't they hear me? The gaping wound on the side of my head, left when he struck me with a trophy, was pouring blood. My arm hurt so bad... I couldn't fight back. Blow after blow...punch after punch. I couldn't escape. I asked God to please make sure my daughter was taken care of because I knew this was going to be my last day on this earth. It was as if my prayer was answered. As quickly as his drug induced rage began, it stopped. I lay on the floor in a pool of my own blood, afraid to open my eyes. Where was he? What was he doing? I needed to escape. I opened my eyes long enough to see him peeking out the window. Something in the window must have caught his attention. The paranoia from the drugs had a grip on him. This was my chance. I gathered every ounce of courage I could muster and ran to the front door. Thank God it opened. I ran outside, no shoes, no coat, in nothing but a t-shirt. I screamed as loud as I could... Running down the street, battered and bloody...HELP ME!! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!!! HELP!! HELP!! I ran to my neighbor’s house. I pounded on her door for what seemed liked forever. Oh please open the door. Oh God please let her open the door. Hurry! Please! He's going to come. He's going to find me. Please! When the door finally opened, I remember seeing her face. She looked as if she had seen a ghost. I whispered to her, "Please help me". I don't remember much after that. I remember waking up and seeing lights; ambulance, fire department and the police. When I was asked who did this to me, the only thing I could say was... I don't know.
After all is said and done, I sit here with tears in my eyes as I relive the most terrifying moments in my life. It's still very hard to come to grips with the denial I felt at that time. Although this was almost 10 years ago, the emotional pain I feel is unbearable. I could have died that night. Instead of thinking about me and my child... I thought of him. I don't want to see the man I love in jail. It wasn't that bad. I'm still here. He promised never to do it again......
Matthew 24:13
"But the one who endures to the end will be saved."
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Reason VS Excuse
I was going to wait until later on to go into details about my personal reasons/excuses for staying and finally leaving my abusive husband, however, someone approached me yesterday and I thought it was really important to share those today.
I'm a firm believer that there's a difference between an excuse and a reason for doing or not doing something. I see a reason as an explanation for why something is the way it is. A reason is usually a rational thought made by clear thinking. An excuse is an explanation for why something is the way it is, that involves the blame being put on something else or in some occasions, ourselves. Excuses are usually irrational thoughts driven by emotions.
I'm going to make a little bucket list of reasons/excuses that I feel all victims of domestic violence think about. When I'm finished I'd like to point out something very interesting to you.
Excuses for Staying
1. I have to stay because I can't take children's father away from them.
2. I have to stay because it's my responsibility to keep my family together.
3. I have to stay because I'm afraid I can't make it on my own.
4. I have to stay because I'm afraid of the unknown.
5. I have to stay because it's my duty to be a good wife.
6. I have to stay because I'm scared to leave.
7. I have to stay because I love him.
8. I have to stay because I can't take my kids away from their home, family and friends.
9. I have to stay because it's going to hurt seeing him with another woman.
Reasons for Leaving
1. I'm leaving because this is unhealthy for me.
2. I'm leaving because we deserve better.
3. I'm leaving because I'm afraid to stay.
4. I'm leaving because I want to live.
5. I'm leaving because I have courage and strength.
6. I'm leaving because this is unfair to my children.
7. I'm leaving because there is no love here.
I probably could have made these lists a mile long, however, I just wanted to make a point. I have them categorized under two heading. Excuses for staying. Reasons for leaving. If you look at my list of excuses, you clearly see a pattern of self blame and statements made by emotions. I'm afraid to leave. I love him. My children need their father. I can't see him with someone else. I blamed myself and my children.
My reasons for leaving were built on rational thoughts and with a clear head. There is no love here. I want to live. I have courage and strength. We deserve better.
I do a lot of thinking about the past and the reasons why I've done the things I've done or said the things I've said. I can remember dozens of times when I arrived at work with a black eye or bruise. I even showed up on an occasion or two with broken bones. I knew my boss and co-workers knew the truth but I always felt the need to make an excuse for what happened. I didn't want people to laugh at me. I didn't want others to look down upon me. Even in some sick irrational thinking, I didn't want anyone to think bad of him. With all that being said, my black eye was caused by being hit with a baseball while playing with my kids. My broken elbow was caused by tripping Thanksgiving morning and hitting my elbow on the table. My broken finger was caused by shutting the car door on it. In reality I was beaten, broken and bloodied by the man that I didn't want people to look down upon. We as domestic violence victims tend to make any excuse conceivable so no one knows our dirty little secret. I'm here today to say NO MORE EXCUSES!!! Start making those lists of reasons. I can make it on my own. I can live free of fear. I can be the mother, sister, daughter that God wants me to be. He can't take anything else away from you unless you let him. He's taken your pride. He's taken your dignity. In some occasions, he's taken your friends and family. Don't let him take your life too. I make this promise to you. It's hard BUT in the end it's so very worth it. There are times when you'll want to give up and run back because you just know your heart is going to fall from your chest. There will be times when the tears will stream from your eyes because you know you're not going to make it. I'm here to tell you, you will make it. I did. I leaned on complete strangers. There are so many good people in this world who will help you. You're never alone.
In the next few weeks I'm going to post a list of resources that can help someone in need of assistance. I've been in your shoes. I've lived in a domestic violence shelter. My children and I started over with nothing...
In my road to healing I'd like to make my first confession. I know there are members of my family that don't know the true reasons behind us leaving. I left because I was afraid. I was afraid to sleep at night. I was afraid my children weren't going to have a mother one day. I felt I couldn't ask for help. I didn't want anyone to know the full extent of the abuse I suffered. I let you see the person I wanted you to see, not the person I really was.
One of my favorite people to quote is Eleanore Roosevelt. She was a very smart woman and I'd like to leave you with this...
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
Psalm 112:4
Even in darkness light dawns for the upright, for the gracious and compassionate and righteous man.
I'm a firm believer that there's a difference between an excuse and a reason for doing or not doing something. I see a reason as an explanation for why something is the way it is. A reason is usually a rational thought made by clear thinking. An excuse is an explanation for why something is the way it is, that involves the blame being put on something else or in some occasions, ourselves. Excuses are usually irrational thoughts driven by emotions.
I'm going to make a little bucket list of reasons/excuses that I feel all victims of domestic violence think about. When I'm finished I'd like to point out something very interesting to you.
Excuses for Staying
1. I have to stay because I can't take children's father away from them.
2. I have to stay because it's my responsibility to keep my family together.
3. I have to stay because I'm afraid I can't make it on my own.
4. I have to stay because I'm afraid of the unknown.
5. I have to stay because it's my duty to be a good wife.
6. I have to stay because I'm scared to leave.
7. I have to stay because I love him.
8. I have to stay because I can't take my kids away from their home, family and friends.
9. I have to stay because it's going to hurt seeing him with another woman.
Reasons for Leaving
1. I'm leaving because this is unhealthy for me.
2. I'm leaving because we deserve better.
3. I'm leaving because I'm afraid to stay.
4. I'm leaving because I want to live.
5. I'm leaving because I have courage and strength.
6. I'm leaving because this is unfair to my children.
7. I'm leaving because there is no love here.
I probably could have made these lists a mile long, however, I just wanted to make a point. I have them categorized under two heading. Excuses for staying. Reasons for leaving. If you look at my list of excuses, you clearly see a pattern of self blame and statements made by emotions. I'm afraid to leave. I love him. My children need their father. I can't see him with someone else. I blamed myself and my children.
My reasons for leaving were built on rational thoughts and with a clear head. There is no love here. I want to live. I have courage and strength. We deserve better.
I do a lot of thinking about the past and the reasons why I've done the things I've done or said the things I've said. I can remember dozens of times when I arrived at work with a black eye or bruise. I even showed up on an occasion or two with broken bones. I knew my boss and co-workers knew the truth but I always felt the need to make an excuse for what happened. I didn't want people to laugh at me. I didn't want others to look down upon me. Even in some sick irrational thinking, I didn't want anyone to think bad of him. With all that being said, my black eye was caused by being hit with a baseball while playing with my kids. My broken elbow was caused by tripping Thanksgiving morning and hitting my elbow on the table. My broken finger was caused by shutting the car door on it. In reality I was beaten, broken and bloodied by the man that I didn't want people to look down upon. We as domestic violence victims tend to make any excuse conceivable so no one knows our dirty little secret. I'm here today to say NO MORE EXCUSES!!! Start making those lists of reasons. I can make it on my own. I can live free of fear. I can be the mother, sister, daughter that God wants me to be. He can't take anything else away from you unless you let him. He's taken your pride. He's taken your dignity. In some occasions, he's taken your friends and family. Don't let him take your life too. I make this promise to you. It's hard BUT in the end it's so very worth it. There are times when you'll want to give up and run back because you just know your heart is going to fall from your chest. There will be times when the tears will stream from your eyes because you know you're not going to make it. I'm here to tell you, you will make it. I did. I leaned on complete strangers. There are so many good people in this world who will help you. You're never alone.
In the next few weeks I'm going to post a list of resources that can help someone in need of assistance. I've been in your shoes. I've lived in a domestic violence shelter. My children and I started over with nothing...
In my road to healing I'd like to make my first confession. I know there are members of my family that don't know the true reasons behind us leaving. I left because I was afraid. I was afraid to sleep at night. I was afraid my children weren't going to have a mother one day. I felt I couldn't ask for help. I didn't want anyone to know the full extent of the abuse I suffered. I let you see the person I wanted you to see, not the person I really was.
One of my favorite people to quote is Eleanore Roosevelt. She was a very smart woman and I'd like to leave you with this...
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
Psalm 112:4
Even in darkness light dawns for the upright, for the gracious and compassionate and righteous man.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
We Fall In Love...
As little girls we grow up with a vision of how we want our lives to be. Most of us envision falling in love, getting married, buying the beautiful house with the pickett fence, having our babies and then living happily ever after. We look for that man who will love us unconditionally, be kind and generous...by all definitions the man the bible describes.
Ephesians 5:22, 28-31. "Wives submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is head of the wife, even as Christ is head of the church; and he is the savior of the body. Therefore as the church is subject to Christ, so let wives be to their own husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wife as Christ also loved the church and gave himself for it . . . So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church . . . For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh".
So what happens when falling in love doesn't lead to all those beautiful and amazing things? What happens when the man that's suppose to protect you is the one that makes you feel less than human?
For the longest time I thought I did something wrong. I would sit for hours upon hours, disect every memorable moment in my life and wonder was it that particular moment that caused this to happen to me. Why was I being punished? Now that I've been removed from the situation I can sit here and say, "I DID NOTHING TO DESERVE IT!!" It wasn't me. It was him. He's to blame for treating me badly. I was his wife. The mother of his children. He failed me. The only thing I was guilty of was falling in love with a jealous and controlling man. I learned very quickly that once I said the words outloud, it was much easier to believe. It reminds me of an alcoholics 12 step treatment program. The first step is admitting you're an alcoholic. As a domestic violence survivor, admitting you were in fact a victim is the first step to surviving the abuse.
I was in denial for a very long time. I found myself rationalizing. I'm not a victim. I choose to stay in this marriage (for reason I'll later explain). There came a point when I would fight back. How am I a victim if I'm fighting back? I'm not a victim. I let him do these things to me. I let him say mean things to me. I let him take all my money. I let him in the front door when he came home drunk and high. I let him dehumanize me. How does that make me a victim? I'll tell you why. As victims, we fail to see how traumatized we are. A traumatized mind makes traumatized decisions. Unless we remove ourselves from these unhealthy situations we continue to make the same traumatized decisions...over and over again.
One of the reasons I've decided to create this blog for other domestic violence victims is because listening to someone else's story helped me heal myself. Knowing that I wasn't alone and knowing that I wasn't the only one feeling confused and scared turned my life around. We as women need to realize that we deserve so much more than what we settle for. We deserve to find our prince charming. We deserve to have a man that loves us as Christ loved the church. We deserve to fall in love, have our beautiful house with the pickett fence but most of all, our babies deserve to live in a home filled with love, kindness and understanding.
Throughout my daily blogs you'll see references to Christ, God and the bible. I'm on a journey of discovering the person God created me to be. During my journey I've found resources that have helped me on my way. The following is something that I found very interesting,
"When an abused woman does ask the church for help, it is important to remember that God has always asked people of strength to come to the assistance of those who are weak and oppressed. (Ezek. 34:4).
The woman who passively allows her husband to abuse her may be sincerely trying to be obedient to the principles of (1 Peter 3:1-6). Or she may have the belief that to report the abuse would result in even greater endangerment to her or her children. In either case, it needs to be realized that Peter was asking women for a certain kind of submission. Peter was calling for the kind of Godly submission that has the husband being the servant leader God made him to be. Peter's intent was NOT to help abusive husbands indulge even more in the childish lust for power and sick control that Jesus condemned. (Mark 10:42-43; 1 Pet. 3:7) (Steinman, 2010)."
Be blessed!
Steinman, D. (2010). Answers2Prayers. Retrieved from: http://www.answers2prayer.org/bible_questions/Answers/marriage/battered.html
Ephesians 5:22, 28-31. "Wives submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is head of the wife, even as Christ is head of the church; and he is the savior of the body. Therefore as the church is subject to Christ, so let wives be to their own husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wife as Christ also loved the church and gave himself for it . . . So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church . . . For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh".
So what happens when falling in love doesn't lead to all those beautiful and amazing things? What happens when the man that's suppose to protect you is the one that makes you feel less than human?
For the longest time I thought I did something wrong. I would sit for hours upon hours, disect every memorable moment in my life and wonder was it that particular moment that caused this to happen to me. Why was I being punished? Now that I've been removed from the situation I can sit here and say, "I DID NOTHING TO DESERVE IT!!" It wasn't me. It was him. He's to blame for treating me badly. I was his wife. The mother of his children. He failed me. The only thing I was guilty of was falling in love with a jealous and controlling man. I learned very quickly that once I said the words outloud, it was much easier to believe. It reminds me of an alcoholics 12 step treatment program. The first step is admitting you're an alcoholic. As a domestic violence survivor, admitting you were in fact a victim is the first step to surviving the abuse.
I was in denial for a very long time. I found myself rationalizing. I'm not a victim. I choose to stay in this marriage (for reason I'll later explain). There came a point when I would fight back. How am I a victim if I'm fighting back? I'm not a victim. I let him do these things to me. I let him say mean things to me. I let him take all my money. I let him in the front door when he came home drunk and high. I let him dehumanize me. How does that make me a victim? I'll tell you why. As victims, we fail to see how traumatized we are. A traumatized mind makes traumatized decisions. Unless we remove ourselves from these unhealthy situations we continue to make the same traumatized decisions...over and over again.
One of the reasons I've decided to create this blog for other domestic violence victims is because listening to someone else's story helped me heal myself. Knowing that I wasn't alone and knowing that I wasn't the only one feeling confused and scared turned my life around. We as women need to realize that we deserve so much more than what we settle for. We deserve to find our prince charming. We deserve to have a man that loves us as Christ loved the church. We deserve to fall in love, have our beautiful house with the pickett fence but most of all, our babies deserve to live in a home filled with love, kindness and understanding.
Throughout my daily blogs you'll see references to Christ, God and the bible. I'm on a journey of discovering the person God created me to be. During my journey I've found resources that have helped me on my way. The following is something that I found very interesting,
"When an abused woman does ask the church for help, it is important to remember that God has always asked people of strength to come to the assistance of those who are weak and oppressed. (Ezek. 34:4).
The woman who passively allows her husband to abuse her may be sincerely trying to be obedient to the principles of (1 Peter 3:1-6). Or she may have the belief that to report the abuse would result in even greater endangerment to her or her children. In either case, it needs to be realized that Peter was asking women for a certain kind of submission. Peter was calling for the kind of Godly submission that has the husband being the servant leader God made him to be. Peter's intent was NOT to help abusive husbands indulge even more in the childish lust for power and sick control that Jesus condemned. (Mark 10:42-43; 1 Pet. 3:7) (Steinman, 2010)."
Be blessed!
Steinman, D. (2010). Answers2Prayers. Retrieved from: http://www.answers2prayer.org/bible_questions/Answers/marriage/battered.html
Monday, September 6, 2010
My First 10 Minutes
Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Deborah. Thirty-Seven. Single mother of five. I'm serious, funny, obnoxious at times. I smile often. I don't have much family and don't really have many friends. I love the sun and beach... and laughing at silly jokes. I don't hate nor do carry prejudices in my heart. My life isn't perfect but it's the one I have and the one I'd never exchange. Although I wouldn't trade it, I do sometimes wish I could yell misdeal because the cards on my table are unfair. I've recently realized that God created me to be me and NOT the person this world wants me to be. I don't have many regrets. I feel sad sometimes when I think about the future because I don't know what it holds for me. I just smile most days and say it's ok because tomorrow has to be better. I've made mistakes (some I can't take back... most I learned from) I'm new and improved, honest and sincere. Take me as I am because I am me... and that's all I can be.
Oh and one more thing... I'm a domestic violence survivor. I look like you, act like you and when I walk down the street you would never know it. My past, I carry it around like luggage. It's been my dirty little secret...one that I'll willingly expose in hopes to inspire at least one hurting heart. I walk, talk and breathe my life experiences. I've been told by many that I have the ability to communicate well and one day I should write a book. This is my book. It may never be on the best sellers list and chances are you'll never find it at Barnes and Noble, however, my book and all its pages, no matter how torn and tattered, hold a message. A message not only filled with heartache, tears and misery but also of hope, courage and perseverance. I hope my words and the story they tell will take your hand and guide you to the life that you know you were created to live. A life filled with peace, contentment and love.
Through all my trials and tribulations one thing I've learned about life... No matter how many times you're knocked down, you always have the ability to stand back up and walk forward... I'm living proof.
Oh and one more thing... I'm a domestic violence survivor. I look like you, act like you and when I walk down the street you would never know it. My past, I carry it around like luggage. It's been my dirty little secret...one that I'll willingly expose in hopes to inspire at least one hurting heart. I walk, talk and breathe my life experiences. I've been told by many that I have the ability to communicate well and one day I should write a book. This is my book. It may never be on the best sellers list and chances are you'll never find it at Barnes and Noble, however, my book and all its pages, no matter how torn and tattered, hold a message. A message not only filled with heartache, tears and misery but also of hope, courage and perseverance. I hope my words and the story they tell will take your hand and guide you to the life that you know you were created to live. A life filled with peace, contentment and love.
Through all my trials and tribulations one thing I've learned about life... No matter how many times you're knocked down, you always have the ability to stand back up and walk forward... I'm living proof.
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