So…I’ve been thinking. For a couple of weeks now. This whole situation has done something to me. I feel different. There has been an overwhelming sensation making it’s way through my entire being. Consciously…subconsciously. I’m not really sure. No. I’m not talking about the whole Domestic Violence lifestyle. It’s the…talking about it part. ALL OF IT. The abuse. The despair. The knowledge that I have to get out but also explaining why I still need to be here. The understanding. The support. Knowing that one of you reading this has been in the same boat. Even the empathy from those that haven’t. It’s been weighing on me. Something that is indescribable.
Today I read a story that I feel makes my story sound like I am overreacting. How can I complain when someone else has gone through something so much more unimaginable than me? When I comment along the same lines, she says to me “all pain is equal unless suffered in vain”. That literally brought tears to my eyes. How can my suffering be equal to hers? It’s impossible. She also said, “we are making an appropriately strong impact when we vocalize our past so others can learn from it in the future”. In reading that I could instantly visualize each of our stories as a domino piece in one of those huge domino toppling mazes. Hundreds and thousands of stories spilling out of our souls and having an effect on each other. We may not be able to see the end of this maze from where we stand today but our voice will make an impact.
So why speak up and not speak out?
I can’t speak for anyone else but when I started to tell my story it was solely to get it off of my chest. As I’ve said in previous posts, only ONE of my friends knows my story. All of it. At the very least the bulk of it. So in putting it out there it was my way of throwing it away. Get out of me. Go away. I don’t want to keep this story anymore. All of a sudden…you guys show up. Telling me I’m not alone. That you can connect with what I’m saying. Saying how brave I am for talking about it. I am thoroughly amazed. I can’t even fathom that there are so many people SPEAKING UP. That’s only on this website. What about other websites…personal blogs…stories submitted to magazines? How about those who haven’t spoken their truth out loud yet but instead pour their pain into poetry and paintings? My God I just want to save them. All. I decided to start a Facebook page (Battered Wife Seeing Better Life) and I’m also on Twitter (@bwseekingbl). I’m trying to put my story out there for more people to see as well as combine it with information on organizations and facilities across the United States and all over the world that are in place to help victims of Domestic Violence and Sexual Violence. Maybe I was lead down this road for a reason. Maybe someone will come across a shelter that I posted and see it is not far from them so they decide to make that call. As of today, I’ve been writing my blog for just less than two months and each day I feel more and more like this is just a starting point. Not only for my voice to be heard or for my impending happily ever after but to do something for those who haven’t found their voice just yet. If I’m going to speak up then I’m going to speak out.
In writing this, I can’t help but to think about my (long lost) niece (my brother-in-law’s first born). We haven’t seen her since she’s about two or three and it ends up she was only living a few states away. Due to the fact that her parents had a tumultuous relationship, her mother took her away from her father. The mother never allowed him to see her. He did fight for his daughter in court because there were times on and off when her mother was unfit but the judge granted the mother full custody. So she moved out of state and my brother-in-law refused to pay child support. Just for clarification, my niece is the same age as my oldest daughter. Finding her again came about because my brother-in-law looked up the mother’s name recently and found an obituary. She was brutally stabbed on her front steps by her boyfriend. Of course, now he wanted to know where his daughter was. Through a relative he found her. This poor girl already had four kids. The last one being from a man who beat her so much that she lost hearing in one ear. In her 24 years, she learned how to make crack (due to her mother’s acquaintances) was pimped out (to pay for her mother’s habits) and also became addicted at one point in her young life. Somehow, maybe because of her mother dying the way she did, this girl pulled herself together and straightened out. All except for escaping this abusive boyfriend. My brother-in-law went and did the right thing – finally – and took her and her baby out of there (the other three kids are with their dad) and he brought her to his home. I was out of my mind with emotions for this poor kid…not only because of all she went through but because she was saved. It made all the emotional shit – of some really rough nights when I would cry to myself and pray for someone to save me – come back up. I could mentally and physically feel the relief this child must have had in knowing that not only was someone coming to get her but that it was her father that she longed for. Unfortunately, the ending is not a happy one. After a couple of months she went back to her boyfriend. I think of her often and hope she doesn’t leave this earth the same way her mother did. I pray she finds her voice before it’s too late.
Thank you Inpotentia for telling your story. I am in awe of your strength. You are truly amazing.