Today, on August 15th an excerpt from this blog was shared Here on Violence Unsilenced. If you are not familiar with the site it is a forum for victims of Violence to share their stories.
What first struck me about this is how many people are featured. There are stories from every life stage, stories like mine. There are also some stories very different from mine, but the outcome is always the same. The decision to leave is a difficult one. For me, my friend and my mother showed up and saved me. Some days I think I wouldn't have done it without them, but I remember the struggle in the days that followed my emancipation. How hard it was not to pick up the phone, to go back to him. How tiring it became being awake, my eyes throbbed as badly as my bruises.
It is in moments of reflection that I know that I needed to be brave to make it through this. It is in moments when I hear the voices or read the words of others who have made it through that I know I am strong. I know we are all strong.
For those of you who left comments, words of love, understanding, support. Confirmation that violence can happen to any of us, there is no definition or reason. The reaffirmation that all that matters is that I survived, and I am okay, I am out and I get my life after 10 years.
Thank-you.
The excerpt can be read here, alongside the stories from others. It is defiantly worth a visit. I also encourage you to leave a comment. Trust me, it matters.
http://violenceunsilenced.com/
M
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Friday, 16 August 2013
Wednesday, 31 July 2013
The Wisdom of the Paper Bag Princess
If you are familiar with the story of Elizabeth, The Paper Bag Princess you know that this chick gets her clothing burnt off, her home and castle goes up in smoke. She chases down and defeats a bad-ass dragon to try to save a D-Bag Prince Roland.
Sounds familiar to me.
In the end she has nothing left, she essentially gives Princey-poo the finger and takes her Shabby Chic paper bag back to her burn out life, with nothing left but her pride.
I spent a lot of time chasing down that dragon. Maybe in my head at the time a prince was a prince. I didn't realize that like anything there are important variables that make your prince a Roland or Charming.
I had used my journey to save my husband as a method of distraction from my burnt out castle, my falling-apart-at-the-seams life. Hoped that by saving him it would make everything okay. In the end, no matter how hard I tried all I could have done is taken what I had left, and found a new kingdom.
If you are not familiar with the story, here you go:
Sounds familiar to me.
In the end she has nothing left, she essentially gives Princey-poo the finger and takes her Shabby Chic paper bag back to her burn out life, with nothing left but her pride.
I spent a lot of time chasing down that dragon. Maybe in my head at the time a prince was a prince. I didn't realize that like anything there are important variables that make your prince a Roland or Charming.
I had used my journey to save my husband as a method of distraction from my burnt out castle, my falling-apart-at-the-seams life. Hoped that by saving him it would make everything okay. In the end, no matter how hard I tried all I could have done is taken what I had left, and found a new kingdom.
If you are not familiar with the story, here you go:
Sunday, 9 June 2013
Nana
On June 8th 2004 I lost one of the most influential people in my life. At the time I was 17, my relationship with my husband was new and wonderful and not violent, at the time I couldn't imagine what it would have become.
As a child I learned my Nana left my grandfather and moved to an entirely new province with my uncles and mother, she left a man she loved but couldn't be with. As a child I never pressed on about the story of my grandparents. If I had I would have learned that my Nana survived a turbulent relationship with a man that she cared about deeply, a man who was troubled and she couldn't help. I don't know much else beyond these few stories, i don't know the intricacies or details, but I don't think I need to. The bit that I need to know is that she survived, because she left.
The last couple days my brain has wandered to Nana. It goes without saying that I miss her terribly, but lately my thoughts have been mulling over what my life would be like if Nana was still here. If I had known someone in my life who had gone through a relationship like mine and made it out. If there was someone who could have held my hand or told me to smarten up, perhaps if there was someone who knew what it was like, someone I could have opened up to.
I believe that I now have a stronger tie to Nana, one that I also share with more women and men than I know. We managed to figure out a way to get out of something, realizing that love is not a reason for hurt. I wish that she was here to tell me it gets better, to tell me that the pain will fade into nothing, that I did the right thing and like she did when I was a girl run her fingers through my hair to ease a bad day. Even though she isn't here to sooth me any longer, knowing that she was able to overcome this, knowing that my decision to leave was the same decision she made 50 years earlier. Nana was always my favourite person on this plane. She was a constant place for love in my life and even 9 years later she is still supporting me and guiding me through one of my hardest passages.
As a child I learned my Nana left my grandfather and moved to an entirely new province with my uncles and mother, she left a man she loved but couldn't be with. As a child I never pressed on about the story of my grandparents. If I had I would have learned that my Nana survived a turbulent relationship with a man that she cared about deeply, a man who was troubled and she couldn't help. I don't know much else beyond these few stories, i don't know the intricacies or details, but I don't think I need to. The bit that I need to know is that she survived, because she left.
The last couple days my brain has wandered to Nana. It goes without saying that I miss her terribly, but lately my thoughts have been mulling over what my life would be like if Nana was still here. If I had known someone in my life who had gone through a relationship like mine and made it out. If there was someone who could have held my hand or told me to smarten up, perhaps if there was someone who knew what it was like, someone I could have opened up to.
I believe that I now have a stronger tie to Nana, one that I also share with more women and men than I know. We managed to figure out a way to get out of something, realizing that love is not a reason for hurt. I wish that she was here to tell me it gets better, to tell me that the pain will fade into nothing, that I did the right thing and like she did when I was a girl run her fingers through my hair to ease a bad day. Even though she isn't here to sooth me any longer, knowing that she was able to overcome this, knowing that my decision to leave was the same decision she made 50 years earlier. Nana was always my favourite person on this plane. She was a constant place for love in my life and even 9 years later she is still supporting me and guiding me through one of my hardest passages.
Monday, 6 May 2013
Reflection
At the end of yoga practice you meditate. 10 minutes of peaceful reflection.
I cry every time.
No matter how good my week has gone or what I've accomplished my mind wanders to him. It is like a shadow you don't notice until you are alone, until you are vulnerable. When it doesn't matter how reasonable or rational or tough you are. It is the shadow that always manages to get inside your head and terrify you.
Today my mind wandered, I thought about how my husband felt the day I left. What happened the moments after the door to my condo shut. What happened to him as Kay and my mother loaded me into the Pontiac. Did he cry? Did he get up and clean the broken glass from the floor. Wash the spit and blood from the 800 thread count cotton sheets. Did he have a cigarette and absorb what has unfolded.
My head ran through a thousand different scenarios each one of them amplified my silent tears as I lay there on my mat. Each taking me back to last Tuesday.
Last week I spoke to him on the telephone, for the first time since Christmas. If you read the post from that morning you are already aware that it was not a conversation I would chose to have again.
When I hung up after 43 minutes and 28 seconds I was alternating between sobs and gasps, by chest hurt my head pounded. It was 4am and I couldn't call anyone, my texts went unanswered as I sat alone grasping at the teddy bear he had gotten me for my 17th birthday.
I was scared, the first time in five months I remembered what it was like to not have anything to hide myself in, no one to talk to. Suddenly, I was back in the world I lived for six years, alone.
I feel for him, I really do. He has lost more than I have. He has lost someone who took care of him, who loved him despite flaws, who tried to fix him, tried to help him. I understand what it feels like to be alone, I was there- a lot.
As the clock hit 5am I wished I could just slide my rings back on and go back to how it was, so all the hurt I was feeling would end. I can't, those rings should have never been on at all.
At 6am I wrote that post, I was hurting.
It took me a couple days of fighting to get back to where I am, it took some hard truths from my best friends and some good ol' fashioned hugs but I am back. I am back on my way to my new life. I know I will have lots of moments where I am flat on my back quietly crying during meditation-
I will be okay.
I cry every time.
No matter how good my week has gone or what I've accomplished my mind wanders to him. It is like a shadow you don't notice until you are alone, until you are vulnerable. When it doesn't matter how reasonable or rational or tough you are. It is the shadow that always manages to get inside your head and terrify you.
Today my mind wandered, I thought about how my husband felt the day I left. What happened the moments after the door to my condo shut. What happened to him as Kay and my mother loaded me into the Pontiac. Did he cry? Did he get up and clean the broken glass from the floor. Wash the spit and blood from the 800 thread count cotton sheets. Did he have a cigarette and absorb what has unfolded.
My head ran through a thousand different scenarios each one of them amplified my silent tears as I lay there on my mat. Each taking me back to last Tuesday.
Last week I spoke to him on the telephone, for the first time since Christmas. If you read the post from that morning you are already aware that it was not a conversation I would chose to have again.
When I hung up after 43 minutes and 28 seconds I was alternating between sobs and gasps, by chest hurt my head pounded. It was 4am and I couldn't call anyone, my texts went unanswered as I sat alone grasping at the teddy bear he had gotten me for my 17th birthday.
I was scared, the first time in five months I remembered what it was like to not have anything to hide myself in, no one to talk to. Suddenly, I was back in the world I lived for six years, alone.
I feel for him, I really do. He has lost more than I have. He has lost someone who took care of him, who loved him despite flaws, who tried to fix him, tried to help him. I understand what it feels like to be alone, I was there- a lot.
As the clock hit 5am I wished I could just slide my rings back on and go back to how it was, so all the hurt I was feeling would end. I can't, those rings should have never been on at all.
At 6am I wrote that post, I was hurting.
It took me a couple days of fighting to get back to where I am, it took some hard truths from my best friends and some good ol' fashioned hugs but I am back. I am back on my way to my new life. I know I will have lots of moments where I am flat on my back quietly crying during meditation-
I will be okay.
Tuesday, 2 April 2013
My Constant
The hardest days are the familiar days. The days where you remember what you were doing a year ago. The days where you know what you would have been doing if your life was still the way it had been months ago.
Today is one of those days.
I know that now I am stronger, I am safe and I am happy. I don't worry about what will happen if I come home late or don't want to clean the house. I don't worry that disagreements could turn into bruises. But still it is difficult to get away from the happy moments, the moments the Husband and I shared that were good, that were what marriage was suppose to be. It is difficult to forget how good he was when I was sad, when things in my life got too hard to handle. Sometimes, missing those things overshadow everything else.
I find it is important to focus on what I have now rather than what I could have had, or what I did have. It is times like this when I focus on the gifts the universe has given me. My Friends.
I have always been a believer the the universe; or whatever higher power attracts you will never give you anything you cannot handle and when the going gets tough it gives you the tools and the people that you need to get through.
I might have been handed a tough go for a bit but I have been blessed with the most amazing friends in the world. I small group of people who all through their own methodology keep me sane, help me find perspective, tell me the truth when it sucks, hold my hand and pick my sorry and sometimes inebriated ass off the floor.
Some of these people are new, some have been around since the only English they knew was Boy Band lyrics, others have slipped out of my life and fell right back in when we needed each other the most. Each of them are best at a different part of me and though our lives have grown with the times and we have all seen our moments in and out of the sun; something about these people keep me going.
So Thank-You to my Besties, who remind me no matter where I could have been I am here and without what I have been through I would not have them, I would not have ever known unconditional love, total acceptance and continuous support, not to mention the times we laugh until we almost pee.
Today is one of those days.
I know that now I am stronger, I am safe and I am happy. I don't worry about what will happen if I come home late or don't want to clean the house. I don't worry that disagreements could turn into bruises. But still it is difficult to get away from the happy moments, the moments the Husband and I shared that were good, that were what marriage was suppose to be. It is difficult to forget how good he was when I was sad, when things in my life got too hard to handle. Sometimes, missing those things overshadow everything else.
I find it is important to focus on what I have now rather than what I could have had, or what I did have. It is times like this when I focus on the gifts the universe has given me. My Friends.
I have always been a believer the the universe; or whatever higher power attracts you will never give you anything you cannot handle and when the going gets tough it gives you the tools and the people that you need to get through.
I might have been handed a tough go for a bit but I have been blessed with the most amazing friends in the world. I small group of people who all through their own methodology keep me sane, help me find perspective, tell me the truth when it sucks, hold my hand and pick my sorry and sometimes inebriated ass off the floor.
Some of these people are new, some have been around since the only English they knew was Boy Band lyrics, others have slipped out of my life and fell right back in when we needed each other the most. Each of them are best at a different part of me and though our lives have grown with the times and we have all seen our moments in and out of the sun; something about these people keep me going.
So Thank-You to my Besties, who remind me no matter where I could have been I am here and without what I have been through I would not have them, I would not have ever known unconditional love, total acceptance and continuous support, not to mention the times we laugh until we almost pee.
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