The World vs. Us.....a rant

I have been a member of the Domestic Violence Survivors group since October of 07. At that time, I had been out of my abusive relationship for 3 months, and since then have faithfully read/posted/replied to this group everyday. I have read about successes, women who have finally gotten out; the pain, the black eyes, the bruises, the life altering injuries, the miscarriages due to abuse, the homelessness, the hunger, the sexual abuse done to their child, emotional abuse that will require therapy for many years to come, the destroyed self-esteem, the financial ruin, the custody battles, terror, fear, depression, the baby steps, the moments of "being still", the "escape" plans, dealing with cps, dealing with insensitive cops, dealing with "blind" in-laws, friends turning their backs, siblings who don't want to "see", the exhaustion of telling the truth, only to not be believed, of a system that gives visitation to a man who has abused mommy, but didn't the harm children, full custody to the abuser while maligning the mommy with falsehoods. I have read the tears, the cries for help, the frustration, the exhaustion, and the utter dismay of so many women who just want to be safe, and to raise their children in an environment that is loving, and peaceful.

Some of us have been able to keep our homes, some of us have been evicted because of our abusers, some of us live with our parents, some of us live in shelters, some of us have moved over state lines, some of us have changed our identities, some of us live in one room apartments and some of us can't leave the abuse because we would have no where to live. We have had to choose to stay so our children have a roof over their heads. We have had to stay because our abusers would kill us or our children if we try to leave, that an RO is only a piece of paper. Some of us stay because our abuser will steal our kids. We stay because the fear of the abuser is so powerful, it paralyzes us. Some of us stay because we know we can't "win" because of who the abuser knows, who his relatives are or where he works. Some of us barely breathe because state laws vary, one state seems to recognize the devastation of Domestic Violence, while another State thinks we are making this stuff up just to get back at our "man".

As foreword thinking our society has become, it is amazing, that even with photographic evidence, medical records, police reports, and even eyewitnesses, that a woman has to fight every step of the way to be safe. That our laws will still extend "parental rights" to a man who has beaten us, stabbed us, shot us, threaten to kill us in front of your children, raped us, sexually abused our children, held us prisoners for hours or days, terrorized every moment alone with them, called us every degrading name you can think of, thrown things at us, destroyed our children's toys, had/have us so programmed that every waking moment we walked on eggshells, hid in a room with the kids in hopes he would just leave us alone. We have stayed awake for hours and hours, trying to get our children to sleep so that they wouldn't cry, kept ourselves awake, in hopes that he would fall asleep, and not want to touch us. To close our eyes, "go somewhere else" when he did touch us. To cower in a corner, trying so hard to protect our unborn child to the punches and kicks, to make ourselves as small as possible to minimize the contact. To try to comfort and soothe the desperate cries of children as they watch mommy get hurt. And after all that, we try not to bash these "fathers" to our children, to not speak disrespectfully about them, to make it seem that Daddy has a "boo-boo" and when he gets it fixed maybe you can see him again. Or the worst scenario, is sit on that chair and watch your children get in the car with him for his overnight visits and pray and pray so hard that your children will come home ok. And after all our children have seen and heard, you have to convince your children that they will be alright being alone with him. God forbid we alienate our abusers.

A little boy was just shot and killed by his father because he would've rather kill his son than pay child support. This father never took advantage of his visitation rights, until the law caught up with over his support payments; so he finally "sees" his son for the first time, and kills him. I can't even comment, the rage I feel over this is unbelievable.

When do the eyes of law open. When do the ears of justice, hear our cries. We are entitled to the rights that every citizen of this country has, except when it comes to our safety, and our children's safety. We are thought of as victims, and we are, until we realize that we have to become survivors, not only from our abusive relationships, but survivors of our laws, judges, cps, doctors, housing, food stamps, in-laws, lawyers, and the ignorance of many who, until you have wept in our shoes, have no idea of the life-encompassing consequences of domestic violence.

Finally free

I have had some major changes in my life in the last few weeks, some good some bad. Being a victim of domestic violence has altered my perceptions of life, trust, and courage. I have had to take matters in my own hands, and get out of a very bad situation. I was able to get the entire incident on tape, this way, this time no judge was going to say "he said, she said" and throw the case out. Justice, for the time being has been served, and me and my children are safe.

Senseless

Three more useless deaths. Young adults trying to prove something on the roads, and now three of them are dead. In Freehold, three cars were racing on Rte 33, and one thing lead to another, and three young lives are lost. Where does that sense of immortality come from? At what point in a child's life does this idea develop? I know with my children, I was and am constantly reminding them to stop or they will get hurt. So from the very beginning, a sense of caution is instilled. My oldest has this insane mentality. He thinks he can do anything, with no horrible consequences. My daughter is more cautious. Yes, she still takes some chances, but nothing like my son. And with my three year old son, I see him now trying "To fly". My chairs are launch pads, and my bed is a springboard. How many times have the mother's of those dead boys told them to stop and be careful? And will their loss be something of a reminder to some other foolish "child" to "stop and be careful?"

Long lost friend

It is always such a great surprise when you get in touch with someone you haven't spoken to in such a long time. She is an old co-worker of mine. She left for bigger and better things. She found love, and a new home. And now we are back in touch. Just catching up, gossiping and reliving our time together is great. The home front is "the calm before the storm". He has been nice. And sometimes that is scarier than when he is mean. He instills such a sense of love for me, and the kids. But, I know that at minute, I am nothing to him, a joke, a piece of a**, and that is all. I can't even stand to hear those three little words because I know he doesn't mean it. And I never, ever say it back. I suppose there is a place inside that cares for him, but there is no where there is love. Unfortunately for him, and I guess all of us, that love died a long time ago. I don't trust him, but mostly I don't trust his words.

Made it through

We finally had some real snow this weekend. That is the good news, the bad news was that the frigid temps kept all of us home. My daughter had soccer practice, and while she did that, I donated blood. So it was a productive weekend. The bloodmobile has been coming around every couple of weeks, and it is local, so it is easy for me to donate. It was nice to see a lot of younger people there giving, also. Donating is the least I can do, since giving financially is just not an option. Of course, it drives my boyfriend nuts. He can't understand why I would just give my blood away. He thinks I should be paid for it. And when I try to explain to him that my blood could be helping someone, his attitude is so apathetic. ' "Since you don't know these people, why are you helping them?" ' Sadly for him, my answer that it is just a nice thing to do, is beyond his capabilities to understand.

Saturday was a rough day for him. He decided that he was going to quit his job. We are going nowhere fast, so he thinks quitting his job would be the best idea. And when I asked him if I should quit my job too, he said whatever I think is best. Obviously, taking care of our responsibilities and our children was not one of his concerns. And with that, he went to bed by 5pm. Sunday, he woke up, with a sunnier disposition, and all was good at our house. And we all, once again, survived another weekend.

So Very Cold

Winter has finally hit. When I woke up this morning, the wind chill was a toasty -7. I felt so bad that my daughter had to walk to the bus stop. But, I am sure somewhere in time, while I was still in school, I had to walk to the bus stop during the bitter cold of winter. Builds character? Anyway, my mandep (manic depressant) boyfriend comes home tomorrow. I can feel the eggshells being put on the floors already. My three year old will become the wild man because Daddy is home, and there are no rules; my daughter will disappear into her room and into her books for the whole weekend; and I will tiptoe through my days with him, hoping and praying that nothing upsets him. I try to keep things in perspective, and I try to remember that without him, I would be on the street, living in my car that has no heat. What a trade off me and my children have had to make. I can't even imagine what goes through my daughter's mind as she watches me pretend that all is well each weekend. She actually called me a prostitute---OUCH. But, how could I argue with her, when she is right. Out of the mouths of babes, right? Well, off I go, to make sure the house is spic and span, (god forbid he finds dust on anything).

The beginning

Trying to make sense in a world, (my world), (which, by the way, is oh-so-very small, relatively speaking). While all around me there is violence, death, war, and inexplicable atrocities going on, it certainly makes my particular world seem very simple. But, try living it, and (to me), it ranks right up there. I have three children, and how scary is that these days? One is 18, and on his own already. (Like he is ready for that!). One is 14, and so confused, and the third is 3>enough said. And to top is all off, I live with a man who is a manic-depressant and doesn't even know it. Do you know what it is like to walk on eggshells, so as not to trigger an outburst. Why do I live with it, because I financially have no way out. Plus the fear factor, he can be very scary, and has already threatened me if I were to leave. Sounds like an excuse. But what good is a restraining order. It only works after the fact. Not a chance I am willing to take for me or my kids. He won't get help, because he doesn't want to be dependent on pills. No, he would rather explode over tripping on a hot wheel car, scaring the crap out of everybody, then go take a pill. Yeah, my world may not be as bad as the next guys, but, for me it is a living hell.