Abuse

Abuse was my daily life for over a decade. Not every day. There were times that the fires of my abuser's rage were quenched by his last rampage of anger. However, abuse was the norm.

I believed that it was my fault. After all, he did not act this way with other people. He did not yell, scream, hit, throw across the room, try to suffocate, or strangle anyone else. The problem had to lie with me. Beside, that is what he said. It was my fault. I made him do it by not having the house clean enough, not making the right type of supper, speaking in public, looking at him wrong, the children acting up...Oh there were lots of things I did not do right. It was my fault.

What? You don't think so? Well, yes, in a way you are right. Want to know the truth? It was my fault. It was my fault because I ALLOWED him to treat me that way. No, it was not my fault, but the fact that it continued partially is. Yes, there is a breakdown of rationality in the thought process of abused women when it comes to the men who abuse them. I won't get into that today. But I allowed it.

This past summer I said, "NO MORE." I chose to leave. I chose to stop allowing him to hurt me. I chose to STAND UP. I may be STANDING IN THE ASHES, but I am standing. I will not drop, I will not fall, I will not cower. I am still standing and no one can stop me now.

Ashes All Around

Ashes are all around me. I don't feel like a Phoenix. I feel dirty, filthy. The air is hot, dry, and the ashes are thickly floating on the wind. There is still a fire burning somewhere in this house I called my life. It is not a fire I started. It is the fire of my abuser.

Sometimes I almost forget about this fire. Sometimes it fools me into thinking it has died down. The heat seems to be gone. The ashes are almost settled. I feel safe for the moment.

That moment never lasts long. The fire roars to life right under me; trying to consume me. It is all I can do each time to scramble out of the way. This time it has almost consumed me. This time I was caught unawares. I did not expect this from my antagonizer. Usually I can anticipate his nastiness. I can think like him at times and I am not caught off guard. But this time? This time was different.

However, I am standing in the ashes. I am still standing. That has to mean something. Even though the ashes are so thick I cannot see my way out, even though I feel no hope, at least I am standing. I am standing in the ashes that I once called my life.