We have all heard it as kids…
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me.
Bull shit! Bruises heal but words can stay in your mind, eat away at your self-confidence and destroy your soul. I know…
Since the first of this year, my beloved tribe, the family of my heart has been torn to shreds…by domestic abuse.
One battles alone to heal the little boy inside the man, the little that took beatings for his mother and siblings became the man with a savior complex who cannot break free. A man whose supposed strength is his greatest weakness.
Another battles to heal the unseen scars of a lifetime, words from the very ones who should have loved and protected her, but instead constantly tore her down. A pattern of co-dependence that held her prisoner.
Another fights to heal the pain of his most precious gifts…his children.
And me? Ohhhh… I fight to keep my head above water every night. Words slung at me in hate that eat away at my mind, my soul and my very will to live. If it were not for the fact that PanKwake needs me…and I know that now more than ever…every time I think of all that my friend has gone through, I know that I am all that stands between her and that broken spirit. So I battle on…
Writing this…coming out of the closet…it is about taking back my control and proclaiming to others…
You are NOT alone. It can and does happen to anyone. And you are not weak. You do not have to be a victim. Not any more.
I won’t lie. It is not easy. I spent four hours in a police station…to be told I was over-reacting and no crime had been committed. I went to my GP to be pushed out of the door with only a number of a counselling service…because REAL patients were waiting. And social services? I don’t know but I am not hopeful for them or the courts.
Yes, it is frustrating. I feel powerless…hopeless…and helpless sometimes. But I keep fighting for her…
I may lose. Hell, I already am… It reminds me of the scene (and I tried to find it for ya’ll) in my fav Die Hard 4: Live Free or Die Hard. They just got blown up in the power substation. They are walking away, barely alive. Matt asks John, “Win? When did we start winning?” That’s me.
I may end up stuck here for six more years until PanKwake comes of age. I know that the next couple of years are going to be hell in court. But one thing I do know…one day my daughter will understand how hard her Mommy fought for her. And that matters most.
Remember abuse is more than black eyes and broken bones. It is control. It is words. Anything that makes you live in fear is abuse. And you deserve better than that.
Goddess bless, protect and heal us all.