Forcing the Issue: My Soliloquy to Survivors

Upon reading this article today, I am reminded of an ugly part of my past. Go on, skim the article... I am not as concerned about the fashion designer, as to what he allegedly did to those women and girls.

It is most upsetting, as a rape survivor, because I hate when people are systematically abused and society keeps letting them off the hook because of who they are... or worse yet... who you are... or the very worst... you are afraid to even speak up because you fear that no one would believe you.

The thing that I didn't know at age 15, was that when someone abuses you in that manner, it is ingrained into the way your mind works. Those are your formative years... the time when you are learning about yourself, the world and your body... you are deciding what you think is sexy, what you think is hot and how you like being treated not only in a dating relationship, but in a physical relationship and ultimately, marriage.

That was more than half my life ago! And yet sometimes I feel the pain like it happened yesterday. After a failed marriage with a man who turned violent... after a failed relationship with someone very controlling... after 6 months of singledom that felt like an eternity... 8 months into one of the first truly healthy relationships I've shared in my life... I'm starting to take the wind out of the sails that haunted me all these years.

No, I'm over being angry. It's just those things that get ingrained. The momentary thought that you'd actually like to be treated violently.... the fleeting recollection of pain mingled with the slightest amount of... what? Pleasure? Surely you jest. But anyone who has been through this knows what I'm talking about.

The longer time it's been since this terrible thing happened, the more I question whether I fought hard enough... should I have told someone? (of course I should have)... and... did I... like it?

I DID NOT LIKE IT. No one would. Yet the battle rages on until the wind dies down and I can hear my tiny voice clearly saying "No."

-Dot.

P.S. Intense therapy and drugs for depression were also needed to quiet my storm. I encourage anyone who's been treated violently, to seek professional help. Every day is a struggle at first, but then we learn to live and ultimately to love (ourselves - loving others is not really the problem).

Domestic Violence does not have to take the form of physical battery...
This is a site detailing some of the statistics, causes and effects of domestic abuse. I understand it's a serious topic, and I am not treating this lightly. Another site has better information about emotional battery.

I am a victim.

Silent all these years
I never shared my misgivings about my marriage with anyone... but it seems a lot of people could still see that. Even my spouse could not see. But I could. For instance, last summer, we went with friends to an art festival. I remember thinking how in love they all were, and why did I feel so bad? Something was not right in Whoville, but I did not know what.

Did I go somewhere for the holiday?
In a word? No. I actually cooked a small turkey that looked more like a chicken (but it was turkey, I swear). And I organized my closet, lined my dresser drawers, and drank beer. You heard me right -- I drank beer. Ten people called and asked if I would join them for "leftovers" or for "dessert"... but I felt more like they wanted to ease their minds and consciences of having someone alone, wallowing (say wallering) in sadness on their watch. Can I blame these heartful people for caring? Heck no. But I simply had no mind for football games, mindless chattering about turkey-cooking techniques, and most especially, about so-and-so's recent fishing trip.

What I wanted, was to go with my spouse to his brother's place for dinner. One of the reasons I tried to hold out until after the holidays (I mean, why I tried to not leave), was that I wanted desperately to see my sister-in-law. She is an amazing woman who I could only hope to be like, one day. Smart and self-assured and an awesome cook, she always has an opinion and she changes it not-often.

Speaking of not changing one's mind or yielding one's opinions...
I saw a t-shirt that I simply must own. It has a sentiment that I have always felt, but in this day and age, and in my social setting, it is sometimes considered un-PC. Newsflash! I HATE PC! So anyways... the t-shirt said "Equal Rights for Pre-Born People". It was on a total liberal, ragging about abortion.

Here's my unique angle on abortion: Since for 10 years I was trying to have kids, and I haven't yet... then every single life is precious to me. I want a baby. "Fine timing Lucille", you say. Yah, shure, you betcha. But that doesn't change my Plans for the Future.

I haven't slept in a million years and I haven't eaten since 6 o'clock last night. Four a.m. sucks no matter if you wake up then, the party is just getting good, or if you are on the long side of a 10 hour overnight shift.

My personal life is in shambles, but I have more hope than ever, for the future. I am certain of what I have to offer. I am certain that I will be alright. You wonder why the ambivalence? Because I don't really trust myself after all of this time.

What happened? I fell in love. I got married two years later. Even then, I was only 20. Now I'm 30 and for the past three years I've been trying to convince myself that this hasn't all been a big mistake.

Today I will take a second load of boxes to my new apartment. My friend is bringing some furniture this morning as soon as I leave the office. The apartment manager said about me yesterday after I told her I was leaving home "I know the look... a lot of us have been there before."

Then please tell me why I feel so alone?