Yes... This is Therapy

Introduction



There you go.  I did it.  I have made a choice of my own.  I have chosen to take my recovery into my own hands regardless of what everyone else in this family thinks. For years I have pushed my emotions, my fears, my anger down past my heart and into the depths of my stomach for your sake.  I've fought within my own mind to somehow satisfy what is happening to me and you're own denial.  I've allowed you to control me, define me, confuse me, and literally drive me crazy. 

No more.  I am going to cry. I am going to be angry.  I am going to speak. I am going to heal.  I'm going to be happy.  I'm going to succeed.  And if you don't like it... I really don't care. 

As I begin my journey from victim to survivor expect chaos, expect confusion.  Most importantly, expect the immersion of a powerful, competent woman who refuses to live in vain.

Take note... I'm not going to tip toe with my words. I'm not going to sugar coat the truth.  I'm going to tell you how it is, what it feels like, and figure out how to survive.  For once... this is not about you.  What comes next in this series of writings is all about me!

I'm confidant there are other souls within this community who do care enough to join me on this journey.  Funny how strangers can make better mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters than our own blood.  But, hey, that's just the first of life's ugly truths about to be revealed.

Here we go... like it or not... it's time to let go and move forward.  Hang on. It's going to be a bumpy ride!







Chapter 1:  Define Victim



Victim- What is a victim?  Or who is a victim?  Without thinking, ask yourself the question.  Which do you use when asked to define victim?



'What is a victim?' implies that a victim is a thing... an object without feelings. It is very impersonal.  'Who is a victim?' tells me that 'victim' is or was a person or a thing with emotions and living.



A victim is an object (person or thing) that unwillingly and /or undeservingly receives bad treatment.  I chose to focus on victim in terms of people and define bad treatment as acts that affect the physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or any part of the overall health of a person. 



We are all victims at some time throughout our lives whether it be a victim of someone's bad day or the victim of a robbery.  We have all unwillingly and undeservingly been treated badly by another person. 



Victim and Me

I was a victim of child abuse. As a child, I could not escape the harsh words of my parents nor the hands and belts that left bruises. There was no gentleness or attempts to express their frustrations while taking my feelings into consideration. As a matter of fact, in their eyes, I had no feelings at all. When my uncle died, I was chastised for crying because it annoyed her.  When I was angry, I became a 'trouble child' and in need of psychological help. How dare I express myself.  I unwillingly and undeservingly was raised by them to believe all feelings I have are wrong, inappropriate, and unworthy of other people's time. 



After I married, again, my feelings were ignored and regarded being nonexistent.  For 13 years, he did as he pleased and I became the victim of domestic abuse. He lied, he cheated, he used thought control, exploited my trust, used God, did anything and everything he wanted to do regardless of my feelings.  By this time, I was a grown adult trained that I had no feelings and the feelings I did have, good or bad, were unacceptable to others.



A victim of domestic abuse for 34 years is the ugly truth of my life.  By definition of victim, I admit I did not ask for it. I did not want it. I could not control it (Lord knows I tried!) I was the unwilling recipient of other peoples bad choices of behavior. 



Victims Who Survive

Children of domestic violence do not have a choice. Maybe, if they are lucky, someone from social services will step in and stop the physical violence.  However, the chances of that happening to mildly physically abused children is rare and may only cause more problems.  In my case, when the police came to the house the beatings subsided for a little while and sometimes continued after they left. I recall laying on the floor, my mom sitting on me, and only getting up when she said, "Go! You're police are here."  And after the detective came to my school to talk to me about my bruises; the beating that happened that night was not pretty.



(Time out as I find myself bawling.) We were just children.  She was all powerful. She had power over the police... the law that was there to protect me.  She could beat us, get up, talk to the police, and then start again after they left. She could get on that phone and call people, fill their heads full of sopping cries and lies, and they would believe her proceeding themselves to give us disapproving looks and unkind words... 'How dare we mistreat our mother.'  She could laugh at us, humiliates us, keep 'funny' secrets, and get anyone to join in.  She had the power over relationships. She decided who's Daddy he was when she demanded he pay more attention to my older cousin. There were no rules she could not break. She wa authority over all rules.  But for us, we had better not dare cross one of them or we would have hell to pay.  Not only was it by her towards me, but she created a heirarchy.  The firstborn of each family was given authority over the younger siblings.  As the second born in my family. He was given authority over me by her.  A perceived authority that still exists today.  One that sets fire to my soul faster than anything.  She ruled my relationships. She stripped my of my father/daughter bond and even stole my brother/sister relationship.  What power she had.  What a lasting impression in the mind of a child and the feelings of helplessness and anger.



To be continued...