Domestic Violence and the Tiny Voice
Also known as, “You are such a strong woman. Why would you allow someone to treat you like that?”
That is the thing I hear the most. “Why?” Why did you stay? Why did you allow yourself to be beaten? Allow yourself to be controlled” Etc etc etc… I was first a victim of domestic violence by birth, and then by choice. I ended up with a man so like my father in his violent tendencies, that it is shocking to look back on it. The funny thing is, I was dating a man who looked a lot like my father prior to marrying my ex-husband, and I thought I broke the cycle. I didn’t.
My ex ix charming, smart, handsome, and evil. He charms everyone he meets, and no one suspects a thing until he lets the mask slip and then they know. They know who he is and he no longer tries to hide it. BUT… he does not think he has to. He truly believed that the fault laid with me. He once sat on my chest, holding my arms at my sides, under his knees, beating me all because I raised my voice at him. He told me it was my fault. Another time he told me he was going to kill me when we were camping…”It’s a good thing we are deep in the woods, “ he said offhand while he made a fire “ no one will ever find you.” He never even looked at me when he said it. I slept with a knife under my pillow the entire trip. That same trip he punched me as hard as he could while I was driving up a winding mountain road, because I dared to disagree with him. I nearly drove off the road, and had I, it surely would have been my fault as well.
I was born to violence. It was all I knew growing up, and I when I finally saw how nice other fathers were to their kids, hugging them, loving them, it confused me. I had no idea men were like that, at all. I had a father who beat everyone around me, and used me as an alibi more often than he played with me during my childhood. Growing up with that until 9, I lost all my faith in the divine. I prayed, daily, for God to help him. Instead, my father got more and more violent. I was, and remain to this day, faithless in a greater being.
It was later in life, during my marriage in fact, that I realized it was “easier” for me to be with a violent and cruel man, than it was to be with a good and kind one. I knew what to expect from an angry man. I knew how to hide, make myself small, how to react, or not. I understood the “looks”. Those looks that told me the Hurt was coming. As the marriage went on I knew ways to stop the Hurt before it started, or at least to duck the swinging hands that previously would have landed a horrible blow. I did not understand then, what I do now: my ex husband is what is termed a NarcoPath (http://flyingmonkeysdenied.com/what-is-a-narcopath/). Our former marriage counselor (the last one we had, and the one my ex decided to quit going to as I had to miss two appts — one for our daughter who was hurt at daycare and I had to leave, and one because we had the dates wrong and I had to work they day it was actually on), told me he feared for my safety and that my ex had narcissist and psychotic tendencies. He advised me to leave. Something, he said, he never does as it goes against his practice rules.
My ex started a smear campaign on me as soon as we split, something he accused me of doing (which I never have), he called me names on social media, in person, to my face and to others, accused me of stealing the house we bought while married, continues to tell people that I steal money from him monthly (child support is an issue for him. He does not think he should pay it), and even called the police on me at my own home because he was demanding an old two drawer file cabinet that only had my files in it. When the police came and I explained it to them, he them told them he could now not take it as it would never fit in his car. They informed him they would charge him with stalking if he did not leave me alone… but on social media it was ME who told him that… something that never came out of my mouth. A few months ago he accused me of breaking into his house and that he had “proof” I did this. I don’t even jaywalk, so breaking into a house is way outside my comfort level of law breaking and/or skills. I feel as though these things will never end as it’s been 5 years since we have been split up and divorced, and he keeps it up, even now.
I was born to violence, and chose it later in life. I gave away my whole to my ex-husband, and took it back little by little after the divorce. I still have pieces of my puzzle missing.. a little here, a little there… and a lot of belief that I am not worth loving. The tiny voice in me tell me things about myself… it tells me no one really cares or likes me, that I am destined to be alone though this journey of life, and nothing I do will ever be enough. I am alone, with my daughter, my words, and my gaping puzzle self, trying to make the pieces fit together again. I am not sad, or depressed, I am healing. The healing of my heart and soul might take the rest of my time on this earth, or it might not, who knows. It is a journey that I am finally OK with and know that no pain like the stuff I have endured will touch me now. I will not allow it.
I chose happy. I choose joy. I choose me.