domestic violence: survival and recovery
May 1st, 2012
Someone i love dearly had this experience today.
She was in a parking lot. The wind grabbed her car door and popped it open very close a car next to her. She got out and inspected the car. No dents. No damage. No marks. The driver was returning to the car and saw it happen. She explained that the wind had grabbed the door and apologized sincerely and profusely.
He got into his car, started to drive away, rolled down the window and yelled “and that’s why you’re a Fat Pig!”
April 29th, 2012
by: Rapunzel
My anxiety used to be manageable, like before a job interview, or having to drive a long distance. Every morning for the past week I have awakened with the same acute anxiety in my chest, wondering, if its a heart attack? Anxiety attack? It scared me enough to go out and finally get my prescription filled.
That helpless feeling, and the backwash that the body and spirit never forget, that is what concerned me enough to ask for help in the eleventh hour (as is how I have always been). This is not normal, but I would chew off my arm and claim it does not hurt before asking for help: character defect. I never wanted to be an alarmist. I would not be that woman who cried: “PTSD is killing me and I need help now.”
April 29th, 2012
by: Hestia, Goddess of Home and Hearth
At times I feel lonely, and I miss my dreams of us being a family and raising our amazing, brilliant son together. Feelings like loneliness can pass through us and teach us something about ourselves. I am so much stronger every day that I am away from him. It is so much better just to be free and not to have to hide or fight.
When I was in it I didn’t fight back. I crumbled. never go back continued »
April 29th, 2012
by: Sophia, Goddess of Wisdom
I am a survivor of domestic violence. Last year, I was very lonely, feeling miserable. I tried a couple of therapists and found some peace with them (not much mind you) but the sessions got me thinking. Once everything started settling down I found I was a much happier person. I get stronger every day.
Loneliness can be very difficult, but remember it is most likely not the man you miss, but the companionship. Even if you don’t know for sure if it is abuse, think about this: Anytime a man calls you nasty names, gets in your face, or even if he just backs you into a corner, that is ABUSE, and we are so much better than to have to put up with that behavior.
April 8th, 2012
There are moments that, rather magically, leave a forever impression in our minds. I remember one such moment that returned to me years later, full force.
As a very young pre-teen, some crazy-man Sunday school teacher told our little group that we should “love our neighbors, as ourselves.” Never the shy one, I spoke up and said something like: What are you talking about? How do you love yourself? That doesn’t make any sense. It didn’t make sense to me, not at all.
I was not unfamiliar with the heavy black book, the pictures with Angels and men with sticks. Our dad had been a Protestant minister for a while when we were very young, and never really stopped preaching to his personal choir. We had been taught that we should love other people, help strangers, and turn the other cheek (whatever that meant). I do remember the teacher stopping the class to answer my question. Unfortunately, the answer did not stick in my head as solidly as the question. I wish it had. It might have saved me years of abuse. self-love and renewal continued »
April 3rd, 2012
My body is not who I am.
I am not this ugly, fuzzy worm,
I am a beautiful creature,
with wings
Wait, you will see.
I am a soul,
confined within a body
I am a soul,
struggling to be free of this captivity
I am a chrysalis
a worm, hiding in a small curled up space
I am ready
to return to life, with beautiful wings,
to wink at you, and fly away.
March 31st, 2012
I am a grandmother. It changes my entire being.
I will happily hold my crying grandchild for as long as it takes, for any reason, or no reason, until the little one falls gently asleep.
Grandchildren are the most perfect humans in the universe. My love for them is enormous, complete, total, and unconditional. Each child is perfect. Each is irreplaceable. Each has special qualities that are found nowhere else in the universe.
I realize that I don’t mind being vomited on, peed on, or cried on. My ears do not care. My arms are tireless. Baby tears are precious drops of heavenly joy falling on worn and tired shoulders.
Baby-love, indeed, cures all physical problems related to old age. As a grandmother I can hold, carry, walk, pace with, and whisper forgotten nursery rhymes to my grandchildren longer than I can do anything else in life.
This child has my eyes. What else is there?
March 24th, 2012
Waking up in a wild panic, heart pounding, covered in sweat, that’s a Nightmare. Do you remember it? If you can remember, turn on a light and write it down immediately. Understanding nightmares could help you to get rid of them.
If you are having nightmares on a regular basis, change something! Try filling your brain with beautiful thoughts. Read something inspiring before you go to bed. Listen to soft music. Light some candles if you have them. Dim the lamps. Take a bubble bath. Anything that settles your mind and body before going to bed is helpful.
dark night continued »
March 10th, 2012
by guest contributor: D.V.
Many victims in different facets of their process may agree that they feel a need for privacy.
In relation to their home addresses, email adresses, websites, photos, relatives, any and all identifiable information that could increase risk. Since the objective is safety, it is disheartening to see free and paid sites alike on the internet offering such information readily to the hands of many. Victims fall into another category in my opinion and should have a legislative opt out measure in place to have their personal tracebale data removed off the internet permanently.
Petition: Safety, Security, Social Media and the Victim continued »
March 6th, 2012
I never wanted to bring children into a world where an idiot with a red button could end every living thing in moments, or, where nuclear fallout could make survival worse than death. What a fool I was. I thought the world was too dangerous for children, but my relationship with their father was the real poison in our lives.
I was not his victim. I realize that now. I could have walked away a thousand times before I became so stuck in my own mind that escape seemed impossible. In the end, I became my own victim. I decided to believe that the things he said about me were true, his estimation of my worth as a human being, and my abilities as a parent.
